They entered into the vast palace of black stone, where dwelt and dreamt the Great King of the Delta with all his court, and, moving among the dreams of the King and the courtesans and soldiers, drifting between squat pillars like shadows cast by flickering lanterns, they came to the throne room itself in the Hall of Audience.
Clad now in dreams, halfway between waking and death, Sekenre and Kanratica wore the ornate garments and beehive-shaped crowns of a king and queen of the Delta.
He wrote the history of their long, joint reign into his book.
But he was bleeding so much. Blood poured down his legs, over his feet.
He understood, dimly, that all the old wounds of his sorceries, which had been healed by sorcery, had opened up, as if someone had discovered the secret keys to each of th
