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Rae

Rae floated through the next few hours in a blur of activity. After leaving the brewery, Omari, Menk, and Baki ushered her to the shepherd’s farm, careful to stick to the narrow darkened streets until they got out of the city. She argued at first, telling them that her presence put Baki’s family at risk, but the shepherd wouldn’t hear of it.

“I owe you a debt, Raetawy. The least you can do is allow me to repay it.”

After that, she let them pull her along without further protest. Everything seemed to move too slowly, as if she were underwater. Even the voices of her companions were oddly muted to her ears.

When they reached the farm, Baki steered her into the stable, promising to remain on watch outside, while Omari and Menk went back into town on reconnaissance.

“There will be consequences for what happened tonight,” Menk told her before they left. “Better for us to know what they are before they arrive on our doorstep.”

And then, she was alone with her thoughts.

Or at least, she thought she was alone.

An oil lamp burned on a table just inside the stable, sending flickering shadows against the walls. In the near dark, she saw a dozen sheep gathered inside. They watched her with distrust but made no move toward or away from her as she settled herself against a bale of straw. The arrow wound was painful, but she was too tired to stand any longer.

The stable was stuffy and pungent with the musky, earthy smell of the animals, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Soon, the sheep seemed to lose interest in her and retreated to the corners to sleep.

It was only by watching the progress of the moon that Rae had any concept of time passing. Night had only begun to fall when she’d first set out for town, and now the moon had traveled halfway across the sky.

She tried not to think of her father.

She thought of her father.

Eventually, she must have nodded off. One moment, she was in the stable, and the next she was back in the brewery.

The dagger in her hand—

The blade slicing through skin and muscle and viscera—

The warm gush running over her fingers—

The surprise in the brewer’s eyes—

It was so vivid, so real, that when she woke, she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there.

Disoriented, her breathing heavy, she sat up and tried to regain her bearings. The flame on the oil lamp was guttering wildly, casting bizarre shadows across the walls. One appeared to be the silhouette of what looked like a ram with four heads, each one pointed in a different direction. But as she blinked the last dregs of dreaming from her eyes, she saw it was simply the shadows of four sheep standing close together, keeping watch for predators.

Stumbling to her feet, Rae walked to the trough and splashed cold water on her face, trying to get her thoughts under control. She hadn’t killed the brewer merely to avenge the men who’d died in the attack, but to protect herself and the ones she loved. But had she actually done that? Or had she made the situation worse?

She was drying herself on her robes when she heard footsteps approaching. Quickly, she retreated to the shadows, pressing her back to the wall beside the stable door. A moment later, the door opened slowly. She held her breath.

“Rae?” Omari whispered.

She exhaled and moved back into the light. “I’m here.”

Omari came in and closed the door behind him. He moved gingerly—she could tell his injured shoulder had been bandaged beneath his tunic. His expression was grave.

“I relieved Baki so he can attend to his family,” Omari said, his eyes downcast.

Rae’s body went stiff. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”

Omari frowned.

“What is it, Omari? Tell me.”

Still, Omari said nothing.

A surge of anger welled inside her. “Tell me, damn you!” Rae cried, shoving him back, “What happened? What did they do?”

It was then that she smelled the smoke wafting in through the window.

“The nomarch’s men burned your farm,” Omari said hoarsely. “The land, the house… everything. Most of the zebu got away when the fence burned, and some of the men are trying to gather them, but—”

Rae cried out and made for the door, but Omari grabbed her by the waist and held her back.

“There’s nothing to be done!” he grunted. “If you go out there now, the Medjay will catch you—and what good would that do?”

“No!” she cried and fought against his grip. “Let me go!”

But Omari held firm.

With a wail, she stopped struggling. She focused on the stable window, where a dim red glow flickered in the distance. She could hear men shouting, and the panicked cries of cattle.

“Omari,” Rae whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Ay,” he replied. “The brewer’s daughter recognized you, and she must have told the nomarch’s men what happened. They came right away with torches. I got into the house before they did, though, and I managed to salvage these.” From his pack, he produced her robes, with the winged golden armor and stone scepter they’d stolen during the raid wrapped inside. The golden ring the Jackal had given her was in there too, and she put it on her finger to ensure it wouldn’t get lost.

