I fought back my fury. She was right: I couldn’t touch her. Where did all this spite come from? I wondered. These girls were always friendly to me before today. Why are they suddenly being so mean?
My answer came from a fourth girl, sharp-faced, tall, and gawky, but the best dancer of us all. “Shut up, you miserable swarm of locusts! You’re all just jealous because the high priest’s son wouldn’t ask any of you to be his wife even if his father commanded it! He’d sooner throw himself into the river and let the crocodiles have him.”
The four remaining girls gathered around me and joined their voices in agreement with my defender until the three who’d spit their venom at me retreated to one corner of the dancing ground, grumbling and making rude gestures. “Oh, I’m sure Isis likes that kind of behavior,” the tall dancer sneered.
We sat in our two separate groups until one of the temple priestesses came out and ordered us to prepare ourselves. The townsfolk were beginning to arrive, eager to honor Isis and be entertained at the same time. Our dancing space was a large, square platform of beaten earth atop a high stone wall at the river’s edge. It had steps leading down to the water, though at this time of year most of them were submerged. I wandered to the brink of the platform and enjoyed the fine view it gave me of the sacred river, with fine ships riding high on the current, smaller boats bobbing on the water or tethered to the bank nearby, and dense, green stands of bulrushes where crocodiles might lurk on the far shore. I was busy composing a poem in my head for Hapy, the god who had given us such beauty and bounty, when the priestess called me back to the shadow of the temple. It was time to dance.
The slave girls in their meager loincloths struck up the melody. Singing and clapping our hands, we wove across the dancing ground in single file, our feet tracing the path of the sacred river, our arms waving to imitate reeds bending beside the water. We sang as we danced, our voices backed by a choir of temple priests and priestesses who stood under a gaily striped linen canopy with the high priest and his most honored guests, the senior priests of Hapy’s temple. The crowds of ordinary citizens didn’t get to watch us so comfortably. They packed the two open sides of the dancing ground, their faces aglow with joy even though Aten’s burning disk was already high enough in the sky to stripe their bodies with sweat.
We danced on, the music growing faster. Mery’s gold bracelets and collars were heavy, but I refused to let their weight hold me down. The more I danced, the less anything else mattered—not the heat, not the stinging words I’d had to hear before, nothing. When we opened our arms to the heavens, threw back our heads and began to spin like lotus flowers caught in a whirlpool, I imagined that I was the flower and that I was blissfully free, riding the sacred river far into the north, to unknown cities, to marvelous adventures, to where my guardian sphinx stood watch over all, even over dreams.
I became so caught up in the spell of song and swirling motion that I closed my eyes, wanting to become a part of the music. I’d studied the steps of our dance so diligently that I was certain I could perform them in my sleep. I lifted my feet high, happily dancing in my chosen darkness, and didn’t realize that I’d made a terrible misjudgment until I heard one of the other dancers shout my name. My eyes snapped open, but a step too late: I’d danced to the edge of the platform, one foot on the beaten earth, one on the air. I tried to pull back, flailing my arms to balance myself, but I forgot about my thick gold bracelets. Their weight threw me off-center, and with my next breath I was plunging over the edge of the dancing ground, into the depths of the river.
I hit the water hard. The impact struck the breath out of my body. I thrashed wildly, water filling my nostrils. Even with my eyes open, I could see only murky shadows. The sacred river was in full flood, carrying rich black silt out of the southern mountains. It fogged and darkened the bright blue water, blinding me.
O Isis, help me! I prayed in terror. I danced for you. Don’tlet me die. Great Sphinx, you saved me once. Help me now! Stretchout your mighty paw and draw me out of the water.
I kicked as hard as I could. My legs tangled in my clinging linen dress, but somehow I found the strength to break the surface. I coughed, gasped, and gulped air, shaking water out of my eyes. With blurred, stinging eyes I looked all around, frantic to find the shore. My heart froze when I saw how far the current had carried me. I was well downstream from the thronged dancing ground, though I could still see the horror-stricken faces of the people who were watching me be carried away.
Why are they just standing there? I wondered desperately. Why don’t they do something? I was beginning to sink again, pulled down by my borrowed jewelry. I yanked off Mery’s bracelets and gave them to the river. Take these, generous Hapy, and let me go! I tried to give the god the collar around my neck as well, but my fingers fumbled over the fastening knot and I swallowed a fresh mouthful of the river. It was the same when I tried to tear off the gold collar I wore on my hair. Mery had anchored it too well. Choking on the muddy water, I lost my struggle to stay afloat. The sacred river closed over my head and I was submerged in darkness.
As my thoughts faded from panic to nothingness, something dug into my shoulder so painfully that it jerked me back from the brink of the underworld. The grip shifted from my shoulder to under my arm and I found myself being hauled back into the sweet, beautiful, precious air. My back scraped against something rough, I heard a loud whoof! in my ear, and then I was yanked out of the river entirely. I sprawled in the bottom of a small boat made from thick bundles of papyrus plants, a common vessel on the sacred river, but the face gazing down at me didn’t belong to a fisher man or a ferryman.