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On Friday night, Anne sat in the back of a large lecture hall in the Mena House listening to the first night of what the conference organizers were calling the Egypt Extravaganza. Their flyer claimed that all the important voices in the alternative field would be speaking. Anne recognized a few names from a reading list Thomas had given her. Academics didn’t seem to mix with this group, although there were some Ph.D.s—one in geology, another in physics. Michael was the only speaker who bridged the gap between the two worlds, with a degree in Egyptology from one of the best schools and a position at a prestigious museum side by side with his book, dubbed New Age by most, definitely not read by his traditional colleagues.
On this first night, each speaker had two minutes to give a synopsis of his or her presentation. Only a few remained. Paul Marchant was still talking after ten minutes, when the emcee walked up to him and said, “Thank you, Mr. Marchant. I’m sure everyone is anxious to hear your information. Next we have Joe Whyte, an engineer.” Marchant blinked like an owl at the man, then walked off stage.
Two women, Debbie and Rita, had plopped themselves on either side of Anne right as the program began and gave a running commentary on each speaker.
“I don’t know what to think of this next guy. His stuff makes sense, but everybody knows the Great Pyramid was a temple of initiation. He claims it was a power plant,” Debbie said.
“Really?” Anne said politely. Michael held Joe’s theories in high regard.
“Now this guy,” Debbie pointed to a name in the program, but held it too far away for Anne to see. “He traces the Illuminati all the way back to the Nibiruans.”
“The who?” Anne asked.
“You know,” Rita said, “the slave drivers of the planet Nibiru? The one that has the strange orbit between Mars and Jupiter? Who bioengineered the human race by splicing their DNA into early humans?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve never read Kramer, I see,” Debbie said. “Don’t worry. We’ll fill you in on what you’ve missed.”
“Anyway,” Rita said, “he claims the Illuminati are going to do a blood sacrifice in the Great Pyramid during an alignment in the next week.”
“Blood sacrifice?” Anne was beginning to feel like a parrot.
“They stay in power by sacrificial murder, don’t you know? They prey on the true bloodline. Like Princess Diana. She was part of the bloodline. Her car was tampered with and her driver drugged. But the important part is the date.”
Debbie said, “An important alignment. They’ve done these throughout history. Hitler did mass killings on certain important dates. And even in America, the murder of President Le Clair.”
Anne froze.
“They’re members of the bloodline, too. That was a ceremonial sacrifice,” Rita said.
Anne had registered in her married name, hoping for some anonymity. Clearly these women hadn’t recognized her face.
The emcee was now at the microphone thanking Joe Whyte. She’d missed everything he’d said.
“And now it is my great honor to introduce a man who has traced the roots of the Western metaphysical traditions to the ancient Egyptian mystery schools, Michael Levy.”
As Michael approached the microphone, Debbie whispered in her ear, “Isn’t he a hunk?”
“Quite attractive.” Anne was pleased she could find a point of agreement.
“I just read his book, but he doesn’t know all the connections between the Illuminati and international shadow government. He seems to think some of the organizations are still pure. The Masons are completely corrupt, have been from the start,” Debbie added.
Anne picked up her purse. “Can you excuse me? I’m afraid I have to go to the ladies’ room.” She left the room, then walked up the hall and stood outside an open doorway so she could listen to Michael without interruption.
“We can trace the Rosicrucians back to this same source, the Essenes. In Islam, the line runs through the Sufi mystics.” Michael’s eyes kept returning to Anne’s empty seat.
He should be more careful, she thought.
They still had two crystals to find and had agreed it was likely the Keepers of these keys would be drawn to Giza as the alignment neared. The three planned to keep their public contact with each other to a minimum while they investigated, hoping to draw the other Keepers out. Thomas had contacted her to confirm that Paul Marchant held a key. She’d been a bit surprised, but in retrospect it all made sense. They’d agreed she would try to make a connection with Marchant.
Anne stepped forward slightly so she was visible to the stage, but not the audience in the back. Michael’s eyes flickered toward the movement and his shoulders relaxed. “All these traditions had their birth in the Egyptian mystery schools.” He looked around for the emcee. “I think that is sufficient.”
The host walked forward, a bit surprised. “Short but promising, yes?” he said to the audience, and they burst into a short round of applause. Michael nodded in recognition, then took his seat in the speaker’s section in the first few rows.
“Next,” the emcee continued, “I’d like to welcome our special guests from Guatemala who will be explaining connections between the Egyptian pyramids and those of their ancestors, the Maya.”
Anne was curious about this group. There were three in all, two men and a woman. They all walked to the front, but to Anne’s surprise the woman stepped forward to speak. She was short and round, dressed in white with a brilliantly colored scarf wrapped around her head.