“Omari,” she said again, holding the armor and scepter in her hands.

“They’re looking for you,” he continued. “But it won’t be long before they start looking for me too. Everyone knows we’re friends. I already evacuated my family—they’re going to stay with some relatives in Per-Abu until the danger passes. If it passes…”

He began to pace, disturbing the sheep. “What are we going to do, Rae? What are we—”

“Omari!”

The harshness of her voice quieted him. He stilled.

“Where…?” she began, hardly able to get out the words. “Where is my father?”

Omari sighed, and it was like someone stole the sun from the sky. Rae’s entire world went black.

A sob rose from her throat as she recalled the last time she saw her father, his kind, sun-weathered face aglow in the dying sunlight.

What was it that he’d said to her?

“Please, come inside. It’s getting dark.”

If only she’d listened.

She’d promised to keep him safe. She’d promised nothing bad would happen to him. And now, and now—

She couldn’t breathe. She swayed and was about to fall to her knees when Omari caught her and said, “He’s alive, Rae. He’s alive. But… they’ve taken him.”

Rae gripped Omari’s arms, holding on to him and his words for support.

“Taken him where?”

Omari licked his lips. “The nomarch’s men handed him over to the Medjay. Their reinforcements arrived from Thonis only hours ago, and they’re planning to return to the capital with Ankhu and some other Low Khetaran prisoners. We should count ourselves lucky to not be among them.”

Rae released her hold on him and leaned heavily against the wall. This news—it was better, and yet worse.

“Why would they take them to Thonis?” she asked.

Omari shrugged. “Not sure. But we know Prince Meryamun plans to crack down on insurgent factions in the south, so he’ll probably try to pump the captives for information… or make a public example of them.”

Rae dropped her head into her hands. Execution.

Her father was still alive, but he probably wouldn’t be for long.

“We can avenge him, Rae,” Omari went on. “We can avenge them all. We have the weapons we took from the Medjay. If we arm ourselves and fight back, we can take the city by storm.”

“And lose how many more in the process?” Rae asked. “That’s exactly what the Medjay are expecting. That’s exactly what they want. What makes you think they won’t destroy Sakesh, just as they’ve done with my farm?” She shook her head. “We can’t endanger everyone in the city with this crusade, not until they’ve agreed to be part of it.”

“How could they not agree?” Omari fumed, gesturing toward the fire in the distance. “How could they not see that this fight concerns us all?”

“Not every mind works as yours does. We cannot speak for every man, woman, and child. If we do, then are we any different from the High Khetarans?”

Omari huffed in frustration. “Then what do you propose, Ay? We do nothing?”

“No!” Rae shot back, her own temper rising. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Aren’t you the one always telling me to think before I act? I let my anger overtake me tonight, and look what happened! Do you really want to repeat that on a grand scale all over the city? I can’t be responsible for the deaths of any more innocent people.”

As soon as she spoke the words, she realized how true they were. The brewer’s accusation had struck its target and buried itself in her mind.

Their deaths are on your hands, Raetawy, not mine.

“That dog deserved to die,” Omari growled. “I would have killed him myself if you hadn’t.”

Rae’s brow furrowed. It was true, the brewer gave her little choice but to silence him, and his wickedness had brought vengeance to his doorstep. But there was more than that in Omari’s tone. She’d never heard him speak with such venom.

“Everything of value has a cost, Rae,” he went on. “And freedom demands the highest price of all. We cannot be afraid to pay it.”

They were almost the same words Asim had said to her back at the weavers’ workshop. But when Asim had said it, she’d thought he meant sacrificing his own life for the cause—not the lives of others. What Omari seemed to be suggesting sent a shiver down her spine. She was about to reply when there was a noise outside the stable.

Omari put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the door. Someone was coming.

The sheep stirred, bleating.

Rae clamped her lips shut and stood, her hand going to the dagger in her belt.

Then came a low voice.

“The falcon sails across the sky.”

Both Rae and Omari nearly collapsed with relief. She opened the door a crack and whispered, “We shall meet him on the…”

The last word stuck in her throat when she saw who stood outside, silhouetted by the fiery glow.

“Horizon?” she finished.

