Lion Head Mesa Two Auguries

She remembers what he said, when last they met. She nods and follows him from the high desert heat and into the cool limestone passageway that resolves in his Prince’s chambers. He seats himself before her and she reaches to wet the end of a pestle with the prepared mixture.

He stills and she draws slowly upon the bottom of his eyelid. The obsidian color is harsh against his red fur, beautifully so. The natural slant of his eyes are enhanced like this. He looks harsher. He looks like Pharaoh.

“I prayed to the goddess Hathor that you would come to me this morning, Erpa-ha,” the fellahin tests the reception of her words. “She made it so.”