CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Another Deception or Two

I WOKE FAR TOO EARLY. I dreaded what I had to do and knew Mother would give me one of those looks I was beginning to fear. I'd slept so poorly that I had the beginnings of a headache. The only advantage was that when Mother came in to collect me, I looked pale and drawn.

"Good morning, darling," Mother trilled as she bustled into the room with a swish of skirts and lilac scent. She seemed cheerful enough, which meant she had most likely forgotten about my bringing up Grandfather at dinner last night. That was one hurdle behind me. "Morning, Mother," I mumbled back.

She stopped pulling my clothes from the drawer and hurried to the bed. "Oh, Theo! Not again." She laid her cool hand on my forehead. "You're not feverish."

"No, but I have a beastly headache and my stomach hurts." Neither of which was a lie. My stomach was packed full of nerves and dread, so of course it hurt. "I never dreamed it would take so long to get used to the hot sun," I said, trying to push her thoughts in the direction that would bear the most fruit.

"Oh dear, we were out there a rather long time. I wish you would have said something, darling."

"I felt fine at the time, only a trifle warm."

"Well, I suppose another day of rest won't harm anything. Besides, what is there possibly left to find?" she asked with a laugh.

"Aren't you going to see Mr. Weigall this morning about permission to excavate there?"

She turned away from me and busied herself straightening the clothes I'd forgotten to put away last night. "I thought we'd wait until we were absolutely sure. I'd love to have something solid to present to him that would prove it wasn't merely an extension of Hatshepsut's temple, but an entirely separate one."

"That makes sense," I said, secretly glad. If she was to be at Deir el-Bahri all day, there was even less of a chance of my absence being discovered.

"I'll send Habiba in with some peppermint tea and dry toast. Between that and a little more rest, I'm sure you'll be good as new by tomorrow." She came over and planted a kiss on my forehead, then cupped my face in her hands. "I am so very proud of you, Theo. You really have an amazing calling as an archaeologist, my dear." Then she took her leave and I was left alone, staring at the ceiling.

For some reason, the words of praise I'd so longed to hear made me feel like crying, and I had no idea why. Sensing my distress, Isis hopped up from under the bed, where she'd disappeared when Mother had first entered the room, and began licking the tears from my face. I have found it is surprisingly difficult to remain sad when a cat is doing its level best to sandpaper one's cheeks. I sighed and petted Isis's soft black fur. "Hopefully, this will be the last time I have to lie to her," I whispered. Isis stopped licking and began purring, her paws finding their way into the crook of my neck and kneading at my hair.

We stayed like that until the door burst open and Habiba appeared, carrying a tray. She nearly shrieked when she saw the cat next to me and said something in rapid, indecipherable Arabic. Not liking her tone one bit, Isis leaped from the bed, shot over to the window, and hopped outside.

I glared at Habiba, and she glared back at me over her dark veil. Still muttering, she set the tray down with a thud, then turned and left the room. I gave a passing wish for the Babel brick, curious to know what she was saying, but I hadn't thought to keep it near me while I slept.

When she was gone, I swung my legs out of bed, grabbed the tea tray, and inhaled the toast. The truth was, I was starving. All the hard work in the field yesterday had made me rather hungry.

Once I'd eaten my breakfast, there was nothing to do but wait. And wait. And wait. We had set up the meeting time for late afternoon again, when most tourists would be out of the heat of the day. Meantime, there was little I could do. I didn't dare get dressed yet, in case Habiba came back. So instead, I lay in bed and let myself daydream of all the things I would do once I had finished my business with the wedjadeen. First, I would try to talk Mother into taking me to the temple where I was born. I was keen to see it for myself. I also wanted to start asking some questions about Grandfather Throckmorton. Jadwiga, at least, had reacted last night when I mentioned him—I was sure of it.

And why hadn't Wigmere said anything? What was it with grownups and their beastly secrets!

In the end, I fell asleep. When I woke up again, a quick glance at Quillings's watch told me that it was almost time to leave. Just as I threw off the covers and swung my feet out of bed, Isis arched her back and hissed at the door. Someone was coming! I hurriedly pulled my feet back under the covers and lay down.

I felt rather than heard the door open a crack. Even with my eyes closed, I could sense someone watching me. I forced my mind to go blank, as it would if I were truly asleep, and concentrated on slow, deep breaths. After a harrowing, long moment, there was a faint snick as the door closed. Seconds later, I heard the sound of another door closing. I hopped out of bed and ran to the window. Habiba was hurrying down the road carrying a shopping basket.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Of course. She simply wanted to check in on me before she went shopping. And what perfect timing!

After I was dressed, I gingerly took Quillings's fountain pen and compact from my drawer and slipped them into my pocket. As much as I loathed the idea of them, I was enough of a realist to know that without backup, I needed some sort of plan B.

