Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (15 page)

Of course, I could also be proved wrong, which would be most embarrassing. Not wanting to think about that possibility, I turned my attention back to the red ocher hills rising up before us. They were said to be sacred to Hathor, the goddess of love, music, and motherhood. If so, surely she must be pleased with the monument Hatshepsut had built there. It was an architectural marvel, the temple and landscape fused together by the skill of the ancient builders so that they became one. It completely dwarfed the older temple of Mentuhotep II, which shared the valley with it.

Mother leaned over on her donkey. "Naville has done a magnificent job restoring the mortuary temple, hasn't he?"

I didn't know who Naville was, but the mortuary temple was certainly in excellent shape.

"
Ja,
" Jadwiga agreed. "He is so meticulous, it seems hard to believe he would have missed an entire temple."

Mother raised her chin a bit. "People miss things all the time."

"Plus, the ancient Egyptians thought children brought good luck," Gunter Rumpf added. "Perhaps your daughter will bring us the same." He smiled at me, clearly a gesture he'd not had much practice with. Even so, I appreciated the effort and smiled back.

As we drew closer to the temple, Mother glanced around for any signs of other archaeologists. "Now, remember," she said. "If anyone else shows up, we're just here to see the sights and have a picnic."

"Do you British always bring your picks and shovels with you on your picnics?" Jadwiga asked in his woebegone voice.

Mother ignored him and turned her attention to the incredible edifice before us. A long ascending ramp led up to a series of broad, raised terraces, built into the actual cliff one atop another like a fancy cake. A series of columns supported each level. Hatshepsut's temple was enormous. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it full of people: priests and officials, commoners come to make offerings to the mortuary cult of Hatshepsut. I also tried to determine if there was any
heka
emanating from the monument. It had been built to glorify the pharaoh Hatshepsut and connect her to her "father," the god Amun. His presence was heavy here, as was Hathor's. But there was no sense of the dark forces of magic or curses swirling nearby. Or at least none that could be felt from where we stood. "Can we go inside?" I asked Mother.

"Er, not today," she said.

So much for sightseeing!

"Let's tie up the donkeys over here." Mother led us to a spot in between the two temples, a place that was partially hidden by the southwest corner of the temple terrace. I glanced back the way we'd come. Our mounts would be hidden from any passersby.

While the men organized the equipment we'd need, I lifted the wicker basket from the back of my donkey and set it on the ground. Mother thought I was being peculiar again, insisting on bringing Isis, and perhaps I was, although not in the way she thought. This peculiarity had a very specific purpose. I had almost lost the Emerald Tablet two days ago; I didn't dare take any more such risks now, not when I was scheduled to hand it off tomorrow.

After looking to be certain everyone else was busy, I opened the lid. "Come out, Isis. No one is watching." As sleek and silent as death itself, Isis crept out of the basket. "Make yourself at home," I told her. With a quick flick of her tail, she slunk off and quickly lost herself among the shadows of the rocks. I breathed a little easier. It never hurt to have access to her excellent cat senses.

I went to join Mother, who kept looking nervously over her shoulder. "You did get permission to be here," I asked, keeping my voice low, "didn't you?"

She got very busy unloading her tools from her donkey. "There was no one to ask, really. Weigall was out in the field, and when his assistant kindly explained Naville wasn't going to be working here this season, I decided surely no one would mind if we had a quick look around."

Honestly! I'd never seen this side of my mother before. I had no idea she was so ruthless. This could end up being a problem, especially if we
did
find something. It would be so disheartening to have one's first major discovery be disputed.

"Now, Theo," Mother said. "What exactly did that translation say again?"

She was just trying to distract me. I knew she had memorized it, just like I had. "
For Thutmose sits in no one's shadow. He alone is most beloved of the gods and sits above the right shoulder of his forebears.

"Which would be right about ... there." I pointed to an enormous pile of rubble and scree.

