Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (8 page)

"Yes, Mother," I said, my eyes still on Gadji. As I watched, he reached under the folds of his gown, then pulled something out. He lifted it in front of the glass, and I had to bite back a gasp of surprise.

My reticule!

Before I could do anything, a conductor spied Gadji and hurried over to shoo the boy away. Mother looked up at the commotion.

"Mother, this is the boy that I'd promised baksheesh to. I told him I'd ask you for a few coins. Do you think we could spare some?"

"Giving in to their demands only encourages poor behavior, Theo. It's not a good idea."

I made my eyes as big and round as possible. "Please! He reminds me a bit of Henry, and I would hate to think of Henry, all alone in a huge train station, having to beg for a living—"

"Oh for goodness sake, Theo! There is no chance of that happening to your brother. You do let your imagination run away with you. But here, give him this so he can be on his way and we can be on ours." She opened her pocketbook, pulled a few coins from it, and dropped them into my outstretched palm.

"Thank you, Mother!" I popped up, kissed her on the cheek, then darted out the door to the corridor where the conductor was scolding Gadji in blistering Arabic.

"It's okay!" I said, diving into the fray. "He's with me."

The conductor stopped talking and frowned. "With you, miss?"

"Yes, I told him to come find me on the train. He ... he has something of mine. He's returning it."

"Very well," the conductor said. "But be quick. The train leaves in minutes." With one last skeptical glance at Gadji, the conductor moved on down to the next compartment.

When he was out of earshot, I turned back to Gadji and nearly hugged him. "However did you find it?" I asked.

Gadji smiled. "Sefu. When he returns to me that afternoon, he is dragging this with him." He held the reticule out to me and I quickly took it back, relieved to feel the familiar weight. Wanting to make sure it hadn't been substituted for an orange or something, I quickly peeked inside. The orb sparkled back.

"Thank you," I said. "You've no idea how badly I needed this."

"Why is effendi miss carrying such a valuable Egyptian
antikah?
" he asked suspiciously.

"My mother is an archaeologist. That's her job, finding the lost treasure of the ancients."

Gadji frowned. "But they are our ancients, no? Should not the treasure be ours, then?"

Well. He certainly had a point. "I suppose they should," I said slowly. "But I don't make the rules. Neither does my mother. But here." I handed him the coins Mother had given me. "As a reward for returning my purse."

Just as his grubby hand closed round the coins, the train whistled, then lurched forward.

"Quick! You must get off!"

Gadji looked unconcerned. "I do not think so. Maybe I stay on this train and visit Luxor."

"But your family? Won't they be frantic with worry?"

Gadji shrugged. "No one but angry owner of donkeys back there. Besides, Gadji's family is from Luxor. Perhaps I will return and search for them. You," he said, his face brightening, "is giving me the means to do so." He gave me a nod of thanks. "Until Luxor," he said, then bowed and began making his way back to the third-class cars. Still trying to understand what just happened, I returned to our compartment, relishing the familiar
thump-bump
of the reticule now that it had been returned to me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Introductions

I
T IS A LONG TRAIN RIDE
from Cairo to Luxor. Twenty hours or more, depending on the conditions. I could not help but be wildly grateful for our deluxe traveling compartment and thought often of poor Gadji, standing hip to jowl with scores of other travelers in third class. Try as I might, however, I could not come up with any reason to give Mother as to why an Egyptian boy she'd never met should travel with us. She had been unhappy enough about a cat.

"Theo, have you got all your things?"

"Yes, Mother," I said, wrapping the reticule string twice around my wrist for extra security. I gripped my satchel in one hand and Isis's wicker basket in the other and followed Mother off the train. Luckily, this station wasn't nearly as big—or as crowded—as the Cairo station. Nor was there a Nationalist demonstration going on just outside. Even better, Mother's dragoman, Nabir, was waiting for us, his dark face creased in smiles as he greeted Mother with a bow. "Welcome back, madams."

