Lion Head Mesa mande

night beckoning. belen rose. she had been dragging a pelt, but when she glanced down, she did not know why. whispers of groaning rock. "pharaoh?" breathless. a man had come. he had called himself Consort and the palace had bowed before him. but he was not ramesses. the children — two had the look of this — this usurper. and queen satsu! where was she? "my lady?" filtered silvertongue's plaintive voice in the subterranean courtyard, glassblue eyes wide and staring.