Her siblings turned on her.
"If I were you, Mistress Run-away," Bener said, "I wouldn't accuse others of faults that weigh down my own heart. Especially not Father."
Kysen made a rude noise. "You know her. She thinks if she sulks and berates Father with cruel remarks he'll relent. I am amazed at her ability to ignore a lifetime's experience to the contrary."
"Go quickly," Bener replied with a glare at her sister.
"I can send someone to you if there's news of the demon hunt."
Kysen jumped into the waiting chariot along with Abu. They drove to the canal nearest the house, where a boat carried them to the river. It was late in the day, only a couple of hours before dark. Fishing boats, pleasure craft, and freighters alike swarmed in the waters, and Kysen was forced to wait impatiently while the sailors of his own craft wove through the traffic upstream. Finally they sailed far enough from the docks to leave the crowds behind.
The waters were rising with the approaching flood, making the Nile wider. On this blue pool a craft about the size of a fishing boat floated toward him, its sail furled. In it sat Meren, his hand on a steering oar. Kysen's boat surged forward with the breeze and cut across the river to meet Meren's craft in the midstream. Meren guided his boat alongside the larger one, and Kysen joined him. Before anyone else could get in, Meren shoved the two vessels apart with his oar. Abu gripped the mast and stared after them, then settled down to follow at a distance.
Kysen sat facing his father, who resumed his placid, zigzag course downstream. Meren began as if Kysen had been in the boat all along.
"We haven't found Tcha again, have we?"
"No. He isn't at Ese's, and she has searched for him too."
"He might have seen something, perhaps even Eater of Souls. If he's still alive, he might be able to tell us where to find her."
"I should have kept hold of him when I met Othrys, but he disappeared while I was dealing with him and his supposed scribe. I think Tcha would have told us if he knew where the creature dwells, though, in order to protect himself."
"Perhaps." Meren turned the boat toward the east bank.
Kysen could no longer contain his impatience. "You should not have gone out alone. The demon could have attacked, and you would have had no aid."
"Look around, Ky. How could anyone approach without me seeing them?"
Kysen glanced over the flat expanse of the river. Several skiffs hugged the steep banks, but here there were no great papyrus swamps or thickets of reeds as there were farther north.
"That dead farmer," Meren said. "Min said that the only remarkable thing that happened to him was nearly getting run down by a chariot. That was why he was drinking at the tavern, to recover from the fright."
"I knew it!" Kysen exclaimed. "You've discovered something. I told Bener and Isis you wouldn't have vanished if you hadn't learned something important."
He waited, but Meren avoided his gaze and turned the boat toward the west bank. "The tavern woman entertained many customers the night she was killed. We're tracing them through the tavern keeper, but some he knew only by the goods they used to pay him." A distant look appeared on Meren's face. "The tavern keeper said Anat left before her work was done. He was furious, because her next customer was a man of good appearance who could have paid well. But when Anat refused him, he left much offended."
"And Tcha's partner in thievery had just tried to rob a nobleman's house," Kysen added.
"I need to question Tcha. I want to know which nobleman he and his partner visited that night."
Kysen stared at his father, who was calmly surveying the course downriver. "You've discovered something."
"I don't know," Meren said. "There seems to be nothing that would relate the dead ones, and yet… I keep thinking about them—a careless farmer, a negligent tavern woman who leaves her work early, a thief who dies after committing a robbery. And then there's Mugallu, who was killed after nearly provoking pharaoh into a war."
"And you," Kysen said quietly.
"And me." Meren shifted his weight and pulled the steering oar toward him. "Eater of Souls attacked me, but why?"
"Because you are searching for her."
"Would a demon care?"
"If you interfered in her work, yes."
Furrows appeared between Meren's brows. "You find nothing remarkable about this group?"
"Father, their hearts were stolen."
"Then perhaps I'm wrong," Meren said to himself.
