CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
His Most Glorious and Supreme Ra descended for the dungeons of Andros flanked by two dozen of his entourage, his boots echoing on the spiral stone staircase as he descended level after level. He reached the lowest levels and marched down dark stone corridors, lit only by distant shafts of sunlight, passing rows of iron bars. They were like most prisons he had been in: some prisoners rushed forward, shrieking, while others sat there silent, simmering with rage. Ra loved dungeons. They reminded him of his supreme power, of how everyone in the world was subservient to him.
Ra marched down the halls, ignoring them all, interested in only one person: the final prisoner in the final cell. Ra had made sure Duncan was kept in its deepest and darkest part. After all, he wante
