Ammit, the eater of hearts, had chewed and yanked at the chains. Stedfast, impeccably crafted; they refused to break. Anup could not be certain, but he was reasonably confident that some time had passed. How much, he did not know. Minutes, hours, days? Asleep? Awake?
He tore a strip of cotton from his garments and used it to bind his eyes and staunch the flow of the blood which he had wept. He languished.
More time had passed until he heard a voice which rang off the scales like singing copper blades.
“Hello, old one.”
Anup recognized the voice but did not move to acknowledge it.
“Hermes, the great Greek messenger of Olympus. Are you delivering Zeus' apology, or do you have some other message from the mountain? Maybe some mockery.” Anup lifted his head to blindly face Hermes.
“Neithe