“Hello.” She stood on tiptoes to speak into the microphone.
A technician rushed out from behind the stage to adjust the stand for her.
“Thank you.” Her voice now rang through the room and she took a step back. “My name is Maria Lol Ha and I come from a small village in Guatemala. I am a healer and teacher there. Jose and Enrique are warrior priests from my village.”
The two men nodded gravely and Maria continued. “We are honored to visit this ancient land of Egypt. The Maya have existed much longer than the anthropologists believe. In our legends, when the Maya first came to this planet, we went to four sections of the Earth. Egypt was one of them.”
There was a murmur in the crowd.
“In my talk, I will explain the connection between ancient Egypt and Maya peoples.” She paused, then leaned forward again. “Thank you.”
The emcee walked up to the mike. “Thank you again,” he said as the three Mayans left the stage, the two men flanking Maria. “The schedule for the conference is in your brochures, but generally, we’ll be going to sites in the mornings, have lunch near the site, then lectures in the afternoons or evenings. Tomorrow we’ll tour Sakkara and the Step Pyramid with our guide, Tahir. This man is well versed in the ancient spiritual traditions. I’m sure he’ll amaze you.”
Yes, he will, Anne thought. She spotted a white turban in the front, as Tahir stood. He raised his hand to greet the audience, then sat down again.
The emcee continued, “Now we’re all in for a treat. We’re adjourning just down the hall for our opening party. You can talk personally with the speakers you’ve just met. We’ve got an open bar, Middle Eastern treats, plus a local group will be playing and . . .” he paused dramatically, “there will be belly-dancing lessons for the ladies.”
“No guys?” someone shouted.
The host stuck his mouth closer to the mike and shouted, “Oh, and the gentlemen, too,” but his words were lost in the noise of scraping chairs and rising voices.
Anne stepped back from the side door and made her way through the crowd toward the party to seek out Marchant. When she arrived, the room was already stuffed with people, half milling around the buffet tables and lined up at the bar. The other half had surrounded the celebrities.
She spotted Michael toward the back of the room surrounded mostly by women, Debbie and Rita among them. Rita seemed to be holding forth, but Anne knew Debbie would jump in as soon as her other half took a breath. At least she’d be free of them for a while. Anne bought a bottle of sparkling water from the bar and strolled around the room, casually joining the group around Marchant.
“Do you really think your work will stop the pole shift?” This question came from a blond dressed in a belly-dancing outfit.
Marchant seemed oblivious to this display of flesh. “That’s exactly right, but my work must be funded quickly. Otherwise the Schumann frequencies will rise too high to make a correction.”
“What happens then?” A brunette with silver at the temples leaned forward, her dress revealing cleavage.
Marchant turned slightly toward her, then focused on some point close to the ceiling and started to talk. “This flip will happen quickly for a geological event, perhaps even in a couple of days. Such a rapid shift will create enormous winds well beyond hurricane velocity that will destroy forests and towns. The Earth’s tectonic plates will be crushed together in some areas and pulled apart in others. The earthquakes will be devastating.”
Anne surveyed his audience. Almost everyone in the crowd was wide-eyed with a sort of gleeful horror.
Marchant continued, “The face of the continents will change, not just from the quakes, but from the tsunamis. The tidal waves will be unprecedented. These quakes will be off the Richter scale. The Earth as we know it will be gone, most of humanity wiped out.”
“I know a bit about grants. I might be able to help you put together a few prospects,” a young man in the group offered.
Suddenly, Anne felt a tingling in the small of her back. Every morning she put up a shield of protection just as Grandmother Elizabeth had directed and asked for a signal if any psychic attack was directed her way. Pretending to move so she could hear Marchant better, she walked to the other side of the group and surveyed the crowd that was now in front of her. There were the Mayans, smiling at the group around them, patiently answering questions. She looked back up the right side of the room and found a man staring at her, his dark eyes slits of pure malice.
He saw that she had noticed him. “Illuminati,” he mouthed silently.
Anne shuddered. “You must be cold,” Marchant said.
Anne jumped, surprised to have attracted his attention. “Yes, I left my shawl in my room. The nights in the north are so much cooler.”
“So you did go to the south,” he said. “I looked all over for you.”
This earned her haughty stares from the blond and brunette.
“I’m afraid I must apologize for missing our appointment,” she began. “But perhaps we could meet to discuss your project.”
“Oh?” Marchant blinked.
“I believe we share some mutual interests.”
He stared at her for a long minute.
