Sands of Time (Out of Time #6) (26 page)

“So not actual magic?” Jack said, his eyes shifting anxiously to Simon and Elizabeth. “Just ceremonies.”

Whiteside smiled. “Oh, no. The Egyptians were renowned in the ancient world for their magic. Sorcerers’ duels, secret names, curses, scarabs of immortality, they had the lot.”

Jack frowned. “But you don’t mean they actually believed—”

“I do. Of course, no doubt some simply employed legerdemain, trickery, but there are descriptions of feats beyond explanation. Great magicians. Powerful necromancers.”

Elizabeth and Simon exchanged worried glances. Simon had been convinced that Vale, when they knew her as Madame Petrovka, was no more than a clever charlatan, but Elizabeth was never quite convinced. She’d felt things, heard things, she couldn’t explain. And now, after their experience with Mary Stewart in Natchez, she knew firsthand what was possible and what wasn’t when it came to communing with spirits. If Vale really could speak with the dead…Elizabeth shivered.

“The other items?” Simon asked. She could see he was as disturbed at the prospect as she was. “Do they point to anything in particular?”

Whiteside frowned in thought. “Are you sure this is proper? I trust you, Diana, all of you,” he added glancing around the room. “But I do feel a little uncomfortable with this.”

Impatient, and trying not to be, Simon stood and walked over to the window of their suite.

“Arthur,” Diana said, moving to sit next to him, “you know that I’m not the sort given to flights of fancy and I don’t scare easily.”

Whiteside chuckled. “No.”

Diana smiled at some shared memory. “There is something about this woman, Arthur. Something…wrong. I know you’ve sensed it. I don’t know what she’s up to, but I think we’d damn well better find out. And right now, our best hope of doing that is you.”

Whiteside took a deep breath and nodded, accepting his charge. “I’ll do what I can. Now, about that necklace…”

“It had the head of a lioness,” Jack said.

“Sekhmet most likely,” Whiteside said.

“And this sort of…” Jack put both of his hands on his chest and then pulled them apart and slightly up.

“A collar,” Diana said.

Whiteside nodded. “An aegis. It’s sometimes called a broad collar. One of this sort could be used as protection for the spell caster.”

“An aegis,” Elizabeth repeated to herself. “Where did I—”

“The museum!” Simon said as he paced back over to the sitting area. “That first day, Jouvet mentioned that one had been stolen.”

“That’s where I saw it,” Diana said, slapping her leg with the realization. “The plot thickens.”

Whiteside fiddled with his glasses and pursed his lips. “And this copper plate, you mentioned. Did the handle have a face on it with sort of drooping horns?”

“Yeah.”

Whiteside nodded. “Hathor’s mirror. Sekhmet is an aspect of Hathor. The mirror is supposed to reflect your power, increase it. There are several magical papyri that have spells utilizing the mirrors for scrying, divination.”

Elizabeth felt a lead weight settle in her stomach like a bad burrito.

“And the other wax figure?” Simon asked.

Whiteside frowned. “They were commonly used in curses or spells against your enemies.”

She and Simon certainly qualified there, Elizabeth thought. Why make the doll of just the man? Was she after Simon specifically for some reason? She hated the idea of either of them being a voodoo doll in Vale’s house of crazy.

Elizabeth glanced over at her husband and could see the wheels spinning in his mind, turning over the question.

Whiteside frowned and stroked his chin. “I am troubled by the athame, the dagger and chalice though.”

“Daggers are never good,” Elizabeth said.

Whiteside smiled kindly. “No, but in this case doubly so, I’m afraid. You see sacrifices weren’t uncommon. Typically, bulls and small animals.”

He sighed and continued. “However, the goddess Sekhmet has an unusual proclivity.”

His usually jovial face grew quite serious. “According to legend, the God Ra believed man was plotting against him and so he sent Sekhmet to destroy humanity. She cut and maimed and disemboweled nearly all of the men of earth, until the few survivors begged for mercy. Ra granted it, but Sekhmet’s savagery once started could not be stopped.”

Elizabeth had a sinking feeling.

“Ra cast beer, tinted with red ochre, onto the land and into the Nile,” Whiteside continued. “Thinking it was blood, Sekhmet drank until she could be subdued. However, her thirst was never sated. And some say the only way to summon her is by offering her blood. Human blood.”

