Theodosia and the Last Pharoah (21 page)

Before I could so much as squeak out a "Help!" Nabir was at my side, grabbing hold of the runaway donkey and taking the saddle from me.

"I'm sorry," I said in a small, defeated voice. "I was only trying to help."

"I know. Missy has kind heart, but Nabir will do it. It is easier that way."

Frustrated in my attempt to be able to wait until Nabir was finished with the donkeys, I vowed to come back after dinner and see if I could find any hint of where Gadji had gone.

The house was cool and dark, a welcome relief after the blinding heat of the day. I walked into my room, then froze. There was a note on my bed.

On my pillow, to be exact.

A chill of foreboding ran through me, as well as a sense of violation. I was getting heartily sick of people tramping through my room without permission.

With trembling hands I plucked the note from my pillow, cracked the black wax seal, and began to read.

If you wish to see the young pharaoh alive, you must bring the Emerald Tablet to the altar of Khons in the Seti Chapel at Karnak by midnight tonight.

There was no signature, just a picture of a black coiling snake.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

A Rescue Is Being Thought Of

M
Y HANDS BEGAN TO SHAKE.
The Serpents of Chaos had Gadji. But how had they even
known
about him?

"Theo!" Mother called through the door, making me jump. "Some of us are quite hungry. Do hurry."

"Yes, Mother," I said automatically. I washed in record time and threw on a clean frock as my mind raced in a thousand different directions.

Mother was already waiting at the table when I arrived. She gave Habiba the signal to begin serving.

"You look all fresh and clean, dear," Mother said, taking a sip from her goblet.

"Um, yes. It felt good to get rid of the day's dust," I said, settling into my chair.

Habiba put plates in front of Mother and me, then withdrew. Fear for Gadji's safety had taken up residence in my stomach and there was no room for anything else. I had no idea how I was going to manage to eat a bite.

Mother, however, was famished and plowed through her plate like a drayman, making small talk all the while. I tried to pay attention and answer in the right places, but I failed miserably.

"Theo," Mother finally said a bit sharply.

"Yes?"

"Are you not feeling well again? You've hardly touched your supper. And look, your hands are trembling."

I quickly set the fork down and placed my hands in my lap, out of sight. "My arms are just tired, that's all."

"But you're flushed," she exclaimed.

I desperately needed some excuse for my condition, which meant I had no choice but to claim illness. "Well, perhaps I am feeling a trifle off."

"Oh, really, Theo!" Mother's voice was filled with equal parts concern and exasperation. "This isn't going to work at all if you're going to get sunstroke every time I take you to the dig." She frowned. "You were wearing your hat the whole time, weren't you?"

Feeling wretched, I said, "Yes, Mother. I was. I'm terribly sorry. I'm sure it's just a matter of me getting used to the change in weather. A good night's sleep will put me right as rain." I forced a fake yawn, just for good measure. "In fact, may I please be excused? I'd like to turn in early for the night so I will be fully rested for tomorrow."

"Very well," Mother said with a sigh. "I need to write down my notes for today's work, anyway." We got up and left the dining room together. She turned down the hallway to her room, but I did not go immediately to mine. It was time for me and Habiba to have a little talk.

I found Habiba in the kitchen. Her black sleeves were rolled up and she was washing up the supper dishes. The small room was hot and stifling and her face above her veil was damp and red with heat. I felt a pang of sympathy for her but pushed it aside. Gadji's life could be at stake. "Who do you work for, Habiba?" I asked.

She gave me a sidelong look. "I work for young miss's mother."

"Then where do you sneak off to all the time?"

The small bit of skin that showed turned pale, then red again. "Young miss does not know what she is talking about," she said, her voice strained.

I decided to try to catch her off-guard. "What have you done with Gadji?"

"Who?"

"The donkey boy in the stable. What have you done with him?"

She looked mortally offended. "I? I have done nothing with him. Who says I have?"

"He is missing, Habiba, and I think you told some very bad men he was staying here and they came and took him away."

"No! This is not true!" Her eyes grew worried.

"Then tell me where you go when you leave here, because otherwise I'll have to assume you are meeting those very bad men."

I felt horrid, almost as though I were bullying the poor woman, but she was the only clue I had.

She glanced toward the doorway.

"Mother's gone back to her room," I told her. "She can't hear you."

Habiba nodded. "Very well. But young miss has secrets of her own, does she not?"

"I do," I said, "but they do not involve kidnapping anyone."

"Neither do mine! No, no. I do not nap the kid, as you say. I am merely going to meetings, that is all."

A vision of my meetings with the Arcane Order of the Black Sun flashed immediately to mind. "What sort of meetings?" I asked.

"Meetings of Egyptians," she said softly. "Meetings where we talk, but that is all, young miss. We just talk."

"What do you talk about?" I asked.

She glanced around the room once more, then back to me. Her black eyes were filled with worry. "Young miss must not tell anyone—not her mother, no one. Understand?"

"Well, I most likely won't tell my mother," I said, "if that makes you feel any better." I was hoping she wouldn't notice how I had evaded the part about not telling
anyone.

"I go to the meeting where we talk of Egyptians being in charge of our own land. Where we talk of being in charge of our own selves. I meet with those who would have Egyptians rule over Egyptians so that we are no longer lap dogs of you
Inglaize.
"

I blinked in surprise. I had been expecting a confession that she worked for von Braggenschnott. Or that she was possibly a sleeper agent for the wedjadeen. "You mean you are attending meetings of the Egyptian nationalist movement?"

"Shh! Yes, yes, exactly so. This is the meetings I go to, nothing more."

