by Annie Dalton
With an angry hiss, the kitty jumped off Khamsin’s lap.
Maia appeared at the top of the steps. “You’re not still here!” she said accusingly.
“I had to stay,” I explained. “Her dad just died.”
She plumped herself down beside me. “I heard. Murdered if you believe the rumours. They’re saying his wife poisoned him so she could move her Roman boyfriend in.”
Poison. No wonder Khamsin’s dad died in such agony.
“They reckon Khamsin’s next on her hit list,” Maia added coolly as if she was commenting on the weather.
“You’re kidding!” I gasped, it hadn’t occurred to me that Khamsin was in actual physical danger as well as everything else. “If everyone knows, why don’t they report her?”
“Too scared!” grinned Maia. “She was a herbalist before she married and it seems she’s a leetle bit too interested in the dark side of her profession!”
Just at that moment Maia reminded me of Brice in his bad boy days. Maybe they’d seen so much horror in the Dark dimensions that one little murder more or less didn’t really register?
Maia let out a giggle. “I should really be a spy. It’s amazing what you find out! Apparently one of
Khamsin’s mum’s ancestors actually created a secret perfume for some famous queen.”
“Nefertiti,” I whispered. “The most beautiful woman in history.”
Maia seemed disappointed. “I’m surprised you heard. No one spoke about it even inside the family. The way they talked in the market, you’d think the perfume was magic, literally!”
“No man could refuse her anything when she wore it, “I said softly. “Khamsin’s mum inherited the recipe and dedicated her life to recreating it.”
Maia’s eyes narrowed. “You have been doing your homework! But Khamsin’s dad never told anyone about his wife’s amazing achievement. He thought if it got out someone might kill both him and Khamsin to get their hands on the secret papyrus!”
I shook my head. “That’s so sad. Khamsin’s step-mum never even knew about it but she killed him just the same.”
As if she’d heard, Khamsin suddenly jumped up. “I’m not sticking around to be her next victim,” she said aloud. “Queen Cleopatra didn’t sit around waiting for her enemies to murder her. I’m going to Alexandria to seek my fortune.”
And she went rushing off down the steps.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened! I’d spent DAYS trying to get through to Sky. Khamsin had turned her life around in minutes.
I felt the little cat brush past my ankles as we followed Khamsin back into the house.
Her bedroom was just an alcove, with an old curtain pulled across. She threw a few clothes into a basket and I thought she was going to fly straight out of the house.
Instead she grabbed one of the lamps, using the feeble light to help her select several tiny bottles from the perfume blending room, hastily stowing them in her bag. Next Khamsin ran her eyes along a cluttered work bench, swooping on various perfume making implements, including a dropper.
Finally she fished something down from the lintel above the workroom door. The key to the chest.
Almost as tall as Khamsin, the chest was divided into shallow drawers. Each drawer had its own keyhole above a label in faded red-painted hieroglyphics.
Khamsin unlocked one of the drawers and slid it open, releasing an earthy yet deeply soulful scent. I’d smelled frankincense before in Nero’s Rome, and I knew that in ancient times this sweet-smelling resin was almost as precious as rubies.
Khamsin’s hands shook as she removed the flat ebony box from the drawer and dropped it into her bag. The slightest sound from the street outside made her jump, but she controlled her trembling as she carefully lifted out the papyrus.
She unrolled a few centimetres and got a surprise. There were two scrolls: a newer papyrus concealing the fragile yellowing one inside. Khamsin caught her breath as she saw the hieroglyphics at the top of the outer scroll, the notes her mum had scribbled on her experiments.
Khamsin’s breathing was genuinely panicky now. This was all taking too long. What if they came back and caught her trying to run away? She frantically unfastened her belt, pulled up her dress and quickly concealed the scrolls next to her skin, retying her belt tightly to keep them in place.
“Naughty girly,” murmured Maia.
“It’s not stealing,” I said defensively. “Her parents wanted her to have them.”