"It's wonderful to be back, Nabir," Mother said. "And you remember my daughter, Theodosia?"

His smile dimmed ever so slightly. "But of course." He bowed to me and I thought I detected a flicker of panic cross his face. I could not imagine why. Nabir and I had gotten on quite well last time, although I'd had to strong-arm him a time or two in order to carry on with my business. Surely he didn't hold that against me.

"Have you assembled all the workmen?" Mother asked.

"Most all, madams." He and Mother began walking toward the baggage car, discussing archaeological business. I hung back a bit, hoping to find Gadji. Score after score of dusty Arabs disembarked the train, but they were all adult size. Finally, a small figure appeared in the doorway, a monkey clinging to his shoulder.

As Gadji stepped onto the platform, I cast one more glance in Mother's direction, but she was still occupied with the luggage. Good.

"You made it," I said.

He gave me an odd look. "Of course Gadji makes it. Why would I not?"

"No reason. Do you have someplace to stay here in Luxor?"

Gadji shrugged. "Not yet."

"I thought you had family here?"

"Gadji used to have familys here," he corrected. "I am not knowing if they are still here until I look for them."

"Where will you spend the night?"

"I will find someplace. A barn, a doorway. If all else fails, I will sleep under the stars and let Nut watch over me."

I couldn't decide whether to be impressed by his trust in Nut, the Egyptian goddess of the sky, or horrified by his casual disregard for his circumstance. Horrified won. "But that's not safe, is it? How will you eat?"

Gadji shrugged again. "I will beg." He nudged Sefu and the little imp scampered under the collar of Gadji's robe and settled onto his back, making him appear misshapen.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe you should come with us?" I suggested.

Gadji flicked a glance over in Mother's direction with a look of scorn. "You think she is being pleased with that?"

"I'll come up with some excuse," I explained, but before I could elaborate, Nabir spotted us and hurried over. He erupted into a quick spate of Arabic and tried to shoo Gadji away. Honestly, he wasn't a fly! Why did everyone insist on treating him so? Gadji flashed me a look as if to say,
See, I told you so.

"It's okay, Nabir. He's with me."

Nabir's words stumbled to a halt, a look of wariness on his face. "What is he doing with you, miss?"

He had me there. I grabbed the first explanation I could think of. "I had promised that I would hire him to carry my things once we arrived in Luxor. Here." I shoved my satchel at Gadji.

Thinking quickly, he reached out and took it. Then he held out his other hand for Isis's basket. I hesitated. Conscious of Nabir's suspicious stare, I had no choice but to hand it over. "Do be careful not to jostle the basket," I told Gadji. "It contains very precious cargo."

He gave a surprisingly regal little bow. "I am carrying it most carefully, effendi miss," he said just as Mother joined our little group.

"What is going on, Theo?" she asked with a small frown. "Is he one of yours, Nabir?"

I jumped in before the dragoman could say anything. "No, Mother. He's the boy on the train. Remember? I'd promised to give him baksheesh, but you said that wasn't a good idea since it only encouraged poor behavior. So I took your suggestion and offered him a job carrying my luggage instead." I smiled brightly, as if this was the most brilliant idea she'd ever had.

"That was my idea?" she asked faintly.

"Yes, and it
is
much better than begging, Mother. You said so yourself."

"I suppose I did," she muttered. "Very well. Come along, then. Do we have everything, Nabir?"

"More than enough, madams." He threw an annoyed look at Gadji, then began herding us all toward the exit.

With both my arms empty except for the reticule, I couldn't help but feel as though I was forgetting something. I turned around to be sure I hadn't dropped anything and caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. A black-cloaked figure quickly stepped back behind a column. I sighed. With Mother having unwittingly told the Serpents of Chaos of our every planned move, of course they would be following us already.

That just meant we'd have to come up with some
unplanned
moves.

