Page 23 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
“Sun. Moon,” she muttered. There was a glyph that she did not know the meaning of, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she had seen it somewhere before.
Namir looked up at her with surprised eyes. “How do you know Badari?”
“Is that what it’s called?” Zahra asked, forgetting her task. She remembered now that Badari was the language of the people from which the Aurans descended, though it had not been used for many, many years. “My father has a passion for ancient languages. He taught me a few words when I was young.”
Before Namir could inquire further, Zahra pointed to a robed individual within the sphere of the first queen to host a Pa-sekhemty Feast. “Who is that?”
Namir sighed, following her gaze to the papyrus. “That is theHem-netjer. When the spell begins, the Hem-netjer is appointed to help if anything should go wrong.”
Zahra waited a moment before she spoke. “Something has gone wrong.”
“Yes,” Namir agreed, “but Zosar—I mean, the Hem-netjer—has not been able to help.”
Zahra raised an eyebrow. “But if it’s his job to?—”
“He does not understand,” Namir interrupted. “He thinks I can find her and I—” He rolled up the scroll and stood from his seat. “I already know all of this. I came here to find something of use.”
Zahra eyed the papyrus. “Is the Thoth here? Perhaps if you interacted with it?—”
“It is not here.” Namir took the oil lamp from her hand. “And the spell does not work like that. Yes, when the spell began, I had to hold it, but holding it again has done nothing to help.”
“Then we should speak to the Hem-netjer.” She knew from her father that the Hem-netjer—the high priest of Re—was a man of immense power. “Perhaps if you explained more of what happened the night you lost her?—”
Namir groaned, disappearing behind the shelves. “No, it will not work. He cannot help.”
“My King,” Zahra said, exasperated. “I can’t help you if you shut down my every suggestion. If you will not listen to my ideas, why did you ask me to help you?”
“I—” He grunted in frustration, knocking some objects off the shelves.
Zahra shut her mouth, and silence filled the room. After a few moments, Namir began sifting through the mess he had created on the floor.
Zahra sighed, collapsing into the chair he had abandoned. If she couldn’t convince him to go to the Hem-netjer,she would miss her chance to see her father. What was she to do if he stole the Thoth again?
The King himself was also a mystery. Zahra was frustrated at his secrecy, and she wished to be of more help than a servant would, but what did she have to offer?
Zahra glanced over at the shelves he hid behind. The King, it seemed, knew not what he wanted her to do. Perhaps he did not want her to do anything but be there. If what he said was true, not even his own sister knew of his predicament, and it appeared that Namir had tried hard to keep it that way. Why else had he silenced Zahra in front of the Vizier earlier?
He was embarrassed, she concluded, and starving for companionship, even if it was the companionship of an Ionian servant.
Zahra’s gaze caught hold of something on the floor. Across the way, by one of the shelves they had inspected, sat a small piece of papyrus. She glanced at Namir, who was still busycleaning his mess. She crawled across the floor on her knees and picked up the papyrus. It was old, its edges flaking. Upon it was writing in the Badari language. Most of it Zahra couldn’t understand, but she once again saw the glyphs forsunandmoondespite the little light that came from Namir’s oil lamp. She flipped the papyrus over. There were illustrations of the Pharaohs’ symbols, the most notable being two tall crowns.
Smaller than all of the others were two symbols. One was distinctly similar to the mark on Namir’s chest. It was a circular disk filled with black ink and circled about by a gold outline. The other mark was a pair of golden wings, which had an empty space within them, the shape and size of the circular disk.
Namir stood suddenly, making Zahra jump. “Come here. Come see this.”
Zahra, intrigued, got to her feet and joined his side, leaving the papyrus on the table. Namir handed her a brittle piece of papyrus, holding the oil lamp nearby so she could clearly see it.
The papyrus had endured well for its age, but the text was in a language she didn’t expect. “This is Ionic. Why is this here?”
Namir shrugged, twisting an object in his hand. It was a brilliant silver ring with a shimmering white crystal embedded within the metal on one end.
Zahra turned back to the papyrus. In the lower right-hand corner was a sketch of the ring Namir now had in his possession. Though there were some words she did not understand, Zahra sounded out the text under her breath. Namir stared at her expectantly.
The crystal was moonstone. Her mother had made jewelry with moonstone. Zahra’s people believed that the stone was precious: a tear from Selene. “It’s aboutsibyls. According to this, they were prophetesses of Selene, or Nebthet. They possessed great powers and prevented wars through her guidance.”
“I knew that already.” Namir crossed his arms. “There was another papyrus with a lengthy explanation of how they helped Aur during some great war centuries ago, but I wish to know what the ring is.”
Zahra sighed, continuing to examine the papyrus. There were sketches of hooded women, each bearing Selene’s symbol on her head: a crescent moon. The same symbol was engraved on the back of her necklace.
