I was amazed. Delighted, even. My demon really was in quite an unusual mood. A generous one, and though I could not understand why, I was grateful for it.
And I could not deny that I liked seeing Oliver happy. It made my heart warm—even more so because my best friend was at my side and an Egyptian sun beamed down upon us.
So as the carriage rattled to a start, I shifted my body toward him, and I smiled.
And Oliver smiled his beautiful smile back.
CHAPTER TEN
We found a British apothecary easily enough and spent all our remaining money on bandages, a scarificator, and bloodletting cups. Allison was like a child in a toy shop, and had I not forcibly yanked her out, she easily could have spent ten hours examining the various scarificators and newest salves.
The sun was just setting when we headed back out through Cairo, aiming west. I was able to forget the poor horse’s plight—and how blasted uncomfortable my dress was—for the closer we came to the Nile, the thicker traffic grew.
“Why are there so many people out?” I leaned over the carriage’s side—and was almost clipped by a camel. “The streets were busy earlier, but this is madness!”
“The adhan will begin soon,” Oliver answered. At our vacant-eyed stares, he explained, “The muezzin call.” We continued to stare dumbly. “Egads, ladies, the call to prayer in Islam. It happens five times a day, and sunset is one of those times. A man will stand atop a minaret and shout ‘God is greatest’ so that our faithful Muslim friends may hurry to the mosques to pray.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, watching the passersby with new interest. I could rattle off Shakespeare as if the words were engraved in my skull, but when it came to the world’s religions, I was woefully ignorant. Just as we clattered onto a bridge flanked by two huge lions that ran over the Nile, the adhan did begin . . . and my heart lifted.
“Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar,” shouted muezzins all over the city—hundreds of them, and everyone around us picked up their paces.
I caught Allison’s eyes. She grinned. Then Jie smiled that smug, cat-like of smile of hers, and I let my own lips curve up. I could briefly release some of the darkness that always clotted my lungs. I could let it float away on the Nile breeze and pretend I was simply me again.
It took our driver a solid half hour to navigate what was actually a short distance to the Bulaq district—and if we thought the crowds were bad, it was nothing compared to the droves of bugs coming out for twilight feasting.
“Can’t you make them go away?” Allison cried, smacking a mosquito off her wrist. “With your magic or something.” She threw me a pleading glance.
I gulped. At the word magic, the old hunger had awakened in my stomach. Instinctively, I reached for my pocket . . . but of course I wore a dress now. I had slipped the ivory fist into my bodice, so I could hardly grope for it.
Allison slapped a fly on her neck. “We will be eaten alive before we even reach the party!”
She was right, of course. Small, itchy bumps speckled our flesh by the time we pulled to a stop before the Bulaq Museum, and Jie’s fingers seemed permanently fastened to her scalp with all the scratching.
“Well,” Oliver grumbled, eying Allison and me with disapproval as we disembarked from the carriage toward a building of yellow and umber sandstone, “you certainly will not be the cleanest girls at the party, but hopefully the quality of the gowns and the prettiness of your faces”—he pinched my cheeks with an almost vicious force—“will more than compensate.”
“Ouch.” I slapped his hand away, my cheeks stinging . . . but the pain almost instantly vanished from thought. For I now had a full view of the museum.
It was guarded by two enormous statues, both wearing the typical ancient Egyptian headdress and garb. Spotlights shone brightly on them, illuminating their weathered edges and severe expressions. A breeze whispered through palm trees and then over us, drying sweat and soothing bug bites.
Several guests milled about outside—suited men speaking in low voices or Egyptians tending carriages and horses—but the bulk of sounds came from within the museum.
I turned to Jie. “Will you be all right waiting here with him?” I glanced at Oliver.
“Yeah,” she said simply, following my gaze. Then an almost wicked smile spread over her lips. “In fact, I have a few questions to ask Mr. McIntosh. Now seems a good time, when it’s just the two of us.”
I frowned, not liking the sound of that, but then Allison shot me a panicked look. “We are late. Everyone will see us arriving, and we look hideous, Eleanor.” As if to prove the point, she gave an indelicate scratch at a mosquito bite on her collarbone.