“She’s a bright cookie anyway. If Queen Cleopatra is serious about bringing Egypt into a new golden age, having Nefertiti’s perfume would give her a head start.”
My mouth dropped open. “I thought Khamsin wanted those scrolls because they were her mum’s!”
“Wake up sweetie! If that is Nefertiti’s perfume recipe she’s just stuffed up her jumper, little Cinders here has got herself a meal ticket for life!”
I can be so dumb. When Khamsin said she was going to seek her fortune, she totally meant it!
Maia gave me a playful poke in the ribs. “That’s the problem with angel schools. They teach all this wussy stuff about love and light. In Hell school they’re more into evil motives and strategies!”
Khamsin opened the front door a crack, glancing nervously up the street. The little cat rubbed against her ankles mewing anxiously. Suddenly Khamsin scooped the kitty up and popped it into her basket. “She’s never taking the cat!” Maia sounded appalled. The kitty immediately made herself at home among Khamsin’s clothes, treading and kneading with her paws, like, OK, it’s a little cramped but I can work with this!
Maia peered at me astonished. “Are you smiling
or crying?”
I didn’t even know myself. I just knew that before the PODS got into her head, my Sky would have taken the kitty too.
Chapter Thirteen
I don’t know how Khamsin knew where she was going! All the streets were pitch black, except for the odd glimmery window.
Maia puffed out her cheeks as we hurried along. “So what’s the new game plan?”
“Well, we have to keep Khamsin safe,” I said, just stopping myself from adding, “Obviously.”
“Seems a bit random,” she objected. “Safe from what exactly?”
“From her psycho step-mum for starters! Also any unsavoury cosmic influences that might decide to take advantage while she’s in such a vulnerable space.”
Maia laughed, though I didn’t think I’d said anything funny.
“So we’re babysitting her basically,” she said in a sneering voice. “And how long do you plan on keeping this up?’”
I tried to imagine Lola asking how long we’d have to take care of a needy human. But being snotty with Maia wasn’t going to improve her rusty angel skills. Tact and encouragement were what she needed.
“It takes as long as it takes, babe,” I said as gently as I could. “This is a dangerous—”
“—time for her, yeah, I got that. Personally I preferred Plan A: Saving Cleo. Way more high profile.”
I saw Maia’s teeth flash in the dark as she let out another of her random giggles. “You should see your face! You thought I was serious!” She hooked her arm through mine.” We’ll beat off those Evil Bean Pods, sweetie, don’t you worry!”
Khamsin reached the gates just as the watchman was urgently shepherding the last volunteers out of the city. Some people were leading pack mules, their hooves muffled with old rags. They looked nervous but secretly proud of themselves at the same time. This morning they’d been weaving coloured threads, or pouring white-hot metal into moulds, never dreaming that tonight they’d be setting off on a dangerous adventure to save queen and country.
“Hurry if you’re coming, Miss!” the watchman called hoarsely to Khamsin, obviously terrified someone would shop him to the Romans.
The gates were closing behind us when someone shrieked “WAIT!” A girl squeezed through an almost non-existent gap.
“Amisi!” gasped Khamsin.
&nb
sp; It was too dark to see Amisi clearly, but I knew immediately what had happened. Violence doesn’t only leave bruises and broken bones, it leaves a really ugly vibe.
Seeing her grand plan going out the window, Khamsin was too freaked to notice. She dragged Amisi out of earshot. “This isn’t going to work,” she hissed. “They won’t take two perfume blenders from one town.”
Amisi sounded pitiful. “I know, I wouldn’t have come. I just thought, with your dad—”
“He’s dead,” Khamsin told her bleakly. “I’m supposed to be next.”
Amisi gave a gasp. “Oh Khamsin.”
Suddenly both girls were holding on to each other, weeping.
At last Amisi let her go, giving her a little push. “Hurry or they’ll leave you behind. I’ll pray to Isis to keep you safe.”
Khamsin hovered, clearly unsure about leaving Amisi outside the city walls. “But they won’t let you back in now till morning.”
