Bastet chewed a tiger nut ball slowly while dabbing kohl around her round eye. She moved the mirror over her snout and did the left eye too.

Satisfied with the results, she looked out the window. With the papyrus slightly raised, she could see crocodile people already rushing past paying no heed to the shop’s sign: “Best Cat Embalmer”. Good, she’d opened, but was in no mood for clients. It was too hot.

Just then, a crocodile man opened the door and peered into the darkness of the shop, letting all the Crocodopolis dust and mosquitoes in.

“The door, please,” Bastet groaned from behind the counter.

“Apologies,” he said and closed the door. He had a scarred snout and wore a kilt made of rough linen. He had no necklace around his neck, nor other jewelry on his body.

“Greetings and peace be with you,” he said and dumped a linen sack on the table.

“Miaow,” the sack said and wriggled.

“In peace,” Bastet said and pointed at a hieroglyph note in thick red ink: “DEAD CATS ONLY!”.

“Ah,” he said and turned to leave. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Bastet grabbed his hand and pointed at a second note to her left: “NATURAL CAUSES ONLY”.

“Ah, right.” He scratched his snout and looked out the window.

They stayed like this for a while. Bastet on her stool, her round eyes half-closed, her snout slightly open, staring at the man, and him staring out the window.

Bastet cared very little for customs of politeness but waiting in stillness and silence for the other croc to move or say something was one custom she respected, if only because she couldn’t be bothered to move or speak.

“Well, I’m natural enough. No fake tooth on me”, he finally said and opened his snout, showing two rows of yellow fangs, mostly there and mostly intact.

Bastet closed her eyes. No point in talking to this one.

“Temperance, we have a difficult one”, she shouted toward the back of the shop. The crocodile man, mouth still opened, stared at Bastet.

A mechanical woman ran clink clanking from behind the curtain with a raised stick in her bony metal fingers. “Yheee...”

“Hey, hold on. I was going to pay you, I swear,” the crocodile man said and raised the cloth sack in front of him.

“Don’t hurt the cat,“ said Bastet.

“It’s the man I’m after,” said the mechanical woman, and swiped her stick at the croc. He took a step back. The sack wriggled.

“I don’t care about the man,” said Bastet.

“But you called me,” said the woman.

“Because of the cat.”

“What cat,” asked the windup woman and swiped at the man again, hitting his hand.

“Ouch,” the man said and dropped the sack. A cat fell out of it and croaked.

“That cat,” said Bastet.

*

Once the crocodile man had left, a growling cat in his arms, Temperance sat on a stool and Bastet took another sweet out to chew. She hoped she’d have time for a long break before the next client.

No such luck.

“Ziiing!” A shimmering scroll appeared out of nowhere and floated before her eyes. Sobek, the crocodile god...

She hated the sound as much as she hated Sobek. She’d begged him many times to change it, especially after completing important quests for him, but for all his promises he never did change it. He enjoyed annoying her, she was sure.

The scroll unrolled to reveal a string of hieroglyphs. While the sound was the same, the signature was different from the last time she saw it, some months back. Underneath

Stolen story; please report.

‘Incoming celestial bid...

Accept Yes/No’

There was a new signature: ‘Sebek-Ra, protector of the Pharaoh and the people.

No more the ‘The most powerful Deity of the Two Lands‘? How times change.

She pressed No. Thank you very much, she’s done enough for him over the years. And what did it get her? The lousy shop for embalming cats she’d opened with her own bartering and skills. True, she did get to level up in embalming with Sobek’s quests, but that was her sweat too. The riches that Sobek promised never quite materialized.

And what did she want with her anyway? It’s not like there was a shortage of dumb subjects to work for the Crocodile God.

“Is something the matter,” asked Temperance, looking from Bastet to the air in front of her and back at her.

The scroll rolled back on itself with a screech. Bastet bared her teeth at the sound. “Nothing.” Temperance didn’t need to know.

The scroll then rolled out again. Zing! It had a new text on:

“Do you want to go on an exciting quest and improve your skills?

Yes, tell me how.

No, I like my boring life and being a loser.”

Bastet waved her hand at No and then covered her ears quickly. To no avail. Screech! The scrolled rolled in again.

And then… it rolled out again. Zing! “Give me ten heartbeats and I’ll dazzle you with a proposal you can’t refuse. Yes, No.” A hand wave, ears pinched, screech! Scroll rolled in.

