They reached Memphis at sundown, a whole ten days after leaving the banks of Saqqara. Seeing the familiar walls and streets of the capital felt surreal. As if they had been away for years.

"What should we do first?" Mereneith asked the hooded figure walking alongside.

They had purchased a cloak for Kha from a seamstress near the outskirts of the city, made of cheap linen and of a design that was commonly used by travelling merchants who plied the trade routes between the different towns. Until they were certain of the situation in the royal palace, it was deemed wiser for the prince not to reveal himself too readily, in case the vultures were lying in wait.

Which they were.

From the moment Mereneith and Kha stepped foot into the heart of the city, they sensed a tension hanging in the air, like a suffocating mist that made the once-vibrant market streets feel muted and devoid of its usual colour. Market vendors and pedestrians alike would constantly look around with fear and hesitation written all over their faces, and everyone moved with a purposeful haste—as if their only goal was to get to their destination, and off these streets, as quickly as they could.

"You should go back to the temple," Kha said, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings as they moved.

"And you?"

"I'll have to return to the palace and secure an audience with the king. And hopefully avoid getting killed before that."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy."

Since arriving, Mereneith had counted over ten guards she had spotted patrolling the streets, far more than usual. Two of them had even been questioning a fruit vendor with a portrait of Kha, and judging from their hostile manner she had a feeling that their intention wasn't to rescue their lost prince, but to see to it that the loose end at Saqqara was tied up.

"I know," Kha replied. He suddenly grabbed Mereneith by the wrist and tugged her into a tiny back alley. "One of the guards was looking our way. We need to move." He pushed her quickly along. "Don't worry about me. Go back to the temple first and see if anything is amiss. We still have some time before the crystals are due to exchange hands, so it's critical that you're there to gather any evidence you might find about this matter."

Mereneith's heart pounded in her chest as they manoeuvred through the maze of alleyways. She silently prayed that they wouldn't be caught by any of the guards along the way. When they finally emerged along a major street, she realised where it was that Kha had led her to.

Two towering statues of Ptah could be seen in the near distance, standing watchful over Memphis as they flanked the stone pillars that marked the entrance to the temple.

She took hold of Kha's hands.

"Come with me. You can hide in the temple until we're certain what the situation is in the palace. It's too dangerous for you to go back there now."

"I can't. That would put you in danger too. They don't know you exist, Mereneith, and we have to keep that to our advantage. You need to remain in the shadows, else who's going to save me when I need saving, right?"

He gave her a wink that was meant to be reassuring, but she could tell right away that it was merely a front. Kha was as terrified as she was.

"I won't do anything stupid," he continued. "I'll try to find my mother first. She'll know what to do."

Mereneith knew that nothing she said would convince Kha otherwise, so she reluctantly let him pat the back of her hands and then let go.

"I'll make contact in three days to let you know what the plan is. In the meantime, keep yourself safe, got it?" Kha turned to leave, but then he paused and turned back once more. "If you don't hear from me then... I know you want to see justice served for Rekhmir's death, but this might be beyond us. I'm sure he wouldn't want to see you in harm's way."

He gave her the hint of a forced smile, and then his cloaked silhouette disappeared back down the alleyway and out of sight.

Mereneith stood there for a long while staring at the empty space that the prince left behind, with nothing but one single frightening thought circling inside her mind.

That this could have been the last time she would ever see him again.

#

"Look who it is! If it isn't Rekhmir's little parasite. We thought you weren't ever coming back—and maybe you shouldn't have, because you'll just create more trouble for everyone now that Rekhmir's no longer around to clean up after you."

The snide comment came from Nephi, who unfortunately was the first person to notice her return to the temple.

Mereneith exhaled slowly, then turned around to face the senior priest. He looked exactly as she remembered—like a shrivelled prune that had been mummified at least fifty years.

"Nephi," she greeted, trying to remain cordial.

If there was one thing the old geezer was right about, it was that she no longer had the luxury of Rekhmir's protection and it was only too simple for any of the priests to find an excuse to throw her out. She couldn't leave, at least not until the entire debacle surrounding her guardian's death and the illegal Ak'heka crystal trade had reached a conclusion.

"Since you've been gone, perhaps you haven't heard," the old man puffed up his chest like a proud peacock, "that I'vebeen appointed as the new head crystal keeper."

Mereneith had left the capital before the high priest managed to announce the appointment of Rekhmir's replacement, so this was news to her. It wasn't the best news, but it was not surprising. Everyone knew that Nephi hankered after the position of chief crystal keeper because of its seeming exclusivity, but had always lost to Rekhmir in terms of skill at growing and maintaining crystals.