***

As I stepped out into the streets of Luxor, I braced myself for the impact of the magic that surely ran rampant in the city's streets. So close to the ancient monuments, it would be nearly overwhelming. Awi Bubu had warned me that this trip would be different from my first. On that first trip, I'd been wearing the powerful Heart of Egypt amulet, which had protected me from the worst of the old, powerful magic that hung over the land. This time, I had nothing but a few measly homemade amulets protecting me.

I needn't have worried. The unseen
heka
sat like an invisible haze over the city and prickled against my skin with a faint fizz and pop, much like the bubbles off ginger beer, but it wasn't dark or oppressive. Odd, that. I wondered if it was because the ancient monuments themselves were so close by and so steeped with centuries' and centuries' worth of good worshiping-type magic that it canceled out the darker kind?

The house Nabir had secured for us was a large sun-baked bungalow that sat up against a slight hill, looking back down on the village of Luxor. There was a small husk of a stable, and the yard was mostly hard-packed dirt with a lone, valiant vine doing its best to earn its status as a garden.

A figure swathed in black from head to toe—with only her eyes exposed—met us at the front door and bowed low. "This is Habiba," Nabir said byway of introduction. "Your new housekeeper. She is my wife's cousin and is very skilled in the ways of keeping a house." She looked rather like a tall, slender tent with eyes, I thought. She also looked unbearably hot in all those layers of black. Her dark eyes widened when she saw Gadji behind me and she sent a questioning glance at Nabir. His answer in Arabic put a scowl on her face and Gadji's. For one brief moment, I was afraid the donkey boy was going to kick the dragoman, but Habiba bustled us all into the house and the moment passed.

She pointed Gadji and me down a short, narrow hallway, then disappeared in the opposite direction to take Mother to the master suite.

My small room was stark and spare—a narrow bed, a rickety washstand, and a small chest of drawers. There wasn't even a desk.

A low, impatient warble emerged from the basket. Gadji dropped it and leaped back.

"Don't be silly," I said, hurrying over. "It's only my cat." I knelt and unlatched the basket. Isis came up out of its depths with a mad howl, going straight for the monkey who had emerged from Gadji's robe.

Gadji and Sefu both squealed. Gadji ducked, but the monkey leaped away onto the top of the screen that covered my window. Isis prowled over to sit below and emit warning howls from deep in her throat.

"What is being wrong with your cat, miss?" Gadji asked, sounding deeply offended.

"I don't think she likes Sefu."

The monkey, sensing it was out of harm's way, waggled its fingers at Isis and made a series of ugly little faces at her. She abruptly leaped up onto the windowsill, surprising the monkey. It screeched and leaped back onto Gadji's shoulder. Isis glanced at it, then hopped out into the garden, dismissing Sefu with a disdainful flick of her tail.

When she'd left, the little monkey began chattering excitedly. Gadji said a few comforting words to the creature in Arabic, then turned his attention back to me. "I think we will be going now."

"Will you stay here?"

"No, I will look for my peoples. Someone might know where they have gone."

"When was the last time you saw them?"

"Five years ago."

Curiosity won out over politeness. "How did you get separated from your family?" I asked, but my question was drowned out by a scream from somewhere near the kitchen, followed by Mother's voice. "Theodosia Elizabeth Throckmorton! Come get this cat! At once!"

"We is definitely going now." Gadji hurried to the window and hoisted himself up onto the sill.

"You can use the door," I said.

He flashed a grin. "This is being quicker," he said, then disappeared.

"Theodosia!"

"Coming, Mother!" I called back, then hurried to retrieve Isis from whomever she was terrorizing.

***

The next morning after breakfast, Mother set out for the British consul office to check in with the Inspector of Upper Egypt. Nabir was off finalizing the work crew, and Habiba was doing something in the small, hot kitchen. I had assured Mother I would be happy to entertain myself, without actually specifying
how.
But of course, I had a visit of my own to pay, to Major Harriman Grindle, Supervisor of Security in Upper Egypt and my Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers contact here in Luxor.