“I don’t mind. It’s peaceful out here. Have a good life, Khamsin.” Amisi couldn’t quite manage to hide her tears.
Khamsin suddenly peered into her face. I heard her suck in her breath. “Who’s been hitting you?”
“My uncle.” Amisi whispered, instinctively covering her damaged eye. “I can’t go back there, Khamsin, I can’t!”
“No, because I won’t let you,” said Khamsin grimly. “What else can you do apart from blend perfumes?”
“I can charm snakes,” offered Amisi. She managed a wan smile. “It’s a family thing. My granny could do it.”
Khamsin frowned. “Snake charmers weren’t on the list.” I could feel her mind working overtime. “They need dancers. Can you dance?”
Amisi sounded ashamed. “Like a hippo my uncle says. Perfume and snakes - that’s all I know.”
Khamsin took a deep breath. “Perfume blending it is then.”
“But you said they wouldn’t take—?”
Khamsin just linked arms with Amisi as if everything was settled. “I’m assuming we won’t have to walk all the way to Alexandria to find out what our queen is up to?” she said with a tired grin. “I left before her messenger got to the travel arrangements part.”
Visibly stunned by Khamsin’s turn around, Amisi was trying not to cry.
“A mule caravan leaves tonight,” she gulped. “But we have to see someone called Mardian first. If he doesn’t choose us, we’ll have to go back.”
“He’ll choose us, don’t worry,” said Khamsin fiercely.
Maia made a rude noise. “How random is this girl? Weighing herself down with stray kittens and lame ducks. She’d better not be planning to share Nefertiti’s secret recipe with Amisi, that’s all I can say!”
I’d had to stop to blow my nose. I couldn’t believe how lovely Khamsin was being, on what surely must seem like the worst night of her life. “Why would that be so wrong?” I sniffled.
“Hello! This is Khamsin’s chance to make it big! Not too sensible to just hand it all over to the first human with a hard luck story!”
I opened my mouth and immediately shut it again.
Maia gave a deep sigh. “Oh bum! Is this one of those love ‘n light things that a rubbish angel like me couldn’t possibly understand?”
I gave a splutter of surprised laughter through my tears. “Kind of,” I admitted.
On second thoughts I decided Maia wasn’t doing so badly. Brice was back from the Hell dimensions ages before he could crack dark angel jokes.
We’d arrived back at Cleopatra’s barge.
Adjo was ushering people on to the boat in ones and twos. The rest waited their turn, talking quietly.
“She’s not like those other Ptolemies,” said a young silversmith. “Couldn’t be bothered to learn two words of our language most of them. Never set foot outside that big white palace, so I heard!”
“Imagine that sweet young girl growing up in that nest of vipers,” tisked someone. “Didn’t one of her brothers try to have her killed?”
“Her own sister plotted against her,” said the silversmith grimly. “But she was a match for all of them. I don’t care if her ancestors were from Macedonia or they came from the moon, Cleopatra has an Egyptian heart. If anyone can make Egypt great again, she can!”
At last it was Khamsin and Amisi’s turn to follow Adjo across the plank. He led them into the circle of torch-light where Mardian waited to meet them. Neither of them looked much like potential royal perfumers, I have to say.
Mardian wore an immense gold collar with his gorgeous robes, a sign of his v. important status at Cleopatra’s court, I found out later. He sat smiling and patient in his high-backed chair, also made of solid gold, even though I could tell he was secretly longing for his bed.
Beside him sat one of the most elegant young women I’d ever seen. Except that it was long and flowing, I don’t remember what she was wearing I just remember her jewels, a simple circle of pearls fastened around her brow, glimmering softly against her ebony skin.
Baraka introduced her as Lady Iras, the queen’s lady in waiting. Amisi looked ready to faint. If these godlike beings just worked for Cleopatra, what must the queen be like!!
When Mardian asked what two such young girls were doing on the wrong side of the city wall in the middle of the night, Khamsin flashed, “On the queen’s business same as you, sir. My friend and I risked our lives to bring her majesty something of great importance and - antiquity,” she pronounced carefully.
