“Mistress, are you all right?” The temple slave who’d played the double flute for our dance sat on her heels beside me.
I tried to answer and wound up vomiting a huge measure of silt-laden water. I coughed so hard that I nearly drowned a second time before I was able to whisper “thank you” to my rescuer. By then she was already paddling the little boat back to the shore. I sat up in time to see the crowd that was waiting to greet us on the bank downstream from Isis’s temple. The people gawked and clamored as we drew near, but no one came forward to help us land. I thought that was strange.
I saw the mob part as my family pushed their way through to the riverbank. Father waded out to us up to his waist into the shallows and I fell into his welcoming arms. Two other men, big and brawny, plunged past us as we came ashore. I looked back over Father’s shoulder and saw them take the slave girl out of the boat, carrying her between them. I smiled, happy to see my rescuer being given such kind treatment, until I got a closer look at the men’s faces. Scowling and cold-eyed, they dropped the girl to the ground as soon as they touched dry land, then got a fresh grip on her, dragging her away backward by the arms while she screamed and kicked in terror.
“No!” I cried, but my throat was raw from my ordeal and my protest was no more than a hoarse whisper. I dug my fingers into Father’s arms, pleading silently for him to do something. Didn’t he understand that I owed my life to that slave girl? Didn’t he care?
“Hush, my dearest, hush,” he murmured in my ear. “It can’t be helped. It can’t. She’s going to die. It’s the will of the gods.”
I don’t know how I came home again. Father must have carried me, even though I was much too big for that. I know I didn’t cry. What roused me from my shock was the touch of Bit-Bit’s hand ever so lightly on my cheek and her soft little voice whispering, “No tears. She hasn’t shed a single tear, Mother.”
“That’s bad. The gods alone know where her mind has fled. My poor, sweet child, to suffer so!” I heard Mery speak, but I didn’t see her or Bit-Bit, even though my sister was close enough to touch me. Slowly I became aware that I was lying on my back in complete darkness. How much time had passed since my return home?
“Is it night?” I asked.
“She’s back! She’s well! Her mind’s whole! Oh, my darling daughter!” Mery scooped me up in a flower-scented embrace, wetting my cheeks with the tears I was still unable to shed.
“Is it night?” I repeated insistently. I was suddenly afraid that I’d been unaware of the passing of many days, not just part of one. I freed myself from Mery’s arms and sat up on my own, peering into the darkness. “Where am I? Mother, tell me!”
I heard Mery gasp. In all the years since she’d come into our home as Father’s wife, I’d never called her Mother. It wasn’t because of any lack of love—I adored Mery, and she’d always treated me with the same kindness, care, and attention she gave to Bit-Bit, but even though I’d never known my birth mother, I felt that it would be disloyal to her memory if I called any other woman by that name.
“Oh my dear!” Mery exclaimed. “No, my Nefertiti, it’s not night yet. We’re only halfway through the afternoon.”
“Why is it so dark, then? Where am I?”
“You’re in your own bed. I had the servants hang a cloth over the door to keep out the light. I thought you would rest more calmly in the dark. Bit-Bit, see if you can fix that.” At her mother’s command, my little sister scampered away to yank the cloth aside. Daylight spilled into the room. Mery looked pleased. “Now, dear Nefertiti, what would you like to eat? You can have anything that would please you. I’ll send someone to the market if we don’t have what you want. Or we could go out together. The city’s filled with people celebrating the Festival of the Inundation. You can’t take three steps without finding someone selling delicacies to—”
“I don’t want to eat,” I said. “I want to know about the girl who saved me. Father said they were taking her away to die.” Mery was silent. “He was wrong, wasn’t he?” I pressed on. “He only saw them carrying her off, but how could he know what her master was going to do to her?”
Mery lowered her head. “When you fell into the sacred river, the high priest of Isis leaped to his feet and shouted that it was the will of the goddess and the desire of Hapy himself. Anyone who tried to pull you out would offend the god of the Inundation himself. She disobeyed him, and so—”
“That’s ridiculous! The gods don’t want our blood.”
“My dear one, do you really believe the gods wanted any of this?” Mery turned her head abruptly and stared at me with grim eyes. “Your misstep gave the high priest a golden gift, the chance to rid himself of your father’s troublesome investigation.”
“But Father can’t really do anything to touch him,” I said.
“Thieves hate watchdogs even when they can’t bite. Ay never would have let you drown even if it cost him his life, but that slave girl ran to the riverside, leaped into the first boat she found, and was paddling after you before he could take a step. She ruined her master’s scheme. She will die for that, not for any false charges of sacrilege.” She began to weep. “That poor girl. She didn’t look much older than you. We must never forget her, Nefertiti. I’ve spoken with your father. We’re going to build a small shrine for her, if we can learn her name, and honor her ka forever, even though she’s not an Egyptian.”