“Pardon?” said the old woman.

“Grandma Jo!”

The old woman flicked a puzzled glance at Meryt-Re, then stared at Jennifer. “Do I know you, dear?”

“Are…aren’t you…,” Jennifer began.

Meryt-Re gazed at Jennifer with a baffled expression. “Dje-Nefer? Are you all right?”

Jennifer stared. “I,uh,” she stammered, clutching her scarab amulet. “I thought…never mind.”

The resemblance was amazing, even though the woman’s braided gray hair was longer than Grandma Jo’s ever had been. Her eyes were outlined with a thick line of dark green kohl, and her skin was darker than either Meryt-Re’s or Jennifer’s. Could it be Grandma Jo? But surely, she would have said something, if she was.

The old woman shrugged, then turned to Meryt-Re, who was eyeing Jennifer with a most peculiar expression. “May I help you, dear?”

“No, no, thank you. We were just looking.”

“For anything in particular?”

“My daughter was just admiring one of your outfits,” said Meryt-Re.

“Which one?” asked the woman, all business.

“The white one, with the beaded collar,” said Meryt-Re. “But we really can’t take the time to look at it. We have so much to do.”

“Wait, I have one just like it in the back. Ti, go get it, please.”

The boy trotted behind her, into a closed-off area in the rear of the tent.

“My grandson,” said the old woman.

“A fine boy,” said Meryt-Re. The woman beamed at her.

Ti soon returned, carefully carrying a folded dress and a small wooden box. The woman took the dress from him and shook it out in front of Meryt-Re. Ti lifted a layered collar of green beads from the box and held it up in front of Jennifer, grinning at her.

“It’s nice,” said Meryt-Re. “What are you asking?”

“Two deben of gold,” said the woman.

“Mm. Well, perhaps some other time,” said Meryt-Re, turning away. “My clothing chest is full enough.”

The old woman raised one eyebrow. “Surely a lady such as yourself could make room for one more? You deserve finery, my dear.”

“Don’t we all,” said Meryt-Re, laughing. “Thank you, but we really must be on our way.”

The woman leaned closer to Meryt-Re and laid the dress on the table. “But can you not see yourself in this? The beads of the pectoral are made of the very best malachite, perfect for your complexion.”

“Well…,” said Meryt-Re, bending to examine the dress more thoroughly. “It is lovely. But see? There is a flaw in the linen.”

Jennifer squinted at the spot where Meryt-Re was pointing. She couldn’t make out more than a tiny bump on the surface.

“The malachite in the collar is pretty, but I know where I can get better,” Meryt-Re continued.

“I assure you, you will not find clothing superior to mine,” said the old woman.

“My grandmother Mutemwija makes the best,” said Ti, scowling.

“Hush, boy,” said Mutemwija. “You are right about the flaw, however. Perhaps we could come to an agreement.”

“I’m not carrying any gold with me today,” Meryt-Re said loftily. “I have this.”

She rummaged in her basket and pulled out one of Ramose’s carvings, a translucent, white sitting cat. Its eyes were made of pale green chips.

Ti’s eyebrows flew up and then back down again so swiftly that Jennifer wasn’t sure if she had imagined it. Mutemwija’s face was expressionless as she took the cat from Meryt-Re and inspected, much as Meryt-Re had done with the dress, looking for flaws. Jennifer stroked her scarab amulet and doubted she would find any.

“Quartz, is it?” asked Mutemwija, glancing at Meryt-Re. “This might be enough for the gown, but not the necklace also.”

“Quartz is difficult to carve,” said Meryt-Re, with a toss of her black hair. “My husband Ramose is one of the finest stone artists in all of Kemet. Ptah guides his hand—as surely as he does yours. He is the exclusive supplier of amulets to a high priest of Amon-Ra.”

Mutemwija turned the cat over to look at the base. “I suppose this is meant for a tomb, then? It is very fine, but as I say, not quite enough. Now, if you had something to go with it…”

Meryt-Re retrieved another carving, twin to the first, but made of turquoise, and with the cat’s tail curving in the opposite direction. This cat’s eyes were black.

“Ahhhh,” said Mutemwija. “A matched set. Very well. The cats for the dress and the pectoral, and we have a bargain.”

“I accept,” said Meryt-Re, offering her hand for the woman to shake. “Now we really must be moving on.”

Ti wrapped up the dress and necklace and handed it to Meryt-Re, who slipped it into her basket.

“May one ask if the lady will be wearing my creation somewhere special? I must say, it is one of my favorites,” said Mutemwija.

Meryt-Re leaned conspiratorially closer. “The palace!” she said. “My family and I have been invited to dine there this evening. Have we not, Dje-Nefer?”

“Ra! That’s an honor,” said Mutemwija, smiling at Jennifer. “Dje-Nefer, is it?” She slurred the name, making it sound more like Jennifer’s. “May I know your name?”