And then out again. This time with a pictogram of a crying baby crocodile:

“Why would you ignore Us?

I don’t understand...why would you do that? Give Us a shout!

Yes, No”

Wave, pinch, screech!

Temperance left her stool and came closer to Bastet, stopping just next to her.

The scroll unrolled again.

“Want God’s mercy?

Yes, I want your mercy and blessing, Lord of Terror, Carnelian-eyed, Lifeblood of the people.

No, strike me dead and block my passage to the Underworld, may I be damned forever.”

Bastet rose her hand to wave at No, then stopped. Anger spread from her head to the tip of her fingers. She barred her teeth and roared. The scroll remained open.

Temperance poked her finger in the air in front of Bastet.

“Leave it,” Bastet hissed.

“What is it, “ asked Temperance.

“It’s Sobek.”

“Is it gone? What did it say,” asked Temperance, her eyes darting from Bastet to the space in front of her.

The scroll stood there, three palms in front of her eyes. Bastet remained silent. Either the scroll would disappear, or she’d wrinkle up and die. Eventually. She was willing to wait. Did Sobek have enough energy to keep the scroll open until then?

Suddenly there was a brief knock on the door and then someone entered. Bastet tilted her head to see who it was, but the scroll moved with her head, blocking her vision.

“Is there a plague in town,” asked Temperance. “Peace be with you,” she added, a bit late.

“In peace,” said the man. “No, no, it’s just a habit. I’m new to town and not familiar with the Crocodopolis’ germs... I hope you don’t mind.”

Bastet tilted her head quickly left and right, but the scroll kept up with her so she gave up trying to see the man’s face. From underneath the scroll, she saw the man was wearing a black leather tunic and gloves. He smelled sweet and fleshy, the smell of rotten fruits in the summer breeze. A human. Bastet recoiled and shut her snout.

From what Temperance had said, she presumed he was wearing a Doctor’s mask too, one of those worn during human plagues, a leather beak over the human’s stumpy nose and goggles over their flat eyes. She couldn’t see anything though through the scroll.

“Peace be with you,” Bastet said, “Do you have a cat to embalm?”

“No, no… I have a proposition…”

Another one... What was it today? “If Sobek has sent you...” she started but stopped herself. Sobek would never talk to these lesser beings.

“Sobek? I only wish, my lady. I haven’t been fortunate to meet his Godhead so far.”

Nor you ever. “My misunderstanding, sir. What brings you here, if you please?”

“A proposition.”

“So you said.”

Bastet hoped she was looking directly at him. In any case, weren’t some of these lesser beings cross-eyed? The stranger was welcome to believe crocodile people were too.

“I should introduce myself first. My name is Lord Tuttingham, Charles Tuttingham, the Marquess of Fork, England.”

So, one of them. Bastet didn’t know they were into embalming their cats too.

“Yes...”

“Right. So, I’d like to invite you to London to open its first All-Inclusive Embalming shop!” The man bowed and Bastet saw the man’s curved leathery beak, he was indeed wearing a Doctor’s mask.

“Do the Englishmen find themselves in great need of embalming,” said Bastet and snorted. It was so like them to imagine they could also have an afterlife.

“Yes, as it were... many people would be interested, for themselves and yes, even their pets. Even the Queen has expressed/“

“No.”

“But I’ll make it worth your time... you don’t have to stay long in London, I understand it’s not the best weather for crocodile people/“

Bastet snorted again. That was an understatement. The weather was miserable, but the smog was something else.

“...but if you just train a few people then they can run the shop and you’re free to return/“

“Free? I’m free already.”

“Apologies, I’m not expressing myself clearly.”

“Get someone else. Plenty of other crocodiles will jump at the chance.” Maybe... there must be some who were stupid enough. Or who would want an ‘adventure’.

“But you’re the best!”

“At cats. And it’s just self-praise, I’m afraid.”

“Listen, sir, “ said Temperance and raised herself from her chair. “My mistress said No. Do you get No?”

“Yes, yes... but if you allow me, I’ll put it in writing and send it across later, so you have a chance to/“

“So you don’t get No.” Temperance jumped the counter and faced him, stick raised above her head.

“All right, all right,” the man said and walked backward, bowing.

When the door shut behind him, Bastet closed her eyes and savoured a moment of peace.

When she opened her eyes, the scroll had expanded and surrounded her and the “Yes” was so big, it filled her vision.

Sobek was nothing if not stubborn. But so was Bastet.