“Look, we have two fires.” I indicated the green glow of Ta-Miu’s eyes.
Nava was a smart girl and refused to be sweet-talked, but I couldn’t argue the matter with her anymore. Putting on Aunt Tiye’s air of command, I told her that whether or not she believed my promise to return, I had to go. “I will find my way back,” I told her. “Because I’ll know that you will be waiting.”
“And Amenophis,” Nava added.
“Yes. Always.” Amenophis’s voice sounded low in my ear. I whirled around to face him. “I heard what you said, Nefertiti,” he told me. “I only said ‘What?’ because I wanted—I want to hear you say those words again.”
I set the hunting bow aside and let my arms slide around his waist and rested my head on his chest. It was the most natural thing in the world for me to do. “I love you.” I couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper. I felt as if the two of us were standing in the presence of something greater, more humbling, more mysterious than the Great Sphinx of my dreams.
“I can’t—I can’t believe it.” The words rasped from his throat. “How can this be real? You’re so lovely, and I’m nothing but—Ow!” He jerked to one side, and both of us looked down to see Nava’s ferocious scowl. “Did you just pinch me?” Amenophis demanded.
“I had to,” Nava told him. “You were going to say something stupid. I’m happy that Nefertiti loves you. Why do you want to ruin it with a lot of silly questions?”
Amenophis inclined his head solemnly. “Your words are wise and true, O little biting flea. I’m going to tell my father to make you one of his counselors.”
“I accept,” Nava said just as solemnly, and the three of us burst into laughter.
With a kiss from Nava on my cheek and an even sweeter one from Amenophis on my lips, I left the cave to find us food and water. I kept my word about walking carefully. I really had no other choice: My feet were sore from all of the marching we’d done to reach our hillside shelter. Scratches and blisters crisscrossed and dotted the soles of my feet. I would have given the best jewels I owned for those mouse-fur sandals Amenophis had joked about.
At first I retraced the narrow trail we’d used to reach the cave, descending the hill. If I can backtrack on this path, maybe I can find that stream again. We came across it the day before we found the cave … I think. Or was it two days’ walk before that? I paused and surveyed my surroundings. I should be going uphill, not down, I decided, tilting my head back to look at the top of the nearest cliff. From up there, I’ll have a better view. I might see some greenery—that is, if it would look green by moonlight.
All of those days on the march had made me stronger. I wasn’t even breathing hard when I got to the summit. The moon was not full but still shed generous light over the land. I remembered the story Mery told to Bit-Bit and me about how the moon was one of the eyes of the god Horus, the hawk-headed son of Isis and Osiris. It held less light than the sun because wicked Set had struck it cruelly when Horus fought him to avenge Osiris’s murder.
O Horus, give me a hawk’s keen eyes tonight! Let me see the way to bringing fresh water and food back to save my dear ones. I prayed from the heart, my arms and face raised to the star-strewn night sky.
What was that in the distance? I gazed into the silvered dark, and a cluster of squarish shapes drew my attention. I caught my breath: houses! They were houses! I hadn’t seen them right away because they were small, humble dwellings built out of mud bricks. Even in daylight, their color would blend in with the land.
Who lives out here? I wondered. There are no fields to plow, no crops to harvest. I don’t know how far it is to the sacred river. Then I remembered where I was: in the land of the dead, where the rulers of the Black Land needed workmen close at hand to create and adorn their houses of eternity.
When I’d lived in the royal palace, I often heard two of my maids talking about their families. One of them spoke about a cousin of hers, a master painter whose wall paintings were highly prized: “Pharaoh himself has commanded him to decorate the walls and ceiling of the royal tomb! We’re all very proud of him, but it’s such a shame that all his best work is sealed away. We were very close as children, so I miss seeing him, but he has to live across the river in the village of the tomb workers. I hear there are almost forty families out there, maybe more, and their houses are made of whitewashed brick, all very fine. Of course, when he’s called to work on a wall painting, he has to spend his nights in—”
—a simple house like one of those, I thought. Not as fine as his home in the village, but closer to the valley of the kings.
I started down the rocky slope, turning my steps in the direction of the houses. Would I find them occupied or empty? I prayed that the houses sheltered enough tomb craftsmen for there to be plentiful supplies of food and water on hand. I prayed even more fervently that there would be few enough workers around so that I could avoid them easily. How could I explain my presence if they discovered me? How would they react if I told them I was seeking food and water for Amenophis? “So you say Pharaoh’s son is just on the other side of that hill, starving in a cave? Oh, yes, we believe you—that happens every other day around here!” They’d think I was a lunatic. Then they’d turn me in to the authorities. I had Thutmose’s bow and arrows for protection, but how could I use them against innocent, honest men?