“It’s Meryt-Re,” said Meryt-Re. She glanced at the sun. “But we really must…”

“Wait,” said Mutemwija. She whispered something to Ti, who then trotted to the back. When he returned, he was carrying a small bundle under his arm. Mutemwija took it from him, then handed it to Meryt-Re.

With a puzzled frown, Meryt-Re shook it out. It was a dress like hers, but in a smaller size.

“Will that fit your daughter?” asked Mutemwija.

“Well, yes, but I can’t…”

Mutemwija held up her hand, palm outward. “A gift. For your little girl. She reminds me of my daughter’s daughter.”

“A gift?” said Meryt-Re.

“A gift?” Ti squawked, looking appalled.

Mutemwija patted him on the shoulder. “Yes. And if you should happen to mention my name at the palace tonight…”

Ti’s expression cleared.

“Of course,” said Meryt-Re. “I will tell as many people as possible where I got this lovely outfit.”

“I would be grateful,” said Mutemwija. “My grandson and I have only recently arrived from the south.”

“So you do not yet have a large client base,” said Meryt-Re. “I see. I will do what I can. The quality of your work speaks for itself.”

“Thank you,” said Mutemwija.

Meryt-Re inclined her head and walked away. Jennifer followed, sneaking a glance over her shoulder.

Mutemwija was staring after them. She raised her hand in farewell, then turned to talk with another customer.

“I am very pleased,” Meryt-Re confessed to Jennifer. “I can’t believe we got my new outfit for only two of Ramose’s carvings.”

“Is that good?” asked Jennifer.

“Oh, yes, very good. I was expecting to have to use more. The quality of this outfit—of both of them—is exceptional. I would have recommended her to others even if she had not asked me to. She will have to learn to price her wares accordingly if she is hoping to do well in this market.”

“She…was very nice,” said Jennifer, looking over her shoulder once again. Mutemwija’s booth was no longer visible. “Maybe she liked you.”

“I think it more likely that she liked you,” said Meryt-Re. “You heard her say you reminded her of her granddaughter.”

Mutemwija had certainly reminded her of Grandma Jo, so the feeling was mutual.

“It’s so sad that your grandmother is no longer alive,” said Meryt-Re.

“What?” squeaked Jennifer.

“Pardon?” Meryt-Re frowned at her.

“But she…uh, sorry. I just didn’t hear you clearly,” said Jennifer.

Meryt-Re gave her an odd look, but didn’t say anything else. They rounded a corner of the market, to see a woman walking towards them with a black wig carefully balanced on a wooden stand.

“That’s the next thing we need to purchase,” said Meryt-Re.

To Jennifer’s newly-educated eyes, bartering for the wigs seemed to go well enough, although Meryt-Re didn’t seem as happy about the trade as she had been for the other items. She exchanged an orange-red ankh, two miniature headrests, an Eye of Horus carved from the same dark blue stone as her scarab, and the hippo, since the man’s wife was expecting their third child.

“Well, they are real hair,” said Meryt-Re, as they walked away. “It was worth it.”

“Are we done?” asked Jennifer. She was sure that the sunlight beating down on her shoulders was giving her a sunburn..

“Almost,” said Meryt-Re. “We just need to buy sandals. The clothing vendor told me that old Khufu, across the market, makes the best.”

“Was he telling the truth?” asked Jennifer, wriggling her sore bare feet.

“Oh, Khufu is probably his cousin or something, but I have no doubt he makes good sandals, or he would not have recommended him. Angry customers would only bring him misfortune.”

“I wonder if he’s going to tell Khufu we’re coming,” said Jennifer, thinking about the secrecy that Meryt-Re had wanted to keep, so that she could get better bargains.

“Possibly,” said Meryt-Re. “Let us see if we can outfly the news. However, I had a reason for asking about sandals. Now he knows that Ramose the amulet-maker is moving up in the world. He will tell others.”

Old Khufu did indeed make superior footwear, and Meryt-Re was able to trade two pieces from her hoard for four pairs of leather-soled sandals. She had Jennifer carry them.

Since they had gone to a different market, it took longer to get home. By the time they returned to the house, Jennifer was ready for a nap.

She sagged against the wall of the main room, as Meryt-Re placed her basket carefully on the floor. Ramose appeared from his workshop, followed by a very dirty Mentmose.

“Well?” asked Ramose. “How did it go?”

“Not as well as I could have wished, but well enough,” said Meryt-Re. She dug under the clothing and handed the nearly empty bag of carvings to him.

“Oh, good,” said Ramose. “I was hoping to present some pieces to the Pharaoh. I thought they would all be gone.”

“I’m a better bargainer than that,” said Meryt-Re.

Jennifer laid the sandals on the floor and helped her unpack the baskets.

