CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Most Precious of Artifacts

I HAD GOTTEN TO THE TEMPLE before the appointed time in order to avoid a surprise ambush. Consequently, I spent a long hour waiting among the colonnades in Hypostyle Hall. I tried to distract myself by watching the faint eddies of air shimmering around the columns, trying to see if any of the glyphs or symbols would be visible enough to recognize, but they weren't.

When I looked at my watch for the twenty-seventh time, it was five minutes to three o'clock. Close enough. A shot of adrenaline spurted through me, coupled with relief that I could finally get moving. I surged to my feet, gripped the basket, and began weaving through the columns toward the offering room.

I walked as quietly as I could, not only to avoid waking any sleeping gods or other creatures of power, but to see if I could detect anyone following me. I had seen no sign of the wedjadeen at all yet, but surely they had to be nearby?

The inner rooms of the chapel were much smaller than the great courtyards and hallways. The floor rose up and the ceiling sloped downward, making me feel as if I was walking through a long shaft. I did not like meeting in here. It was too close, with no way out. In essence, I would be trapped, with the wedjadeen between me and escape.

But I was giving them the tablet, so there shouldn't be any need to escape, I reminded myself.

I entered the offering chamber and, for a moment, allowed the thrill of being inside an ancient temple's holy of holies wash over me. To think of all the rituals that had once taken place here! Gods placated, prayers answered, souls weighed. The walls were covered with fascinating reliefs and images that I longed to examine, but now was not the time. Instead, I set the basket down on the floor, carefully removed the wrapped tablet, and carried it to the altar. Balancing the heavy tablet in one hand, I unwrapped the layers of linen so the wedjadeen would recognize the green stone as soon as they arrived.

As I laid the precious artifact on the altar, a boot scraped on the stone floor behind me. I whipped my head around. Half a dozen wedjadeen stood in the doorway. I recognized Khalfani and two others from our previous meeting, but the rest were new to me, except for the little priest. I was surprisingly happy to see him again.

They all stared at the Emerald Tablet on the altar.

"She has returned the tablet," Baruti, the priest, said. "She spoke the truth."

Khalfani turned his gaze to me. "But not the entire truth, I think."

"What do you mean?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

He took another step into the room. "You have in your possession another treasure we hold dear, dearer even than this tablet."

"I already gave you the Orb of Ra."

"Do not play games with us!"

"Honestly, I'm not! I don't know what you are talking about."

A look of uncertainty appeared on his face, then quickly passed. He took two giant strides into the room, eating up the space between us. He loomed over me. "Do not toy with me."

"I'm not. This is the only thing I have left to give you. I promise. The orb and the tablet. That was all."

"You lie! We have seen this treasure with our own eyes."

"You've been following me?" I asked.

He looked just the tiniest bit sheepish, and then the look vanished. "We were right to do so, it seems, for that is how we learned of this other treasure you possess."

"What treasure?" I asked, so frustrated I wanted to scream.

One of the men behind Khalfani pulled a long, thin knife from the sheath at his waist. "You would hide from us that which we seek. We have killed for less than that."

So much for Awi Bubu's assurances that they would treat a young girl gently. "Look," I said, unable to tear my eyes away from the point of the knife. "I have brought the Emerald Tablet in good faith. I don't know what else you are talking about."

Just then there was a rustle of sound. A small, quick figure jumped into the room and threw himself in front of me.

I blinked at Gadji in surprise. "I told you not to follow me!"

He grinned. "And I am telling you, you be needing my help."

As Gadji spoke, the wedjadeen did the most extraordinary thing. One by one, they bowed low before him.

"Young miss did bring us our treasure," Khalfani said when he rose to his feet. "She has not broken the trust between us."

"Him?" I asked. "He is your treasure? An orphaned donkey boy fresh off the streets of Cairo?"

"Me?" Gadji asked, the look on his face an odd mixture of suspicion and pleasure.

Khalfani shook his head. "He is no donkey boy. This child is descended from the most highly treasured bloodline in our history. This donkey boy, as you call him, is the last pharaoh of Egypt."