"Are the gods pleased with our progress?" King Sneferu asked, watching with solemnity as the high priest rose to his feet and brought the communing ritual to a close.

Tjethy bowed, then nodded his head. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Blessings be upon the lands of Upper and Lower Egypt, for Ptah is in high spirits. Our great Lord of Eternity, Begetter of the First Beginning, is most invigorated by what he sees. Upon its completion, the pyramid will become a shining beacon that watches over the wealth of your kingdom for many years to come."

Standing a short distance behind his father, Kha let out a soft snort. He could see the look of sheer delight on the beaming face of chief architect Baahir and it took a great deal for him to resist smacking the arrogance out of the man's bloated cheeks.

Today, on the first day of the second month of Akhet, the king's entourage was gathered in front of the entrance passageway to the half-constructed pyramid for the unveiling of the first statue of Ptah that would grace its inner chambers. The imposing stone statue towered several heads above everyone and had been carved by the most skilled craftsmen of Memphis over the course of a full year, and had been escorted to Saqqara by the High Priest of Ptah himself. Kha watched as the labourers secured the statue with rope and lifted it steadily into the air, to be transported into the pyramid itself through the gaping opening in the middle. In the background, the setting sun cast a warm, magnificent glow upon the rising image of the creator god, and it was impossible for anyone not to believe that Sneferu's reign was truly blessed by the heavens.

"You have done well, Tjethy," Senferu said, clapping the high priest on the shoulder. "I am most reassured—"

The king suddenly broke into a fierce coughing fit, much to the distress of his chief steward and all the retainers in the vicinity. The crowd descended into a flurry of activity, with people rushing to offer water, honey and well-meaning advice to their monarch.

Much ado about nothing, Kha thought to himself. One might think that a little cough could kill a man, judging by how everyone was overreacting.

"I am most reassured to hear that Ptah's favour is upon us," Sneferu continued after his ailment had settled. "Come, you have done much over the past few days. Let us feast and celebrate."

The obsequious Baahir immediately stepped forward to lead the way, not forgetting to inject several lines of empty praise for the high priest as he walked. Tjethy merely smiled and nodded civilly in response.

Both of them were equally sickening, in Kha's opinion.

He wondered why his father chose to surround himself with such blatant hypocrites. Was it for their skills and talents? Or perhaps merely for their influential family backgrounds? Politics of the royal court was something that he was certain he would never wrap his head around. His brother Nefermaat, on the other hand, took to these games like a fish to water.

As he trailed reluctantly along, Kha searched through the sea of heads to locate Mereneith, who had been intentionally keeping a low profile since Tjethy arrived. That meant that she could not stay by his side and had resorted to hiding in the kitchens and storerooms doing menial tasks like peeling onions and sorting lentils.

He would certainly see her tonight though, because tonight was the very reason the girl had begged him to bring her here. For the first time since embarking on this dull royal tour, Kha felt a rush of excitement course through his veins.

Tonight, there would be adventure and mystery. He could already feel it tingling in his bones.

"Your Highness, I am sure you will be most satisfied with what we have prepared this evening," Baahir's greasy voice dragged him back to reality. The architect had somehow floated to his side, and was sticking his face so close that he could make out the flaring pores on the man's face. "It is a pity that you will be leaving Saqqara tomorrow, else it would have been my honour to be able to show you around the vicinity. Beyond the necropolis there is actually much beauty to behold, and the women in the nearby villages"—he nudged Kha at the arm and gave him a knowing wink—"are such nubile creatures. I've arranged for some of them to dance at tonight's feast. If you're interested..."

"That will not be necessary, Baahir. I am not here on a pleasure trip, in case you haven't noticed."

"Of course, Your Highness. I did not mean to suggest that at all! It's just that the nights can be lonely, if you know what I mean. Saqqara may be many things, but it is far from Memphis."

"In that case you'd best keep those 'nubile creatures' for yourself, am I right?"

Not waiting for Baahir to reply, Kha increased the length of his stride, eager to get the tiresome fellow off his back. Tonight he had a mission to accomplish, tomorrow they would leave for their next destination—but first, he had to survive this meal. He sighed, spying Baahir catching up with him out of the corner of his eye.

It seemed as if this feast would be more trying than he would have liked it to be.

#

The hour of Nut, where darkness descended upon the earth and the goddess of the night ascended upon her ladder and took her place in the heavens. In a place like Saqqara her presence was more keenly felt, for the maqet, the ladder of the goddess herself, was inscribed in many of the tombs buried under this land as a form of protection for the deceased.

Since sunset, Mereneith had been crouched behind a sandstone pillar of one of the necropolis' many shrines, carefully hidden from view as she waited for something—anything—to happen at the north face of the stepped pyramid of Djoser. Everyone else would either be at the feast or busy packing for the onward journey in the morning, so the surroundings were deathly quiet save for the occasional whispering from the night winds.

In the past, there would be dozens of priests and guards milling around these grounds, staying guard over the soul of their revered rulers, but things were different since the lands of Upper and Lower Egypt changed hands and the reign of Sneferu began. Now, the tombs of the fallen kings lay quiet.

