Who Is She? | Jaz Anderson

• sixteen •

The guards were intimidating enough — six red-skinned warriors with guillotine blades for heads.

Even without them, Ayden could tell Setne was dangerous from all the magical precautions. Glowing hieroglyphs spiraled around him like the rings of Saturn — a collection of anti-magic symbols like: Suppress, Dampen, Stay, Shut up, Powerless, and Don't even think about it.

Setne's wrists were bound together with pink strips of cloth. Two more pink bands were tied around his waist. One was fastened around his neck, and two more connected his ankles so he shuffled as he walked. To the casual observer, the pink ribbons might've looked like the Hello Kitty incarceration play set, but Ayden knew from personal experience that they were some of the most powerful magic bonds in the world.

"The Seven Ribbons of Hathor," Walt whispered. "I wish
I could make some of those."

"I've got some," Zia murmured. "But the recharge time is really long. Mine won't be ready until December."

Walt looked at her in awe.

The guillotine demons fanned out on either side of the accused.

Setne himself didn't look like trouble, certainly not someone worthy of so much security. He was quite small — not Bes small, mind you, but still a diminutive man and shorter than Ayden by a considerable amount. His arms and legs were scrawny. His chest was a xylophone of ribs. Yet he stuck out his chin and smiled confidently as if he owned the world — which isn't easy when one is wearing only a loincloth and some pink ribbons.

Without a doubt, his face was the same one Sadie had pointed out in the Hall of Ages. He'd been the priest who sacrificed that bull in the shimmering vision from the New Kingdom.

He had the same hawkish nose, heavy-lidded eyes, and thin cruel lips. Most priests from ancient times were bald, but Sene's hair was dark and thick, slicked back with oil like a 1950s tough boy. If Ayden had seen him at a market, she would've steered clear, assuming he was handing out advertisements or trying to sell scalped tickets. Sleazy and annoying? Yes. Dangerous? Not really.

The guillotine demons pushed him to his knees. Setne seemed to find that amusing. His eyes flickered over the room, registering each one of them. Ayden kept her head held high, her stance open and ready to spring into motion at any second. She stared him down when he locked eyes with her, not blinking. He was forced to look away first.

He inclined his head toward the throne. "Lord Osiris, all this fuss for me? You shouldn't have."

Ayden's father didn't answer. With a grim expression, he gestured at Disturber, who shuffled through his scroll until he found the proper spot.

"Setne, also known as Prince Khaemwaset-"

"Oh, wow..." Setne grinned at Sadie, and she fought the urge to smile back. "Haven't heard that name in a while. That's ancient history, right there!"

Disturber huffed. "You stand accused of heinous crimes!
You have blasphemed against the gods four thousand and ninety-two times."

"Ninety-one," Setne corrected. "That crack about Lord Horus — that was just a misunderstanding." He winked at
Carter. "Am I right pal?"

How in the world did he know about Carter and Horus?

Disturber shuffled his scroll. "You have used magic for evil purposes, including twenty-three murders —"

"Self-defense!" Setne tried to spread his hands, but the ribbons restrained him.

"— including one incident where you were paid to kill with magic," Disturber said.