What Talon And What Dreadful Claw

I wrote this in response to this prompt. This is both the longest short story I've ever written, and my first attempt at a romance, so that's exciting.

She’d watched him walking over the horizon for almost six hours now. She loved getting guests - loved seeing the resignation of men half dead with thirst, trading certain death in the sands for possible death near her waters.

And they were hers. The promise of Ramses still stood, even if it had been a millennium since the concord. By rite of blood and writ of paper she was the queen of the deeper duat. And it was a queen’s privilege to choose her guests. And, occasionally, kill them with her claws.

A massive thanks to Ivan Alexander for recording this piece! If you’re interested in hearing it read aloud, click here. He has an incredible voice.

And more thanks to the Feathered Voices channel! I am very proud to be the first piece they narrated.