“Hello in peace, Raetawy,” said Tamerit. The weaver was wrapped in a robe not unlike the one Rae wore, a hood covering her dark curls. Menk stood next to her, wearing something between a smile and a grimace.

“Room in there for more?” he asked gruffly.

Rae nodded and made way for them both to enter the stable. Except they weren’t alone. Behind them came nearly a dozen others, among them Mamet Mut and several other weavers, a few of the surviving Horizon members, and an old soldier who Rae often saw begging in the street. There were some young men that Rae recognized from the street fights too, including—most surprisingly—Buto.

The brawler nodded at Rae as he entered, a penitent expression on his face. She’d never noticed how crooked his nose was. Others must have broken it before she’d gotten a chance to.

“Hi, Rae,” he said.

“Buto,” Rae replied, utterly confused. “What’s all this about, Menk? I thought it was too dangerous to congregate.”

“It’s all right,” Menk assured her. “The Medjay and the nomarch’s men are all at the riverbank, readying for their journey back north. I’ve also left a lookout. He’ll send up the alarm if anyone approaches.”

Rae exchanged glances with Omari, but he appeared as bewildered as she was by the people assembling around them amid the sheep.

“The thing is, Rae,” Menk went on, “As I was gathering information, I seemed to gather people too. People who wanted to see you after they heard what happened tonight. They wouldn’t take no for an answer. More wanted to join me, but I managed to convince them to stay home so we wouldn’t attract too much attention. Most of these folks lost kin in the ambush at the Garden of the Dead.”

The assembled murmured their agreement.

“My father,” said a man.

“My son,” said another.

“My uncle,” said Buto. “When I found out that he’d had been killed by the Medjay, I vowed to avenge him. I went to the brewer for advice—after all, he had his hands in everything, knew everyone. I had no idea he was a traitor! If you hadn’t figured it out and stopped him, Rae… well, he probably would have turned me in too.” Buto cleared his throat. “So I suppose I owe you a debt.”

“You owe me more than one,” Rae grumbled.

“Fine,” Buto said, the usual playful smirk back on his face. “Two.”

“Menk said you spoke up for the weavers too,” Tam broke in, moving to Rae’s side. “That’s why he came to see us. We’ve tried to tell the men we want to help many times, but no one’s ever been able to get through to them. Except you.”

Tam’s hand found hers and squeezed it.

“I–I still don’t understand,” Rae stammered. “Why have you all come?”

“It’s never been clearer that the Horizon must endure,” Menk replied. “What had once been a group with ideas has become a group of action, and Sakesh needs action now more than ever.” He paused. “It’s what Asim would have wanted.”

The lump returned to Rae’s throat at his name.

I would be proud to have a daughter like you , he’d said.

But now he was gone, and her own father too. Would Asim still be proud, if he knew what she’d done? Would Ankhu?

Menk said, “I brought these people because I wanted you to see that despite the blow to our number, there are still many who wish to dedicate their lives to the cause.”

“Wanted me to see?” Rae echoed. Her gaze flicked to Omari. An inscrutable expression passed over his face, one she couldn’t identify.

“Yes, you,” Menk insisted. “Now that Asim is gone, we need a new leader. He believed in you, Rae. You were the catalyst that helped him start this fight. And with any luck, you’ll be the one to end it.” He tipped his chin to the stone weapon in her hand. “Besides, you carry the Sekhem scepter.”

Rae hefted the weapon. “I stole it from the Medjay. It’s not really mine.”

“It wasn’t really theirs either,” Menk told her. “The lion goddess works in mysterious ways. She made sure it got into the right hands.”

Rae felt a prickle at the back of her neck as she touched the Sekhmet amulet hanging from her neck, the one she’d chosen from the Jackal’s bag of treasures. Maybe it wasn’t so random after all .

“So?” Menk asked. “What do you say?”

The crowd turned to her, expectant.

Rae felt her stomach twist. “But Menk,” she whispered, pulling him close and turning her back to the others. “I’m no soldier. I know how to cultivate wheat, tend cattle, and wrestle for some extra income. How could I possibly lead a rebellion?”

Menk shook his head. “Raetawy, what we need is someone who can help us grow in number, shepherd us to greener pastures, and have courage in the face of adversity. Think about it, about what you just said. You can do all those things. Whatever you don’t know, you will learn on the way.” He put a thick hand on her shoulder. “No one is ever ready to lead, Rae. They only need to be willing. Are you willing?”

