The Wand and The Scepter

Chapter Eighteen - Consort of a God

The acrid scent of incense permeated her senses, assaulting her nose and causing her eyes to water. The air was warm and stuffy, the crackle of a fire echoing inside a large chamber. Perri kept her eyes closed tightly, feigning unconsciousness. She lay on something soft—or many soft things—which was comfortable.

Realizing she had been taken prisoner, she opened her eyes carefully, trying not to move or show that she had woken. What she saw made her gasp. A bed of colorful cushions had been spread out on a dais, on which she lay. Two thrones stood beside her, one enormous and elaborate made of some stone of the blackest black, and inlaid with gold. The second much smaller and made of ebony and decorated with gold and precious gems. They were empty, however, and voices from farther in the room commanded her attention.

The immense throne room of her dream stretched out before her in all its majesty. Tall columns supported the high ceiling, torches flickered from them and the walls around, on which hung tapestries depicting the great deeds of the pharaohs.

Two men stood in the room and terror seized Perri as she gazed upon them. One was clearly the fair-skinned man with the raven's head that had captured her. The other was at least a foot taller, with well-muscled arms and chest. On his shoulders sat the head of a jackal.

The two animal-headed men argued in an Ancient Egyptian dialect, which Perri's gift instantly gave her command of. Determined to remain still, she listened to the conversation that played out before her.

"The battle goes poorly, Your Highness," said the raven-headed man.

"How can that be?" bellowed the larger man, his voice oddly human-like as it came from his canine mouth. "We are twenty wizards strong!"

"Th-they have managed to defeat most of them in stealth."

"What? How could they all have been taken by surprise?"

"They were trying to break the curse, Your Highness, as you ordered."

The leader spun on his heels and paced back and forth in the great hall, his voice echoing as he cursed in frustration. From his kilt, he drew a long, black scepter with gold trim. It had a stylized animal head on the top, with gold in its eyes and mouth.

He rounded on the smaller man and pointed the head of the staff at him. "Go! Rally your men and lead the attack, and with your powers strike terror into the hearts of our enemies!"

The raven-man bowed quickly. "Yes, Your Highness. So you say, so it shall be." He strode purposefully from the room, the massive wooden doors slamming shut behind him.

The jackal-man returned to his pacing, muttering about wizards and incompetence.

Perri risked a little movement and she craned her neck to get a better look around the room. Her wand had to be there, somewhere, but she could not see it from where she was on the cushions.

"A-ha! So she wakes!" the canine-headed pharaoh called out suddenly. He did not sound angry. In fact, he appeared quite pleased. "Stand, woman! Stand before your master and let me see you."

The urge to resist welled up inside her, and she had to force it down. This was him. The wizard that was trapped in Nekhneten. That sent the raven to invade her mind. Menkare, the pharaoh who cursed the city feared him. The king of all Egypt—during the height of their power—was afraid of this man and was unable to kill him. To act rashly toward this monster of a man would easily spell her doom. How do you treat a wizard who has lived for two thousand years? Perri knew the answer: you do as he says. And without her wand, she was defenseless.