Hathor's Mirror

TEN | IT'S TOO EARLY FOR THIS

At long last, Avril the sorceress has gone silent. She cried for a long time, speaking incoherently through her tears of her many travails and the unfairness of her lot in life to Oliver, her cat, who of course, said nothing to console her.

With nowhere else to go and it being inconceivable to leave my trapped soul behind, I remain in the corridor, which I soon discover is not dingy precisely, but dark, nonetheless. Its walls and floors are made of a dull grey stone. It's unlike anything I have seen before, its surface is rough and somewhat porous. I decide this is not real stone, but something made to replace it - a lesser, softer kind of stone. I suspect Avril has created it with her sorcery. Only the greatest of sorcerers can manifest stone. I am certainly in the hands of one of the most powerful of these. I must be calm, and quick-witted if I am to salvage my soul and return to my home. I decide to use this reprieve to get my bearings and plan my escape.

The only light in this space appears along the edges of the floor and ceiling – and these only illuminate the space when I move. If I stand still for several heartbeats, the light vanishes, and I am left in near darkness. I dislike this corridor immensely. To keep the light from disappearing I am forced to walk back and forth along its length, which is substantial. Further along the corridor are doors exactly the same as the one I from which I have been cast out. So far, I have counted seven doors, each bearing a symbol outside of it, embossed in gold on the wall.

I begin to suspect this is where she holds those others I saw in the dark mirror like the woman with the markings on her neck who was shackled to a table. At the far end of the corridor is another larger door, set deeper into the wall with a smooth illuminated panel placed against the wall. I dare not touch it fearing what magic I might unleash. I suspect this leads to the way out of Avril's sanctuary and note its distance from her door, the one marked with a single straight line.

I find I am fatigued with waiting but there is no place to sit apart from the floor. Never in my life have I sat on the floor. Even as a child there was always a stool with a cushion. I am the daughter of a god. I do not sit on the ground like an animal. There is nothing else to do but to open one of the other doors and command whomever is within to fetch a chair I may sit upon until the sorceress deigns to open her door again. It is possible I might even find an ally in this place, and together we might be able to overcome our oppressor. This thought cheers me and I turn from the door with the illuminated panel towards the nearest door, the one with a marking that looks like an angled straight line with a horizontal line intersecting it at the top.

I reach the door and realise I will have to knock to get the attention of whomever is within. This unsettles me. Again, I have never done such a thing, and I find my twenty years of being the princess of Egypt bridling against having to do the work of a servant.

I breathe a prayer for forgiveness to Hathor for the indignity I am about to force upon my royal person, curl my fingers into a fist, my rings gleaming dully in the light, and pull back to rap my knuckles against the wooden door.

A hiss from the door with the illuminated panel cuts through the silence of the corridor and startles me. I turn to face it, my heart pounding. Perhaps she has sent for her guards, and now I am to be taken away, far from my soul. I cannot let this happen, I have nowhere to run, and nothing but my hairpin with which to defend myself, but I pull it free, and wait, my deadly weapon held out. I am Neferu-re, daughter of Pharaoh; I will not fall without a fight. I have been trained how to defend myself ever since I was a child. It would take an adept warrior to overcome me. Speed and surprise are my best weapons, and I have learned to use them better than even my own mother, Pharaoh of Egypt.

The door slides open, and a male figure steps out from an enclosed illuminated space. He is taller than I, and built like a warrior, although he wears no armour, rather the same sort of strange clothing the sorceress wears. I take a soft breath to calm my thundering heart.