With him gone, Soromeh saw another group approaching. “That’s my sister,” she warned. “You all better get on board. Fight over the cots or something.”
The Celestials were happy to oblige.
She replaced her hair and travel clothes and turned to Iram. “What do I look like?”
“Like a sunrise over the Nile,” he smiled.
She blushed, blurted something, and lost all countenance right before her sister’s arrival.
“Kamilah!” she shouted, her voice too high. “You’re right on time. Oh, you brought the baby! Both of them!”
Kamilah was followed by a group of servants, two of which held a child in their arms. Soromeh approached the wet nurse that was holding Moosah and blinked in surprise.
The woman wore Egyptian makeup and a braided wig, but her kind face was Hebrew, and familiar.
“Yocheved! Oh, I’m glad you’re here, I told Kamilah to send for you. That little guy needs his—”
Kamilah cleared her throat, subtly.
“— wet nurse,” completed Soromeh. “Yes. Because he is the son of a princess. So he can live at the palace. Have a great life. Yes.”
Yocheved smiled. “I’m just glad he’s alive. I was so relieved to learn that you survived the storm, your highness. We prayed all day and all night for you both, with Amram and the children. You saved him.”
“I think he saved me too,” she said, caressing his head. “Take good care of him.”
Yocheved kissed her hand and stepped back. Kamilah, who had been standing in the shade, took her place.
“Sorry for making you wait!” blurted Soromeh.
“I won’t begrudge a moment more with you, my sister,” said Kamilah with affection. “I regret that there weren’t enough of them.”
“I’ll write! I know how, now! Well, more or less. My tutor is on board. He insists on continuing my education.”
“Tell me all about your travels. In exchange, I will tell you about your nephews. I regret losing you, but we both know this life could never make you happy.”
“I tried. I did my best,” she said, feeling defensive.
“I know. Our parents would have been proud.”
Kamilah kissed her brow and went back to the shade, followed by her servants.
Soromeh watched the wet nurses leave with the next generation of rulers, one Egyptian and the other Hebrew. She then remembered Naími’s predictions and shivered. One could cover Egypt in glory or cover it in blood. The other was tasked with leading his people out of the kingdom. It all seemed too big, for children so small.
She saw Sethy approach, alone. He was wearing a simple tunic and seemed younger, almost vulnerable, without his crown.
“Brother,” she greeted.
“Soromeh. I see you’re ready to leave.”
“We’re only waiting for Damon. He’s taking his time.”
Sethy had to swallow his emotions. “I came to wish you gentle winds. And to say goodbye.”
Soromeh felt her heart squeeze. She nodded, awkward.
“Goodbye to you too. I wish you a prosperous reign.”
He stepped forward but stopped when he noticed that Iram, further back, had automatically placed a hand on his sword.
“Can I?” asked Sethy, opening his arms.
Soromeh let herself be held, trying to overcome the fear that she couldn’t help but feel.
“I’m going to miss you, little sister,” he whispered. “The palace hallways will be sad without the life you brought to them.”
“You have two sons now,” she said with a slight smile. “It’s their turn to make the palace guards go insane.”
She was the first to step back. Damon had joined them, his face worried. He was wearing his palace clothes.
“You’re staying,” she said.
“You don’t need me anymore. But the kingdom does.”
“You’re always doing the responsible thing,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not too late to change your mind. The ship is still there.”
Damon glanced sideways at the king and shook his head. “I’m staying.”
“Of course, you are. Come, hold me. Let’s weep over our failed marriage, my Damon.”
He cradled her with his good arm. She hid her face in his tunic, shedding a tear.
“Will you cry over me?” she joked.
“With the agony of a broken heart,” he said, kissing her hair. “I’ll miss you so much, little scorpion.”
She sobbed.
Hermes called from the ship. They were ready to set sail.
She looked at them through her tears and found the strength to turn away. She grabbed Iram’s hand and climbed on board, joining her crew of disparate immortals.
“Are you ready, little princess?” asked Hermes from the helm.
“I’m ready. Get me out of here.”
She stood at the bow, taking the time to appreciate the feel of Iram’s hand in hers in broad daylight, the wind in her hair, and the open river in front of her.
Harouk and Anubis unfurled the sails, and Dewei unmoored the ship. Slowly, the Ibis started moving. Soromeh looked back at the palace and saw the silhouettes of her brother and Damon, standing next to each other on the dock. Further back was Kamilah, her sons, and her servants.
The story of Egypt would go on without her. She was both sad and relieved.
Then she tired of looking at the palace and turned her gaze forward.
About the author
Talhí Briones is a writer, on top of being an artist, graphic designer, and generally someone who makes creative projects happen. She wrote Hieroglyphs in French, got it professionally published, designed the cover, and promoted it. Then she tackled the English translation and did it all over again.
This is her first novel but not her first book. She illustrated and coauthored the comic Emmanuel Just Wants to Die (Original English version self-published in 2018; French version published by Glénat Québec in 2020); and is the artist behind the children international cookbook Le Monde dans ma Boîte à Lunch (Centre Multi-Ressources de Lachine, 2018).
Her future projects include writing a next installment in the Hieroglyphs universe and drawing a series of books for girls who love adventure.
The Celestial Conspiracies Page 36