Rae scoffed. This is madness , she thought. She should refuse Menk’s offer and tell him to lead, or someone else—someone older and more experienced. After all, the rebellion’s survival didn’t depend on her leadership.

She scanned the shadowy faces around her, all of them waiting to hear what she would say.

She had a sudden jarring sense that everything she’d done, every choice she’d made, had led her to that moment. The choice to defend Baki against the nomarch. The choice to ask Omari to take her to that first Horizon meeting. The choice to speak up. The choice to fight back. If she had done any one of those things differently, nothing would have turned out the same way.

She looked down at the four sides of the golden ring—the snake, the feather, the eye, and the scarab—and remembered once more what the Jackal had said about the inexorable pull of fate, how it carried you to your destiny. Rae wondered if it was true. Was her fate drawn in the stars long before she was even born? Or did she truly have agency over her own path?

Perhaps it was a bit of both.

Maybe the gods offer us opportunities to choose our fate , she thought, but it’s ultimately up to us whether or not we take them.

The river’s current tugged at her, willing her to speak.

“Well?” Menk asked, nudging her with his elbow.

Rae closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the current take her.

Turning to the gathered flock, she said, “If you’ll have me, I promise to do my best.”

Menk clapped her on the back and many others followed suit. Some of the men still looked uncertain, but Rae had eyes for only one person. Tam stood in the center of the throng, her hands clasped at her breast, her eyes glittering with pride.

“So we fight!” Omari said. “We bring the battle to the Medjay and show them we will not submit!”

The men began to murmur their agreement when Rae spoke up.

“No!”

The room fell silent once again, all eyes turned to her.

“The raid on the Medjay was successful because Asim had a clever plan. His plan minimized violence and focused on a specific objective. If we’re going to take back Sakesh, we must do the same—but on a much larger scale. We cannot do it with a dozen fighters. The Horizon must encompass all that the light touches.”

Rae glanced uncertainly around the stable, but no one protested.

She went on. “First, we must spread the word far and wide. The weavers will help expand our outreach to every corner of the city, but we must do it quietly. We cannot afford to be betrayed again.”

She turned to Menk. “Work with them to gather our forces and begin to strategize next steps. If blood must be shed, so be it—but let’s try not to spill any more than necessary.”

Menk nodded, but his brow furrowed. “It’s a good plan, Rae, but why me? Shouldn’t you be the one leading the charge?”

Rae shook her head. “Omari and I, and a few others—if they’re willing, of course—will be busy with another mission.”

Omari had been standing with his arms crossed, looking aggrieved, but he perked up at this. “What mission?”

Rae gripped the scepter in her hand, the weight of it keeping her rooted to the earth. Her eyes drifted to the window, to the smoldering ruin of her old life, her old self.

“If we want to win this,” she said, “we can’t limit our fight to Sakesh alone. Every city and village is affected by High Khetaran rule, not just us. If the king wants to send a message by abducting and executing our people—well, we need to send a message too.” She paused, thrilled and terrified by what she was going to say next.

“We must take our fight to the pharaoh himself.”

The stable went still. Even the sheep seemed to recognize something momentous was happening, and all turned their unsettling eyes upon her.

“Menk, Tam—we’ll need all the information we can get, and quickly. Building a resistance in Sakesh will help us win the battle, but we need to strike at the heart of the kingdom if we want to win the war.” She gripped the scepter tightly in her hand. “As soon as we can make ourselves ready, we sail for Thonis.”

A moment passed, and Rae was afraid she’d gone too far. Asked too much.

Then, a voice spoke up. It was Buto.

“I’m with you.”

“And me,” Tam said.

“And me,” said the old soldier.

Others spoke until every voice in the room had joined the chorus, was heeding the call. And with each offering, Rae’s heart lifted a little more.

A meaty hand clamped onto her shoulder. Omari’s. “To Thonis,” he said to her with a nod.

Rae nodded back, and the others began speaking together at once, all the recent tragedies transformed, alchemically, into action. Rae closed her eyes and sent a message out into the midnight heavens, hoping that somehow, it would be delivered to its recipient.

Father, I’m coming.