“I know, I know. I was just teasing. And what did you…?” He let out a low whistle as Meryt-Re held up the clothing, the wigs and the jewelry. “Ptah! You bought all this, and still had some carvings left over?”

“Yes, Ramose.”

“I had no idea you were as good a bargainer as this,” he said. “Perhaps I should send you when next I want to obtain stones from the miners. Dear one, I am most impressed.”

“I admit we got some of the items for a better trade than I expected,” said Meryt-Re. “But the other trades were good, too. I could not have done so well if it were not for the quality of your work. It is your loving touch upon the stones that impresses them, Ramose.”

Ramose grinned and picked up the little bottle that Meryt-Re had set on the floor and wiggled the stopper out.

“Careful,” said Meryt-Re.

Ramose sniffed at it. “Lotus oil?”

“Yes,” said Meryt-Re. “Although, I would have liked something more exotic, like spikenard or myrrh.”

“I’m told myrrh is the Pharaoh’s favorite scent,” said Ramose. “Neferhotep said she had several myrrh trees brought from Punt. They have been planted in front of her mortuary temple.”

“We are not so fortunate. Lotus will have to do for us,” said Meryt-Re.

“Is this for me?” asked Mentmose, as he picked up one of the men’s outfits. His eyes grew round as he looked at it.

“Yes, my son,” said Ramose. “Women will be talking of your beauty for years to come.”

“Perhaps even the Pharaoh herself will notice you,” added Ramose, grinning at Mentmose’s blush, visible even on his dark skin.

“Only if you wash.” Meryt-Re snatched the outfit out of Mentmose’s filthy fingers and examined it for smudges. “Did you know you have stone powder on your nose?”

“I bet Tetisheri will like it,” said Jennifer, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

Mentmose glared at her, then smiled good-naturedly. “Dinner at the palace! My friends will be so envious. I wonder if we will be seated anywhere near Her Majesty?”

“Probably not,” said Meryt-Re. “Now, we must dash to the river to wash.”

The four of them paraded down the streets to the banks of the Nile, where several soldiers stood on guard, looking out across the water. After a brief discussion, Meryt-Re and Ramose chose the driest path they could find, trying to avoid the sticky black mud. The path passed near a thick patch of spiky plants.

“It’s too dangerous,” said Meryt-Re. “There may be crocodiles.”

“It’s either that or mud to the knees,” argued Ramose. “Besides, the soldiers would have warned us if they’d seen any.”

Meryt-Re shook her head. “We still must be very careful,” she said, as she waded into the water and stripped off her dress, letting it float in the current. Ramose and Mentmose followed.

Jennifer glanced nervously up and down the river. There were a few boys in the distance, playing with sticks and stones, but no one seemed to be watching her. She made her way out to where the others were splashing and ducking and started to pull off her dress. A movement in the rushes caught her gaze and she stood still.

Two piggy black eyes stared back at her, framed in a fleshy pink and brown face, just rising above the surface of the water. Small ears twitched.

“Hey, look,” she said. “A hippo!”

“What?” said Mentmose, as he emerged from the water, wrapping his wet kilt around his hips.

“A hippopotamus,” said Jennifer, pointing. “In there.”

Mentmose looked, then froze. “Pehemau,” he whispered. Jennifer’s ears translated it as “water ox.”

Ramose and Meryt-Re splashed nearer. Mentmose silently held up a hand, warding them off. He shooed them away from the rushes. The hippo rose out of the water, water streaming from its sides.

As Meryt-Re and Ramose angled away from the plants, Mentmose grabbed Jennifer’s shoulder and backed slowly away from the huge animal.

The hippo eyed them, then settled back into the river, water squirting up from beneath its powerful body.

“Ra,” said Mentmose, as they made it to the riverbank. “That was close.”

“It was just a hippo,” said Jennifer.

“What do you mean?” Mentmose shook his head. “Little sisters are so stupid. If that water ox had been more interested in defending its territory, we’d all be dead. Now, come on.”

Ramose and Meryt-Re joined them, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies.

“Did you see a crocodile?” asked Ramose.

“No,” said Mentmose. “A water ox.”

Meryt-Re’s face paled. “Thank the gods you were not hurt. And that you warned us.” She looked at Jennifer. “Did you not even get clean?”

“Uh, no,” said Jennifer. She glanced at Mentmose. He was frowning at her.

“It is too late now. You will have to wash off at home.”

They informed the guards of the presence of the hippopotamus and headed back to the house.

Meryt-Re let Jennifer wipe herself down with a damp cloth while Ramose and Mentmose went to don their new finery. When they were all dressed, they assembled in the main room.

“Well, now,” said Meryt-Re. “Don’t we look like we belong in noble society.”

“We will shine, my dear,” said Ramose.