“I’d like to join that meeting,” the young man said. “About those grants—”
Marchant ignored him. “I think you’re right,” he said to Anne.
“We’ll be in touch then.” She nodded to the group, turned, and walked out of the room.
☥☥☥
The next morning, the group toured Sakkara. Once they were out of the buses and the camel jockeys chased away, Tahir arranged the group in a circle outside the door of the complex. “Please, take hands. We can have two circles, there are so many.”
Anne looked around for Marchant, but he was nowhere to be found. Apparently, he was skipping the morning tours.
“I’ll chant in the ancient language still taught by my people.” Tahir’s voice carried through the crowd. “The meditation will bring us into harmony with this place. Then walk in silence through the columns and we’ll gather on the other side.”
Someone took Anne’s hand. “This is exciting.” She recognized Debbie’s voice. “This is one place I don’t remember.”
“I do.” Rita stepped into the circle next to Debbie. “It wasn’t the Nefertiti life, though.”
“Really?”
“No, I think I was a healer priest.”
“Tahir is ready to begin,” Anne whispered.
The two quieted down and Tahir began his chant. Anne felt the complex open to them and, as soon as he’d finished, she turned and walked through the series of columns. There were no visions, only a deep sense of calm. She could hear Debbie whispering to Rita behind her. They followed her everywhere, through the courtyard as Tahir explained how the cobras at the tops of the columns had formed an energy field over the site, even into the healing niches as he explained how the patients were diagnosed and healed through sound.
Anne couldn’t concentrate with all the chattering, but she had to admit they were entertaining. Debbie, as it turned out, was convinced she’d been Nefertiti and Rita had been her mother-in-law, Tiye, during the reign of Akhenaten. It was interesting that Akhenaten had such a following. She could hardly scorn their beliefs. Hadn’t she remembered two past lives in Egypt herself?
Michael seemed to have shaken his female fan club and had taken his usual place at Tahir’s side. While the others went in to meditate in the chamber of the three niches where negative and positive energies were harmonized into wholeness, Tahir took Michael over to one of the roped-off tunnel openings and began to tell him an animated story. Anne tried not to resent her self-appointed guardians. They helped her cover. Besides, Michael would relay Tahir’s story to her later.
After everyone had gone into the chamber, Tahir took the group off to a mound on the north side of the Step Pyramid and here did his meditation. Apparently, this was the real Holy of Holies. Again Anne saw nothing and her crystal lay quiet against her heart, but later on the bus ride to their lunch place, Anne overheard a couple talking quietly to each other.
“It was all water,” the woman said, “little islands surrounded by water. I came to be healed and afterward took a boat to this very mound where I made my offering.”
“Yes,” the man added, “and I saw the whole healing complex when it was still operating. It was so beautiful, with statues of the Egyptian gods all lined up.”
Back at the hotel, Rita and Debbie invited her to a special channeling session, but she begged off. The evening was taken up with a lecture by Joe Whyte, who explained in the careful detail of a skilled engineer exactly how the pyramid had functioned as a power plant. Her skepticism about Whyte’s ideas gradually waned as he laid out his case, explaining how the structure was built to resonate in harmony with Earth’s natural energy field, how that energy was stepped up through Helmholtz resonators. The pyramid produced hydrogen gas and microwaves, serving as both a source of energy and a communication device. His argument that advanced machining techniques had been used to create many of Egypt’s artifacts seemed indisputable.
It was quite late when he finished, and Anne wandered back to her room, vaguely aware that Bob was following at a distance. The message button on her phone was lit, so Anne buzzed the front desk. The message was from Paul Marchant inviting her to join him the next night for dinner. She left a message for him that she’d meet him around seven.
Then she called Michael. “I’m invited to dinner.”
“That’s good progress.”
“How about you?”
“I’m afraid I have to do museum business tomorrow night. One of our patrons has invited me to his home. But I can’t let Mr. Marchant be the only man to wine and dine you in Cairo. May I have the pleasure of your company Monday night?”
“But we can’t be seen together.”
“It’s a big city, my dear.”
“I’d be delighted.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you Monday night then. Good luck on your date.”
“It’s a business meeting. By the way, what were you and Tahir talking about this morning?”
“Oh, what a story. Best told over dinner.”
“No fair.”
“I promise to make it worth the wait.”
“See you then.”
☥☥☥
The tour group spent the next day on the Giza Plateau. Again Marchant didn’t come. Michael and Tahir were inseparable, teaching together. Anne enjoyed seeing the Sphinx again, but got no message. How could she hear with Debbie and Rita chatting away? Tired and dusty in the afternoon, she decided to take lunch and an Egyptian nap in her room. She woke around five. After a shower and long meditation, Anne met Marchant in the lobby. Arnold had agreed to tail them.