~ ~ ~

Whiteside’s words echoed in Elizabeth’s mind. It was hard not to think of them. Blood sacrifices sort of stick with a person. Elizabeth felt a tingle along her breastbone and shivered.

“All right?” Simon asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back as they navigated their way through the crowded vestibule toward the requisite cocktails before dinner.

“Just thinking about what Arthur said.”

Simon grunted in agreement. “Yes, vivid imagery. Blood lust and revenge. That, unfortunately, sounds right up Vale’s alley, doesn’t it?”

Elizabeth saw the Everetts by the long bar and led Simon in the other direction.

Vale had been fixated on vengeance before. That sort of deep-seated hatred didn’t just fade away. It was nurtured.

“Do you think she went to all of this trouble for us?” Elizabeth asked. “I mean, why not just…”

“Kill us?” Simon said.

Elizabeth tried to shush him, but he just smiled.

“Saying it doesn’t make it come true,” he said.

Elizabeth wanted to argue that it might and why chance it, but Simon had already moved on to something else.

“There’s one thing that bothers me,” he said.

“Just one?”

He gave her a wry smile before continuing. “The blond hair. If the fifth figure is supposed to be me…”

“Unless it’s not you,” Elizabeth said as she realized the obvious. “This is about revenge, but maybe not against us. There’s someone she hates even more.”

“Graham.” Simon paused and then looked around. Nodding toward an empty spot on the veranda, he put his hand on the small of her back and urged her toward it.

“If it is Graham she’s after,” he said softly. “Why come here?”

“Because she couldn’t find him anywhere else,” Elizabeth said, the pieces falling into place. “Travers said Graham was running for his life. What if she tried to find him, but couldn’t.”

Simon nodded thoughtfully. “The Council sends her here to retrieve the watch and she seizes on the opportunity to use her ‘powers’ to find the man that betrayed her.”

“Now, that sounds like the woman I know and fear.”

Simon laughed lightly. “Yes, it does. She spent years crafting her revenge on Graham only to be thwarted—”

“By us,” Elizabeth reminded him unnecessarily.

Simon frowned. “We are betrayers,” he said. “In her mind, at least.”

That was what the cult member in the jail had called them. When you make enemies, Elizabeth thought, try to avoid the rich, powerful, lunatic kind.

“Well,” Simon said, “whatever trickery she used to get here, the involvement of the cult and the objects Jack and Diana found point to something more troubling than simply retrieving one of the lost watches.”

Elizabeth paused while the waiter took their drink order. Once he was gone, she leaned forward. “I wish you’d let me carry the watch some.”

Simon laughed, but not unkindly. His eyes moved up and down her body, appreciating the sheer silk of her dress and the way it clung to her figure. “And you’d put it exactly where?”

Elizabeth pouted. “Ok, but still. I feel like it makes you a target.”

Simon took her hand. He smiled, grateful for her concern, but melancholy as well. “Even without the watch…”

They were still targets. They might not be on the top of the hit list, but they were still in the top three. And, despite everything they’d learned, Vale was still one step ahead of them.

They both fell into a thoughtful silence and the cocktail party swirled around them, joyful and blissfully unaware. A small orchestra started to play and the hum of voices increased as more people poured into the parlor bar and veranda.

Elizabeth took a sip of her Gin Rickey and tried to stop dwelling on things she couldn’t change and start looking for things she could. That’s when she noticed Ahmed.

He was standing at the top of the steps looking out over the garden, clearly searching for someone. A couple paused as they passed and the men shook hands. Ahmed smiled graciously as they exchanged pleasantries and then went right back to his search.

He scanned the garden intently and Elizabeth knew exactly when he’d found what he was looking for. His entire posture changed. He gripped the top rail of the balustrade and his chest heaved as he let out an enormous sigh.

Elizabeth followed his line of sight. Christina.

Ahmed started down the steps, but was briefly distracted by another greeting. When he turned his attention back to Christina, the moment or his courage seemed lost. He looked down into his drink and then turned away, and leaned against the large pillar at the top of the steps and pressed his head back into the marble.

“Back in a sec,” Elizabeth said.

Simon looked like he was about to ask where she was going, but saw her glance in Ahmed’s direction and sighed. “Elizabeth…”

She arched her eyebrows in feigned innocence. “Just going to say hello.”