"Psst."

A hand landed on her shoulder.

Mereneith opened her mouth to shriek, but the same hand quickly smothered the sound and forced it back down her throat.

"It's just me," Kha hissed, squatting down beside her. "Harder than I thought sneaking away from that dinner. I don't know why Baahir was sticking to me like a leech."

"I thought I told you not to come," Mereneith said. She pushed his hand away.

The prince didn't grant her a reply. Instead, he poked his head around the pillar and peered around. "Any action happening yet?" he asked. "Looks quiet."

"No, but a prince could possibly be murdered quite soon."

Kha flashed her a cheeky grin. "Best bury my body somewhere good. I prefer something built by Imhotep. In my humble opinion, none of my father's architects are anywhere near capable of rivalling his skill. That thing," he pointed at the stepped pyramid, "took Imhotep one try. And half of the impressiveness of this entire necropolis came out of his hands. My father's band of baboons can hardly compare."

Mereneith knew of Imhotep's work. The former chancellor of King Djoser was Egypt's most illustrious architect and the first to build structures made out of limestone bricks, unlocking the way to creating vast monuments like the pyramid that stood before them. If there was someone she looked up to and yearned to learn from, it was Imhotep. Unfortunately, the man had lived way past her time and was now lying somewhere under their very feet, surrounded by the majesty that he was singlehandedly responsible for.

She stared at the architectural marvel sitting before her, dreaming of the moment when she would be able to put her own name to something as grand.

The sound of footsteps grinding against the gravel interrupted her thoughts.

"Someone's coming," Kha said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

The prince was thoroughly engrossed in his little sleuthing act and Mereneith didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She opted to focus on the task at hand, waiting for the owner of the footsteps to appear within their field of view.

A lone figure stepped out from the adjoining courtyard and walked over to the base of the massive statue of King Djoser near the northern entrance of the pyramid. A man, judging from his bulky frame, whose face remained hidden beneath the shadows of the linen hood of the shawl that was wrapped around his broad shoulders.

Mereneith and Kha didn't have to wait long before a second person joined the first.

"It's Sef!" Mereneith exclaimed.

"Who?"

"One of the priests at the Great Temple."

Sef was not a prominent figure back at the temple of Ptah. In fact, one could even consider him an invisible man, who went about his duties with such quietude that it was easy to forget he even existed. He did not rank highly among the hierarchy of priests at the temple, relegated to simple tasks like sweeping the courtyards and polishing the ceremonial bronzeware. The only reason why Mereneith recognised him, and even knew his name, was because he had once kindly offered her a plum when he had seen her suffering under the scorching heat, serving yet another bout of punishment for her wayward ways.

"He must have been part of Tjethy's party then, to escort the statue of Ptah to Saqqara."

Mereneith nodded, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen next.

Could Sef be the one responsible for Rekhmir's death? His presence here certainly made him a suspect.

The priest wore a frantic look on his face, looking around furtively as he walked towards the other man. He was carrying a small leather drawstring pouch, whose contents he hurriedly emptied onto the palm of his hand.

Mereneith stifled a gasp.

"Ak'heka crystals," Kha whispered.

The ethereal glow from the crystals was unmistakeable. Even from this distance, they could see the halo of light illuminate the otherwise dim surroundings. Mereneith squinted her eyes. It looked as if Sef had only brought a handful of crystals—less than five, if she had to hazard a guess—but they were likely top grade, judging from the amount of light produced from that small quantity. As a sacred site, the necropolis of Saqqara was also a fertile concentration point for the Earth's energy, allowing the crystals to fulfil their fullest potential.

"Come on, let's get a bit closer," Kha said. He pulled Mereneith by the arm, dragging her along as they inched slowly towards the duo. Using the shrine's numerous pillars as cover, they quietly moved until they could just about make out the hushed conversation between the two men.

"Good," the cloaked man said. His voice was a low, gravelly rumble, as if his throat had been injured before. "When will we carry out the exchange?"

"Thirty days' time, on the next cycle of the new moon. We need more time to harvest the required amount of crystal."

"That was not part of the agreement. We were promised the full quantity within this month."

"I know, but there has been a slight complication. We had to rid of the head crystal keeper and his successor needs more time to prepare the necessary. The prince bids me convey a message to General Akiya—that although there has to be an unfortunate delay, he will honour his word. In exchange, His Highness hopes that the general will abide by the agreement as well."

"Our people are not as fickle as yours," the man scoffed. "If the prince keeps to his end of the bargain, then General Akiya will keep to his." He reached out and swiped the crystals out of the priest's hand, shoving them back into the pouch and slipping it beneath his cloak. "I will send word on the time and location for the delivery in a fortnight."

With that, the man turned and slipped off into the night, taking the small bag of Ak'heka crystals with him. The priest Sef surveyed the surroundings once more, then quickly left as well.

Mereneith and Kha remained silent for a long while after the men had taken their leave, each lost in their own thoughts. The prince was the first to speak.

