Renifer held out her arms and the girl came, and Renifer felt its heartbeat, the heat of its skin and the wet of its tears.

Pankh kept the boat pole between himself and the pale creature. “Her skin is the color of a worm from under a rock,” he said in distaste. “Perhaps that's the color of a returning spirit.”

“Now, Pankh. You just said she was an escaping slave. She cannot be both.” Renifer coaxed the girl to sit in the bottom of the boat. She picked out a sweet pastry and the creature ate it, but refused the beer, which looked fine to Renifer, although maybe it needed to be strained again. Nile beer was rather thick. “The gods have sent her to us, Pankh. They even made you cry out the name of Hetepheres. She is not a ka, but perhaps sent by the queen's ka! I cannot imagine the purpose. But soon the gods will reveal all. Our task will be made clear to us.”

“It is clear to me,” said Pankh, “that we should leave her here.”

Renifer patted the girl's hand and said soothingly, “We're going to go home now. You're going to have a nice bath and put decent clothing on.”

“She's the color of a rat's tail,” said Pankh.

“She's the color of ivory,” said Renifer. Even Pharaoh possessed little ivory, for it was so precious and rare. Father, of course, in his wealth, had acquired a number of pieces. Renifer lifted her voice to the gods and sang a song of thanksgiving for being honored with a girl of ivory.

Pankh swore at the same gods. He poled much more vigorously out of the papyrus than he had coming in.

The creature—or runaway slave—or foreigner—or ka—slid into the bottom of the boat and slept.

ANNIE

Humans!

Annie rushed forward. They were in a funny little boat with a swan's neck prow. But the people in the boat did not want her, and the man shoved her away with his oar.

“No, no,” she said desperately. “There are crocodiles in there. Take me with you. Please? I'll do anything.”

The man continued to push her away, but the girl behind him suddenly smiled at Annie, elbowed the man aside and drew Annie into the safety of the funny little boat. She was desperately relieved to have her feet out of the mud.

Her rescuer was younger than Annie. Very pretty, with rich warm golden-brown skin. Her black hair was extremely decorative, in many tiny tight braids, falling evenly to her shoulders, and heavily laced with beads. The man was bare except for a white kilt.

The boat was a sort of glorified raft. It was made, Annie realized, of hundreds of the very triangular reeds which had so terrified her. The woven reeds were dried out and stiff, and when she pressed her fingernail into them, they felt like Styrofoam, not wood.