He sighs and settles down on my bed, lying back with his pale arms tucked behind his head. As I slip the bangles on to my arm, Phoenix says, “I am relieved you’re all right.”
I hear the sincerity in his tone, and its warmth washes over me. He’s my family, too.
“I’d not leave you here to take care of yourself,” I say, glancing up. “You’d be in trouble.”
His eyebrows hike. “Oh, I plan on getting into much trouble tonight. And I’m taking you down with me.”
Chapter Five
There is a quiet fear churning through the cool night air of Alexandria. It hums just below the clattering, pulsing chaos of the Royal Quarter. It festers, decaying away at the citizens, like the dead buried beneath the streets and gardens; the catacombs.
Alexandria is dressed for the Sekhmet feast: blood reds; deep lavenders; dusty roses. All in celebration of life and love to soothe Sekhmet. It’s her wrath that must be sated in order for the Nile to rise, and the ground to bear a bountiful harvest.
Candra’s taunt of my name’s origin comes to mind, as Astarte was likened to the war goddess Sekhmet. My mother claimed she chose Astarte because I had much wrath in need of taming—I’ve always had a temper. But, I know this was her way of teasing, as she often called me her little evening star. So honestly, I’m unsure whether my name is of Greek or Egyptian descent. Although I choose to believe I’m not unlike the city I grew up in: diverse.
A guardian waves a tapestry with the image of the war goddess. The feast is close to the change of the season, when the Nile rises to fertilize the crops. So even if there is no war, it’s become our way to relive the time when she brought us out of our misery, and to give life to our land.
The legend says that long ago, the pharaohs incited a rebellion. They tried to use the powers of the Kythan to overthrow the gods. The lioness-headed deity Sekhmet was sent to earth by Ra to punish man for his disobedience.
Sekhmet became The Eye of Ra and descended upon man, desecrating everything in her path.
But seeing the carnage, Ra feared for the demise of his most loved creation: man. He commanded Sekhmet to stop, but Sekhmet was unstoppable in her blood lust. The fields, the land, and the Nile ran with blood. Ra ordered a tonic, one combining alcohol, blood, belladonna, and opium—stained red with pomegranate—to be poured over the land in her path.
Sekhmet thought it was blood and drank it. She became filled with joy and love. To further soothe her, Ra named her “The One Who Comes in Peace.” And after battles are fought and won, we praise Sekhmet, pacifying her destructive nature, and peace is returned to Egypt.
But there was no great battle won today.
A storm cloud hangs over us, swelling with uncertainty of the Leymak’s return. Of Octavian’s legions, stationed just miles out, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
And our ruler is not here to walk in the procession—to comfort Alexandria in her uncertainty. She is far across the sea, waging a war she may not return from. So regardless of the distress in the air, Xarion is right. We need this feast. We need it to be an amazing celebration that will pacify the lioness deity and praise the gods. For it to strengthen us, unite us, and impress upon the gods to protect us.
All of Alexandria is equal tonight: slaves mingle with nobles; royalty dances with commoners; the varying districts of the city admire the gods in unity, despite their different beliefs. It reminds me of what Fadil said, and I question how the immortal ones could ever punish them as they praise them so. The people feast savagely, dance seductively, and bathe themselves in blood-red.
Though this designed demonstration of carnage is a welcome deviation from the massacre on the battlefield in the desert.
The gold and malachite beads in my hair clank, swaying against my shoulders as I move through the dancing bodies. I lift the sheer hem of my dress, dodging the pools staining the ground. It flows in tiny rivers, washing the sand-covered granite in crimson. The fires reflect in its liquescent, shiny surface, and the whole Beta District is alight with life.
Feet splash the red concoction of beer and opium as people laugh and dance. My sandals are already covered in crimson, as if I’ve been dipping my feet in blood.
In the middle, giant barrels are filled to the brim of the mix, pouring over the side, people dipping in their goblets. Half of the celebrating citizens are already drunk. Their bodies undulate, vibrating to the low drum of music.
A topless servant twirls in circles, her chest bathed in the red drink, and by her side, encouraging her on—my friend. Phoenix.
Of course. I shake my head as I approach him. “Please don’t overdo it tonight. I won’t be guilted into sitting you this time.”
He tips his cup back, guzzling the opium-laced drink, then laughs. “Star!” He presses the scantily-clad servant to his naked chest, their skin sheen from sweat and oils. “Let me fetch you a drink. Then you won’t mind my obnoxiousness as much.”
The girl giggles, running her hands down Phoenix’s chest. It’s the norm here. Every week, there is a different celebration, another reason to praise the gods. And Phoenix takes advantage of them all. But the Sekhmet feast is the most pleasing to him as the heart of it is to live and love, to show the gods how thankful we are that they have given us bodies to unite and populate the world.
Phoenix takes the chore of spreading his seed very seriously. I laugh again at him as he dips the girl low, burying his head in her neck. But even he won’t cross the boundaries.
The Kythan are forbidden to be with humans.
We are here to serve the pharaohs. And even tonight, where everyone is of equal status, the law cannot be broken.
He releases her and snakes his limber body over to me. “Come on,” he encourages. “I need to find a gaggle of Narco girls to sate my hunger.” He glances back at the dancing slave girl as she moves on to another, her hands held high, her body lit with alcohol.
“That you do.” I eye him. “Just be sober in time for the procession.”