Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (16 page)

I
T WAS INDEED A COLUMN,
a standing column. Another hour's work revealed one on either side of it, which meant it was at the very least a new section of Hatshepsut's temple and could quite possibly be the Thutmose temple we'd been hoping for. Mother had Rumpf carefully sketch out the exact location of the columns, then had the men re-cover them with the debris so no one else would find them. If I had been expecting Jadwiga to cheer up at this discovery, I was sadly mistaken. His mood went from mournful to glum, but that was all.

Mother invited both men over to the house for dinner that night to celebrate our discovery. Jadwiga and Rumpf gave us just enough time to wash and change before they showed up on our doorstep. Mother brought out a bottle of champagne to celebrate and gave it to Rumpf to open. The cork shot off and nearly hit Habiba, who was clearing the plates. She sniffed in disapproval and removed herself from the dining room.

Rumpf poured the sparkling champagne into the crystal flutes Mother had produced from somewhere. Honestly! How had she known to pack those? Had she been that certain we'd find something?

"Here, darling," she said, and handed me a glass with an inch of champagne in it. "It was your discovery, after all, so you must join in the celebration." Then she lifted her glass and said, "To great finds, gentlemen!"

"To great finds, and the children who find them!" Rumpf amended. Have I mentioned that he is growing on me?

Even Mr. Miseryguts lifted his glass and gave me a morose nod.

I lifted the flute to my mouth, fascinated as the tiny bubbles popped and fizzed off the surface. It smelled fruity. Cautiously, I lifted it to my lips and took a sip. It crackled on my tongue, an odd sensation, but I did not care for the taste at all, so quickly put it back down on the table.

"Your mother said you were the one who discovered the second annex to Thutmose's tomb," Mr. Rumpf said. "How did a young girl like yourself come to make such a spectacular discovery?"

I looked to Mother for permission. After a faint pause, she inclined her head.

"Well," I began, not sure where to start. "In January, when Mother had just returned from months and months in the field, she suddenly needed to return to the valley to..." I didn't want to tell them of the ruthless competitive streak that had propelled her halfway around the globe so soon after returning, nor could I tell them it was a setup so that I would have an excuse to tag along and return the powerful Heart of Egypt to its rightful resting place before it destroyed my country. I glanced up at Mother, who was studying her champagne glass as if the secrets of the pharaohs could be discerned in its depths. "I decided I'd had enough of being left behind and, er, stowed away—"

"Invited herself along!" Mother said over me, then took a gulp of champagne.

"Right. Invited myself along. Then, once we'd arrived in Luxor, I'm afraid my impatience got the better of me and I snuck out one morning when my parents were still asl—"

"Dealing with the paperwork!" Mother said loudly.

"Right. Dealing with the paperwork." Honestly, was she going to tell this story or was I?

"And?" Mr. Rumpf prompted.

"And," I said, picking my way carefully over this part, "while exploring the tomb, I tripped and fell—"

"Such an awkward age," Mother murmured into her champagne glass.

"—against the back wall," I finished, but my focus was directed at Mother. She was embarrassed of me. She was nearly squirming with discomfort. Suddenly, my enjoyment of this story—of this discovery itself—turned to dust in my mouth. "It gave way and I tumbled into the newest annex."

Rumpf leaned forward. "And it was full of artifacts? Treasure of all kinds?"

Bother. Heard that, had he? But before I could try to explain, Mother gave a little laugh. "I'm afraid my daughter is mistaken, gentlemen. She was a trifle overset when we found her."

Overset?
Overset!
I'd never been overset in my life.

"She fainted shortly after that, and her father and I think she must have bumped her head in the fall."

Oh, how I longed to argue! I had not been overset and I had not imagined anything. "But Mother," I said sweetly, "how do you explain the Was scepter I found?"

She looked blank for a moment, unable to come up with an answer for that. However, before I could make a fool of myself and shout, "
Ha!
" Jadwiga spoke up.

"It was most likely the tomb raiders,
ja?
They are like a swarm of flies on honey. They can clear a tomb overnight."

Mother looked relieved. "Yes, perhaps that was it." She gave me a condescending smile that telegraphed quite clearly that she still thought I had imagined it all. A complete stranger believed me more than my own mother did. This was a fine state of affairs.

She began questioning the others about earlier digs they had worked on, but I hardly heard. I was torn between wanting to fume and wanting to weep. She was quite happy to benefit from my peculiar behavior—when it led to fascinating discoveries, say—but wanted to hide it from the rest of the world, as if it was something of which she was ashamed.

"And you, Mrs. Throckmorton?" Jadwiga asked. "What other digs have benefited from your expertise?"

The question jerked me out of my fugue, and I looked up at Mother. Perhaps her answer would reveal the temple where I'd been born.

As if quite aware of my powerful curiosity, she waved her hand prettily in the air. "Oh, the usual. Saqqara, Edfu, Dendera," she rattled off, then turned the conversation to a safer subject.

Pah! That was three different temples. There was no clue hidden there.

Suddenly I was gripped by some dark, ugly desire to remind her that there were far more shameful and embarrassing members of our family.

At the next lull in the conversation, I spoke up. "Did either of you know my grandfather?" I asked. "He was an archaeologist also, wasn't he, Mother?"

"Theo! How did you know of that?" she asked.

"I overheard someone talking of it once, at the museum."

"Well." She laughed nervously. "I'm sure these two gentlemen are too young to have worked with your grandfather." Then she changed the subject once again. But not before I saw the flicker of recognition in Jadwiga's brown eyes. He had heard of my grandfather.

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.