He sat above her on the wall, Annie standing between his knees staring up at him, thinking his the most beautiful face she had ever seen. Of my precious four days, she thought, more than two are gone. Time is so stingy. “How I missed you,” she said, “all these months. But you did the right thing when you saved Katie, Strat, and I have held your noble act in my heart as an example of how to live.”

Annie imagined saying those words in 1999 to a boy in her high school. The situation would not come up, though, because boys in her class liked to be examples of how not to live. Noble conduct was not a goal in her century.

“Here comes trouble,” said Strat softly.

Guards were walking toward them, motioning at Strat to get down. But there was nothing scary about them. They were not armed and dangerous like her tomb escorts. They were just nice guys keeping people off tourist attractions. Annie smiled and waved.

Strat hopped down onto the pavement. “I don't think they know you,” he murmured. “They probably weren't part of the sacrifice ritual. They've lost interest now that I'm off their wall. Let's find the workmen's village and buy some food.”

Already the cool breezes were gone and the air parched. Huge numbers of people had arrived to take advantage of the short time before the blistering heat began.

Crews were getting to work on funerary chapels and memorial temples. Teams were erecting statues and walling in family cemeteries. Flowers were being delivered, and fine spices and incense being burned. Daughters were visiting their dead mothers and sons paying respect to their ancestors.

Where they had been alone only minutes ago, Annie and Strat were among hundreds now.

“I can hear a choir rehearsing somewhere,” she said. “This is so much more fun with you here. I really feel part of ancient Egypt. Of course, I almost was part of ancient Egypt. The dead part.”

“We are in the center of the City of the Dead,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” she said, “for keeping me in the city of the living instead,” and she began to cry. “Oh, Strat,” she whispered, “what should we do about Renifer? She didn't choose the city of the living. Should Renifer have to obey our choice, and not be allowed her choice? Is she still a sacrifice or has she become a suicide?”

Strat looked around him. In the west, where the sands deepened into hills, just before the hills soared into cliffs hundreds of feet high, somewhere tucked among those hills was the workers' village.

“I know,” said Annie. “At some point in the day when nobody's around, we'll go back down and offer her a second chance. I know I'd take it. I'd be sick of dying by then.”

Strat took a deep breath. “I think it would be better if we went right now and closed the shaft.”