Free Annabeth Neverending by Leyla Kader Dahm

though I was but the son of a scribe.”
    “I enjoyed your company. Amun was never much fun.”
    Kha seems further emboldened by Ana’s comment. “Princess, should you ever be in need of my assistance, do not hesitate to let me know. I am yours” — he pauses purposefully — “for the asking.”
    Kha’s smoky voice is spellbinding, having a quality that Gabriel’s somehow lacks, and for a moment, I lose myself. I could drift away on a flying carpet of his words. But he brings me back when he bares all his teeth in a full smile. It reminds me of the Big Bad Wolf from “Little Red Riding Hood.” It looks like Kha wants to eat me up. I nod in response, and Kha is gone in an instant, as if he’s vanished into thin air.
    I turn to Sethe, who seems pensive, worried.
    “Kha could be a fine ally,” I point out.
    “Any friend of Amun’s is not an ally worth having.”
    Ana pauses. Perhaps she’s been waiting to ask this question for some time. “You are knowledgeable about so many things, and yet…Tell me; how did it happen? How is it that you were captured?”
    “I grew up in a tiny village in Hattusa known as York, which had been invaded years before by our enemies, your people. I helped lead an uprising so that we could regain our lands, but we failed miserably. We were no match for the strategizing of the Egyptians. I wanted to die I was so ashamed by our surrender. But I tell myself that the god Teshub had a special plan for me, as I was ‘a human trophy worthy of the pharaoh.’”
    “Praise Teshub!” I say zealously.
    “You need not speak blasphemy on my account.”
    “I will worship any god who saw fit to deliver you to my door,” I reply.
    Sethe seems stunned by my comment. He mumbles for a response, looking around nervously. While we feel alone when we’re together, we’re being watched. Slaves and other members of the court surround the periphery of our practice area.
    “Princess, this is a dangerous game we are playing,” Sethe says forebodingly.
    “Only if we lose,” I say softly.
    And then, I can hear Ana’s thought keenly: “I do not deserve your love, but someday, I shall earn it.”
    Ana (and I) looks up at Sethe, and our eyes meet. Our souls interlock. It’s as if everything else has been stripped away, and we can see each other for what we really are. Not a slave and a princess but a boy and a girl. We’re no longer living just for ourselves but for each other.

8
    I come back from my trip down memory lane, as the ankh has fallen from my hand of its own accord. I crawl under the covers of my bed, still wearing my costume, too dragged out to change. Mew Mew slips in next to me, and I hug her tiny body to mine, feeling at peace now that I have a warm - blooded bit of ancient Egypt in my arms.
    “Gabriel was there! I loved Sethe more than I thought possible. And he was from a place called York — York! And my fiancé was my brother. Oh God, my fiancé was my brother…”
    I try to finish my thoughts, mixed up and scary and strange as they may be, but I drift off, spent.

    I awaken with a start, the alarm beeping. I know I shouldn’t, but I hit the snooze button. I’m too drowsy to remember, but I suspect that it isn’t the first time.
    My black wig is still on my head, and my Egyptian makeup is probably smeared all over my face, but lethargy wins out, and I don’t attempt to remedy either situation. Instead, I roll over on my side, hoping that I can carve out a few more moments of slumber before my mother comes in to pull me, kicking and screaming, to full consciousness.
    I hear heavy breathing and cautiously open my lids. Howie is seated right in front of me, watching me with his inquisitive brown eyes.
    “Um, what are you doing?”
    “You didn’t wake up on time, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t having another seizure,” says Howie in a forceful whisper.
    “Not that I’m aware of,” I say, sliding by on a technicality, because I don’t know for certain myself.