“I was hoping for some privacy and made reservations in town. I hope that’s all right with you,” Marchant said.
“An excellent idea.” Anne smiled graciously.
“Shall we go?” He offered Anne his arm.
Once they were in their taxi and under way, he turned to her and asked, “So you’ve changed your name?”
“Oh, Greene. It’s a married name.”
“You’re married?” Marchant asked, his tone of voice remaining the same.
“Divorced, actually,” Anne tried to sound warm and inviting. “The family name attracts too much attention. I’m glad I didn’t use it. I’ve discovered Mr. Kramer thinks my family is in hip deep with the Illuminati and planning a blood sacrifice in the Great Pyramid soon.”
Marchant laughed. “That man has pieces of the picture, but he doesn’t see the whole.”
“I’d like to hear your idea of the whole,” Anne said.
“Yes,” he said, “I was hoping we could share some information.”
They arrived at the Raoucha and Kandahar, twin restaurants serving Lebanese and Indian cuisine, and were ushered into a back room, where they took a table. Marchant ordered for them both and Anne decided it would not be helpful to voice any objection. Arnold stationed himself at a table just outside their room, where he had a view of her and the main area of the restaurant.
Marchant took up their conversation again. “Did Mr. Kramer give a date for this blood sacrifice you’re to participate in?”
Anne hid her surprise by coughing a little after she swallowed a sip of chai. “I didn’t hear this from him, but two of his fans. They did mention these events are timed with important planetary alignments.”
He nodded. “Anything specific?”
“They aren’t that sophisticated, I’m afraid. How about you? Do you know of any important alignments coming up?”
“My work is important to the future of the planet.” Marchant suddenly took a new tack. “I know this sounds rather megalomaniacal, but I’ve studied all my life. Did you ever feel you were put here to fulfill an important mission?” He looked full into her face.
“My mother gave me a thoroughly rational education. It’s only recently that I’ve discovered such a feeling.”
“Really? I thought you’d trained all your life, given your background.”
As they ate their dinner, Anne treated Marchant to an abridged story of her childhood and adolescence. “It’s hard to escape public service as a Le Clair. But combining that with spirituality is something I’m only recently learning about.”
Marchant studied her for a moment. “Are you frightened you haven’t mastered enough to pull it off?”
Anne hesitated before this invitation to divulge what she knew.
“How about a trial run?”
Anne stared at him, her fork halted in midair.
“I know where it is, but I can’t get in by myself. Time is of the essence. There are certain . . .” he searched for a word, “interests who want to take control.”
“Yes?” Anne set her fork down and gave Marchant her full attention.
“I can’t open the room without another key.”
Anne was stunned by this revelation. She’d imagined a game of cat and mouse, not this straightforward admission. Unless it was a trap. She reached out to him with her mind, feeling his energy like a cop patting down a suspect. He was hiding something, but about this, he was telling the truth.
His eyes took on a speculative gaze. “How long did you say you’d been training?”
Anne laughed despite herself. “Politicians learn that almost by instinct. I’ve just honed it a bit.”
“Well?”
Anne smoothed the napkin in her lap. “Tell me about this room.” “Not here,” Marchant said. “But I can take you.”
“Why me?”
“Simple deduction. Michael’s too competitive.”
“Michael? Michael who?”
“Please, if we’re going to work together, we have to be frank.”
“All right.”
“His ties to the museum could be a cover for the shadow forces.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But why do you think my family isn’t involved in that group?”
Marchant sat forward, his lean frame taut with purpose. “Because if you were, they wouldn’t have assassinated your uncle.”
“I see.” Anne couldn’t think of anything more astute to say.
“We must work together to stop these people from gaining control of this ancient technology.”
What technology? And he knows of a room? Clearly, they’d underestimated Paul Marchant.
“When?” Anne asked.
Marchant sat back with a sigh of relief. “I’ll let you know. Keep yourself free of commitments. We may have to act on short notice.”
☥☥☥
As soon as Anne got back to the hotel, she called Michael’s room and left him a message to meet her at Tahir’s house, then took a cab there herself. Arnold had agreed the limo compromised her cover, but he insisted on accompanying her. It was quite late, but Tahir was sitting on the floor in his living room with Shani and two teenaged boys.
“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” she began.
“Come in.” Tahir put a cushion on the floor next to him. “It’s good to see you. Our home is your home.”
“Thank you.” She took a breath. “I’ve got news.”
The boys excused themselves, but Shani stayed. Tahir nodded for Anne to continue.
