Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) by Merrie P. Wycoff Page A

generations. The Sesh worship this lineage.”
     
“Could they do that to us, Father?” I asked and rubbed the middle of my forehead.
     
“It is quite possible,” he said.
     
My heart ached and I climbed upon his knee. “Just stay home with us.”
     
“I have duties, Beloved. The Pharaoh demands that I oversee the final construction on his mortuary temple, yet he changes his plans daily. I am torn to pieces supervising every detail.”
     
Hep-Mut arrived and noted the intensity of the conversation.
     
“The Pharaoh’s memory has become as useless as a candle in a sandstorm.” Meti leaned closer to his ear. “Yet these moments of senility that dim his mind seem to increase his libido. I hear he beds all the chambermaids along with those Royal Ornaments.”
     
The dwarf ’s eyes grew wide. “Merit-Aten, let us go feed the fish.”
     
I ran to Hep-Mut, thankful to leave my parents’ discussion. Could someone else steal the throne? We entered the grand courtyard that separated our chambers from Sit-Amun’s. Thoughts of danger swirled in my mind.
     
“Noonday meal will be set out for us,” said Hep-Mut. “The sun is already bright against the whitewashed buildings. You could burn your eyes. I should fetch the kohl liner. Sit and wait.”
     
Never having been alone in the courtyard, it held a great mystery to my eyes. Walking the tiled path toward the pool, the lush garden blossomed with fragrant yellow acacias.
     
Hoooop. Hooop. Hooop. A little Hoopoe bird teased from a branch, just a bit farther than the pool. Every time I drew close, my exotic bird flew to the next bush, calling, Follow me .
     
Just as I parted the thick foliage of a drom palm, my eyes gazed upon a vision. Resting in a niche in the wall, inlaid with turquoise stars, stood a golden statue of a man. Below the golden man lay a lovely alabaster vase of chrysanthemums, next to a feast.
     
“Oooooooo, my lunch.” I plopped down and stuffed a honey cake in my mouth and drank the glass of beer. Eewww. Adult beer. Too strong .
     
Next to the delicacies, a palm-sized carved amulet glistened. Not just any token, but that of an ivory prancing horse with peridot green eyes and a tail and mane of real white horse hair. I galloped the icon up my arm and forced the two front legs up high. How did Hep-Mut know I loved horses? I belched. The posted guards paid no attention.
     
Something grunted. Maybe an animal had escaped from Grand Djedti’s zoo. I wandered toward the sound, clasping my little horse. What luck to find an amulet. Faraway, I heard my name. Grunting. A wild animal.
     
“Here, kitty,” I called, like I would call Grand Djedti Ti-Yee’s little cat, Tau Miu.
     
Maybe it hid in that red tent. Lengths of folded red linen tied with colorful cords flapped in the breeze. The grunting became rhythmic. I snuck in. Candles glittered. My eyes became accustomed to the dark. On a plush mattress upon a round pedestal, a woman on all fours cried from being pushed by a man kneeling behind. She threw back her head, covered by a thick black braided wig. Beads of sweat dotted her skin. The scarlet scarf wrapped about her waist matched her blush.
     
The woman moaned in agony then recited some ancient text. The words chilled me. Black swirls of smoke poured forth from their noses and mouths. Did their souls leave their body? She recited her incantation louder and the man’s hips thrust hard. The unfolding horrors left me queasy.
     
The man wore a panther skin over his shoulder, the insignia of a High Amun official. Frozen in my place, my heart pounded. The woman tilted her face down. Sit-Amun! Danger. Fear. Escape.
     
Why did Hep-Mut leave me? I could crawl away. Sit-Amun would never know. There would be no reason to banish my family. The smoky swirls rotated faster. Her body took on a fiendish glow. Another form imposed itself over hers. Mesmerized, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. At the crescendo, Sit-Amun lifted a bowl above her head. Large