"My deepest congratulations," Mereneith bowed and said, though not meaning a single word.

"Now that I'm in charge, you'd better make sure that you toe the line and stop all that hocus-pocus I know you get up to in that little cellar of yours, because I will not tolerate any blasphemy taking place on my turf," Nephi ordered.

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

"One day, Mereneith, one day. With luck, you'll merely be sent packing instead of being drowned in the Nile or burnt on a pyre."

Mereneith wasn't about to take Nephi's threats seriously because she knew full well why he was saying all these. In the entire temple, her skill at working with the crystals outshone everyone, and had even surpassed her own mentor in recent years. That was the real reason why she hadn't been expelled, and why Nephi was resorting to barbed words to keep her in check.

"Hem-netjer," a timid voice called out, interrupting the conversation.

A slight figure emerged from one of the side passageways and hurried towards Nephi. Someone that Mereneith recognised, and hadn't been expecting to be seeing so soon.

Sef.

"What is it?" Nephi asked loudly, as if the volume of his voice would be enough to make up for his desiccated build.

"One batch of crystals don't seem to be doing so well. There are a few that appear to be disintegrating into smaller fragments," the junior priest replied. There was sweat clinging to his brows, and Mereneith noticed the way his bony fingers were trembling with fear.

Tending to the Ak'heka crystals were a sacred responsibility that was not taken lightly, so it was no wonder that the priest was anxious. But since when did Sef start working in the crystal vault?

Nephi's face scrounged up into an ugly glower. He raised his hand and smacked it down hard on the younger man's face.

"I give you one simple task and this is how you fare? Goodness knows why they assigned you to me!" he scolded.

So Nephi wasn't the one who brought Sef along to the vault, she thought. But then who?

Could the high priest truly have a hand in the crystal trade—and by extension, be the one responsible for Rekhmir's death? That thought had been sitting uneasily at the back of her mind ever since she witnessed the exchange between Sef and the mysterious hooded figure at Saqqara, but she had chosen to overlook it.

Evidence. I need evidence.

"You!" Nephi pointed at Mereneith. "Go with him to the crystal vault and solve the problem, else Ptah's wrath be upon us! If you don't manage to sort it out within the hour, then both of you can pack your things and scram."

Sef apologised profusely at least five more times, then gestured for Mereneith to follow him to the crystal vault. She obediently obliged, carefully observing the nervous mannerisms of the junior priest along the way. It was a clever choice to have roped someone like Sef into a plot so heinous, because if she didn't know better, she would never have suspected him to be part of this game.

But the quiet ones were often the most poisonous of snakes, waiting to rear their ugly heads.

#

There was no way for Kha to enter the palace grounds on his own if he wanted to go undetected by the guards, but there was one person that would be able to help.

Isis—the queen's chief lady-in-waiting.

Kha found a relatively clean spot in an alleyway that was situated near the palace's back entrance and huddled himself against the wall, drawing his knees tightly to his chest to keep out the cold. If he wanted to establish contact with Isis, he would have to wait till dawn, when the servants of the palace would leave to run their errands at the various marketplaces.

A stench of rotting vegetables and possibly animal turd accosted his senses moments after he had made himself comfortable, and he wrapped his cloak around his face to try and block it out. He could move, but he wasn't sure that there was anywhere else that was better. At least from where he was at he had a clear view of the palace gates, so he could be certain not to miss Isis when she emerged.

Kha closed his eyes, trying to get to sleep.

Never in his life had he imagined that he would be subject to such dismal living conditions. Perhaps he should have taken Mereneith up on her offer to stow him away in the Temple of Ptah after all.

No, he chided himself. Don't be selfish. You can't risk someone else's life just because you don't like the smell of rotting cabbage.

It would only be for a night. Once he managed to reach his mother, all his problems would solve themselves.

The last thing he remembered before dozing off was being curious about what Mereneith was doing over at the temple, and the next thing he knew was being kicked awake by someone's foot.

Kha opened his groggy eyes and found himself staring into someone else's. A little girl of barely five, whose eyes were as large as two whole dates and seemed to smile even when she wasn't speaking. Her cheeks were dirt-stained and her hair looked like a bird's nest that had been abandoned on top of her head.

"You should get up," she said, her high-pitched voice bubbling with a cheery innocence.

"What?"

Feeling a bit more awake, Kha looked around. It was only daybreak and there was but a sliver of light peeking down from the gaps in the clouds. Far too early to be waking. However, he could already detect the movement going on all around him.

