“Perhaps. And if that’s so, there may be a pot of intrigue boiling and Nefron wants to add us to the mix.”
“If we don’t care to rely on her promises, then I hope you have something of a plan in mind.”
Mildred pinched the air between thumb and forefinger. “A germ of one. If you can, get the ankh to Ryan and J.B. and tell them what we’ve discussed. You seem to have the run of the compound.”
“So far.” Doc slid the amulet into a fold of his breechclout. “I have yet to test my boundaries.”
Mildred smiled at him fondly and patted his cheek. “Keep testing them. But don’t end up on the business end of one of those magic frog giggers.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nefron fetched Krysty at midmorning, presenting her with a bowl of fresh fruit, which she didn’t sample or even glance toward. The girl helped her to get dressed and apply her cosmetics.
Sitting at a dressing table and brushing out her hair, Nefron asked, “Did you sleep well?”
Krysty didn’t answer. Her hair undulated and rippled under the soft, steady pressure of the brush.
Leaning down, Nefron whispered, “I’ve managed to contact all of your friends.”
Krysty looked at her blankly. “What?”
“Your friends…Mildred, Doc, J.B., Jak—and Ryan.”
Krysty’s expression turned instantly into a mask of irritation. “Why whisper about them? Pharaoh is aware they are here.”
Nefron resumed brushing her hair. Then Krysty asked a question in an oddly listless tone. “You are Akhnaton’s daughter, aren’t you?”
The brush halted in midstroke, and Krysty heard a sharp intake of breath from the young woman.
“I am. Your friend Mildred knew that, so I assumed you did, as well.”
“You are the heir to the throne of Aten?”
“No,” Nefron answered quietly. “My father decreed that I was not worthy to continue the dynasty. He desires a son, a prince, not a princess.”
“How do you feel about that decision?” Krysty asked.
“My feelings on the subject are not open for discussion.” Nefron’s voice carried a sharp edge. She added, “I do as Pharaoh commands.”
There was silence until Nefron was finished brushing Krysty’s hair. Wordlessly Nefron held a hand mirror before her. Krysty felt a shock at the unfamiliar features staring back at her. Every inch of her face was as carefully and sharply painted as an enameled doll’s, her big eyes surrounded by fish-shaped black outlines.
“Well—” Krysty let out a pent-up breath “—thank you.”
“We must go now. Pharaoh awaits.”
Krysty and Nefron went out and down the corridors to Akhnaton’s study. He wasn’t there, so while Nefron busied herself with pouring goblets of the dandelion wine, Krysty scanned the spines of the heavily laden bookshelves. The collection of predark books in the study seemed to number in the thousands. Krysty drew a leather-bound volume from the shelf at random. The words Alexander the Great were embossed on the leather cover. Although she hadn’t had the benefit of an extensive education, she was far better read than most people eking out uncertain existences in Deathlands and she recognized the name.
She flipped through the pages, scanning the life story of one of the ancient world’s most famous conquerors. “From an early age, Alexander was not as other men,” she read. “His abilities and powers of persuasion confounded all of his teachers, Aristotle among them.”
Krysty found herself frowning and she read the passage again. Powers of persuasion.
“Nefron, what mischief have you been plotting now?”
Akhnaton stood in the doorway, dressed much the same way as he had been the day before. His browned fists planted on his hips, he favored Nefron with an unblinking scarlet stare. “Answer me.”
Nefron’s slender shoulders stiffened at the question. “What do you mean, Lord Pharaoh?”
“The day watch reported that you were seen leaving the city walls on more than one occasion yesterday. Since you should be preparing for the ceremony rather than taking the air, I find it rather curious.”
“There is nothing curious about it, Lord Pharaoh. I was indeed preparing for the ceremony. I dispatched my maid Kela to see if a new bed of flowers had bloomed.”
“Such fripperies are not within your realm of responsibility,” Akhnaton rumbled. “Speak the truth, girl.”