In this exciting sequel to Eye of the Moon, Tuthmosis's brother, Amenhotep, struggles with the priests and his power-hungry young wife, Nefertiti. Ta Miu, who helped Tuthmosis and Isikara escape in Eye of the Moon, is now maidservant to Nefertiti's rival, Kiya. But when Ta Miu falls for tomb-robber, Samut, she finds herself imprisoned. Meanwhile Tuthmosis and Isikara return from Egypt in secret, sending rumours flying about the prince's intentions. Nefertiti is terrified that he is after her husband's throne, while the High Priest fears his secret will be revealed. Their hiding place betrayed by Samut, Isikara is captured and thrown into prison alongside Ta Miu, and Tuthmosis is murdered. Only Ta Miu and Isikara know the truth and unless they can escape, the guilty will go free... Dianne Hofmeyr grew up next to the sea on the southern tip of Africa. Her travels with notebook and camera to Egypt, Tunisia, and Senegal, through China, Vietnam, and across Siberia have led to stories that have won South Africa's M-Net Book Prize and the Sanlam Gold for Youth Literature, as well as the Young Africa Award and an IBBY. She is also the author of Fish Notes and Star Song and several picture books based on Ancient Egyptian myths. Eye of the Sun 1 THE ENCOUNTER T hebes is the color of chalk—a mixture of sand swirling up from the desert and dust billowing down from the ancient limestone mountains. It sifts down over the city like fine bread flour. And this morning hordes of people with handcarts and donkeys pushing their way through the narrow streets were kicking up even more dust than usual. I felt a shiver of excitement. This was going to be the best market ever. Traders were coming from far-off Syria with exotic oils, woven cloths, spices, and nuggets of precious stone as large as duck eggs. It didn’t help that there was no ferryman waiting on the west bank of the Great River. The crowd was restless. Children squalled and mothers scolded. I pulled the rough cloak around my head and hoped no one would recognize me. When a boat finally came, the crush was so great that an old woman fell from the quayside and disappeared under the water. “She’s not coming up! Quickly, do something!” “Perhaps a crocodile’s got her!” “Oi! You! If a crocodile’s got her, you won’t be coming back either,” someone shouted as a boy teetered on the edge of the ferry, ready to jump in after her. He dived all the same and came up dragging the woman. They were hauled back onto the ferry. People laughed and teased as they picked off strands of waterweed from the old woman’s hair and tunic. All this took time. Eventually on the east bank, I was carried along by a surge of people like a bit of debris swept down by the flood. Men, women, large and small, old and young, all mingled with loud shrieks and yelps as carts were overturned, a child fell, and a dog was trodden underfoot. In the midst of this some geese escaped their cages and were honking and hissing and snapping at passing feet. A pestilence of flies! My tunic hem was dragging in the dirt, and through some fresh donkey droppings as well. There was a loud curse behind me. “Oi! Mind where you’re going, stupid girl!” I had barely time to save myself from falling under the wheels of a handcart piled high with onions and leeks, when someone held out a hand to steady me. “Watch out! They’ll flatten you as quickly as oxen trampling through barley,” he shouted over the noise of the geese. “Come to the side of the road. You’re limping.” I glanced at the boy as he examined my foot. He looked familiar. “Your sandals are ridiculous with those upturned tips! No wonder you tripped! You need strong leather sandals on market day!” He pressed around my ankle. “Ouch! That hurt!” I snapped at him. “It’s only twisted. But it needs to be bound.” I pulled away and tried to stand. “I’m fine, thank you!” “You’re not! Sit down. I’ll bind it for you.” I looked back at him. Smooth, freshly shaved cheeks. No formal wig. His hair falling in damp tendrils against his neck. “Aren’t you the boy who saved the old woman?” He shrugged. “Saving old women or princesses, it’s all the same to me!” “Princesses?” He raised a dark eyebrow and grinned at me. “Your rough cloak doesn’t fool me. I can see by your fine linen tunic you’re no country girl come to town on market day. You don’t belong here, do you?” I glanced quickly over my shoulder in case anyone had overheard. “Don’t look so dismayed. Your secret won’t be told. It’s safe with me.” “I’m . . .” I left off and brushed his hand from my foot, eager to get away. He jumped up just as abruptly and pulled me against his chest. “Huh?” I gave him a sharp jab with my elbow. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me!” “I will, as soon as that donkey has passed. You almost got yourself knocked down again. Now sit calmly while I bandage your foot.” He grinned at me. “I know what I’m doing. This isn’t the first time I’ve don