“Very well,” he sighed. “Show me your ancient relic.”
Khamsin backed out of reach. “I can’t do that sir.”
He looked astounded. “Dear child, do you think I would steal it?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said firmly. “This is all I - we have - to make our way in the world. It’s for the queen’s eyes only, sir.”
Mardian’s eyebrows shot up. “You do think I’d
steal it!”
“Child, you go too far,” Adjo said through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry sir, but it does happen, sir,” Khamsin
said stubbornly.
Lady Iras leaned forward. “This offering must be something very precious. May we at least know what it is?”
Khamsin nodded, relieved. “Oh yes please, madam.”
She explained as quickly as possible about the royal perfume recipe passed from mother to daughter for over a thousand years.
Mardian gave an involuntary glance into the darkness, where volunteers still waited to be interviewed. “An intriguing tale,” he said politely. “And I sympathise with your dilemma, but if you won’t show us, how do we know you’re telling the truth?”
“Ho-ho, a stand-off,” Maia giggled in my ear.
Amisi whispered, “Show them, Khamsin, just don’t let them touch it.”
“They could just grab it!” Khamsin hissed.
“They won’t. They work for her,” Amisi whispered back.
“All right,” Khamsin agreed unhappily. She untied her belt, and after a short struggle managed to extract the scrolls, while the VIPs politely looked away. Khamsin unrolled a few inches of papyrus and nervously held it up.
Mardian glanced, not too hopefully, at the scroll then I saw his expression change. “More light!” he bellowed.
A slave hurried over with a fresh torch.
Mardian abruptly switched from Egyptian to Greek. “I actually believe it’s genuine. This is definitely Nefertiti’s cartouche!” He gave a dubious glance at the girls. “Do you think they stole it?”
Khamsin suddenly interrupted, also in Greek, to their obvious surprise. “I speak six languages and I can understand every word you say.”
Mardian tried to interrupt but she rushed on.
“I am not some little girl making flower petal perfume for her dollies. All my ancestors were perfume blenders. Perfume making runs in my blood. I can identify six different varieties of rose absolute blindfolded. I know how to use essences to lift a mood or calm a racing mind. While my father lay ill, I haggled with
his traders for him, and I took over blending the incense for the temple. THREE different kinds, sir, for three different times of day -and nobody guessed I did it and not my father.”
“I’m not quite sure what you’re saying,” said Mardian, obviously taken aback.
“I am saying we did not steal it sir,” said Khamsin bravely. “It was my mother’s wish that I should inherit it.”
Mardian and Iras had a murmured conversation. Lady Iras turned to Khamsin. “How is your father now?’
“He died just tonight, madam.” Khamsin only just managed to keep her voice from shaking.
“And how old are you, my dears?’ asked Lady Iras.
“I am thirteen,” said Khamsin.
“Twelve and a half,” whispered Amisi, twisting her hands in her skirt.
“And is perfume blending in your blood too?” Lady Iras asked Amisi.
“Yes, madam.” Her voice was almost inaudible.
Mardian and Lady Iras briefly conferred again.
“If we take you, will you both do your utmost to recreate this perfume for the queen?” Mardian asked them in his dry tone.
They nodded eagerly.
“And no one will come after us accusing us of child-stealing?”
Khamsin’s face was stony. “My step-mother and her boyfriend will be happy to see me go.”
“And will your unusually silent friend’s family be happy to see her go?”
That little kitty had the best cosmic timing! She suddenly poked her head out of Khamsin’s basket with a friendly ‘Pirrip!’, like, “Hi, you starry VIPs!”
Lady Iras burst into delighted laughter.
Mardian beckoned to Baraka. “We will take a gamble on these young criminals,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not so sure about their accomplice! From the way she is scratching, I suspect she has fleas.”
Khamsin shook her head. “She has to come. The gods sent her to me.”
Mardian and Lady Iras seemed to think this was a perfectly normal thing to say. “When the gods send gifts, only a fool turns them away,” Lady Iras agreed.
