Chapter One

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CHAPTER ONE

Ancient Egypt...

The chill in the air was subtle but strong. It was obvious to Panya instantly that something terrible had happened. She tried to ignore the feeling. As far as she could tell, nothing was wrong. She continued washing the Pharaoh's loincloth and told herself she was being foolish.

     She could hear a sudden disturbance as Ammon, a younger slave, came running through the village. "Where are the workers? We must prepare Master Djer for his journey into the Duat!"

     Panya froze where she stood. She was very good at hiding. She had been hidden her entire life and kept as a slave instead of what she rightfully was. Her mother's death shortly after her birth had made this simple for the Pharaoh to accomplish. Panya's mother had been a slave. Djer told everyone the father was unknown, but in truth, Panya was his bastard daughter. It would never do for the Pharaoh to admit to having forced himself upon a young slave, so he kept Panya as a slave "for Horus himself."

     The Duat? Panya thought. Why would Djer be going on a journey to the Duat? That would mean he was dead. That was impossible. Djer was well. He was strong and blessed by the Gods. He could not have died. She needed to finish washing his loincloth or he would be angry with her. She shuddered as she thought about what it meant to have her father angry with her.

     "Come, Workers! The Pharaoh has died! We must prepare his body for the Afterlife!" Ammon insisted.

     Some seemed saddened by the news. Others rejoiced. Still others focused purely on the task of preparing the Pharaoh's body for his journey. This was a key element in his existence. If he was not prepared properly, he might get lost on the way to being reborn, and they could not allow this.

     Panya remained frozen in place. Was this true? Had Djer truly passed? Was her nightmare over? Would the new Pharaoh accept her as his slave or would she be sacrificed to serve the father who had only claimed her in private in the Afterlife?

     "Little Mouse," Acenith whispered. She was an older slave. She had practically raised Panya as her own child. Aceninth was the only person alive aside from Djer who knew who her father was. "My Little Mouse, you are not safe here. They will come for you. Please, flee. Leave this place and never return."

     "I cannot," Panya replied. "I have to finish washing the Pharaoh's loincloth." She returned to the task, determined not to fail in her assignment.

     Acenith grabbed her firmly by her shoulders. "Panya, listen to me! Your father has died. He put you at the top of his list of servants for the Afterlife. You must flee, child! They will kill you. I cannot bear to watch you perish. I vowed to your mother I would protect you as best I could. Go, Little Mouse. I beg you."

     "I serve the Pharaoh. If he sees fit for me to follow him to the Afterlife, I should be honored and proud. It means I have served him well," Panya replied automatically. This had been ingrained into her head since before she could remember. She was nothing, a slave. She belonged to Djer and she must always do what he wanted. On the rare occasion she had tried to deny him, the punishment had been severe.

     Acenith was growing desperate. "Panya, my Little Mouse, you must come out of this state. You do not understand my words. Djer has died. You will be murdered. Please go."

     Suddenly, reality sank in. Panya began shaking severely. "Where will I go?" She asked. "I know no one away from this place. I have nothing."

     "You will find help. The Gods will lead you to safety. Have faith, Little Mouse."

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