He was about to wave Penny forward when a door opened on the far side of the temple chamber. Malcolm leapt from the dais and sprinted back to Penny. He slid the last six feet back to her as she crouched anxiously behind a great lotus pillar. She made to exclaim something, but Malcolm motioned her to silence. Penny bit her lower lip tight and pulled him in close beside her.
Far across the sandy floor, Mr. Mansfield and Nephthys entered. The ambassador held a whiskey decanter in his hands along with a glass filled to the brim. The decanter was less than half-full, suggesting he was well into an inebriated state. Nephthys wore a long black cloak that swept the floor. She looked very much like a goddess painted onto an ancient tomb. Nephthys clutched the ebony box tightly against her chest. The box shuddered violently. Whatever was inside was trying to get out.
The demon queen marched purposefully to the dais and climbed up two steps. She set the box on the altar, and her lips moved, whispering to the agitated thing within. Her bluish hand opened and closed in an odd motion, almost as if she were signaling. The sand floor of the chamber suddenly undulated and a mound like a burrowing animal came at extraordinary speed straight at her. A second mound appeared and roared toward the altar from another direction. They both stopped at the base of the dais. She held out her hand, palm downward. The mounds shivered and two large shapes rose, with sand pouring off them.
Penny nearly gasped at the sight of the huge snake-creatures, but Malcolm placed a calming hand on her arm. He gave her a confident wink that he didn’t completely feel.
Chapter Twenty-five
Nephthys gathered her dark cloak closer about her like a shroud and spoke to her husband without looking at him. “Do try not to drink yourself into oblivion just now. Too much depends on our success.”
Mr. Mansfield drained the glass of whiskey in his hand, but he dutifully placed the glass and decanter on a bust of Hathor. Nephthys scowled at his irreverence.
“Eternity beckons me.” Nephthys gazed out over the temple. “I am the lynchpin of his endeavor.”
Mansfield’s face boiled red. “Without me, my dear, you wouldn’t be able to accomplish your work. Or his.”
“Yes, yes. You’ve been a valuable commodity, like a wagon or a coal scuttle. You must be so proud.”
Mansfield sneered drunkenly and his drawl grew ever more rustic. “Don’t forget, I’m the one who spent years with him traveling out in the wilds of the Louisiana Territory. I stood around while he dug in the dirt and picked up rocks and talked to every damn Indian he could find. Now I’ve always been interested in the arcane. I saw root doctors down South do some mysterious things. But I saw Gaios do things that even New Orleans witches said only God could do.”
From behind their column, Penny gaped at Malcolm with wide eyes and mouthed the word “Gaios.” The hunter tried to look unmoved, but lifted his pistol and took comfort in its weight.
Nephthys regarded Ambassador Mansfield with surprise. “So, tool, do you know what Gaios is planning?”
“Honey, I got no idea what he’s planning. Just like you don’t know. He doesn’t tell anyone what he’s thinking. We all have jobs and he puts it all together. We’re just the pawns that run around helping him gather his precious artifacts like”—he jabbed an accusatory finger at the simple box that contained the Skin of Ra—“that damn thing.”
“Which I found for him.” Nephthys stroked the ebony box.
“Well, most of what he has now, I bought for him. He owes me.”
She waved dismissively. “If that’s all you care about, you’ll get what you’re owed. Once he settles his score here in Britain, we’ll all get what we’re owed. Now be quiet. Your sniping pains my head. I must prepare. I need utter silence to meditate.”
The ambassador laughed with contempt before falling against an elaborately carved column. “I could use some entertainment about now. Please proceed with whatever production you are going to undertake.”
Nephthys glared at him, joined by the snake-creatures, whose narrow eyes bored into Mansfield. “Careful, Ambassador. My chnoubis don’t care for you. Perhaps less than I.”
“I’m not afraid of your pets. I’ve dealt with snakes my whole life. Get on with it.”
The black shape of Nephthys drifted around the dais almost as if she floated. “This magic is only revealed to the high priests of Ra.”
“So you’re a high priest of Ra now?” Mr. Mansfield threw his head back and guffawed. “You’re a miserable conjurer who got famous because Pendragon threw you in prison. And the only reason you act so important is because you’re the only one willing to risk using the Skin of Ra. Not even Gaios himself would do it. That either makes you the most stalwart or the most foolish.”
“It is my birthright. I’m Egyptian.”