‘Is the goddess truly within you?’ she whispered. ‘The lioness who protects her cubs. Have you returned to protect me?’

  Myssa sprawled on her belly and rested her head in her hands so she could stare back into those bewilderingly mysterious eyes.

  The cat did not break eye contact, and Myssa felt something shift deep inside her as she sank into their depths. The whispers of Tallus’ voice that had been a constant companion since she had been taken captive receded.

  In its silent intensity, the cat called to a long-lost part of her.

  P

  iay crept towards the oasis. In Ankhu’s white robe and purple scarf, he would have looked like just another desert wanderer, but so far as he could tell, the Hyksos war band had not posted any guards. Why would they? Who would dare challenge them out there in the wastes?

  He cocked his head, listening to the low rumble of the voices around the campfire. The warriors were settled, perhaps drunk.

  From his vantage point, he’d watched Myssa stand in the entrance to her tent. It was far enough away from where the fighting men lounged for him to attempt his plan. He laughed silently at that word. It was no plan at all – worse even than all his other plans. It was simply one final attempt to break through whatever had bewitched Myssa.

  Piay felt his life repeating itself. As a small boy, he had desperately wanted to believe that his parents loved him enough to come back for him. Now he was letting the same wretched, vain hope possess him again. His whole strategy rested on a childlike faith that some part of her love for him still lay buried within Myssa – that with all his sorcery and potions, the Cobra could not forever eradicate the Myssa that was, that had been.

  In every act of recklessness he had been condemned for over the years, Piay had never been this rash. But it was all he had left. And if he did not live to see the dawn, he would know in his final reckoning that he had done all he could to rescue the one who was more valuable to him than life itself.

  Creeping along the edge of the camp, he made his way to the tent where Myssa slept. On the threshold, he sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself, and then he slipped through the flaps.

  Myssa lay on the ground, staring into the eyes of Bast as if she was caught under another spell. Piay gaped. He had left the perplexing creature at the camp by the great monument. There was no way under the heavens that it could be here. And yet it was.

  At first Myssa did not stir, but then she blinked once, twice, and broke whatever strange connection she had with the feline. When she noticed Piay, she jumped to her feet.

  Myssa’s face seemed thinner and more drawn. There were hollows under her cheekbones and around her eyes that he had never noticed before. But that fleeting impression vanished from his mind at the sight of the knife in her hand.

  ‘Take one more step and you’ll be dead,’ she hissed.

  Piay reached out his hands. ‘I have no weapons. I am no threat to you.’

  ‘Are you mad to come here unarmed? To come here at all, into the very heart of your enemy’s camp?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Piay replied. ‘Driven mad by my love for you.’

  Myssa sniffed. ‘Love!’

  Despite her contempt, her hard gaze flickered and the knife dropped a little lower. She reached down under a blanket and pulled out a pouch which she slung across her shoulder.

  ‘You’re wasting your breath.’

  ‘Maybe, but I have to speak with you. I couldn’t stay away.’

  Myssa snorted. ‘Your words won’t work on me.’ She twirled the blade. ‘You’re not getting your hands on the Eye or the Disc.’

  Piay let his arms fall to his sides, overwhelmed by the battle raging inside him. In his heart, everything paled beside his love for Myssa. Treasure beyond imagining. The fate of Egypt. Even the battles that consumed the gods.

  But more than ever, he now understood his duty.

  If he allowed the power and the riches stored away by Imhotep to fall into any other hands, he would be dooming all Egypt. On the one hand was his honour, on the other his heart.

  Myssa narrowed her eyes. ‘There was no reason to kill you before. You weren’t a threat. But all I have to do is call out and my men will come and drag you away, and this time there’ll be nothing that can save you. They’re brutal, the Hyksos. They’ll tie you between two horses and rip you apart.’

  Piay shrugged. ‘Let them.’

  Myssa shook her head with incredulity. ‘Whatever you imagine lies between us is long gone and will never return.’

  ‘The Cobra has you under a spell—’

  ‘I am my own woman!’

  Piay bit off his response, allowing space for her temper to cool. He could not risk their exchange being overheard.

