Pharai
The jet was too quiet.
Only the engines. Only my breathing. Only the sound of four gods deciding if they were about to start a war at 30,000 feet.
Anubis hadn't moved. He was still in the back, in the shadows by the bed, arms crossed. His amber eyes were on me. Not guilty. Not defensive. Calculating.
Horus took a step forward first. "Brother," he said. The word was a blade. "If you were the last one with the body, then where is she now?"
Hathor stood beside him. She wasn't shaking. She wasn't crying. That was worse. Golden earrings catching the cabin light, hands at her sides, every inch the goddess of love who had buried her own daughter once before.
"Tell us, Anpu," she said softly. 'Anpu.' His true name. "Where is our daughter?"
Anubis exhaled through his nose. A sound like wind through a tomb. "You saw," he said to me. Voice low, gravel and stone. "In the 'per nefer'. You saw what I did."