Mentmose stroked the sheer linen of his tunic. The fine material of the men’s long, short-sleeved tunics was nearly transparent and showed off their well-muscled chests. Under the tunics, the spotless white pleated kilts reached nearly to their knees. A piece of the same fabric was wrapped neatly around their hips, like a wide belt. Jennifer had thought they would look funny in their new outfits, but they looked…right.

The short-sleeved white dress that Jennifer now wore fit her perfectly, as did the translucent outer dress, which was belted tight to her waist with a piece of fabric. The outer dress was really just a rectangle of linen with a circle cut out for her head, but Meryt-Re had arranged it so that the fabric fell from her waist in even pleats at the front and back, leaving the fabric at the top to drape down Jennifer’s arms, almost like sleeves.

All of them wore their beaded pectoral collars, which extended halfway to their shoulders. Ramose’s and Mentmose’s black wigs were smooth and shiny, held down with narrow bands of gold. The dozens of braids, tied off with tiny beaded wires, that made up Meryt-Re’s and Jennifer’s wigs swayed gracefully with every movement of their heads.

Meryt-Re gestured for them all to turn, slowly.

“Now, the finishing touch,” said Meryt-Re. “Mentmose, bring me my cosmetics table, please.”

Mentmose ran up the stairs at a pace that made Meryt-Re wince, then returned carrying the spindly-legged table that Jennifer had seen sitting in the larger bedroom. Meryt-Re opened it and began expertly mixing powders from several jars with water on a stone palette. One at a time, they all sat in front of her, where she applied the dark kohl with quick strokes from a small stone spatula. She spent a little more time on Jennifer, highlighting her eyes with green and her cheeks with pink, and painting her lips.

Jennifer longed to scratch at the itchy make-up, but Meryt-Re scowled at her when she reached for her cheek. Meryt-Re handed her the bronze mirror, and gestured that she should look at herself. Why, she was beautiful! Meryt-Re had turned her into an elegant lady.

“I would hardly know you were my own daughter,” said Ramose, chuckling.

“Uh,” said Jennifer, swallowing. If they only knew how true that was!

With quick strokes, Meryt-Re put on her own make-up. And just in time, too.

There was a knock on the door, but before anyone could answer it, Tetisheri burst in, with a man and a woman following more sedately.

“Are you ready?” asked Tetisheri. She gazed at Mentmose. “You look wonderful!”

“Hello, Meryt-Re,” said the woman, in a cool tone. She, too, was dressed in sheer linen and gold jewelry, though she wore a lot more than Meryt-Re. Too much, Jennifer thought, eyeing the woman’s golden headband, earrings, bracelets, rings, and anklets.

“Hello, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “Good evening, Hekhanakhte.”

“Good evening.” Tetisheri’s father, also adorned with jewelry, gestured outside. “I have hired several conveyances for us.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” said Ramose. “We could have walked.”

“The second assistant official to the Curator of Monuments does not walk,” said Satyah, with a sniff.

“Yes, you are quite right, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “We thank you for your forethought and generosity.”

“I’ve never ridden in a sedan chair before,” said Tetisheri. Her cheeks turned pink as she turned to Mentmose. “Mentmose, would you like to share mine?”

Mentmose opened his mouth, but a glance from his mother quelled anything he was about to say. He gave Tetisheri a short, jerky nod.

“I thought the girls…” said Satyah.

“Please, mother?” said Tetisheri.

“I think that would be fine,” said Meryt-Re. “Dje-Nefer can ride with us.”

Satyah pursed her lips, but said nothing further.

The little cat that had slept with Jennifer the night before chose that moment to stalk regally into the room.

“Here is little Miw to bid us goodbye,” said Tetisheri.

“Still only one cat, Meryt-Re?” asked Satyah, with a toss of her head. “We have three now. They were bred from the sacred temple cats.”

“All cats are sacred, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “Miw may not have had an exalted birth, but she is still beloved in the heart of Bastet. She does her job. We have not had any snakes in this house since we adopted her.”

Miw rubbed up against Jennifer’s legs and allowed herself to be lightly stroked. Then she wandered away, intent on her own mysterious feline errands.

“You should get another,” said Satyah. “They are proof against demons, too, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Meryt-Re. She opened the front door. “Shall we?”

Three painted and gilded boxy sedan chairs were lined up in front of the house. Several of the neighbors were peeking out from their front doors and peering down at the street from their roofs. Mentmose waved cheerfully at them all.

When they were all settled in their seats, the bearers started out at a steady walk, the lead man calling out the rhythm.

“Should we shut the curtains?” asked Ramose, his hand on a length of fabric that hung beside the windows.

Meryt-Re shook her head.

“No, I think not. We shall see and be seen. It is well that the world knows Ramose the amulet-maker and his family are on their way to the palace tonight. This will be an evening to remember.”