Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (35 page)

After a few seconds, more roars and screams erupted from somewhere near the front of the temple. I poked my head out. "It looks clear," I told the others. "Let's get out of here before we're trapped again." I grabbed Gadji's hand, then held my other out to Mother. She stared at it, and for one horrid moment, I was afraid she wasn't going to take it. Just when I started to wilt inside, she grabbed it, and I savored the feel of her hand in mine. We ran.

We tore out of the small room into the Hall of Hours and raced back the way we'd come. I could hear the sound of fighting far off—in the main courtyard, perhaps—but steered well clear of that. We finally made it to yet another wretched vestibule, then out into the open air. I paused for a moment, trying to catch my breath.

Another loud roar came from deep inside the temple, followed by shouts and yelling. I was relatively certain that Isis wouldn't hurt
me,
not even in her Sekhmet incarnation, but I wasn't sure about Mother and Gadji. "Come on," I said.

"Where are we going?" Mother asked.

"There." I pointed with my elbow.

"Where?" Her voice wobbled a bit.

"There, Mother, into the crowd."

"Theo, I really don't think—"

"Mother. Trust me. We are far safer with those angry demonstrating Egyptians than we are with the men back in the temple."

"Right." She nodded once, then began hurrying alongside me.

"And you," I said to Gadji, "should be right at home!"

He gave me one of those cocky grins I'd missed so much. "Just like old times, eh, miss?"

And then we reached the fringes of the crowd. I plunged into the masses, bumping into one body, then another, murmuring, "Excuse me," every ten seconds as I wormed my way farther and farther into the crowd. No one seemed to pay us any mind at first, and then slowly, space began opening up between us and the other demonstrators as they realized there were two English women in their midst.

I stared at the puzzled, angry faces, and I could not fault them a bit. Not only had we come into their country and plundered their treasure for our own museums, they were the first we blamed when one of our own went missing. We had done them a great disservice. I could only hope that by restoring Gadji to the wedjadeen, they would be able to put him on Egypt's throne one day and give their country its own ruler, one they deserved.

As the voices around us died down, however, I began to feel extremely uncomfortable. In the sea of white and black robes, there was an occasional black veil. And then I had a great big wonderful idea. Surely our housekeeper would not miss a demonstration such as this.

"Habiba!" I called out. "Habiba?" I turned around, searching the other side of the crowd. "Habiba, are you out there?"

There was stunned silence, and people began to look at one another, shaking their heads. "Habiba!" I tried one more time, dead tired and wanting nothing more than for all of this to be over and for me to be back in our little bungalow. "Habiba!"

Slowly the crowd parted and a hesitant black-swathed figure crept forward, glancing at those beside her and shrugging her shoulders, as if she could not account for the craziness of the
Inglaize.
As she drew closer, her hand flew to her mouth. "Young miss? Madams?"

"Oh, Habiba!" I pulled my elbow from Mother's grip, hurried over to the stunned Egyptian woman, and threw my arms around her neck. "Thank you for finding us!"

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Explanations and Goodbyes

T
HE DEMONSTRATION QUICKLY DIED DOWN
as word spread that one of their own had found the English ladies. The sea of people parted as Habiba led us to the nearby police station, where we could explain what had happened. Or parts of it, anyway.

They were rather overwhelmed by our somewhat hysterical tale of a German national who'd been impersonating a member of the Antiquities Service by the name of Borscht. It wasn't until Major Grindle's name was mentioned that they began taking us seriously.

Word was sent round to Father at his hotel, but Major Grindle arrived before he did, with a rather battered-looking Jadwiga and Rumpf. When Jadwiga spied me, a slow grin spread over his face, the first I had ever seen.

Before we could greet each other properly, we were distracted by the police's seizing of Rumpf, thinking he was the German national who'd kidnapped us. Honestly, did they really think he'd just waltz right into the police station and make their life that easy? Chaos didn't work that way.

The only good thing about their harassing poor Rumpf was that it created an opportunity for me to speak with Gadji. As I settled onto the bench next to him, I asked, "So now do you believe you are the last pharaoh?"

"Oh, I always believing it, miss." He shrugged. "Just didn't care so very much."

"I have some good news for you." His little face brightened. "Sefu and your sister are both safe and waiting for you."

His jaw dropped open as he gaped at me. "How you be knowing this?" he demanded.

This is what would make him a good ruler,
I thought. It was people he cared about, not the trappings of power. "I saw her with my own eyes. She's very nice, and she's keeping Sefu for you until you return."

He digested this news quietly for a moment. Unable to contain his joy, his legs swung back and forth vigorously. "Effendi miss is not needing me now that the bad mens is gone?"

"No. And even if I did, there are others to help me." I glanced over at Major Grindle, who was arguing fiercely in defense of Rumpf. I had no doubt he'd win, eventually.

There was a whisper of movement in the hallway next to us as a familiar black cloak swished in the shadows. I glanced up, relieved to see Khalfani. "You made it," I said quietly.

He nodded. "And you." Then he turned his gaze to Gadji, the wedjadeen's relief palpable. "We owe you much, Rekhet." He glanced over at the arguing officials. "Even so, I think the boy and I should be gone quickly."

"I agree." Before Gadji could squirm away, I gave him a quick hug. "Be safe."

"I will, effendi miss. You too!"

As I blinked back tears, Khalfani bowed. "Do not worry, Rekhet. You will see him again—when he leads his country to independence!" He flashed a rare grin, and then, with a swish of black cloak, he and Gadji slipped out the back door just as Father arrived at the front.

