“So, let me see if I have this straight in my brain: Duat isn’t just the name of the cruise line, it’s also a place.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Gilukhipa (who I learned was called Gilly), lay stretched out on a lounge chair next to the small pool on the upper deck of the ship. We were both in the shade, the morning sun being a lot stronger than what I was used to in northern California, and on my other side, Mrs. P lay on an identical lounge, rubbing lotion onto her bare legs. Scattered around and in the pool, the other ladies either sunbathed, swam, or sucked back fruity beverages of an alcoholic nature.
“And it’s the Egyptian Underworld, this Duat place?” I asked, wondering why I wasn’t surprised to find out that there were such things as cruises to Hell. Then again, in the last few days, I’d discovered I was a kick-ass dragon’s mate, had witnessed a perfectly normal man turn into a dragon, and met an actual god. A little cruise into the Underworld was nothing after all that.
“It is. People’s Ba and Ka travel through it, you see.”
“Ba and Ka? That’s… what?”
“The Ka is the soul,” Mrs. P answered suddenly, causing me to skew around in my own lounge chair and look at her. I frowned. There was something different about her. Something else different than the night before.
“And the Ba is the physical form that houses the Ka,” Gilly said, nodding. “You must have both to travel through Duat and reach paradise. That’s why those ancient mortal Egyptians mummified bodies—it was their way of preserving the Ba so it could meet up with the Ka, and be put back together in the divine realm.”
“Did you get a wig with your costume?” I asked Mrs. P, still trying to pinpoint what it was that was different. Earlier this morning, we’d dropped our clothing off at the ship’s tiny cleaning service, then trooped into the shop and come away with a cowgirl outfit for Mrs. P and a female swashbuckling ensemble for me (which had a gorgeous black frock coat with metal fastenings at the front, red sash, white lace at the wrists, and a short above-knee lace skirt). But it was the tricorne hat and cutlass that sold me on it. The other ladies declined getting costumes, but did give the shop lady a run for her money on sunscreen.
Mrs. P touched her hair, which was gathered into a low bun. Her hair when I first met her was short, white, and floofy… now it was a pale brown with threads of silver, and probably down to her shoulder blades. Her eyes also seemed different. They were still a soft blue, but the outer rings of her irises were darker, the color of which appeared to be leeching inward. And then there was the fact that she seemed to have lost even more wrinkles on her neck and face.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was growing younger right before my eyes.
“I don’t need a wig. My hair is long enough to sit on, although I kept it short for my hoochie-coo dancing. Teddy used to tell me I was his little tomboy.” She covered her mouth as she giggled. “He was such a bear of a man. Hahaha.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I said, nodding but still watching her closely, just in case she was going to change any more. “Teddy Roosevelt. Bear. Ha. Did you get contacts, too?”
She smiled at me, but said nothing, just closed her eyes and settled back for a nap.
Gilly was more than happy to fill the resulting silence. “I like your costume. And how clever of you to wear a different one every day! It makes the cruise so much more fun, don’t you think? I just hope you don’t get blood on it.”
I was still pondering the changes to Mrs. P when Gilly’s words sank in. I swiveled around to look at her. “Blood? What blood? I’m not due for that for a few months, when my shot wears off. Sorry, that was TMI, but if you’re worried about me messing up this pretty lace skirt—”
“No, no, of course I would never mention something so intimate!” She looked downright shocked at such a thought. “I meant, of course, the first challenge. That’s why you’re here, right?”
I blinked at her, as if that would make my brain work better. “What challenge? What blood?”
She pursed her lips. “Oh dear, weren’t you at the briefing last night?”
“No. I… uh…” My cheeks immediately turned bright pink when I thought of how Rowan and I had spent the night. After dallying in his cabin for a bit, we had moved to mine, since I still felt obligated to keep an eye on Mrs. P despite her clump of priestesses underfoot. Plus, I had a sneaking suspicion that they’d claim my room if I left it vacant for too long. I’d left Rowan sleeping when Mrs. P and I—with the models in tow—had gone off to find clean clothes. “I was busy last night.”
“Aset, darling, did you hear?” Gilly tattled. “Your champion did not go to the briefing last night.”
I shot her a glare before glancing at Mrs. P and immediately doing a double take. Mrs. P, who waved a languid hand at Gilly, appeared even younger than just a minute before. “Eh. She’s a dragon.”