Though he pouted, the little prince let himself be swept up into the slave’s arms and taken from the room. Amestris drew in a long breath. Much as she would love
spending her morning with her children, she could not. Ahura Mazda would not allow it.
She closed her eyes again and focused once more on prayer. For the last few months, her thoughts had been troubled by Haman’s message. She was confident in her advice to
await an opportunity to rid the king of the Jewess and her influence. But the heaviness in her spirit told her time was running short.
A ferocious need had awakened her before dawn stained the sky. She had ordered all her servants, all the palace, all of Susa to pray. Everyone knew the king’s army would
leave Sardis on this day, the war officially begun. They were told to pray for victory.
Victory could not come as long as Xerxes was ruled by the Jewish witch. “Ahura Mazda, show us how to serve you in this. Use your servants to rid the empire of this poison.
Let not another day pass without demonstrating your might. Let your presence overshadow the king so that he might recognize the enemy beside him. Let your presence
overshadow them all.”
*
Sardis, Lydia
Haman followed the invisible tug, let his feet go where they willed. There was still much to do before they set off for Abydus in half an hour’s time, much he should attend
to. But the pull on his spirit was too strong to ignore.
He found himself outside the palace. His gaze tracked to the solitary figure gripping the wall.
The Jewess. All alone.
Purpose surged through him. One push, that was all it would take to send her over the wall and to her death on the rocks below. But he took only a step before a distant bark
broke through the fog in his mind. He saw the dog nowhere, but still fear battled his determination. She was not truly alone, surely. One of her guards always lingered
nearby, as well as that snarling beast. He could not . . . he dare not . . .
He closed his eyes. “My god, if this is what you would have me do, you must help me. Send one of your servants to fill me with your might.”
One second, he felt only his own wavering resolve. In the next, he jerked, gasped, and knew he was not alone in the shell of his body. His arms, when he lifted them, felt
doubly strong. His legs, when he stepped, seemed to shake the very earth. His eyes, when they focused on the Jewess, sent an arrow of pure hatred straight to his heart.
Enemy of the god! He felt his lips peel back, felt his soul vibrate in expectation with each thundering footfall.
The god must have stopped her ears, for she did not seem to hear him coming. Her fingers gripped the stone until her knuckles went white. Perhaps her soul recognized
damnation yawning before her.
No hesitation now. His arms came up, his muscles coiled, ready to pounce. A blood-curdling cry spilled from his lips as he lunged.
And a single refrain echoed through his mind—Let your presence overshadow us!
Nineteen
The earth rushed up to attack her. Stones hurled themselves at her, branches stretched for a chance to scratch and gouge. Kasia’s ears still rang with the yell of doom—a
second cry tangled with it, one of agonizing fear. Hers.
The world spun, a confused mass of soil and sky, rock and tree. She tried to pull arms and legs up to protect her abdomen, but the cruel ground tugged them loose again.
With stillness came a sickening crack in her head. The crags and crevices of the boulder underneath her dug into tender flesh. She tried to take a breath—it seared her
chest like fire.
And like smoke, darkness surged over the sky.
Was this death? This slinking, slithering blackness that descended from above until all light was blotted out? Did her vision dim, or the heavens themselves?
She wanted to lift her arms, to settle her hands on the precious life within her womb, but the heavy limbs would not obey her. Everything wavered, winked.
“No.” She struggled to sit up but could only lie there and watch the darkness come. “Jehovah—”
The muscles in her abdomen fisted, screamed. Tears blurred the edges of the darkness. “Jehovah, save me.”
A streak of blinding white pierced the blackened sky.
*
Had he gone blind? Half wondering if he dreamed, Xerxes spun around. Blackness, everywhere. “Zethar!”
“Here, master.” His servant’s usually-strong voice shook. “What manner of devil is this? The sun shone brightly a moment ago—the sky was cloudless.”
Xerxes took a deep breath so his heart would quit its frantic galloping. “Clouds cannot cause darkness like this, nor can an eclipse.”
“I will call the magi.”
“Torches first, man. We must see.” He knew Zethar would obey but could not make out his retreating form in the darkness.
He closed his eyes against the lack of vision and listened. There, the sound of his servant’s familiar stride, moving away. There, animals whinnying and braying, snarling
and growling. Was that Zad, barking as if a demon were on his tail?
“Father? What is this?”
Xerxes opened his eyes but did not see Darius. “I do not know, my son.”
“My lord.” Artabanas’s voice, from nearby.
“Here, uncle.”