Nefertiti by Michelle Moran Page B

to crawl in the dirt? What if I’m caught?”
    “Guards aren’t posted beneath Second Wives’ windows,” she sneered. “Please, just put on a cloak,” she encouraged.
    With a deep foreboding, I put on a heavy linen and sat at the mirror to tie back my hair. Nefertiti watched my progress from behind me. “It’s a good thing you’re dark,” she remarked. “No one will notice you.”
    I glared at her, but she was no longer watching me. All of her thoughts now were on Kiya, and she stared down the hall as if she could see what her husband was doing already. When I was done, I went and stood at the door. My father would have wanted me to do this. It was for the good of the family. And spying wasn’t against the laws of Ma’at. I wasn’t stealing, just listening.
    “I need to know everything that he tells her,” she said. She wrapped a long cape over her sheath and shivered. “I’ll wait here. And Mutny—”
    I frowned.
    “Be careful.”
    I felt my heart in my throat as I slipped into the courtyard. The air was warm and reed mats slapped softly against the palace windows, moving in the breeze. No one was out. The moon was a sliver in the sky, and unless someone were looking for me, there would be no reason to walk beyond the palace doors in the middle of the night. I passed through a succession of courtyards, counting them as I went. I kept close to the walls, near the shrubs and ivy. When I arrived in Kiya’s courtyard, I stopped to listen, but there was no sound. I crept along until I reached the third window. I glanced across the courtyard and saw no one, then crouched to listen. Now there were voices; I pressed myself flat against the wall, trying to hear what Pharaoh was saying.

When you set in western lightland, earth is in darkness as if in death. Every lion comes from its den. All the serpents bite. Darkness hovers, earth is silent, as their maker rests in lightland
    .
    He was reciting poetry.

Earth brightens when you dawn in lightland. When you shine as Aten of daytime, as you cast your rays, the Two Lands are in festivity. Awake they stand on their feet. You have roused them!

    “Let me read the rest.” It was Kiya’s voice. I heard the rustle of papyrus, and then she began to read.

Roads come open when you rise. The fish in the river dart before you. Your rays are in the midst of the sea. You are the One who makes seed grow, who creates life, who feeds the son in his mother’s womb, who soothes him to still his tears. Oh, Nurse in the womb, oh, Giver of breath. You nourish all that you make
    .
    So this was the spell that Kiya, with her long willowy legs, cast on him…the magic of quiet sanctuary. Away from Nefertiti’s constant plans and politics, Amunhotep and Kiya read poetry together. From beneath the window, I could smell burning incense. I waited to see what else they would talk about, and he began telling her stories of what life would be like in Memphis, where he’d grown up as a boy.
    “My rooms will be in the center of the palace,” he said, “and to my right I will place you and give you the best of everything.”
    I heard her giggle like a child. Nefertiti never giggled; she laughed, deep and breathy like a woman.
    “Come!” He must have grabbed her, because I heard them fall heavily on the bed, and I covered my mouth in horror. How could he take a woman in pregnancy? He would hurt the child!
    “Wait,” she whispered, and her voice grew stern. “What about my father?”
    “Vizier Panahesi? Of course he will come with us to Memphis,” he pronounced, as if there was never any other option. “And I will give him the highest position at court.”
    “Such as?”
    “Such as whatever he wants,” he promised. “You never have to worry. Your father is loyal to me and my cause. There is no vizier in Egypt I trust above Panahesi.”
    I looked across the courtyard and there, in the silvery light, was the vizier listening to everything that I’d just heard. He was standing