As she talked, her intensity eased and her words flowed more slowly. Tahir packed tobacco into the bowl of his shisha pipe while he listened. Before she got very far, Anne heard the front door open and Michael walked in.
He greeted Tahir and Shani, then turned to Anne. “Did you strike gold on your date?”
“It wasn’t a date,” Anne said, watching him settle onto his cushion. “I have news.” Anne started again, this time telling the story more slowly.
When she finished speaking, Tahir said, “A room. I’ve heard stories about the excavation at the south end of the plateau.” He dropped small coals onto his tobacco, then took a deep draw from the pipe. He sat back and exhaled huge plumes of smoke through both nostrils, looking exactly like a dragon. He passed the pipe to Michael, who took a small puff out of politeness, and offered it to Anne. She shook her head.
“We hear information on these secret digs from time to time from the villagers. Who else would they hire to help them? I heard that a large underground temple was discovered some years ago. I stumbled onto a smaller one as a teenager.”
Anne’s eyebrows peaked.
Michael said, “The story he told me at Sakkara. Perhaps you want to tell her yourself.”
Tahir took another puff from his pipe before continuing. “When I was about sixteen, I entered a tunnel near the Step Pyramid at Sakkara. I spent the whole day walking, crawling, sometimes swimming through a huge underground system of tunnels. After hours and hours underground, only occasionally seeing sunlight through the holes above, I crawled back up a large opening and came out on the Giza Plateau.”
“But—all the way from Sakkara?” Anne’s eyes were wide.
“Yes, eight miles.”
“My God. A whole series of underground caves from Sakkara to Giza?”
“Not caves, tunnels. The plateau is filled with them. And they extend north as well as south. Many years ago, the Nile was in the west. The tunnels were drilled out of the limestone bedrock so water could be brought to the sites.” He paused and looked at Anne. “Do you remember the Osireion?”
“Behind the temple at Abydos?”
“Yes. Remember how it is a whole layer lower than the front temple?” Anne nodded.
“After my first discovery, I snuck back to the Giza tunnel and explored beneath the plateau. These tunnels are not the only structures buried beneath the sand. I think they’ve uncovered a temple that in the ancient days stood at the south end of the plateau. I’ve heard stories about this room Paul Marchant told you about. In the back of that temple sits the Hall of Records.”
“Oh, my God!” Anne sat bolt upright. “But that means the Illuminati already have access.”
“No.” Tahir knocked the ashes from his pipe onto a plate next to him. “The gate to the Hall is guarded by ancient technology they do not yet understand.”
“What kind of technology?” Michael asked.
“It is an energy field,” Tahir said, “that cannot be penetrated by force. It must be opened with the keys.”
“Does it take all the crystals to bring down the shield?” Michael asked.
“Based on what we discovered at Dendara, the Hall itself cannot be opened without all six crystals.”
“That’s a relief.” Anne sat back. “Then if I go with Paul, we won’t be able to get in.”
“You won’t be able to activate the site,” Tahir clarified.
“Should I go with him then?”
“Not without me,” Arnold interjected.
“Arnold’s right,” Michael said. “It’s clear Paul is working with the shadow government. Otherwise how would he have gained access? You can’t trust him.”
“We need to know exactly where the entrance is,” Tahir said. “I can’t crawl around under the Giza Plateau like I used to. I’d prefer not to send my children, given that the Illuminati are actively working the site. It would save time.”
Michael looked at Tahir again. “What do you think is in the Hall of Records? Marchant seems to think our mission is to uncover some kind of Atlantean technology.”
Tahir packed his pipe again. “I don’t believe in Atlantis.”
“What?” Michael stared at Tahir. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am perfectly serious.”
“But all the metaphysical traditions document the existence of Atlantis. It’s supposed to be the source of the Khemitian civilization.”
Tahir shook his head. “Tell me the story and listen to it yourself as you do.”
Michael sat back and began to recite the familiar story. “Supposedly, right before the fall of Atlantis, people left the island and sailed to the East. When they arrived in Egypt, they taught the people their technology and built the Sphinx and pyramids, leaving the technology and records they’d brought with them in a chamber beneath the Sphinx. A sort of time capsule, so to speak.”
“What did these Atlanteans look like?” Tahir asked.
“Well, supposedly they were Nordic types. Tall and blond.”
“And these Khemitians?”
“They were supposed to be Africans.”
“Right, so enlightened white people came and taught the ignorant savages of Africa everything they knew and were the fathers of Khemitian civilization?”
“Oh.” Michael smiled. “I see the problem.”
Tahir placed more hot coals on top of his tobacco and took another deep draw from his pipe. After his famous exhale, he said, “That’s not the only problem, that the story is racist. When did Atlantis fall?”