  ‘You are filled with more fire than any person I know, man or woman,’ he began again, his voice lower but crackling with passion. ‘That’s not flattery, just the truth. Everything that lies within you, all the wit and the words, the passion and the kindness and the laughter, all of those things have me under a spell. And whatever that snake has told you, I could never see you as a slave, only as an equal.’

  Piay hesitated, then gave in to the heartfelt words tumbling out of him.

  ‘Myssa, without you I am nothing. I can’t exist without you at my side. I’d plead with you to overcome whatever sorcery the Cobra has worked on you, but in the end, this is your choice. I came here tonight to tell you how I felt, knowing that I could lose my life.’ He shrugged. ‘But what use is my life without you to share it with?’

  Myssa’s jaw dropped a little and her knife fell to her side.

  ‘Leave now,’ she said. ‘You have said what you needed to say. But leave now.’

  ‘You must choose,’ Piay pressed. ‘Come with me now. Whatever you hope to achieve with Imhotep’s secret, together we can find some way to make it happen. But I can’t allow such power to fall into any hands other than Taita’s. He’s the only one wise enough to use it without risking disaster.’

  Piay waited for Myssa to raise the alarm. He felt relieved when she did not.

  ‘Come with me,’ he repeated, reaching out a hand.

  He could see from Myssa’s face that there was a battle going on inside her. Had his words touched her? He could not be sure.

  Myssa shook her head. ‘I don’t know you. You stand before me as a stranger. I . . . I . . .’ she stuttered. ‘A part of me does know you, I feel that, but I do not know you,’ she added, bewildered.

  ‘You must know that your usefulness to the Cobra is nearing its end. He won’t hesitate to kill you.’

  Myssa’s face hardened. ‘If you think I don’t know how the Cobra’s mind works, you take me for a fool.’

  ‘One final time – come with me now.’

  ‘I reject you.’ Myssa stepped forward and Piay flinched, thinking she was going to stab her blade into his heart. Instead, she pushed past him. ‘I reject you. I don’t care about the games your master plays, or the Hyksos. I walk my own path. That hidden power and the gold will buy a new life for my people. I will never again have to suffer the miseries I have endured for so long. If you stand in my way, I will consider you my enemy, whatever we might have shared before.

  ‘Do not be here when I return,’ she added, before she flew out into the night.

  Piay felt his stomach twist. He had failed. He had appealed to Myssa’s heart and it had been for nothing. Perhaps the Cobra’s spell was too strong. Perhaps she truly believed what she said. But he could not give up. The consequences would be too terrible, for both of them . . . and for all Egypt.

  He pushed out after Myssa, unsure what his next step should be.

  Piay glimpsed her ahead, silhouetted against the glow rising from the campfire as she walked among the tents. He cursed under his breath. He could not follow.

  As he weighed his options, Piay noticed more silhouettes moving towards Myssa from the other side of the camp. Once they neared the fire, the dancing light revealed the Cobra and three of the acolytes.

  Piay crouched, peering through a gap in the tents. The Cobra tipped his staff forward so it was pointing at Myssa.

  ‘We were coming to find you,’ Tallus said. ‘We have been deep in discussion since your success within the Pyramid of Khufu.’

  Myssa’s shoulders tensed. Like Piay, she suspected no good would come of this confrontation.

  ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

  ‘We are close to the end of our quest,’ the Cobra said, ‘and we cannot afford any errors at this stage. The time has come to entrust the Eye of Horus and the Disc of Ra to our care, for safekeeping by men who can defend them with their lives.’

  ‘They stay in my hands,’ Myssa said.

  Tallus took a step towards her and Myssa stepped back.

  ‘We cannot afford any risks – not now,’ he said. ‘This is not a decision for you to take. Our minds are made up.’

  ‘No.’ Myssa’s voice cracked.

  Piay felt a burst of pride – Myssa would not be cowed by anyone – but with it came a pang of fear. The Cobra would not back down.

  ‘I know they are in that pouch that you always carry on your shoulder. The pouch you took from the Egyptian at the palace in Memphis. The pouch I gave to him.’