I left the dresser and went to my bed, where I quickly set up the decoy under my covers. Once that was out of the way, I turned to Isis's carrying case, then paused, overcome by a desire to see the tablet one last time. After this, it would disappear forever and I would never see it again.

I retrieved the sacred object, set it on the floor, and slowly unwrapped it, revealing the dull green stone of unpolished emerald. I stared at the figures carved in its surface: the falcon-headed Horus, the ibis-headed Thoth, the Chaldean glyphs. Even though there was no moonlight in which to see the even stranger glyphs hidden in the emerald itself, I could feel them buzzing lazily against my gloved hands—not trying to burrow their way into my skin like a curse would have, but more like a cat, bumping up against a person's leg in lazy affection.

I realized that as thrilled as I was to get this off my hands, I was also filled with regret that I would never discover its secrets. That realization gave me pause. Surely I shouldn't pine after something as dangerous and forbidden as the tablet. Nervous that perhaps the magic was having some influence over me, I quickly rewrapped the object and placed it in the false bottom of the wicker carrying case. Everyone had gotten quite used to my carrying Isis around. Seeing me with the basket now should raise no questions.

It did, however, mean I would need to ride a donkey to the temple, as the basket weighted down with the tablet was far too awkward and heavy to carry for long. With any luck, Gadji would be out looking for his family again and I could sneak out unnoticed.

My luck failed, and I hoped it wasn't going to be an omen. Gadji was in the stable, lying in the straw and scowling at the ceiling. "Good afternoon," I said, startling him. He jumped to his feet, his eyes going immediately to the carrying case.

"Where is effendi miss going?" he asked.

"On an errand. Could you please saddle up my donkey for me?" I loathed having to ask him, especially since he wasn't invited on the errand, but I didn't know how to do it myself.

"Effendi miss need Gadji to go with her?" His voice was full of hope and for a moment I was tempted. But it was too dangerous. I had no wish to drag anyone else into this tangle I'd found myself in.

"Not today," I said cheerfully. It was a trick I'd learned from Mother, delivering unwelcome news in the most jaunty tone possible.

He looked injured and hung his head dejectedly as he saddled the donkey.

"Have you had any more luck with your family?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No lucks. Old market is having new peoples in it. None of those peoples know mine."

No wonder he was so discouraged. "I'm sorry," I said. "But I want you to know you can stay here as long as you like."

He nodded. "It is right that you offer me this since I save your life. Miss is needing me to keep her safe," he said slyly.

"Just not today."

Once the donkey was saddled, I secured the basket on its back and made sure the straps were extra tight. Gadji silently offered to help me up onto the saddle, making me feel even worse for excluding him. "Look," I said, leaning down, "I do need you to do one thing for me."

His whole face brightened.

"If I am not back by dinnertime, I need you to go to the antikah man's house. Do you remember it?"

"Of course."

"Good. Go to that house and ask for Major Grindle and tell him that I haven't come back. He'll know what to do."

"Will he be knowing where effendi miss goes?"

He was a sharp one. "No, he won't. And if I tell you where I'm going, you need to promise not to follow. Can you do that?"

He nodded solemnly. "I promise to not follow you."

I checked to be sure his fingers weren't crossed. (Did Egyptians even know about that trick, I wondered?) "Very well. Tell him I went to the Luxor Temple."

Gadji nodded. "Yes, miss."

I slapped the reins. The donkey lurched forward and stumbled. Not the most auspicious beginning to my adventure, I thought.

***

It didn't take long before the temple came into view. Even from here, I could feel the great magic and power pulsing off the monument, like a giant heart beating. Only instead of pumping blood, it was pumping heka. But good heka, thank heavens.

Just before the temple, I slipped off the donkey, tied it up to a scrubby little palm tree, and hauled the basket from behind the saddle.

It seemed to have grown heavier during the ride.

As I walked down the row of sphinxes, the air stirred faintly, pale shadows and flickers of hieroglyphs swarming on the statues' surfaces. I blinked to clear my eyes, and when I looked again, the symbols were gone. I wondered if I'd just seen my first mirage. Somehow, I didn't think so.

The sphinxes were intended as guardians, I reminded myself. So as long as I didn't mean the temple or the gods any harm, I would be fine.

I circled around the walls of the temple and approached from the northeast side, until I reached the colonnade between the Great Court of Ramses II and the Great Court of Amenhotep II. Once inside the cover of the columns and hidden from all-seeing eyes, I felt a bit easier.

Eager to get things over with, I made my way to the innermost part of the temple. Even in the broad daylight, the place was thick with powerful magic.

The Court of Amenhotep echoed eerily as I crossed its broad expanse. I had only to set the offering on the altar, wait until the wedjadeen found it, then leave as quickly as possible. Then it would all be over.

But if that was the case, why did I feel so melancholy?

I must have caught it from Jadwiga.