Hathor's Mirror

SIX | MEANWHILE, IN LONDON

I sit up. It's dark. All know I do not like the dark. Lamps are always lit in my apartment. Always. Panic claws at my throat. Perhaps I am dead, and Anubis lurks in the shadows, waiting to eat my heart.

"Guards!" I call, though it's timid, borne of fear.

I wait, tense, listening, hoping for their footsteps. None come. Instead, in the distance, a strange, ear-splitting wail tears through the silence. It rises and falls, piercing and harsh, the closer it gets, the more it fills the space, until I cannot even hear my own thoughts. 

I clap my hands over my ears, terror gripping me. Death is worse than imaginable. This inhuman cacophony must be the sound of souls being consumed. Of those who fail the weighing of the feather against their heart being eaten. I must be dead. There can be no other explanation. And now I await my own judgment.

The sound diminishes and fades away, at last. I find I am trembling.

A knock comes from the darkness.

"Hello?" a female voice calls. "I, um, I made you some tea and toast with cheese."

I say nothing. I have no idea what this servant of death is talking about. Tea? Toast with cheese? It sounds terrible, whatever it is.

Another knock. "I heard you call out," she says.

I frown. Why would a servant of judgment care if I called for guards? My thoughts slide from fear to suspicion. Perhaps I have been captured. Though how, I cannot imagine. I have no memory of a coup. I pinch myself. It hurts. So. I am not dead. I am a prisoner, and this is a cell. Which means my mother has finally lost her throne, and my life is in great danger.

There's a click from where the voice is. I assume my captor is unlocking my door. I reach up and pull one of the gemmed hairpins from my hair free. I am the only child of pharaoh. It is my duty to fight my way free, and when I do those who have taken me will pay with—

Part of the wall falls inward and white light streams in from the opening.

"Um hi?" the woman says. She is holding a tray. So, a servant. I glare at her from the darkness, hairpin ready to blind her. She steps carefully toward me and sets the tray down somewhere beside me. "I'm just gonna, you know, turn on the light so you can see."

She leans forward and there's another click. Light blazes through the darkness. I recoil and cover my eyes, blinded.

"Oh!" she says, "I'm sorry, it's just a 40 watt bulb, one of those low energy LED ones to save the environment. I got it at John Lewis. Supposed to last 15 years. So far, it's been two. So far, so good."

I lower my hands, aware she has had the advantage of me. She is watching me, wary, like I'm a snake who might strike, and she would be right. I am schooled in the art of self-defense with a dagger and blunt objects.

She sticks out her hand to me. "I'm Avril," she says. "I'm Nerys's friend."

I lean away from her hand, as though it is coated with poison.

She pulls her hand back. "Sorry," she says. "It's just I don't really know what way to act. You appeared out of nowhere, and my friend, Nerys? She's gone." She blinks several times, and I realize she is fighting back tears. A weakness. Good. I will save that for later.

For now, I couldn't care less about her friend. But I care an awful lot about me.

She turns and looks at the tray she has brought me. "I don't know what you eat, but everyone loves tea and toast with cheese, so I thought maybe that would be okay."

I glare at her and her stupid tray of ugly food. She withers.

"Maybe some fruit?" she offers. "I have bananas, or blueberries? Would you like blueberries? They are from Waitrose. They were expensive so they should be nice?"