  Myssa took another step backwards. Piay watched her head turn slowly as she looked from the Cobra to the scribes and warriors, who had now risen to their feet around the fire.

  Piay sensed what was to happen next an instant before it unfolded.

  Someone lunged for the pouch on Myssa’s shoulder. Her right hand slashed down. The man nearest her screamed and fell back. Piay couldn’t see the blood from his position, but he knew it flowed.

  Then Myssa darted away into the dark.

  Piay’s heart pounded. Those warriors would be on her in no time, and that would be the end of her.

  He leaped to his feet and bellowed, ‘Strike now! While they are disorganised!’

  His ploy worked. The warriors wrenched out their swords and fell into a defensive circle around the Cobra and the scribes, their heads turning back and forth as they searched for attackers out in the night.

  Piay darted away before anyone could hurry in the direction of his voice. Weaving around the edge of the camp, he called out again, before racing in the opposite direction. At least he still had his knife with him, hidden in the kilt beneath his long robes.

  Stumbling in the dark, Piay’s nose filled with the stink of the horses. He regretted that he hadn’t paid more attention when Taita was discussing them, and had not taken up his master’s offer to learn how to ride. At the time he had felt that he had more important tasks, like drinking the pharaoh’s wine and seducing the women of the court.

  ‘Idiot!’ he cursed himself. But the horses might yet serve a purpose.

  Piay crashed against the makeshift pen, smashing down the fence and running among the stamping, snorting beasts, clapping his hands and exhorting them to move. In no time the horses were galloping out of their enclosure.

  From the direction of the fire, Piay heard cries of alarm rise up from the Hyksos warriors. Then he was racing away into the night.

  P

  iay left the Hyksos caught between rounding up their horses and preparing for an attack that would never come. He headed away from the camp, making a clear trail in the opposite direction from the one Myssa had taken. Then he looped around, erasing his tracks as he went, and set off after her.

  The sun had risen above the eastern horizon when Piay looked down from the rim of a dune and glimpsed a figure in the distance, heading across the wasteland. He skidded down the dune and drove himself forward. The Hyksos would long since have realised they had been tricked. It was only a matter of time before they would be bearing down on Myssa’s trail.

  Crouching, Piay wrapped Ankhu’s purple scarf around the lower part of his face to keep the dust out of his nose and mouth, and tried to remain out of Myssa’s sight. He ran at a crouch, taking cover behind the grey-bronze rocks that stabbed up from the ground like the fingers of some buried giant, diverting every now and then into hollows where he dipped below her eyeline, straightened up and ran faster. Piay knew how quickly Myssa could travel across even the roughest terrain. But, to his surprise, when he caught further glimpses of her, Piay saw that he was closing fast. Myssa was barely managing to walk, let alone run.

  As he came closer still, Piay saw the reason for her slow progress. Somehow Myssa had lost a sandal, and her foot was bloody from racing across sharp-edged stones. She was limping. Perhaps the pain also explained something else that was troubling him: How has she let me get so close without even seeming to notice?

  Piay dashed out from behind his final scrap of cover. Now Myssa noticed him. She reached for her knife and turned to face him, but her movements were slow and her grip weak. It was easy to knock the knife from her hand and then grasp her wrists before she could hit him.

  Myssa’s skin was hot to the touch – far hotter than it should have been, particularly given the pace at which she’d been going.

  ‘I am not here to harm you, only help,’ Piay said. ‘Look back.’

  Myssa glanced past his shoulder. She blinked, as if finding it hard to clear her vision. In the distance a cloud of dust billowed. The Cobra and his men were coming.

  ‘If they catch us, our lives are over, you know that.’

  Unfurling his fingers from her wrists, Piay stepped back and picked up Myssa’s knife. He offered it to her.

  ‘I am not here to harm you,’ he repeated as she took it from his hand.

  ‘We won’t be able to outrun them,’ Myssa said.

  Piay glanced back at the dust cloud and did a quick mental calculation.

  ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘Let’s do something about that foot.’

  ‘We don’t have time.’

  ‘It’s worth it if you can move faster.’