"There?" Mother frowned.

"Well, it is between the two temples, so any temple Thutmose III had built would be staring down at Hatshepsut, and he would in effect be above her," I explained.

"
Ja,
but it looks like all the excavators in the valley have dumped their unwanted debris until they created a mountain of junk," Jadwiga pointed out.

"True," I said, my enthusiasm waning somewhat.

"Well, that's why we brought shovels, isn't it?" Rumpf asked, handing one to Jadwiga and Nabir. "The sooner we start, the sooner we'll know." And with that, he strode over to the tower of rocky debris and began digging.

The rest of us followed, albeit less zealously.

We dug—and dug—our shovels making nothing but a small dent in the enormous pile. In fact, we dug the entire morning. I quickly realized that doing excavation of
this
sort is far less satisfying than just stumbling onto a hidden annex.

Just past noon, we took a short break for a quick lunch. Everyone else took a seat in the shade from an outcrop of the third terrace of Hatshepsut's temple. I, however, looked for a place to sit a small ways away. All this digging was discouraging enough that I was afraid I'd catch a case of Jadwiga's doldrums if I sat too close to him. He was so downcast that his poor mustache nearly drooped to the ground. Although I had to admit I would be, too, if I did very much of this and never found anything.

Isis had been poking and sniffing around all morning and now sat perched at the base of a particularly steep section of debris. After looking at it closely to be certain it wouldn't all come tumbling down, I laid my handkerchief on the ground and sat down on it with my back to the hill, almost like a chair. As I unwrapped my sandwich, Isis came over to see what I was eating.

"You probably shouldn't sit there,
ja
?" Jadwiga intoned. "The whole mountain might fall down on your head."

We had to find something today, if only to cheer him up. "I'll be fine," I chirped, putting as much cheer into my voice as I could. "I checked it before I sat down." I reached out and patted the mound of dirt behind me, which let loose with a small shower of debris. Bother. That was not the reassurance I had been looking for. Luckily for me, however, Jadwiga's attention was drawn by something else at the moment.

"Here comes the frosting on the cakes," he said with a deep, sad sigh. "They have found us out and will now drag us to jail."

"What?" Mother hopped to her feet and spun around to see who was approaching. "Quick," she said over her shoulder. "Hide those shovels."

I shielded my eyes from the bright sun and peered at the figure riding toward us. The rider was a tall man with military bearing wearing unrelieved black, except for the little red fez perched atop his head. As he drew closer, I saw the glint of gold-rimmed glasses and a fat black mustache.

Oh no!
I thought, glancing to see where I'd set Isis's case. It was back by the donkeys, where, hopefully, he wouldn't be able to get a good look at it.

When the rider had drawn close enough that we could make out his face, it confirmed my worst fears. "Mr. Borscht!" Mother said, sailing forward.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and it was all I could do to keep from running in the opposite direction. Mr. Borscht—von Braggenschnott—halted his horse in front of us, stepped off the beast, and bowed low to Mother. "Good day, Madame Throckmorton," he said. "I had reason to come to Luxor this week and thought I'd check in on you. Although"—he smiled—"I had thought to find you at the Valley of the Kings, as we had discussed."

"I'm so glad to see you again," Mother said. "We've been enjoying a little picnic today and seeing the sights." Her voice was a bit loud, as if she could make up with volume what she lacked in honesty.

Mr. Borscht gave a friendly chuckle. He glanced good-naturedly at the partially concealed shovels. "So I see, Madame Throckmorton, so I see."

Eager to turn the conversation to other things, Mother asked, "Have you met my assistants?" As she introduced Mr. Rumpf to von Braggenschnott, a horrid thought occurred to me. What if Mr. Rumpf was working for Chaos, too? He was very intense, a trait that nearly all Serpents of Chaos seemed to possess. He was also German, like von Braggenschnott, and he even wore the same glasses.

