The day waned, and the number of boats on the sacred river dwindled with every step we took. Soon we saw only the shining surface of the water, as empty and untouched as it must have looked on the first day of its creation. The tall palm trees on the western bank stroked shadowy fingers over the river and the land. The song of insects along the shore changed tone as those who roamed by daylight gave place to their night-flying cousins. Everywhere the birds were settling down to sleep. Earlier that day, we’d raided their nests for eggs to eat, though we all would have preferred to have something meatier in our stomachs.
I shaded my eyes to see how Ra’s great sun-ship touched the mountain peaks shielding the royal tombs. The sky spread out banners of crimson and gold to greet the god as he descended into the underworld. All the land was preparing for night when we finally encountered the mouth of an irrigation canal.
“At last!” Amenophis exclaimed, starting to follow its path away from the river.
“Hadn’t we better stop for the night?” I said. “It’s going to be too dark to see where we’re going.”
“There’s still plenty of light.”
“For how long? Amenophis, we won’t be able to get far once it’s dark. How will we find a safe place to spend the night? Better to rest here now, where we know we’ll be sheltered by the river plants.”
“It’s better to get as far from Thutmose’s men as we can while we can,” he argued. “Let’s go.”
I pressed my lips together and folded my arms. One moment I’m admiring how commanding he’s become; the next I’m ready to shove him into the river because he’s commanding me! Sweet Isis, give me patience.
Amenophis met my stubborn look with one of his own, but he couldn’t outlast me. “Oh, all right,” he finally said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We’ll sleep among the rushes if you’re too afraid to go on.”
I started to protest, then bit my tongue. This is the best place for us tonight; I know it, I thought. I don’t care if Amenophis believes I’m afraid; as long as he and Nava stay safe, I don’t care if he calls me seven kinds of coward!
We found a place where the reeds didn’t show the same juicy green as their neighbors because the ground humped up, lifting them farther from the water. I moved as quietly as I could, pushing down the faded plants until I’d made them into a crude mattress for us.
“It looks like a nest!” Nava declared. She settled into the center of it happily.
“Too bad it doesn’t hold more eggs,” I said. It was a joke, but one made on an empty stomach.
“Are you hungry, Nefertiti?” Amenophis didn’t wait for me to reply. “So am I. You two wait here; I’ll try to find us something to eat.” He vanished into the surrounding greenery before I could stop him.
Nava and I curled up together to await his return. He was away for a long time. I watched the patch of sky overhead lose more and more light until I saw the first pale sprinkling of stars. Nava and I had been passing the time by whispering stories to one another. She told me many of her people’s tales, including the wondrous story of how it all began when the One first spoke to a Habiru man in the Land of Two Rivers. In exchange, I told her stories about Isis and the child Horus and all the adventures they had while fleeing the wicked god Set. Her eyes always lit up with delight when I got to the scariest parts.
“You know, Nava, I don’t remember having such a taste for bloodcurdling stories when I was your age,” I remarked.
“I’m sorry you can’t remember things,” she replied. “You shouldn’t worry about it—that happens to old people.”
I had to laugh. “What I meant to say—to ask—is why do you like hearing such frightening things?”
She shrugged. “Because they’re not real. And because I know they’re going to be over.” She cast worried looks into the rushes surrounding us. “Not like now, waiting for Amenophis to come back. Do you know how much longer he’ll be gone, Nefertiti?”
“Oh, not much longer,” I said, forcing myself to sound confident. “Now whose turn is it to tell a story?”
As Nava was in the middle of telling me about a disobedient woman who was turned into salt, the rushes rattled and Amenophis dropped to his knees beside her. He smiled as he extended his cupped hands.
“More eggs!” Nava was overjoyed.
“Not as many as I’d like, but they’re better than nothing,” he told us. “Don’t eat them until you’ve smelled them. There wasn’t any sign of the mother bird near the nest; if they’ve been abandoned for several days, they might be rotten.”
I took one of the tiny eggs from his hands and cracked it delicately with a fingernail, then peeled away a shard of shell and sniffed. “They’re good.” I downed it in one gulp and cast my eyes over the remaining eggs, counting them to myself.
Amenophis saw what I was doing. “Here, have another. There were six of them to start, so we each get two.” He handed out our portions and pretended not to notice when I pressed my second egg into Nava’s hands. I, in turn, did the same when he shared his scanty meal with the little girl.
“I have something even better than eggs to share with you,” he said when we’d finished—which didn’t take long. “I found a house not too far up the canal!”
“A house!” Nava and I exclaimed as one. Visions of bread, beans, the simplest foods all danced before my eyes, more beautiful than the finest feast. “If we offer to help the people with their work, do you think they’d share—”
“There were no people.” Amenophis shifted awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more accurate: I found a deserted house beside the canal. A—a ruin, really. The roof’s gone, as are two of the walls. I—I got your hopes up for nothing. Forgive me.”
“Two walls are better than none,” I said. “We can see it for ourselves tomorrow. But is that why you took so long coming back to us? Because you were exploring in the dark?” I frowned at him. “You could’ve fallen into the ditch! And what if you’d stumbled across some night-prowling beast?”
He flinched so much that I imagine I must have looked just like Aunt Tiye at her sternest. “It wasn’t—wasn’t dark,” he countered. “And I had to search out the way ahead. You didn’t want to go on because you were afraid of trying an unknown path, so I looked into it.”
I gritted my teeth and took a deep breath. I’d told myself that it wasn’t important if he thought I was a coward. I’d told myself it didn’t matter.