“About twelve thousand years ago.”
“And how old is the Sphinx?”
“Much older.”
“Exactly so.” Tahir offered the pipe to Michael, who took another small puff. “Now, what did I tell you about the cycles of civilization?”
Michael eyes turned inward in thought.
Anne watched this exchange, enjoying the parade of emotions over Michael’s open face.
“You said that humanity goes through cycles of enlightenment and ignorance. That we are entering the awakening, when humanity is becoming aware again.”
Tahir nodded. “Is all of humanity awake during Aten?”
Michael’s eyes widened. “Yes, of course.”
“Then what about Atlantis?”
“Okay, I see what you’re saying. This is the story of the fall into ignorance, not the beginning of civilization.”
“Precisely. During Aten, the entire globe lives as one family sharing all knowledge. Each land uses technology that is appropriate to the specific area. Stonehenge in England, Tiahuanaco in Bolivia, and the pyramids in the land of Osiris.”
“The land of Osiris?” Michael frowned.
“The sites in northern Khemit, stretching from Dahshur in the south to Abu Roash in the north. The series of pyramids. Bu Wizzer, in the ancient language. The land of Osiris.”
“Oh, yes. These sites all worked together.”
Tahir sat back, a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
“So then what are we looking for in the Hall of Records?”
“This is enough for tonight. In just a few hours, I must lead the group through the Cairo Museum. Contrary to popular belief . . .” He glanced at Anne, his eyes laughing. “. . . I do sleep.”
Anne stood and gathered her things to go.
“Go with Paul Marchant,” Tahir said. “We’ll have to work with him and should try to befriend him. You seem the best candidate for the job.”
“I’ll let you know when he contacts me. Good night.”
“Good night.” Tahir stood and ushered them to the door.
They took a cab back to the hotel. The birds were beginning to stir when she and Michael stopped outside her door.
“We’ll have dinner tonight then?” Michael asked.
“A date?” Anne teased.
“Yes,” he murmured and bent to kiss her. Suddenly, the mu’adhdhin began his call to prayer, startling them both.
Michael drew back without his kiss. “Tonight then,” he repeated.
“Tonight,” Anne whispered.
☥☥☥
Anne went to bed just as the sun was rising and slept until noon. She missed the museum tour, but Michael could take her another time. After a late lunch, she wandered toward the conference lecture hall. Glancing at her program, she saw Jake Kramer was scheduled to speak, the man who believed Egyptian civilization had been built by aliens. If Tahir rejected the idea that white Atlanteans had built Khemit, she could only imagine what he’d say about this theory.
She leafed through her program to read the bio of Mr. Kramer. Her eyes fell on his picture and she stopped dead in her tracks. Here was the man who had glared at her and mouthed the word “Illuminati” during the party on the first night. She didn’t want to subject herself to his accusations once again.
A Monday afternoon next to the pool suddenly sounded lovely, except she didn’t think it would be warm enough to swim. Or perhaps a visit to the salon. She stretched out her hands and examined her fingers. They looked like she’d been doing exactly what she’d been doing, digging through the sands of Egypt for a solid week. Then again, Michael was an archaeologist. Maybe he preferred this look. Laughing at herself, Anne walked back to her room and made an appointment to get her hair and nails done. She wondered if Dr. Abernathy would approve of such an indulgence—taking time away from saving the world just to look good.
Around half past seven, Anne walked through the lobby of the Mena House. Many eyes turned to watch her. Bob followed at a discreet distance.
“Hello, Cleopatra,” one of the bus boys said as she walked by.
“Sukran,” she said. Her evening dress was the color of a light sky. Sapphire earrings sparkled from beneath her wheat-blond hair that now hung in carefully arranged curls. A royal blue and gold silk shawl from Aswan completed her outfit.
Michael had given her an address where she was to meet him at eight. She gave it to the taxi driver, who maneuvered through the familiar streets of the village onto the road to Cairo. Instead of crossing the bridge, the cab made its way through a street lined with large houses and immaculate gardens, then drew up to a large boat landing. A striped awning covered the dock. Next to the wide gangplank stood two young Egyptian men dressed in toga-like pants, formed by a pleated cloth wound around the waist and cinched with a large belt and golden buckle. They were bare-chested except for replicas of traditional necklaces strung with red, lapis, and light-blue beads setting off golden ankhs.
