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often tell you things?”
    “No, not often. At least, not yet… ”
    “A friend of mine at the temple needs healing. Can you help him?”
    I knew there was more to the priest’s inquiry than he let on.
    “Do you really want me to help him,” I asked, “or do you and other priests want to test my healing powers?”
    Menna was taken aback by my question.
    “We want both,” he said. “There are some who question whether a young girl like you could possess such ability.”
    “Would they test Isis?” I asked in a tone that left no doubt my question was a reprimand. As soon as the words crossed my lips I wished I hadn’t spoken them.
    Why am I so arrogant? I thought. Isis was with me when I healed my cousin, but will she be with me if I try to heal this man’s friend? If I try and fail, all will doubt and ridicule me. Isis, what should I do?
    Isis didn’t respond, at least not with words, but a man needed my help and I knew in my heart that I had to at least try to heal again.
    “With my mother’ permission, I’ll go with you to your friend,” I said.
    Mother didn’t hesitate. “You have my permission.”
    Menna and I immediately set out on the path for the Temple of Ptah, exchanging not a word as he led the way several paces in front of me. When we reached the temple, we passed through the massive main gate, crossed the courtyard and entered the columned passageway. I had first trod this path years before, on the day when I met the Sem Priest and told him of my visit to the realm of the Neters. This time, priests stopped to stare at me, no doubt wondering whether a girl so young could possess powers greater than their own.
    My short journey ended at a healing alcove adjacent to a room not far from the temple’s sanctuary. Sunlight poured through windows high above me, illuminating healing spells carved into the sandstone walls. In the middle of the alcove was a waist-high granite block slightly longer and wider than a human. A statue of Horus as a child rested in a stone basin on an altar nearby.
    “Wait here,” Menna said.
    Soon, he returned with another young priest, leading him by the hand.
    “This is Siptah,” he said. “Tuya stands before you.”
    “Can you heal me?” Siptah asked, his eyes directed not at mine, but at the wall behind me.
    “What happened?” I inquired.
    “While traveling in Nubia not long ago I came across a cobra. I walked around it thinking I would be safe, but the serpent was of the spitting kind, unknown to those of us from the north. The venom from the snake traveled twice the length of a man and hit me in the eyes. I’ve been blind from that day since.”
    “Have you seen a physician?”
    “Yes. He applied the liver of oxen to my eyes. He told me he had helped others with this cure, but it didn’t help me. His prayers and spells were worthless, too.”
    “The liver of oxen,” I scoffed. “This remedy can help heal abrasions of the eyes from a sandstorm, but it’s a useless treatment for an injury such as yours,” I declared, not knowing where my knowledge was coming from. “Why do you think I can help you?”
    “I heard of how you brought your cousin back to life.”
    “Many say I did nothing of the sort.”
    “Some here at the temple doubt your power, but the Sem Priest said he had met you years ago and knew then the gods would someday work through you.”
    “It is because of the Sem Priest,” I said, “that I now am able to read and write, and am as learned about the gods and goddesses as you and other priests.”
    “Do you think you can restore my sight?” Siptah asked.
    The questioned frightened me. I had no idea whether I could heal this man. A part of me wanted to run from the temple and hide in my room, but instead I inquired, “Are you willing to be healed?”
    “Of course I’m willing.”
    “Then I will try. Lie down on the stone block,” I said, as if I knew what I was doing. Menna guided Siptah into place.
    What should I do next? I