Djer gave the kid another coin, then scooted him out. “Thank you, Riku.”

Nefertiti folded back her hood. Jake expected her to be red faced with fury; but she looked crestfallen, her eyes moist with restrained tears. “Do you all think so ill of me?”

The blond woman spoke. “Under the shadow of the Blood of Ka, even that which is bright will appear dark.”

Jake felt a pang of sorrow for Nefertiti. She was prideful and willful, but how much of her spirit had been corrupted by Kree? He remembered how she had looked out in the desert: wild and free, out from under that monster’s shadow.

Another knock, and the door popped open again. Nefertiti barely got her hood up in time. It was the same boy, Riku. He slapped his forehead.

“I forgot to say! Those outlanders. They are to be sent to the Blood Games.”

Jake jolted, ready to rush him for more information.

Djer held Jake back and knelt beside the boy. “When will it be?”

“Sunrise!”

“Do you mean on the morrow?”

A fast nod. “Princess Layla is furious. Wants them killed before another day passes. They say she’s the one who exposed the plot of the outlanders. She’ll make a great queen one day!”

Djer bent to whisper in Riku’s ear. The boy nodded vigorously, took another coin, and sped out. Djer locked the door this time. His eyes were shadowed by worry.

“My cousin’s a crafty one. Pulling gold out of ashes. He paints Layla as the savior. None will speak against her … or against him if he marries her.”

“So all we’ve done is make the path to the throne easier for him,” Jake said sourly.

“There remains but two boulders in that path.” Djer looked at Jake and Nefertiti. “He will keep the pharaoh alive until you’re both captured. I suspect that’s why the games were set for the coming morning.”

Jake understood. “He wants to lure us out. He knows we’ll try to rescue the others.”

“Precisely.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Nefertiti asked.

“First, we’ve got to get you both somewhere safe, somewhere with fewer eyes. It only takes one person to misspeak and draw the palace guards here.”

“Then what are we going to do?” Jake said, holding back a growing panic.

“We’re going to do what my cousin wants. We’re going to rescue your friends.”

“How?”

Rather than answering Jake, Djer turned to the others. “For too long the resistance has smoldered, waiting for a chance like this.”

The old man named Torcolus spoke. “There is chance, Djer, then there is foolishness. We are not strong enough. We are too scattered, too few to make a move so soon.”

Djer shrugged. “We make a move now, or we’ll never make it. If Kree and his bloody-robed minions seize power, we’ve lost before we’ve even begun.”

The discussion waged back and forth; but slowly, one by one, Djer won them over. If Kree was anything like Djer, Jake began to understand how the Blood of Ka had grown to have such power.