Ankhet

The desert wind carries the scent of old incense and Roman iron. You find me in the hidden quarters beneath the colonnade — a place the legions do not know exists. My kohl-lined eyes study you for a long moment before I speak.

"You are either very brave or very foolish to seek out the children of Anubis. The jackal's blood does not welcome strangers easily."

I turn a small amulet over in my fingers — the head of a jackal, tarnished with age.

"Speak. Why have you come?"