Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (13 page)

There was absolutely no sign of von Braggenschnott's hand. Not so much as a scrap of flesh or a fingernail to be seen. How had they gotten it out, I wondered? Had they cut it out? Or used magic? I leaned in closer to inspect the Heart of Egypt. It was well and truly fused with the wall now. When they had named it the
Heart
of Egypt, they had been quite literal, indeed.

I froze. That was it—a literal interpretation!

We had found many references to a temple of Thutmose III, and the way it was mentioned made it clear that it wasn't simply a temple here in the tomb. What if all the inscriptions about Thutmose being no longer content to stand in Hatshepsut's shadow and wanting to stand above her were a literal observation rather than a comment on her usurping his reign?

What if the inscriptions were directions to an actual location?

Perhaps we should begin looking at all the monuments and buildings that Hatshepsut had erected.

As soon as the thought formed in my head, it was followed by an image I had seen early that morning on the way to the valley—the mortuary temple of Hatshepsut built directly into the cliffs at Deir el-Bahri. I snapped my fingers. "That's it!"

"What's it, dear?" Mother's voice came from directly behind me. "Are you ready for lunch?"

Too excited now to even think of food, I whirled around to face Mother. "Hatshepsut's temple at Deir el-Bahri. That's where we should begin looking."

"Why there?"

I quickly explained all the references to temples that I had seen on the tomb walls that morning and my new belief that they were to be taken literally.

"Eureka!" Mother said, beaming at the wall.

"Eureka?" I asked.

"Well, it's what they shout when they find gold, and this is better than gold! Oh, you are brilliant, my daughter!" She flung her arms around me and gave me a giant hug that sent all the air whooshing from my lungs. I was so thrilled that she thought me brilliant that I didn't mind a bit.

I could only hope that brilliant made up for peculiar.

***

As we rode back through the valley toward home that evening, I almost didn't need my donkey. It felt as if the thrill of my discovery had given wings to my feet. I had forgotten my hunger, and my headache had disappeared, and I was certain I could have worked all night.

However, the others needed rest. And I had to admit, as we drew closer to home, my euphoria began to seep away, leaving only a deeply satisfying exhaustion behind.

When we reached the house, Gadji came out to greet us and take our donkeys. I raised my eyebrows in question, and he gave a quick shake of his head.

As Mother and Nabir left for the house, I lingered behind. "No luck?" I asked.

He shook his head. "They is all gone. No signs of them left anywhere. Big
Inglaize
hotels where family used to be."

"I'm so sorry." I thought for a moment. "What about shops? Did your family do their shopping at one place? Maybe they still shop there even though they changed houses?"

Gadji's face cleared. "Indeed, by Jove. I will try there next."

That settled, I made my way to the house, anxious for a quick wash before supper. I went immediately to my room.

And nearly shouted in surprise. The entire room had been ransacked. My bedcovers had been scattered and thrown to the floor, my traveling chest turned upside down, the drawers pulled open and everything topsy-turvy. Even Isis's carrying basket had been dumped upside down. My gaze flew to the sandbox, which had been scooted over a few inches, but all the contents seemed to be intact. Needing to be absolutely sure, I went over and knelt by the box. I hesitated a moment, almost afraid to know. If it had been taken, then what?

I took a deep breath, gripped the side of the box, and lifted it an inch. It was still heavy with the tablet. Wanting to be extra certain, I picked up one of the pencils that had fallen to the floor and poked around in the dirt until I felt the tablet itself.

Nearly weak with relief, I turned back to the room. "Isis?" I called softly, for she was nowhere to be seen.

There was a faint warble, and then her sleek black head poked out from under the bed. "Isis," I said, joy running through me. I hurried over to the bed, picked her up, and held her close to my chest. "I'm so sorry!" I said, leaning in to touch my nose to hers. Still holding her, I sat down on my bed and stared at the mess around me. Who had done this?

Isis wriggled in my arms, wanting down. I gently placed her on the floor, and she hurried over to the window. I opened it to let her out. As I watched her, I found myself wishing desperately that she could talk. Leaving the window open, I returned my attention to the room. Best to get it cleaned up before Mother saw it.

That thought lit a fire under me and I began scooping up the scattered clothes and returning them to their proper places. As I worked, I tried to puzzle out who the searchers might have been. My first assumption was Chaos, but that was just a guess. There was no evidence that it was, except my deep and abiding distrust of them. I grunted as I set my trunk back to rights.

Could Gadji have done this? I actually knew very little about him. Perhaps he thought I had money or valuables hidden away in here. One could hardly blame him. He had so little. Being a beggar must be wearing on the soul.

Or what about Habiba? She skulked around here like a dark, silent shadow. Hmm—it was nearly dinnertime. Perhaps I would go to the kitchen for something to eat. That would give me a chance to further observe our mysterious housekeeper.

As I drew near the kitchen, delicious smells met me in the corridor. I found myself hoping it wasn't Habiba who'd searched my room. It would be a shame to lose such a good cook. Especially since Mother couldn't be counted on to fill in if push came to shove.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Habiba looked up from the counter, where she was chopping something with an exceedingly sharp knife. I swallowed. Maybe this wasn't such a very good idea, after all.

A flicker of something moved in her dark eyes when she saw it was me. "Miss Effendi need something?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "I'm a bit hungry and thought I would check on how long till dinner."

"Not long now." She turned back to her chopping, her hands wielding the knife in quick, precise movements.

"Have you had a busy day?" I asked.