There was a lot of shouting and hugging and kissing. Father insisted on giving Habiba the reward he had posted for information leading to our rescue. However, one of the police tried to suggest she had had us kidnapped in order to collect the reward. Honestly, was he related to Mr. Bing? Father set him right double-quick, and that was that.

But not quite.

I was still desperate for a chance to speak with Major Grindle and find out what, exactly, had happened that had made everything go so terribly wrong. And if the looks he kept throwing me were any indication, he had questions for me as well.

We finally had our chance when the police decided they wanted to take Mother's and my statements separately, to be sure they matched. Mother was still just this side of hysterical, so Father went in to accompany her. At the door, he hesitated, and I was somewhat relieved to see that he was thinking twice about leaving me alone.

"I'll just sit here with Major Grindle," I assured him. "I'll be fine." I gave him a bright smile. Then he did the strangest thing.

He left the doorway and came over and planted a kiss on the top of my head. "I know you will, Theo. You are made of remarkably strong stuff." Then he returned to Mother's side and shut the door.

Major Grindle and I were alone at last. Well, relatively alone, if you didn't count Jadwiga and Rumpf sitting on the bench across the hall or the various harried-looking police officials racing back and forth, carrying reports of violence done during the demonstration. There were also reports of a small earthquake centered at the Luxor Temple, so they dispatched some of their men to see. There was even one crazed report of a lion being spotted in the desert, just on the outskirts of town. That one they ignored.

When I was certain that everyone was too wrapped up in his own business to pay any attention to us, I turned to the major. "What went wrong? How did Chaos get past all of you?"

"We hadn't counted on the nationalist demonstration," Major Grindle said, his voice laced with bitterness.

"They arranged that, you know."

"I'm not surprised to hear it. The streets were clogged with people—innocent people—and we couldn't even get close to our arranged ambush points. We had to stand helplessly by while Chaos let the crowd carry them to where they wanted to go, safely surrounded by a shield of innocents.

"Once we realized all the ambush points had been neutralized, we rushed to the Luxor Temple with all due haste." He gave me a glance both curious and shrewd. "Imagine our surprise to find a bloody panther on the loose, tearing through Chaos agents as if they were nothing but a field of mice. It seemed to avoid the wedjadeen, for some reason."

"Did you find von Braggenschnott, sir? Was he"—I swallowed hard—"dead?"

Major Grindle sat up straight, his nose quivering in indignation. "Von Braggenschnott! No—where was he?"

My heart sank as I explained how he'd followed us to the temple's inner sanctum. "Isis—the panther—attacked him first, but we were in such a rush to escape, I didn't check to see if he survived the attack."

"I will send someone round at once."

"It was the only way I could think of for us to get away."

"It was downright brilliant, is what it was, and if we had the time, I'd insist you teach me how you did it."

I glanced nervously at the door. "But Mother saw ... so much. How do I explain it to her?"

Major Grindle's bright blue eyes studied me intently. "Your heart will know, Miss Throckmorton."

"Yes, but will it know
soon?
" I asked. "Because they will want a full explanation sooner rather than later." It was too much to hope that Mother would forget what had happened or that she would refrain from telling Father. "Do you have a family?" I asked.

He gave a brisk shake of his head, and it suddenly became crystal clear to me why he didn't. He knew the true costs of the life he lived. The family he'd never have, the friends he'd always have to keep at a distance, the secrets he could never share. Impulsively, I turned and threw my arms around him, giving him an enormous hug. "Thank you, Major Grindle. For everything. But especially for my grandfather," I whispered.

He hugged me awkwardly, as if he hadn't done much hugging in his time. Then he pulled back and chucked me under the chin. "So much like your grandfather, and yet so very different. Any man should be proud to call you his daughter." He glanced at the closed office door. "Remember that."

"What will you do now? Has your cover been blown? Will they reassign you?"

"Ah, I think not." He glanced toward the window.

I followed his gaze and saw one of the wedjadeen waiting outside, looking like a loitering Bedouin. "You're going with them, aren't you? You're going back into the desert to study what they know?"

He smiled. "I've always said nothing much gets by you, Miss Throckmorton. Yes, I believe I shall. It is the opportunity of a lifetime! To learn all the arcane magic and ancient ritual! My whole life has been working toward this point. Who knows, I might even see if I can become the first British Weret Hekau. Wouldn't that be an accomplishment."

I had no doubt he'd succeed.

"But I'll never see you again," I said around a lump in my throat.

"Ah, now, don't say that, Miss Throckmorton. Who's to say your involvement with the Eyes of Horus has come to an end? Or perhaps one day you'll choose to come find us in the desert and continue your education."

I blinked at him. Now, there was a thought. "When will you leave?"

"As soon as we get this mess all sorted out, I'll be on my way. Mr. Jadwiga and Mr. Rumpf will remain behind to clear up any loose ends and keep an eye out for any lingering bits of chaos we might have missed."

The office door opened and Father stood there. "Theodosia? They'd like to speak with you now."

"Go on." Major Grindle gave me a gentle nudge. "Your family needs you."

I stood up, then threw my arms around him for one last hug and tried not to let my tears get his uniform wet. "Goodbye, my dear," he whispered in my ear.

I let go and he stood up straight, then saluted me. Ignoring my father's curious gaze, I saluted back, then turned and made my way into the office that held both my parents and my future.

At least for now.

***

Mother and I spent the next two days sleeping while Father clucked over us like a mother hen—which would have been amusing if it hadn't been so necessary.

I kept waiting for Mother to say something, to call me into her room and ask for an explanation of what had occurred. When we met in the hall or at the dinner table, her eyes would glance over me without truly looking at me, as if she was afraid. Or disgusted.