Chapter 1
The sun sets fat and aflame into the plains of the west, dying a slow death. Leagues of scrub brush, rocks, and dust stretch to the horizon, beyond which lie the cities of Ekron and Joppa. To the north is Geba, and to the south is Bethlehem, those two perched upon the hilly ridges of the Judean Mountains just like I am, here, imprisoned in this city of Jerusalem.
"Helel?"
The cool winds of this winter month send the voice upwards to where I sit, and I frown, then tilt my head. The sound of footsteps far below catches my ear, and I lean upon my left hand, peering over the edge of the temple roof. A young man in white and red acolyte robes looks around in confusion, carrying a covered basket. His short brown hair is curly and kept neat with a ribbon in black. He's slender and elegant, one of the sons of the elite in this city.
He also happens to be my personal handler.
"Helel?" he calls again, clearly growing frustrated. The basket is set down by his sandaled feet, and he presses his palm to his brow, looking all around at the temple's promenade. The trailing plumes of smoke from the offering pyres weave through the breezes, making him narrow his eyes.
Very quietly I climb down the side of the building, choosing handholds that I've learned by heart. Within moments I've landed quietly in a crouch, my black robes hiding the sight of my completely white skin and golden adornments. He's still not looking in my direction, and with a grin I silently rise to my bare feet, padding over as quietly as I can, until I'm right behind him and tap him on the shoulder.
The young man stiffens and whips around, startling when he sees me so very close. "Helel! You nearly scared me to
death
!" he fumes, balling up his fists. "And all to bring you your dinner!" That makes him stamp one of those sandals on the smooth stone, looking adorable and flustered. A flush heats up his cheeks. He's so beautiful when he's angry - I'd imagine that's why I make it a game to annoy him all the time.
"And what have you brought me to eat tonight, Daniel?" I muse, sauntering over to the basket and crouching next to it, nudging the cloth aside to look beneath it.
My handler gasps and marches over, scooping up the bundle possessively. "I'm supposed to bring this inside. You're
only
supposed to be fed in your quarters," he insists.
I roll my eyes and sigh, rising once more to my feet. "This again?"
Daniel looks torn but remains firm, walking down the broad stone steps that descend from the Temple of Solomon and lead into the city proper. Without much choice I follow along, pulling up beside him. He's frowning - clearly he's unhappy about this, too. "King Jehoiakim made it very clear - you are to take your meals in your quarters, keep yourself covered, and to stay within the city walls."
As we pass by other people preparing for nightfall, I notice the bitter looks I'm getting and the wide berth we're being granted. Even with my hood and robes, the citizens and their slaves know what I am, or have an inkling. We walk in silence back to the palace, and only once we're past the fine arched hallways, the hanging tapestries, the painted urns, and the potted plants that decorate the wing leading to the treasury (where my room happens to be near), do I pull back my hood in annoyance. My ruby eyes are narrowed beneath strong black eyebrows, my beautiful androgynous features framed by my black, wavy locks that I wear long in spite of the king's commands to keep them short. Daniel stands as tall as I do, though he isn't as slender as I am.
No human ever is.
The robe is taken off and cast onto my bed, revealing the clothing I truly wear - a wrap skirt in black silk and anklets, bracelets, and a collar, all made of heavy gold and all locked into place with keys that the king keeps around his neck at all times. These weighty adornments are my bondage, allowing me access to my true shape, but always at the command of the key holder. I rub at the spot on my left wrist that chafes from the cuff, and I look out my window upon the metropolis below as it prepares for nightfall.
Daniel sets the basket down on a table by the door, then moves over to the bed to take up my robe and neatly fold it. "The king is still upset about Pharoah Necho the Second's theft and execution of his brother Shallum five years ago. He believes you to be loyal to Egypt."
"He forgets that Egypt sent me here to protect his forebear Hezekiah from the Assyrian Sennecherib. If not for me, king Jehoiakim would have a pile of ashes to rule." The frustration in my voice is thick, and I clear my throat to work the tension from it. "This isn't your fault, Daniel. I'm sorry if I snarl at you - you've only ever treated me with kindness and respect."
The young man comes to stand next to me, looking out at the city as the rays of the setting sun bathe it in gold. Fitting, given how much wealth is stored here. I feel his hand caress along my arm, his slender fingers sliding over the wrist cuff, embossed with hieroglyphics. His fingers lace with mine, and I look at him from the corners of my ruby eyes. "They will think ill of you if you keep doing this," I caution him with a whisper, but he only smiles at me, taking one step back, then two, towards my bed, leading me there with him.
"And why should that be?" he asks airily, taking a seat on the mattress and drawing me up slowly to straddle his lap. "Because I spend too much time with you?" My hands come to rest on his shoulders, slowly pushing the folds of his robe away to reveal the slender body beneath it. His touch moves to the tie at my hip and pulls, the knot coming looser and looser until the fabric falls away. He has never cared that I am not built like a man or a woman. There is nothing on my groin but smooth, featureless flesh where a human man's or woman's genitals would be.
My hands move to cup his warm cheeks, and I look down into his dark brown eyes. "There is spending time with me, and then there's