"Oh, very busy. I cook and clean and cook some more." She looked up and met my eyes again, and I cursed the veil that hid most of her face. It wouldn't hurt to keep a more careful eye on our housekeeper.

Today had been close. Too close. Someone had known we would be gone and had taken full advantage of our absence. I needed to get rid of the tablet before it fell into the wrong hands.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Agony and the Ecstasy

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
Mother woke me bright and early. "We're scheduled to take photographs of the inside of Thutmose Ill's tomb today," she announced. "You'll find it very interesting, Theo."

I knew I would, but there was something else I had to do before allowing myself to return to the excavation site. "I'm afraid I don't feel well, Mother. I think I should stay home today and rest."

"What's wrong, dear?" She hurried to my bed and placed her cool hand on my forehead.

"Perhaps I took too much sun?"

She frowned. "You were inside the tomb all day," she pointed out.

Bother. "Perhaps it was the heat, then? Or maybe I just got overexcited."

She smiled. "It was a rather exciting day, I'll grant you that."

"I think it would do me good to stay home and rest. I'm sure I'll be right as rain in a day or two."

Her face fell. "Well, if you really think so. I'll miss you on the dig. You're a huge help, you know. Besides, I can hardly wait to see what you'll discover next! You definitely have a knack for this work, Theo."

Her words were music to my ears! Music I had waited years to hear from my mother's lips. But duty—and deathbed promises—called. Completely unaware of the agony I was going through, Mother smiled. "I suppose we can manage without you this once. I'll tell Habiba." And with that, she got up and left the room, leaving me alone with my horrid promises to Awi Bubu and Lord Wigmere.

Clearly it had been only sheer chance that whoever had searched my room hadn't found the Emerald Tablet. But they would keep searching, of that I was certain.

I would have liked to pay my visit to the Luxor temple in the cool of the morning, but I knew the tourists would be out in full force then. Best if as few people as possible were there when I left my message to request a meeting with the wedjadeen. Consequently, I spent a long, slow morning in my room, brooding about the grandfather I never knew. I could still hardly stomach my family's perfidy. That they would have kept so much from me! How could I ever trust them again? Not to mention that the weight of their disapproval had suffocated me for years. How comforting it would have been to know that I had had a grandfather just like myself.

Although, after what had happened to him, that realization might not have been as comforting as one would hope. My grandfather (how odd that sounds!) had been a grown man, and look how badly things had turned out for him. What chance did I, an almost twelve-year-old girl, have to do any better?

The truth was, I couldn't wait to return the orb and the tablet to the wedjadeen so I could concentrate wholly on being an unpeculiar archaeologist.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was not in the best of moods. When Quillings's hideous watch contraption told me it was one o'clock, I was only too glad to get moving. I dressed quickly, made my bed, and left a lump of my old clothes carefully concealed under the covers.
There,
I thought, with one last prod at the decoy. That should look as though I were fast asleep to the casual observer. And hopefully, that was what Habiba was—a casual observer. It occurred to me that she could be a well-placed spy on behalf of Chaos, but Arab women led such sheltered and secluded lives that I didn't see how that could be the case.

Habiba was busy in the kitchen, so it was easy enough to sneak out to the stable, which was empty. Gadji and Sefu must have been off looking for Gadji's family. A sharp slice of regret cut through me and I was filled with a nearly overwhelming desire to have Sticky Will at my back for this adventure. But, of course, that was impossible, since he was an entire continent away. I gave myself a mental rap on the head and told myself to get on with it. How hard could it be to find the Luxor temple, anyway? Surely a landmark so popular with tourists and scholars would be easy enough to find.

I quickly discovered that finding it wasn't the problem—it was making my way through the small army of shopkeepers trying to sell post cards or ostrich feather fans or dragomen trying to talk me into hiring them. There was a small army of donkey boys, all shouting the virtues of their beasts at the top of their lungs, as well as men hawking
antikahs
and children begging for baksheesh. Finally, out of sheer self-defense, I hired one of the older children to act as my guide and lead me through the din and clamor to the temple.

It worked. Dodging and ducking around the clusters of locals, he led me through a maze of streets lined with shops and bazaars until we at last came upon the temple. It sat, solemn and majestic, spreading out for as far as the eye could see.

I paid the boy his coin and, in spite of his desire to stay and show me the temple, sent him on his way. I wanted to experience this ancient wonder without the constant chatter of my guide.

As the padding of his footsteps disappeared, I stared up at the marvel in front of me and felt as if I had been transported back to the days of the pharaohs. This was the place where the essence of the gods had lived. They had been worshiped here, housed, fed, clothed, and celebrated. There was no hint of dark magic or curses coming from anywhere nearby. Only a sense of unearthly power wafted across my skin, a faint breeze of sensation that felt both hushed and holy. There was also something just the tiniest bit familiar. With a flutter of recognition, I realized I'd felt a similar trickle of power coming off the artifacts of the gods that I'd handled. Now that I'd spent time in Egypt, so close to the source of all these magics, I was able to better distinguish the nuances between them.

A single obelisk rose up against the brilliant blue sky, and two rows of sphinxes guarded the entrance to the temple. Two colossal statues of Ramses II sat on either side of the entrance, imposing guardians of this once-sacred place.

No, it was
still
sacred, I thought.

I straightened my shoulders and tightened my grip on the reticule, then made my way down the procession of sphinxes. They were just statues, I reminded myself, even if it did feel as if they were watching me.

Luckily, most of the tourists had returned to their hotels and the temple appeared deserted. It was eerie, really, and if I hadn't needed to conduct my business in utmost secrecy, I would have been slightly unnerved.