Simon raised his hand to argue, all the reasons she shouldn’t ready on his lips, but from the look in her eyes he knew it was a losing cause and settled for a resigned shake of his head.

Elizabeth kissed his cheek and then crossed the veranda to where Ahmed stood looking absolutely, Shakespearean-level forlorn.

“Hello again,” Elizabeth said.

Ahmed jumped to attention as if he’d been stuck with a cattle prod. He cleared his throat. “Hello, Mrs. Cross.”

First things first. “Why were you meeting with Katherine Vale today?”

His eyebrows shot up. “How did you—”

Her gut told her he wasn’t involved in anything other than regular business things, but she had to be sure. “Are you working for her?”

She watched and carefully gauged his reaction.

“Yes, well, for the museum and the antiquities department for the dig.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Aside from being confused, he was telling the truth. She’d bet her life on it. In fact, she realized, she was. And not just hers. “Avoid Vale as much as you can. She’s not someone you want in your life,” Elizabeth said.

Still confused, he nodded.

“Unlike someone else,” Elizabeth said, her eyes finding Christina in the garden.

His gaze followed hers and instantly got that gauzy, far away look that young lovers and sick kittens got.

Elizabeth slipped her arm through his and led him away from the high traffic area near the steps. “I know it’s none of my business,” she said, “but that’s really never stopped me before, so I’m going to stick my nose in. You can tell me to bugger off, but I’d say you owe me enough to hear me out.”

Ahmed nodded, still baffled.

“Why did you break up with Christina?” she asked. “You broke her heart, you know?”

“I did not want that,” he said earnestly. “I just…I could see no other way.”

“Do you love her?”

Ahmed frowned. “You are very direct.”

Elizabeth shrugged. “And also interfering, but that doesn’t answer my question. Do you love her?”

She could see him debate whether to walk away or accept her help. After a long moment, he sighed. “With all my heart.”

Elizabeth laid a hand on his forearm. “Then there’s
always
a way.”

Ahmed smiled and shook his head. “Even if she forgave me, her father would never accept me.”

“He’s not so bad—”

Ahmed held up his hand. “I did not mean to say he was. He is a good man, who does not think I am good enough for his daughter.”

Elizabeth felt for him. He was right about Arthur. But there was one trump card in that. “He loves her as much as you do. In the end, that will win out over everything else.”

Hope sparked in his eyes and he looked out into the garden. “Do you think there’s really a chance she might forgive me?”

“It won’t be easy.” Elizabeth remembered her own broken heart. She’d stomped around New York with it dangling from her sleeve. “You’ll have to grovel.”

“I will.”

“A lot.”

A smile danced on the edges of his eyes. “I would do anything.”

“Start with I’m sorry, and end with I love you,” Elizabeth said. “And let your heart fill in the gaps in between.”

Ahmed grinned. “Yes. Thank you.”

He started toward the stairs, but stopped. “Are all American women as…”

“Bossy?” Elizabeth supplied.

He laughed. “Outspoken as you are?”

“If they’re from Texas, probably,” Elizabeth said with a grin. “Now, go on.”

Ahmed nodded and hurried to the stairs, passing Simon on the way.

“Have you finished meddling?” Simon said as he joined her and watched Ahmed approach Christina. “Our table is ready.”

Elizabeth gave him a sour look and turned to watch the fruits of her labor as Ahmed spoke with Christina. She’d moved to walk away as soon as he approached, but he reached out to her and, reluctantly, she’d stayed.

From the looks of things, he was groveling and she was listening. It was a start.

“Young love,” someone said behind her.

Elizabeth couldn’t suppress the chill that ran through her at the sound of Katherine Vale’s voice. She and Simon turned to find Vale standing just a few feet away. Elizabeth felt Simon’s arm slip around her back.

Vale sauntered over to the railing. “So life affirming, isn’t it?” she said and then turned. “Except of course, when it rips your heart out.”

She smiled again and Elizabeth could feel the crazy coming off her.

“Her father adores her,” Vale said, gazing out at Christina again.

“You’ll excuse us,” Simon said, and started to usher Elizabeth away.

“What about you?” Vale asked casually before they could leave. “Did you try to have children? And fail?”