Michael stood just inside the boat entrance, scanning the crowd for her. She paused on the walkway to look at him. He wore a three-piece blue suit that made him look every inch the sophisticate, but Anne knew better. She knew the strength and agility hidden beneath that suit, and the sensitive heart hidden beneath that. In a characteristic gesture, Michael pushed his hair out of his eyes and at that moment their eyes met. A smile broke out on his face. It was as if the sun had come up. A rush of warmth filled Anne. She stepped onto the boat and Michael took her hand.
Michael nodded to Bob, who discreetly melted into the crowd. “It’s marvelous how he does that,” Michael said. He held Anne at arm’s length, taking her in. “You look stunning.”
If anyone else had looked her up and down, she’d have been insulted. But her body responded to Michael like a flower to the sun.
“Shall we go in?” He offered his arm. They walked into a long room filled with tables arranged around a central stage. The staff carried in dish after dish of steaming food, filling two long buffet tables. Enticing aromas floated in the air.
Michael escorted her to a small table next to the window near the bow. He pulled back her chair. A bottle of champagne and two glasses sat in the middle of the table.
She glanced up. The ceiling was painted like Nut’s sky, a deep blue sprinkled with gold stars. A row of golden lotuses graced the sides of each panel on the ceiling. “Just like the old days,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it. It’s a bit touristy, but that ensures no one we know is likely to stumble across us.”
“I didn’t see Paul Marchant all day,” Anne began.
“Shhh,” Michael touched her lips with the tip of his finger. “No business. Tonight is just for us.”
Anne was taken aback. Their quest had so consumed their time together that for a second she couldn’t imagine what to say to him. “This business, as you call it, has changed my life. I’m not the same woman you met in your uncle’s jewelry shop.”
“It was fate.”
“Pardon me?”
“I almost didn’t come into my uncle’s store that day. I had a great deal of work in the museum. I asked him to try to find someone else. But then something kept nagging me to go, so I changed my mind and told him I’d do it. It was just a feeling I had, that it was important to be there.” He reached for the champagne bottle.
“So the two crystals were reunited.”
He filled both their glasses. “The two Keepers were reunited.” He lifted his glass. “To the most exciting woman I’ve ever met.”
Anne paused, surprised. Finally, she said, “Why, thank you, sir.” She clinked her glass on Michael’s and they each took a sip. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d find a rational lawyer who does political work for her family firm so intriguing.”
“As you said, you’re not that woman anymore. Even though she was very intriguing, too. It’s been a pleasure watching you learn.”
Anne shook her head. “All these compliments. My goodness.”
“I had to hold so much back from you in the beginning. Then I was under suspicion.” Suddenly, he laughed. “I couldn’t believe what you said to me at Kom Ombo. ‘If you betray me, I’ll kill you’? Just after you gave me a passionate kiss.”
Anne shifted in her chair. “After the attack in Aswan, I realized there were several coincidences I was overlooking just because—”
“Yes?”
“Because I was attracted to you.” She looked up at him.
Michael reached out with his forefinger and started to stroke Anne’s hand.
His touch made Anne aware of every inch of her skin. “I knew in my heart you were innocent,” she said. “After Aswan, I thought back and realized I’d been with you the night my apartment was broken into. Then again the day my hotel room was searched. My head told me to be careful.”
“After a broken heart, our intellects often want to take charge to keep us from pain. But the head is not such a good judge of relationships,” Michael said. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day I met you.”
She looked into his deep brown eyes. Here was a man who’d endured humiliation and suspicion but remained steadfast, who’d waited while she learned what he’d studied all his life, with never a hint of condescension or impatience. Here was a man who had become her best friend.
Then she realized the boat was moving and raised her eyes to a beautiful view of the Nile. The dark water danced under the lights from the bank. Across the expanse of river, several more boats steamed along, some full of reveling tourists like this one, others carrying just a few passengers, others plying their trade. The gulls had gone to sleep. Inside, people were beginning to line up at the buffet tables.
Michael squeezed her hand. “I’ve ordered the vegetarian special for myself. Would you like to try it also or would you prefer the buffet?”
Anne stretched back in her chair, feeling much too relaxed to jostle elbows with the crowd. “I’ll have what you’re having,” she said. “At least you asked.”
“Excuse me?”
“Marchant. He just ordered for me.”
Michael laughed. “He doesn’t strike me as a man with much panache. But . . .” He pulled a mock stern face. “. . . no business.”
Anne held up her hands, palms forward. “No business.”
Michael instructed the waiter to bring two of the vegetarian plates and soon the two were sampling an amazing array of international vegetarian delicacies—keefta balls from Persia, stuffed grape leaves from Greece, a delicate pasta funghi from Italy, a light curry from India, and of course falafels, pita bread, hummus, and olives from Egypt. She hadn’t thought she was hungry, but this was the best meal she’d had in Egypt so far.