  He tore a strip from the bottom of his robe to use as a bandage.

  ‘Hope old Ankhu doesn’t mind!’ he said with a light laugh, trying to lift Myssa’s spirits.

  He’d never seen her so downcast. And now he looked at her in the daylight, he saw that his impression of her back at the oasis had been accurate. She had lost weight, and with it some of the strength and vigour he had always associated with her.

  ‘When did you last have a good meal?’ Piay asked, as he got down on his knees and took Myssa’s cut foot in his hands.

  She looked at him blankly, as if she had not even thought of food in an age. Suddenly she shivered convulsively, almost pulling her foot from his hands.

  ‘What’s the matter, my love?’ Piay said. ‘Are you sick? A fever, maybe?’ That might explain why she looked so unwell. Then another thought struck him and he asked, ‘Has the tomb done this to you?’

  Myssa shook her head. ‘No . . . not that. It’s just, I haven’t . . . I mean Tallus hasn’t . . . Ah . . .’ Her words petered out as if her mind could not form them.

  ‘Of course, it’s that bastard sorcerer,’ Piay said, as he tied the fabric tight around her foot. ‘I should have guessed.’

  He checked the finished bandage, then lifted Myssa to her feet and draped one of her arms across his shoulder. Glancing up at the position of the sun, Piay calculated the right direction and pointed.

  ‘That way.’

  Myssa didn’t question him. Piay led her down into gullies cut out of the dry desert by ancient waters, doing his best to hide their tracks by using all the skills he had long ago been taught by Taita.

  The bandage hadn’t worked. Though Piay tried all he could to ease her pain, Myssa was limping on her wounded foot. The time had been wasted.

  ‘I’ll carry you,’ Piay said, lifting her onto his back.

  Myssa wrapped her arms around his shoulder and he felt a shiver at her closeness. He breathed in her musk and felt her hair against his cheek and her breath against the back of his neck.

  ‘There is no hope, not now,’ Myssa said.

  As he picked up his stride, Piay replied, ‘There is always hope.’

  He was able to move faster when he carried Myssa than he had done when he was slowed by her walking. But even so, the dust cloud at their backs had been drawing inexorably nearer. Now Piay felt sure he could hear the beat of the Hyksos’ hooves.

  Then Piay heard another sound, this time from ahead. He grinned.

  ‘What is it?’ Myssa asked.

  ‘Hope.’

  He prayed he was right.

  Renewing his effort, Piay pushed on, racing towards the beat of marching feet that he could hear in front of them. Soon after he glimpsed what he had hoped for – the Blue Crocodile Guards, with Hannu among them, marching along the bearing Piay had indicated to Hannu before dispatching him to Memphis.

  Piay hailed the approaching force and soon he and Myssa were standing among the finest fighting men in all Egypt. The cloud of dust was still approaching, but it would stop soon enough. The Hyksos would not risk a fight with the guards.

  ‘You survived, then,’ Hannu growled.

  ‘The gods favour the brave,’ Piay replied, adding, ‘and fools.’

  Hannu nodded before eyeing Myssa. ‘Are you with us?’

  Myssa narrowed her eyes. ‘Expect no gratitude. I will not tell you what I discovered in the Pyramid of Khufu, not even under duress.’

  Piay eased the pouch from her shoulder. She didn’t resist – she knew it was pointless. Instead, she raised her chin in defiance and looked towards the horizon.

  ‘We would never force you to do anything,’ Piay said. ‘We will discover the pyramid’s secrets ourselves.’

  ‘W

  hy do we have to go inside the monument at night?’ Hannu asked.

  ‘Night or day, it will be dark inside,’ Piay pointed out.

  ‘Night is different.’

  The mountain of stone soared up ahead, a majestic sight silhouetted against the spray of milky stars. Now the labourers at the camp had ended their work for the day, all was at peace, though their toils had been only half-hearted since Adon the taskmaster had mysteriously disappeared.

  Piay studied the vast monument, letting its awesome presence settle on him. At night it seemed to hold even greater power, as if the wonder of the almost unimaginable passage of time since its construction was magnified by starlight.