He counted more than a dozen such homes along the road from the main gate to the inner city.

When Pindor noticed them, he asked, “Are those places cursed?”

“I don’t know,” Jake answered. “The symbol on the top—the one that looks like horns—is the hieroglyph for ka, the Egyptian word for soul or spirit.”

Kady snorted. “And even I can guess what that skull means.”

Death.

Jake shared a worried look with his friends. “From the dripping red paint, I think we’re looking at the symbol for that cult Politor was telling us about.”

Marika turned to him. “The Blood of Ka.”

“He said they were stirring up trouble, cracking down on people.” Jake nodded to another house. “He also mentioned something about Blood Games.”

Marika paled. “Do you think all those families are dead?”

“They’re definitely not home,” Pindor said dourly. He wiped sweat from his face and glowered at the sun overhead.

By now they’d reached the inner wall and passed through another arched gateway. It was like stepping from a loud party into a funeral. The people lining the streets were mostly Egyptians. They stood stiffly, many shaded by wide umbrellas. They nodded as the princess passed; but Nefertiti ignored them and stayed slumped in her palanquin, lost in worries, judging by the way she absently chewed the knuckle of a finger.

“Happy place,” Kady whispered.

As they marched down the main street, Jake studied the Egyptian section of Ka-Tor. Constructed out of black stone blocks, the homes stood taller here, some rising three stories. None were painted, giving this region of the city a stern appearance; but peeks through doorways revealed a brighter heart to these homes: tiled floors, statues, even wooden furniture—a rarity, considering how few trees must grow out in the desert. Most of the dwellings also had courtyards with their own tinkling fountains and flowering desert vines.

But even here Jake spotted a home sealed and painted with the skull of Ka. So even the Egyptians suffered under the thumb of that cult.

“Looks like they’re taking us to the pyramid,” Marika said, drawing back Jake’s attention. “I think that must be the royal palace.”

He stared toward the end of the street where a four-sided pyramid climbed twenty stories. It looked as if it had been sculpted out of a single block of stone, much like the desert outpost. An arched tunnel gave entry at the base of the pyramid. Windows glowed along the sloped sides. Balconies dotted the higher levels.

Definitely people living in there.

And Marika was right. Soldiers in full armor gathered at the opening at the base of the pyramid to greet the returning princess. This had to be the royal palace.

Once near the entrance, Nefertiti climbed out of her palanquin and rushed forward to meet a clutch of black-robed figures huddled like a blood clot in the shadow of the tunnel. Her words, sharp with worry, reached Jake as he and his friends were marched forward to join her.