When they finished, Michael asked, “Dessert?”
She looked over at the buffet table. Several groups were crowded around it still.
“I’ll do the honors,” he said.
“I don’t usually.”
“Tonight we’re celebrating.” Michael pushed back his chair and went to the table, returning with a small plate of various chocolate treats. The mousse was the lightest she’d ever had, and they each finished off with a bite of a dark chocolate torte.
Waiters began circulating, clearing plates, offering coffee and aperitifs. The band appeared and began playing a slow dance tune.
“May I have the honor?” Michael held out his hand.
“It would be my pleasure.” Anne allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. Her shoulder tucked perfectly under his arm as if they’d been made to fit together. They moved toward the side of the dance floor, away from the growing number of couples. A late moon slowly rose over the Nile.
After a few slow numbers, the band brought out a belly dancer. Michael and Anne drifted away from the fast tempo to an upstairs deck. They stopped at the bow, Anne nestled under Michael’s arm. She shivered in the cool wind off the river and Michael pulled her under his coat.
“Better?” he whispered in her ear.
“Yes.” She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She felt the hard edge of his crystal beneath his shirt. Anne wished that they didn’t have to go back to the pretense of not knowing each other, to the task laid out before them.
The boat reached a line of tall hotels and started to turn around. “No,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
Michael reached down and put his hand beneath her chin. He tilted her head up and bent down to kiss her. The kiss began softly, his lips touching her like a honeybee testing a flower, then swiftly deepened. A warm rush of desire filled her. She leaned into him and felt his body respond.
His mouth moved to her ear and whispered, “I’ve waited all my life for you.” His voice was thick with desire.
“I feel like I’ve known you for centuries, like I’m coming home.”
They walked around the top deck as the boat voyaged back down the Nile. About halfway back, they returned to their table and watched the river slip by. Neither felt the need to speak. Once the boat had docked, Anne walked out onto the gangplank with Michael, as if in a dream. On the street, he hailed a cab. Bob quietly slipped into the front. She’d forgotten all about him. With her head on Michael’s shoulder, the trip passed quickly.
As they were pulling up to the Mena House, Michael said, “Perhaps we shouldn’t be seen together. Do you want to go in first?”
“I suppose,” Anne answered languidly.
Michael reached across her and opened her door.
“Good night then,” she said.
“Good night.”
Anne slipped through the lobby, avoiding the groups of conference participants standing around in clusters. She saw Marchant in the distance, but he turned his back to her, indicating this was not the time. She went to her suite.
“Good night, Bob,” she said at the door.
“Good night.” He opened the door to the adjacent suite. “Sleep well.”
She didn’t think she could sleep, not with the currents of desire coursing through her body. She stretched out on the bed, pulling her silk shawl over her. After a minute, she heard a knock. She sat up, her heart pulsing. Through the peephole she saw the familiar brown curls gleaming in the hallway light. She opened the door.
Michael looked at her, his eyes filled with desire.
“Come in,” she said. She heard Arnold’s door open, then close again.
Michael took her into his arms and kissed her almost violently, lifting her off the floor and carrying her to the bed. But once there, he slowed down, savoring a long, deep kiss. He turned her over and unzipped her dress, kissing her long back, then gently lifted her hips and drew the dress off. Anne sat up and loosened his tie, pulled it off, and threw it next to her dress. Then she unbuttoned his shirt and opened it, burying her nose in the nest of brown hair on his chest, breathing him in.
His hands cupped her breasts and he looked into her eyes. “My Hathor priestess.”
She smiled. “If only I remembered now what I knew then.”
“Let’s see if we can remember,” he said, and he kissed her again, his hands stroking her body.
Anne gasped and pushed herself against him, eager now. Michael quickly pulled off the rest of his clothes and stretched out beside her, kissing her lips, her neck, her breasts, her belly, then back up again. Anne pushed herself beneath him and they joined their bodies together.
As they moved, the present melded with the past. The intense sweetness of their bodies opened all her senses and she remembered him coming to her, the Tantric rituals of the temple, connecting to the earth, the river, bringing the flood out of the dampness of their lovemaking. In England, she lay on a stone altar, his body over her, his head crowned with the horns of the sacred deer. Even further in the past, he sat on a bed hung with silk curtains and she wrapped around him, a vine to his tree.
He traveled there with her in his mind, aware of it all—their bodies joined and aching in the present, their souls free of time, dipping into their past like swallows. The intensity built until there was no more thought, only waves of energy climbing the two spines of one consciousness. They climaxed together, releasing the energy up and out into the vast dome of the sky.