Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (17 page)

It did, however, mean I would need to ride a donkey to the temple, as the basket weighted down with the tablet was far too awkward and heavy to carry for long. With any luck, Gadji would be out looking for his family again and I could sneak out unnoticed.

My luck failed, and I hoped it wasn't going to be an omen. Gadji was in the stable, lying in the straw and scowling at the ceiling. "Good afternoon," I said, startling him. He jumped to his feet, his eyes going immediately to the carrying case.

"Where is effendi miss going?" he asked.

"On an errand. Could you please saddle up my donkey for me?" I loathed having to ask him, especially since he wasn't invited on the errand, but I didn't know how to do it myself.

"Effendi miss need Gadji to go with her?" His voice was full of hope and for a moment I was tempted. But it was too dangerous. I had no wish to drag anyone else into this tangle I'd found myself in.

"Not today," I said cheerfully. It was a trick I'd learned from Mother, delivering unwelcome news in the most jaunty tone possible.

He looked injured and hung his head dejectedly as he saddled the donkey.

"Have you had any more luck with your family?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No lucks. Old market is having new peoples in it. None of those peoples know mine."

No wonder he was so discouraged. "I'm sorry," I said. "But I want you to know you can stay here as long as you like."

He nodded. "It is right that you offer me this since I save your life. Miss is needing me to keep her safe," he said slyly.

"Just not today."

Once the donkey was saddled, I secured the basket on its back and made sure the straps were extra tight. Gadji silently offered to help me up onto the saddle, making me feel even worse for excluding him. "Look," I said, leaning down, "I do need you to do one thing for me."

His whole face brightened.

"If I am not back by dinnertime, I need you to go to the
antikah
man's house. Do you remember it?"

"Of course."

"Good. Go to that house and ask for Major Grindle and tell him that I haven't come back. He'll know what to do."

"Will he be knowing where effendi miss goes?"

He was a sharp one. "No, he won't. And if I tell you where I'm going, you need to promise not to follow. Can you do that?"

He nodded solemnly. "I promise to not follow you."

I checked to be sure his fingers weren't crossed. (Did Egyptians even know about that trick, I wondered?) "Very well. Tell him I went to the Luxor Temple."

Gadji nodded. "Yes, miss."

I slapped the reins. The donkey lurched forward and stumbled. Not the most auspicious beginning to my adventure, I thought.

***

It didn't take long before the temple came into view. Even from here, I could feel the great magic and power pulsing off the monument, like a giant heart beating. Only instead of pumping blood, it was pumping
heka.
But good
heka,
thank heavens.

Just before the temple, I slipped off the donkey, tied it up to a scrubby little palm tree, and hauled the basket from behind the saddle.

It seemed to have grown heavier during the ride.

As I walked down the row of sphinxes, the air stirred faintly, pale shadows and flickers of hieroglyphs swarming on the statues' surfaces. I blinked to clear my eyes, and when I looked again, the symbols were gone. I wondered if I'd just seen my first mirage. Somehow, I didn't think so.

The sphinxes were intended as guardians, I reminded myself. So as long as I didn't mean the temple or the gods any harm, I would be fine.

I circled around the walls of the temple and approached from the northeast side, until I reached the colonnade between the Great Court of Ramses II and the Great Court of Amenhotep II. Once inside the cover of the columns and hidden from all-seeing eyes, I felt a bit easier.

Eager to get things over with, I made my way to the innermost part of the temple. Even in the broad daylight, the place was thick with powerful magic.

The Court of Amenhotep echoed eerily as I crossed its broad expanse. I had only to set the offering on the altar, wait until the wedjadeen found it, then leave as quickly as possible. Then it would all be over.

But if that was the case, why did I feel so melancholy?

I must have caught it from Jadwiga.

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."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Last Pharaoh

I
LOOKED FROM
G
ADJI
in his tattered rags to the wedjadeen's serious faces. They had to be joking. Didn't they? "Gadji," I said slowly. "Do you know these men?"

"No, miss. I never see them before."

"You see?" I told the wedjadeen. "There must be some mistake."

"Come," the man with the knife said. "It is not good to linger. We will take the girl with us and talk where it is safe."

As Khalfani nodded and motioned for someone to pick up the tablet, one of the wedjadeen bowed in front of Gadji and politely indicated that he should go first. Another wedjadeen grabbed my arm, rather roughly, I might add.

"Do not be harming her!" Gadji called over his shoulder, and the man relaxed his grip somewhat.

"Where is this safe place you would take us?" I asked.

"A day's ride from here," said the man holding my arm.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I can't be gone that long. I'll be missed."

A second wedjadeen took up position on my other side. "We cannot leave you here. You know too much."

"But that was our agreement," I protested. "I would give you the tablet and you would let me be. If Gadji wants to stay, that's up to him. We said nothing about your taking me with you."

The man put his head down close to mine so that we were practically nose to nose. "We said nothing about letting you go free, either."

I swallowed. No, they hadn't, come to think of it. I had just assumed that part.

The priest, Baruti, stepped closer. "She did keep her promise," he pointed out. "Are we not required to honor the agreement that Awi Bubu made with her?"

"
I
made no such agreement," the man with the knife said.

"Nevertheless," Baruti continued, "it is the word of a wedjadeen and we must honor it."

One of the other men said something in his own language, and then someone else spoke up. I slipped my free hand into my pocket and grasped the small sliver of Babel stone.

"...we cannot leave her here. She knows too much about us."

"If we take her, there will be a huge hue and cry. The
Inglaize
will make all our people suffer until they find her."

Another man shrugged. "So we leave her but cut out her tongue."

"That won't work," I blurted out. "I'm perfectly able to write things down, you know."

Then Khalfani, who had been arguing on my behalf, threw me an aggrieved look. "You are not helping your own cause."

Honestly! They could hardly expect me to stand by quietly while they discussed mutilating me.

Khalfani frowned and tilted his head in question. "You speak Arabic?"

"Er, a little," I said, fingering the stone inside my pocket.

"Come," one of the others hissed. "We have tarried too long. We must leave."