Kysen would have pursued this discussion, but he felt the boat suddenly change direction to veer away from the riverbank. Meren nodded toward a spot where the bank sloped gradually and water lapped at the soil. The waters churned. The black mud suddenly rose up and grew jaws and teeth. Spine-backed crocodiles snapped at something beneath the water. One rolled over and over between the writhing bodies of its fellows. Kysen knew what that twisting wallow meant. Lacking the ability to tear with its jaws, the crocodile used this method to rend its victim's flesh into manageable chunks.
"About these three men of whom your pirate is so afraid," Meren said.
Kysen dragged his gaze from the crocodiles. If Meren wasn't worried, the victim must have been an animal.
"Dilalu the weapons merchant, Zulaya the Babylonian, and the Egyptian officer called Yamen." There hadn't yet been time to deal with the knowledge Othrys had given him.
"Yes," Meren said. "Dilalu and Yamen are in Memphis, but Zulaya is not. I have heard of Yamen, but not the other two. But none of these men had positions at court during Akhenaten's reign. One of them may know something about Nefertiti's death, but his role must have been indirect. Once Eater of Souls has been caught, or ceases to prey among the living, we will discuss methods by which we will explore the activities of these three."
"None of them is important," Kysen said. "Not to me. What is important is keeping you safe. Will you come home now?"
"Am I not sailing back to the city?"
"Don't pretend surprise, Father. And I'm not going to be distracted. You've had the look of a man who has seen the lakes of fire in the netherworld ever since Eater of Souls attacked you. You're not a coward, but I saw your face when Parenefer accused you of sin that provoked an attack by Eater of Souls. What is wrong?"
Meren shoved the steering oar against the current, and the boat turned slowly. Kysen waited, knowing he dared press no harder for an answer. There were some secrets Meren told no one. Some he guarded with his very life. Abu's boat was drawing nearer, and as it approached, Kysen gave up hope of a response.
"What has changed in Memphis that would draw the attention of the gods and Eater of Souls?" Meren asked in a harsh whisper.
"Nothing has changed."
Meren leaned forward to hiss at Kysen. "Something has changed, my son. Search your heart, your intelligent heart. What has changed is this—you and I seek the murderer of a queen."
"I don't understand."
Meren leaned back and worked the oar. "Nor do I. But I do understand that the queen's death was part of an intricate game of power, a game that isn't over. Someone is still playing, Ky, and I can't tell which action is a move in that game and which is not."
"Then what are we going to do?"
"At the moment," Meren said as he guided the boat toward Abu, "we're going to try to stay alive."
Kysen grinned. "I always try."
"An admirable goal," Meren said with a slight smile. His gaze drifted ahead to a trading vessel loaded with ivory tusks, ebony logs, and cages of birds with iridescent blue and orange feathers.
Kysen noted that look of vague reverie. "You're still troubled, and not about the nature of the demon's victims."
"I'm sure I've missed something, but I've gone over everything—the white feathers, that sandal print, the places where the murders were done. No sign or object leads to any particular person. Assuming that Eater of Souls is a person, that is."
Kysen rubbed his chin. "I think you're angry with yourself, Father."
"And I think you're impudent," Meren said mildly.
"You're angry because you didn't defeat Eater of Souls when you fought; you weren't even able to see her clearly."
Meren pounded on the steering oar. "Can you see across the garden by the light of a few distant torches?"
"No."
"I'll tell you what I saw," Meren snapped. "I saw a leathery snout filled with jagged teeth, a lion's mane, and those evil bronze claws." He glanced at the cuts on his arm before going on. "I saw a yellow eye with a slit of a pupil. That's what I saw. Otherwise, all I saw was a cursed ax blade so honed and polished it gleamed in what little light there was. You've been in battle, Ky. You know the things you remember. I can remember those teeth, those lifeless animal eyes, and those bladelike claws as if they were before me at this—"
Meren's hand went still on the oar. Kysen almost spoke, but instinct warned him not to interfere with whatever thought had stopped his father in midsentence. He watched a lock of Meren's hair stray over his forehead. Zar would be offended that his master had yet again removed his finery while out of the house. Meren continued to stare blankly past Kysen's left shoulder.
"Father?"
"Mmm."
"You have remembered something?"
"What?"
"You've remembered something."
