Read an Excerpt

The sun was about to rise, leaving the Village in a pool of pre-dawn shadow. While much of the Village still slept, I was already awake. My name is Nefertiti (Nefi). I am the granddaughter of the Abyssinian Queen, Cleopatra (Cleo), who had saved us all from the monster Red Eye twenty years earlier.

I was making my customary walk through the Village, greeting friends and neighbors as they began another normal day. It was simply how I chose to begin my morning. The Village had known peace for twenty years, and I treasured that peace before the day's work began. Familiar smiles, friendly greetings, and the comfort of seeing another sunrise reminded me that the sacrifices recorded in my grandmother's journals had not been made in vain.

I finished my walk and made my way to the edge of the Village where Cleo's old warehouse stood. Age had weathered the once-busy building, but it remained one of the most solid structures in the Village. The young villagers considered it little more than a storehouse filled with forgotten history, and no longer visited it unless they were called. To me, however, it had always been special. It was where I had spent countless hours beside my grandmother, listening to stories, studying sketches, and learning about the world that had existed before I was born.

I slipped through the familiar opening in the rusted siding and climbed to the narrow catwalk high above the warehouse floor. It had always been my favorite place. Years earlier it had been Cleo's. From there, she had spread maps across the worktable, refined drawings, and recorded observations that eventually filled shelf after shelf. Even now, I could imagine my grandmother sitting there, completely absorbed in her work with the morning light filling the warehouse.

I remained seated with my tail wrapped around my paws, looking across the familiar room. It was all in perfect order. Stillness surrounded me, broken only by the occasional creak of the old timbers settling with age. I had visited this place hundreds of times since Cleo's passing, and it always brought a sense of comfort.

I glanced at the hiding place tucked behind one of the rafters. It was where Cleo had left a wooden box years ago. I had opened it many times before and it was inseparable from Cleo's memory.

I crossed the catwalk, nudged a weathered wooden panel aside, and eased the familiar box out onto the planks before me. I expected to find exactly what I had seen countless times before. I opened the lid. Nothing had changed. Journals rested under folded maps. Sketches remained exactly where I had last placed them. Beside them lay the worn leather collar with the gold Ankh lying next to it. It was as my grandmother had left it for me.

Only I was different. Many times, I had looked inside this box and seen treasured keepsakes belonging to the grandmother I loved. The journals had been wonderful stories, the maps fascinating drawings, and the Ankh a cherished reminder of the cat who had saved the Village.

This morning, I saw them differently. What if the journals were more than stories to entertain young ones? What if the maps were not just illustrations, but working documents created by someone who expected others to continue where she had left off?

I reached into the box and hooked my claw under the old leather collar. The Ankh rested against my paw. There was nothing mysterious about it. It was an ancient symbol that had belonged to Cleo as a gift from her master as the stories told it.

I looked at it for a while before smiling. "I suppose..." I whispered to myself, "it's finally time to do as grandmother asked." I slipped the collar over my head and settled the Ankh comfortably against my chest. It was a little strange, but wearing it seemed like a decision I had been delaying. Cleo had told me many times that I would know when to make it mine.

Palace of Stone and Glass releases November 10, 2026. Subscribe to the newsletter to be the first to know.