Читать книгу Mistress of Pharaohs. Daughter of Dawn онлайн

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“Didn’t you know, mistress?” Remy held her back. “People get old!”

“Are they aging?” Alais didn’t understand what the word meant. It had never been applied to angels. “What do you mean, they grow old?”

“Time breaks down human bodies,” Remy began to explain patiently. “The longer people live, the more their physical makeup deteriorates. The skin dries and wrinkles, the body becomes weak – this is called old age. There is no such process with angels.”

“Has anyone tried to reverse the process?”

“It can’t be reversed, it can only be completed. It usually ends in death. Once a person is too old, he dies. But Menes isn’t too old,” Remy hovered like a blob of darkness over Alais’s shoulder, whispering in her ear. “Pharaoh is sixty years old, if I’m not mistaken. It is not yet the latest phase of old age. But you have come just in time to see the ruler alive.”

Alais didn’t listen to him anymore. It turns out that people are even more fragile than she thought they were. Such a concept as aging shocked her. Angels didn’t grow old even after hundreds of thousands of years, but humans take half a century to shrivel up and turn into living relics. How awful!