the…” she paused, trying to find the right words, “…for things to wear off. I’ll bet that in the morning, everything will be much clearer. By the way, weren’t all the pharaohs men?”
“I am obligated to fulfill my father’s wish, regardless of my sex.”
“Hmm. Perhaps you should be drinking water instead.”
The humiliating silence that lingered in the room vanished instantly when a grey cat strode through the balcony door.
“Hey buddy,” Victoria called in a friendly way as she rose from the couch. “Where you been?”
Clearly she is unaware of how improper her greeting is , Khara thought, lacking the attention and respect required for a sacred beast. Gathering bedding from a cabinet in the next room, Victoria’s insolence continued. “Meet Dante,” she called. “He doesn’t really belong to me; I just provide him an occasional meal and soft pillow.”
Touching her palms together as though in prayer, Khara bowed. “It is an honor to be in his presence.”
“I didn’t hear you, what did you say?”
He approached, his round body swaying from side to side. The presence of a cat was the shining beacon of hope Khara had been waiting for; it meant Victoria could be trusted. “How is it you possess the affinity?” he asked, the pupils of his jade eyes opening wide. Khara reached down to stroke his silky fur. “It must be this,” she replied, and showed him Nandor’s cuff. He sniffed it indifferently. “Of course, I also pray faithfully for the balance, harmony, and intuition the Goddess Bastet promises.”
He stopped in his tracks, turning his spectral gaze upon her. “So the old ways are not completely forgotten.” Moving closer, he pushed his head against her willing hand.
“Old ways? Tell me, all-knowing one,” she whispered, leaning close to his ear. “What kingdom is this?”
“I cannot say.”
Khara knew well that his divinity entitled him to swing from benevolent to cruel in a single moment. It was unwise to press further and risk an undeserved curse, which she had no doubt could be hurled from his paws in an instant.
“Where am I?” she whispered.
He blinked. “In the home of my mistress, where no harm will come to you.”
Victoria joined them at the table. “Here, boy,” she called reaching out to him with her free hand. He ignored her. Stretched out, his head resting on Khara’s foot, he could not have looked more insulted. “I’m not the dogcatcher, you know,” she said, rising to pull a bag of food from one of the cabinets, which she scattered into a small bowl decorated with blue footprints and set on the floor.
“Perhaps if you addressed him in the proper way,” Khara remonstrated gently, instructing the proper position of the hands.
Victoria groaned. “Really? This is too much. Now I have two sets of eyes scrutinizing my every move.” She set the blankets and pillows on the sofa. “You must be exhausted; I know I am. It’s been a rough day for us both. I think I’ll turn in early.” Pausing in the hallway, she added, “You’ll—we’ll both be better in the morning.”
Dante jumped onto the soft pile, showing Victoria his hindquarters and switching tail.
“Judas,” she said under her breath, sweeping by him on the way to her room.
Khara worried Victoria might return to throw her out, but gradually, the noises in the next room ceased. Even the sacred one abandoned her for the outdoors, leaving her blessedly alone.
The moon was well on its path through the sky when Khara tiptoed upstairs. In the light filtered through a single window above the bath, her reflection waited. Remembering how Victoria had made the room light, she pushed the knob up. Before tonight, she had only seen her image in bronze mirrors that tinged everything with an unflattering shade of mustard. Now Khara saw herself as others must see her. Unhurriedly, she explored her lean body, skimming her hands over her hip bones and across her belly before twisting to study her
“I am obligated to fulfill my father’s wish, regardless of my sex.”
“Hmm. Perhaps you should be drinking water instead.”
The humiliating silence that lingered in the room vanished instantly when a grey cat strode through the balcony door.
“Hey buddy,” Victoria called in a friendly way as she rose from the couch. “Where you been?”
Clearly she is unaware of how improper her greeting is , Khara thought, lacking the attention and respect required for a sacred beast. Gathering bedding from a cabinet in the next room, Victoria’s insolence continued. “Meet Dante,” she called. “He doesn’t really belong to me; I just provide him an occasional meal and soft pillow.”
Touching her palms together as though in prayer, Khara bowed. “It is an honor to be in his presence.”
“I didn’t hear you, what did you say?”
He approached, his round body swaying from side to side. The presence of a cat was the shining beacon of hope Khara had been waiting for; it meant Victoria could be trusted. “How is it you possess the affinity?” he asked, the pupils of his jade eyes opening wide. Khara reached down to stroke his silky fur. “It must be this,” she replied, and showed him Nandor’s cuff. He sniffed it indifferently. “Of course, I also pray faithfully for the balance, harmony, and intuition the Goddess Bastet promises.”
He stopped in his tracks, turning his spectral gaze upon her. “So the old ways are not completely forgotten.” Moving closer, he pushed his head against her willing hand.
“Old ways? Tell me, all-knowing one,” she whispered, leaning close to his ear. “What kingdom is this?”
“I cannot say.”
Khara knew well that his divinity entitled him to swing from benevolent to cruel in a single moment. It was unwise to press further and risk an undeserved curse, which she had no doubt could be hurled from his paws in an instant.
“Where am I?” she whispered.
He blinked. “In the home of my mistress, where no harm will come to you.”
Victoria joined them at the table. “Here, boy,” she called reaching out to him with her free hand. He ignored her. Stretched out, his head resting on Khara’s foot, he could not have looked more insulted. “I’m not the dogcatcher, you know,” she said, rising to pull a bag of food from one of the cabinets, which she scattered into a small bowl decorated with blue footprints and set on the floor.
“Perhaps if you addressed him in the proper way,” Khara remonstrated gently, instructing the proper position of the hands.
Victoria groaned. “Really? This is too much. Now I have two sets of eyes scrutinizing my every move.” She set the blankets and pillows on the sofa. “You must be exhausted; I know I am. It’s been a rough day for us both. I think I’ll turn in early.” Pausing in the hallway, she added, “You’ll—we’ll both be better in the morning.”
Dante jumped onto the soft pile, showing Victoria his hindquarters and switching tail.
“Judas,” she said under her breath, sweeping by him on the way to her room.
Khara worried Victoria might return to throw her out, but gradually, the noises in the next room ceased. Even the sacred one abandoned her for the outdoors, leaving her blessedly alone.
The moon was well on its path through the sky when Khara tiptoed upstairs. In the light filtered through a single window above the bath, her reflection waited. Remembering how Victoria had made the room light, she pushed the knob up. Before tonight, she had only seen her image in bronze mirrors that tinged everything with an unflattering shade of mustard. Now Khara saw herself as others must see her. Unhurriedly, she explored her lean body, skimming her hands over her hip bones and across her belly before twisting to study her
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