There were several other street urchins camping in the alleyway, including whole families with children in tow, but all of them were busy packing their meagre belongings and shuffling elsewhere.

"Why's everyone in such a hurry?" he asked.

"The guards will start patrolling soon and they don't like it when we sleep out here. They used to be more lenient, but in the past week they've started checking each and every person on the street. Abu was captured by the guards just the other day, and he hasn't returned since," the little girl answered.

Kha didn't want to ask who Abu was and why he was captured, but the guilt started gnawing at him all the same. These people were already homeless and destitute, yet their lives had been made even harder because of him. If there were so many people suffering on the wealthy streets of Memphis, then what of the other towns and provinces across the kingdom? It was shameful to think that he had been oblivious to all this before. That he complained endlessly about having to learn about the livelihoods of the people from the comfortable classroom he had been given.

The little girl tilted her head, wearing a quizzical expression on her face. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" she asked. "Are you..." She tapped at Kha's head, trying to suggest subtly that there might not be a lot going on inside there.

Kha laughed. "Yes, I understood you perfectly well." He ruffled the girl's messy hair and picked himself off the ground. "Thank you, for letting me know."

The girl gave him a toothy grin in response, then ran off to join the rest of her family.

After waving goodbye to his little friend, Kha turned his attention back towards the palace gates. There were already a few servants streaming out, carrying baskets with which to carry their purchases back to their masters and mistresses. It wasn't long before he caught sight of Isis' familiar face appear on the street. He waited until she passed him by, then reached out and grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her to an obscure corner hidden behind a tall pile of furniture belonging to a street stall.

Isis opened her mouth to scream, but Kha moved quickly and clamped over it with his hand.

"Shh! It's me, Kha!" He lifted his hood a notch.

When he saw the girl's eyes widen with recognition, he slowly let go of her.

"Your Highness! It's really you!" Isis choked back a sob. "We thought you were dead. The king returned bearing news of a huge fire that broke out at the necropolis. They said they found your body!"

"I'm sure they'd recognise me after I'd been charred to a crisp," Kha snorted. "The fire was real, but I wasn't inside, thank the gods."

"What are you doing here? Why haven't you gone back to the palace?" Isis frowned, studying Kha from head to toe. "These clothes..."

"It's a long story. I need your help. I have to get into the palace to see Mother, but no one else can know that I'm back. Do you have a way to sneak me in without any of the guards finding out?"

Isis nodded. "I know of a way. But Your Highness, what exactly is going on? The palace has been in a complete disarray ever since the king's entourage returned. Prince Kanefer has been keeping the royal court running as best as he can, but everyone knows that something is amiss. The queen has not slept in days because—"

"Wait, what did you say? Kanefer is running the court? Why? Father has returned, so shouldn't that have put an end to Kanefer's duties as regent?" Kha interjected.

"Many things have happened while you've been away, Your Highness. The king took seriously ill after his return. The royal physicians can't figure out a reason for his sudden ailment, so they say it's because he's too devastated by your loss. He's still unconscious now, so Prince Kanefer and Prince Nefermaat are still assuming joint regentship."

"Father is unconscious!"

The last he had seen of the king was right before the assassination attempt at his quarters at the necropolis. His father had been nursing a slight cough, but was otherwise still fit. It seemed impossible that within the short span of a week, the king could have taken so ill as to slip out of consciousness. No sorrow could be that great for Sneferu—that much he understood of his father.

Creases formed across Kha's forehead as he contemplated the current situation.

If Kanefer is still in charge, then it would make sense why the guard patrol around the capital has suddenly intensified.

He hadn't told anyone, not even Mereneith, but his oldest brother was the prime suspect he had been harbouring inside his mind. The person who would benefit the most from his demise was Kanefer, especially with recent rumours about the king favouring him for the position of crown prince. With him gone, there would be no one else standing between Kanefer and the throne. Nefermaat's clan was too weak and Rahotep was too young.

He wouldn't go so far as to think of assassinating Father, would he?

A chill ran down Kha's spine.

Although they were half-siblings and had spent a significant amount of time growing up together, he didn't profess to know Kanefer half as well as he did Nefermaat. Kanefer had always been aloof and arrogant, and rarely deemed it worth his time to indulge in idle chatter with his other brothers. Instead, he spent most of this time training in the art of war and politics, taking his lessons much more seriously than the rest of them. They all knew that Kanefer saw himself as the heir to the throne of Upper and Lower Egypt—but what nobody was certain of was whether King Sneferu saw him the same way.

"Never mind," Kha said. "Take me to see Mother first. If something untoward has happened to Father, then she must have already have a plan."

#