"I—I'm not certain."
"Tell me, and I might be able to help."
Meren didn't answer at first, then he shook his head. "I must consider well before I speak. It's too dangerous."
"I consort with thieves, a murderous Greek pirate, and Ese. What more danger could I face?"
Meren's gaze focused on him at last, and Kysen saw a flicker of pain quickly disguised. "Oh, much more, Ky. Much, much more."
His absence had caused the evening meal to be late. Distracted by his discovery on the boat with Kysen, Meren had eaten without paying much attention to his food until he realized Bener had been putting more helpings of lotus roots, roast crane, and
shat
cakes before him. Now, although it was late, he still felt overstuffed. Bener said it was his fault for failing to eat enough to keep his belly from shriveling. He didn't argue because he was still chasing an idea, following it as one tracks an antelope down a crooked desert path between steep-sided cliffs, carefully and with the wariness of a lion.
Finally Bener had ordered him out of the hall so that the servants could clean. He was instructed to go with Kysen to the roof, where the night breeze would be the strongest. After surveying the darkened city, they had perched on the wall top that formed a balustrade around the roof. Meren took a goblet of wine from Kysen, but he was distracted from his deliberations only when he heard music. Looking across the roof, he saw three musicians seated on a mat. One played the double pipes, another a harp, and the third a flute that produced deep, mellow tones.
"Bener thinks you have forgotten how to be at ease," Kysen said.
Meren glanced at the musicians again. "Bener is perceptive, but I haven't the time to correct my bad habits at the moment. Ky, we've been looking for Eater of Souls in the wrong places."
"But she attacked most of her victims in the foreign district and near the docks."
"All of the dead ones inconvenienced people."
Kysen frowned at this sudden change of subject. "I thought we were discussing where to find the demon."
"We are." Meren set his goblet aside. "The farmer nearly caused a chariot to crash. The tavern woman deserted a customer. Tcha's partner robbed someone."
"I see."
"Ky, Eater of Souls, if she is a living person, has to be a noble."
"A noblewoman."
Meren shook his head. "You still don't follow my path. The tavern woman's customer, the chariot driver, the one who was robbed, I think they are the same man."
"A man who disguises himself and kills because he is inconvenienced?" Kysen asked with a stare.
"You sound doubtful."
"Father, you've plucked this notion from your imagination more than from knowledge." Kysen sighed when Meren folded his arms over his chest and said nothing. "What signs are there that Eater of Souls is a nobleman?"
"I told you."
"You told me things you've surmised."
"There's also the ax."
"An ax can be borne by any man, or woman."
"This wasn't an ax used by a carpenter or chariot maker," Meren replied. "Those axes are plain, and you've seen the ones used by woodchoppers. Their handles are long, and many have semicircular blades. This was a battle-ax, Ky."
"Which any common soldier possesses."
"Not this one." Meren stood and leaned against the roof wall. "I should have noticed before, but I've been paying attention to the more frightening features of Eater of Souls—the claws, the crocodile's head and jaws, the feather placed where the heart should be. What I saw was a battle-ax, but not one used by an ordinary soldier. It was like those given to great warriors by generals and kings."
Kysen said nothing for a moment, then whispered, "By the gods. Are you certain?"
"It had an elongated blade, like the ones we use in battle," Meren said. "But I think there's engraving on the flat of the blade, and the handle has sets of parallel grooves inset with gold. The wood isn't ash or sycamore. I think it must be stained cedar or dark brown ebony. The leather thongs that bind the blade and support the handle are gilded with red gold. When I stopped concentrating on Eater of Souls and began to search for other memories that were as clear but not so frightening, I finally recalled the ax."
"By the gods," Kysen repeated softly. He turned to meet his father's eyes. "Who have you inconvenienced of late?"
"Should you not ask whom I haven't inconvenienced?"
"This isn't a time for jests."
"Bener says I need merriment and leisure." Meren held up his hand. "Very well, don't frown like a priest-instructor faced with a dozen inattentive pupils. The list of those I've annoyed is long, even if I include only recent weeks. There's the Great Royal Wife."