“We need time to make our plans for your escape. You can buy us that time.”
Taking a deep, calming breath, Krysty said, “This could get out of control. I know what’s happening. I’m already responding to the bastard’s psychic cues.”
“You must be strong, now that you are aware of them.”
“All right, Nefron. I just want to get this over with. I want Pharaoh to let us leave.”
Nefron nodded. “As do we all. Now, he is ready for you.”
Krysty balled her fists, her nails biting into her palms. “That’s what I was afraid you were going to say.”
NEFRON LED KRYSTY into a very broad corridor. High up in the vaulted ceiling, skylights like the ones in the bedchamber let in colored sunlight. Two balus-traded galleries ran along each side of the corridor, one above the other.
They turned into an open door, and Nefron announced simply, “Pharaoh Akhnaton.”
Krysty hadn’t been sure of what to expect, but the chamber into which she was escorted was almost Spartan in its furnishings. It certainly wasn’t a throne room or royal living quarters. It was more like a study or a library. Shelves laden with books and bound volumes of magazines covered two walls. A worktable held the tools and materials of a sculptor—clay, stone, chisels and delicate picks.
A huge predark map of the United States hung on the far wall. Krysty noted that large sections of it had been altered by red ink, no doubt to make it conform to the geophysical changes since the nuke-caust.
The man seated at an ornately carved desk was a stranger, yet when he stood, she knew with a sick, sinking sensation in her stomach that she had seen him before. He looked to be in his midthirties, his black hair was short cropped and his shoulders almost impossibly broad. He wore only a brown, gilt-edged vest and a white linen kilt, which showed off his deeply tanned, muscled arms and legs. However, it was the deep red hue of his big eyes that captured Krysty’s attention.
He stared at her silently for a long moment, then stepped toward her. It wasn’t until he was next to her that she realized just how tall he was. At one inch shy of six feet, she was hardly petite, but he truly towered over her, not just in height but in breadth.
In a low voice, he said, “I must have the name to which you presently answer.”
Disregarding the odd phrase he had used, she said, “Krysty.”
He bowed his head, as if ashamed. “Krysty, please forgive the manner in which we meet again, but the circumstances dictated it to be the only way.”
His voice seemed to echo and vibrate around her skull. Instead of feeling fear or anger, she felt flustered.
“How should I address you?” she asked, tilting her head back, trying to meet his gaze.
A smile creased his lips. “You may call me Akhnaton. There’s no need for the two of us to stand on formalities. I feel I know you intimately.”
She felt her cheeks burning with a blush of embarrassment or a flush of anger. She wasn’t sure which. Rather than saying anything, she walked around him to a chair facing the desk and sat in it. Akhnaton chuckled and returned to his seat behind the desk.
“What did you mean about meeting me again?” she demanded, deliberately trying to sound abrupt.
Akhnaton drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Are you telling me you don’t remember? Ah, well, that’s unimportant. All that matters is you are here now, when the monument nears completion. Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be very nice,” Krysty said, more to have something to say than to quench her thirst.
Akhnaton closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. When he opened them, Nefiron came through the door. “You wish something, Pharaoh?”
“Dandelion wine. The batch from three summers ago.”
Nefron ducked her head. “By your command.” Though her tone was subservient, anger glinted in the dark depths of her eyes.
The woman quickly went to a cabinet across the room and removed a corked earthenware bottle and two goblets. She brought them to Akhnaton’s desk, allowing the Pharaoh to remove the cork with a negligent twist of thumb and forefinger. Nefron filled the goblets, handed one to Krysty, then lingered by her chair.