I shall draw forth my precious treasure from out of the crocodile’s mouth. I reclaim what he has devoured.
—The Book of Returning
(sometimes attributed to Sekenre the Illuminator)
—The Book of Returning
The birds high above might have noticed him, but he was not prey, and so they continued circling in the evening air, over the marshland, where great reeds stirred in the chill breeze and open water rolled gently, black in the shadows, gleaming orange and gold in the rapidly vanishing sunset.
Insects sang in the sighing wind. With a splash, a startled heron took to the air, its wings flashing orange, then golden as it vanished.
But the short, slight figure kept on walking. He wore a loose tunic several sizes too large for him, belted at the waist, and loose trousers rolled up to the kn
