The Amulet of Amon-Ra by Leslie Carmichael

a plate.
    The last of the sunlight was just disappearing as they carried the dishes into the larger main room. Ramose was lighting several tiny clay oil lamps with a burning taper. Some he placed on the floor, and the others he hung from the ceiling. He had changed into a cleaner kilt.
    â€œRa goes to bed and Nut will soon watch over us,” he said.
    â€œMay it always be so,” said Meryt-Re. “Go change, Mentmose.”
    She turned to Jennifer and gestured that she should turn around. Jennifer did so, brushing at the front of her dress. A few crumbs fell, but she had managed not to spill anything on it. Meryt-Re nodded, satisfied.
    â€œBy Bes, that smells wonderful,” said Ramose. “You’ve outdone yourself, my dear.”
    â€œI only hope my humble efforts are enough,” said Meryt-Re, twisting her hands together. “Oh, I’m so nervous, Ramose. What if he doesn’t like it?”
    Ramose put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m nervous, too,” he admitted. “But we will show this Ka-Aper that we are capable of entertaining even the greatest of guests. Why, if the Pharaoh herself walked through our door, she would be impressed. Unless she has no taste.”
    â€œRamose! You should not speak of her so,” said Meryt-Re. “What if someone heard you?”
    There was a knock on the door, startling them apart. Ramose opened it. Tetisheri stood in the doorway, bright-eyed and smiling. She wore a long white dress like Jennifer’s, and gold earrings drooped from her ears, matching the necklace she had shown Jennifer in the market.
    â€œAm I late?” she asked. “I wanted to come earlier, but first Father needed my help sorting his correspondence and then Mother wanted me to attend her when she went visiting, and then I had to change, and . . .”
    â€œIt’s all right, Teti,” said Meryt-Re. “Our guest will be here shortly. But I should change, too. And get some scent balls for all of us!” She dashed up the stairs before Jennifer could puzzle out this reference, just as Mentmose was descending.
    â€œHello, Mentmose,” said Tetisheri, her eyes shining.
    He grunted in response. At a look from his father, he relented. “Hello, Tetisheri. That’s a pretty outfit.”
    Tetisheri seemed to physically swell at this praise. She seized Mentmose in one hand and Jennifer in the other and towed them both into a corner, where she proceeded to tell them every detail of her trip to the market and to her mother’s friend’s house.
    Jennifer glanced up at the window in the main room. Outside, the sky was darkening. The murmur of foot traffic seemed to have lessened considerably. She could hear voices, coming closer, although she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
    Meryt-Re dashed back down the stairs in a clean, white dress, a small bag swinging from one hand, just in time to hear a knock on their front door. Ramose swung it open and Neferhotep stepped inside, then gestured for his companion to follow. The man ducked under the sill and into the house, his face shadowed.
    â€œWelcome, Ka-Aper, Reverend Sir,” said Ramose, bowing. “We are honored by your presence.”
    â€œIt is I who am honored,” Ka-Aper said in a deep voice. He stepped into the light cast by the overhead oil lamps.
    Jennifer took a step backwards. It was the man she had seen in the street, walking under the striped canopy.

The sun was long gone and the remains of their meal were laid out on the mat, reduced to nothing but crumbs and bones. Ka-Aper had eaten from the duck dish, but had only had a few bites of everything else except the fish, which both he and Neferhotep had refused. Neferhotep had murmured to Meryt-Re that they followed the ancient tradition of priests not eating fish. Meryt-Re had looked stricken, but Neferhotep apologized for not telling her earlier.
    Most of the time, Ka-Aper had seemed polite and