I found I believed her. It explained so much, and not just about her comings and goings, but about the small knots of Egyptians I'd seen huddling here and there, talking in low voices and watching me with great suspicion. "But why?" I asked, genuinely curious. "We do not hurt you in any way, do we?"

Seeing that I believed her, she appeared to relax a little. "Why does young miss sneak away and do things on her own?"

Not sure where she was going with this, I said, "Well, there are things I need to do that my mother disagrees with."

"Young miss does not like having her mother make all her decisions for her, no? Telling her where she can go and when. Who she can see and for how long. Does young miss like having no control over her own life? How she lives it and what she does with it?"

"Well, no, of course not!"

"And that is how it is with the
Inglaize
in charge of our country. They are always making the important decisions—how much, how long, who has power over what. And you can be sure that us Egyptians are never on the good side of that trade. No, we are to take what we are given and be grateful, no matter that you
Inglaize
take from our country what you like."

Honestly, when she put it like that, how could one
not
belong to the nationalist movement? "I see what you mean, Habiba. It's not fair that you should have to be a child in your own country."

She blinked at me in surprise. "Young miss will not tell her mother? Most
Inglaize
do not like us to talk so."

"I will not tell my mother. But did you by any chance see the donkey boy today?"

She shook her head. "No, young miss. I did not see him at all."

"Very well. Thank you. And, er, good luck with your meetings."

***

Once back in the privacy of my own room, I let my shoulders slump as I gave in to the despair I felt. I looked immediately to the bed, my heart lifting when I saw that Isis had returned and was curled up near my pillow. I threw myself down next to her, earning a disgruntled look as my movement jounced her a bit.

"Don't be angry with me," I told her. "I've got quite a lot on my plate, thank you very much." She gave me a bored look and began washing herself. Well, honestly. I knew Gadji and Sefu hadn't been her favorite people, but really. She could at least pretend to care. For my sake.

As I saw it, I had no choice but to go to Major Grindle for help. However, he had told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to travel through the city alone. But how was I to get a message to him? We hadn't talked about that. Or maybe he'd assumed I'd use Gadji.

There was no other choice. I would simply have to risk the major's wrath and hope he'd understand.

Thus resolved, I changed into sturdier clothes for my journey and used the rest of my wardrobe to create a decoy shape in my bed again. If Mother thought I was ill, she might decide to check on me during the night. If the lights were off and she didn't come all the way into the room to feel my forehead, this deception would work. If not, well, the fat would really be in the fire then.

Just as I was putting the finishing touches on the covers, Isis arched her back and hissed at the window.

Already jumpy, I whirled around as a small creature catapulted through the shutters with an unholy screech. I got my arms up in front of my face just in time for them to catch the brunt of the creature's assault. I braced myself for the bite of teeth and the rending of flesh. Instead, I was subjected to clinging little hands with surprisingly strong fingers and a wrinkled little face poking into mine, scolding and chattering loud enough to wake the dead.

Sefu! I nearly laughed with relief.

He was nearly beside himself with agitation. "Shh. Calm down," I whispered, as Isis circled my feet, looking up at Sefu and hissing periodically.

The monkey seemed to understand and managed to lower his chattering. He didn't stop plucking at my sleeve, though, and kept looking back toward the window. "Do you know where he is?" I asked.

Sefu bobbed his head up and down.

"Really? You understand me?"

He chattered and plucked at my sleeve again, then leaped back onto the windowsill and waited. "All right. I'm coming. But I need to make a side trip first. I'm going to need some help."

He screeched and flailed his arms at me.

"I mean, help other than what you can offer me," I quickly explained. Annoyed that I was paying so much attention to this miserable creature, Isis leaped toward the window, feinting a swipe in the monkey's direction. "Stop that," I scolded. "Wait a minute! How would you like to go on an outing?" I asked her. "A midnight outing?"

Isis turned away from Sefu, looked at me, then flicked her tail. Perfect. I would not be traveling through the city alone after all.

***

Isis did not take kindly to being put on a leash. However, once I explained to her that she would not be able to protect me if she was in her wicker basket, she submitted to the long sash I had hastily fashioned.

Sefu, on the other hand, wouldn't even come to me, much less let me carry him. He scampered around my room in his agitated state, anxious for us to get moving. He was not going to be happy when he discovered I wasn't planning on following him right away.

It was too risky to try to sneak out through the door, so instead I lifted Isis to the windowsill and climbed up next to her. Holding her safely in my arms, I dropped the few feet to the dirt below, grateful that the only sound was a faint crunch beneath my boots.

With every nerve on edge and my stomach coiled tightly with fear for Gadji, I began making my way through the darkened streets of Luxor to Major Grindle's bungalow.

Luxor was an entirely different place in the dark; all traces of charm and quaintness were chased away by darkness and shadows. Faraway laughter sounded sinister, and the squat, tattered buildings took on a threatening aspect, as if they were haunted. Isis carefully steered me away from groups of reveling British tourists enjoying the sights at night as well as the group of local men who watched them with ill-disguised hostility. But that wasn't even the worst part.

During the daylight hours, I had only been aware of the beneficent power of the gods that lingered in the ancient ruins. But at night, in the dark, those same ruins gave off something else entirely. Now they pulsed with several millennia's worth of accumulated dark magic and fragments of curses. They themselves weren't cursed, but rather, it appeared they acted as a lodestone for all the malevolent forces that lingered in the city. Perhaps pieces or bits of ancient curses from the artifacts that passed through, or the lingering
mut
or
akhu
from so many nearby ancient tombs. Either way, it was a distinctly unnerving sensation.