"So you were right after all. The message that Rekhmir left behind did have something to do with his death," he said softly. The careless tone he usually bore was nowhere to be heard, replaced instead by a solemnity.

"They're selling the crystals. Rekhmir must have found out."

It was illegal to trade Ak'heka crystals and although small quantities leaked out from time to time, they were only of poor quality. Scraps that no one really cared about except people who wanted something to brag with. This was different. It only took one glance for Mereneith to realise that the small amount that Sef had handed over was among the best that the temple could produce. Crystals of this grade were placed under strict guard, intended only for supply to the royal palace. For Sef to be able to take those crystals, no matter how little, out of the temple's vaults, it would mean that there were far more important characters involved in this conspiracy.

"The prince he was speaking of..." Mereneith's voice trailed off, hesitant, as she turned to look at Kha.

Kha's expression hardened, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. "I don't know," he confessed. "Maybe... Maybe it's a misunderstanding."

"Rekhmir is dead. Are you telling me that he was murdered because of a misunderstanding?" Mereneith straightened herself up, glaring down at Kha with disappointment. "I told you that you shouldn't have come. You don't have to put yourself in a spot. Pretend you never saw or heard anything and go back to being a carefree princeling."

"It's not like that! Mereneith," Kha reached out and grabbed the girl by the wrist, "things are not that simple. What are you going to do next? Even if one of my brothers is behind this, you can't just walk into court and accuse a prince of a crime of that magnitude. We don't even know who that other man was! Like you said, Rekhmir is already dead. Do you want to be the next one?"

Mereneith pursed her lips together, her teeth grinding in frustration. "At least now I have a better idea of where to start looking. Since Sef is involved, he must be holding on to some sort of evidence. If I follow him, search his belongings, maybe I'll—"

A thunderous bang forced their conversation short. In the near distance, a blazing fieriness lit up the night, in the direction of the living quarters. Commotion ensued, loud, panicked voices shouting over one another, followed by the frantic shuffling of feet.

Kha and Mereneith immediately headed back.

As they got closer to the source of the ruckus, the rancid stench of smoke started to flood their nostrils and thick, blackened soot stung their eyes. There were guards rushing to and fro, carrying buckets of water to quell the raging flames.

"The fire's coming from my quarters! But how? Why would my quarters catch fire?" Kha exclaimed.

"How should I know? The good news is that you're not inside, so the gods must be watching over you."

They could see the king standing some distance away with a tearful Tiye in his arms, barking out orders to the men who were trying desperately to extinguish the flames. An anxious Baahir stood nearby, wringing his hands together fearfully, while High Priest Tjethy remained the picture of calm as he watched events unfold.

"They must think I'm still inside."

Kha changed his trajectory to head towards the king, but before he could take a step forward, Mereneith caught hold of his arm and yanked him back.

An arrow skimmed past the tip of his nose, lodging itself into a pillar instead.

"What in Ptah's name—"

"Assassin!" someone shouted.

Several more arrows followed the first, leaving neither Kha nor Mereneith any time to figure out what was happening. They turned and ran, ducking and evading the onslaught that kept coming their way.

"I'm not an assassin, I'm Prince Kha, I—"

"Just shut up and run," Mereneith yelled, dragging Kha away before he could get them killed. She zig-zagged as quickly as she could, using the numerous stone pillars as cover from the never-ending stream of arrows flying towards them—or more specifically, towards Kha.

The duo emerged out of the living quarters, taking a left towards the temple complex adjacent to the construction site of Sneferu's pyramid. Behind them, they could hear the pounding footsteps of their pursuers, still shouting for the apprehension of the supposed "assassins".

A piercing pain struck Mereneith at the left shoulder. She cried out in anguish, turning her head to see the shaft of an arrow sticking out from her back.

"Mereneith!"

"Keep going, don't stop," she said, biting back the pain.

If they stopped, she had little doubt that they would be dead. Hanging on to life with an arrow stabbed into her was still the better option by far.

They dashed in through the entrance of the temple complex, finding themselves in a large, enclosed space lined with towering statues of Osiris.

"This way."

Kha took hold of Mereneith's hand, pulling her towards one of the small passageways that branched out from the left side of the hall. The corridor was dark and musty, and they soon found themselves descending down a flight of narrow stone steps. The dry air took on a stale, decaying odour.

Behind them, the chasing footsteps seemed to get further and further away, until they could no longer hear them altogether. Only when they were certain that they had shaken the tails off their backs did the duo finally stop. Beads of sweat drenched their foreheads and clothes, and a growing red patch had formed against the white of Mereneith's dress, from the arrow wound that she had been inflicted with.

Mereneith slumped sideways against a wall, collapsing to the ground. She could barely feel her legs—but then again the pain at her left shoulder made it impossible for her to feel anything.

"Mereneith!"

Kha was calling out to her, yet his voice sounded like it was coming from a faraway place. She struggled to hold up her hand, to reach out her fingers towards his face, but her entire arm was weighed down by lead. His features were blurring, one eye merging with the other, hazy and clouded.

And then her eyelids crashed.