But Awi Bubu had recommended the man himself, hadn't he? Or had he recommended Jadwiga? My gaze darted back and forth between the two, trying to determine which looked like someone Awi Bubu might have recommended.

"And how is your lovely daughter enjoying Luxor?" Von Braggenschnott's voice interrupted my escalating suspicions. "Is your education progressing nicely, fräulein?"

"Quite nicely," I said stiffly.

"Have you spotted any more vermin, I wonder?" he asked.

I narrowed my eyes. "A few." My words were clipped, and he laughed. Mother looked a bit perplexed but laughed politely.

"Do be careful, fräulein," von Braggenschnott added.

"Be careful of what?" Gunter Rumpf asked. He, at least, could sense the undercurrent between Borscht and me, even if he didn't know what it meant. Which made me feel horridly guilty for my suspicions.

Von Braggenschnott leaned forward. "There are many hidden dangers in the valley," he said. "Black-market antiquities dealers, cutthroat collectors who are not above knocking heads around and taking what they want. Unstable conditions," he added, with a glance at the shifting pile of rubble behind us. One can never be too careful," he said, looking pointedly in my direction.

"If any of you need anything, Madame Throckmorton, anything at all, you let me know," he added.

"Excellent. Thank you so much for stopping by."

"My pleasure, Madame Throckmorton." He bowed at Mother. "Miss Throckmorton." When he bowed at me, I felt faint. This whole visit had been designed to let me know that he was here and he was watching me. No matter if we changed our plans or not, he would always be one step ahead of us.

As he rode away, Mother said, "See, Mr. Jadwiga, there was nothing to worry about." She was trying to cheer up the poor man. When she is happy, she likes everyone to be happy.

"
Ja,
" he said, picking up his shovel. "Or maybe he is just trying to lull us into a false sense of security."

Could the man
be
any more of a wet blanket?

Depressed enough on my own, I returned to my lunch spot before he could infect me with even more melancholy. I dropped to the ground, my mind awhirl with the implications of von Braggenschnott's visit. I would have to get word to Major Grindle. And what about my meeting with the wedjadeen tomorrow? How would I keep von Braggenschnott from finding out about that?

I groaned and leaned back against the pile of rubble, my head clunking on a particularly large rock. "Ow." I turned to brush the rock aside, but there wasn't one. Just dirt. That was odd. I reached for my work gloves and slipped them on, then felt along the hillside where I'd just bumped my head.

It was hard as stone. I scowled at it, then began carefully brushing the dirt aside, grateful for something to focus on. The voices of the others faded into the distance, along with all thoughts of Chaos. It was just me and the dirt and whatever mystery might lie behind it. After a few moments, I'd gotten rid of enough dirt to see something dull white shining through.
A bone?
I wondered, with a faint jolt of horror. I hesitated then, not wanting to disturb the dead. Then I reasoned he was most likely already disturbed and continued brushing away the dirt.

A few seconds later, I realized that it wasn't a bone at all. It was much too big for that. It had a slightly rounded shape with vertical ridges running up and down.
Man-made, then,
I thought, a tiny thrill running through me. Using the greatest of care, I began scraping away the last of the excess dirt from around the object.

Like a hound on point, Rumpf bounded over to me, nearly quivering in his eagerness. "Have you found something?"

"I'm not sure..." I said, not wanting to spoil the surprise if I had. "Mother!" I called out. "Could you come check this out?"

She hurried over and dropped to her knees next to me in the dirt.

"Look," I said. "At first I thought it was round, and most rocks aren't perfectly round. But when I began to clear away the sand and debris, I realized it has a polygon shape to it."

Mother's hands joined mine on the hillside and within minutes we had brushed away the last of the dirt to reveal a short stub. Of a column. A polygonal column. The sort used in ancient Egyptian temple architecture. Which meant...

"Excellent work, Theodosia!" Mum beamed at me. "I think you've found the temple of Thutmose III!"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Life of the Party