It was wonderful dining with you. Please allow me to beg your pardon for my brother’s astonishing behavior. I hope you know that my husband and I respect your efforts and work at the museum, despite what Ricardo might imply. I greatly fear that he’s become involved with disreputable individuals associated with illegal activities here in Cairo. Please see the enclosed card.
This is indeed what I fear, correct?
Would it be possible if I might visit you at your office? I must speak with you further about this matter. I’m in desperate need of guidance and assistance.
Yours etc.,
Lourdes Olivera
My attention narrowed to one line. One line that made me feel like I’d been struck down by a fist. The words swam across my vision, each letter a knife to my gut.
. . . involved with disreputable individuals associated with illegal activities . . .
My God, what was my uncle involved in? Who were these disreputable individuals? I slumped to the ground, tears pricking my eyes. I read the letter again and the words blurred together as I pulled out a small square-shaped card, soft to the touch and thick. On one side, an illustration of a gate was debossed on the expensive paper. And on the other, three lines of text printed in black ink.
GEZIRA SPORTING CLUB
24TH OF JULY
3 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING
Mamá had found this card months ago. I’d not heard of the sporting club, but scheduling an event? a meeting? in the early hours of the morning felt suspicious. I flipped the card again, studying the design intently. My sketchbook was within reach, and I quickly copied the sketch of the gate.
It appeared to be a simple sketch of the entrance of an Egyptian temple. I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. My breath rushed out of me again as the implication of what I’d read rattled my bones.
Had Mamá thought Tío Ricardo a criminal?
Capítulo Once
To hell with leaving Egypt.
Not until I knew what had happened to Mamá and Papá. My uncle wanted to pack me off, for me to go meekly back to Argentina, to leave my questions unanswered, while he involved himself in criminal activities? Anger blew through my body as if riding a harsh wind. He thought he could make me disappear?
I wouldn’t go quietly.
No, I needed to find a way to board the Elephantine. Preferably before he dumped me onto a train heading for Alexandria. I thought hard, discarding one idea after another, Mr. Hayes’s words swimming in my mind. He’d told me they were heading to the dahabeeyah tonight, leaving the docks at . . . I scrunched my brow. What was the name of the dock?
Bulaq.
That had been it.
I flew into action, my mind racing with thoughts of anything I might possibly need for the journey. Bringing my luggage would most likely slow me down, but I could stuff some clothing and supplies into my bag. I layered my current dress over a spare one, along with a pair of Turkish trousers underneath both skirts. It was hardly comfortable, but I would need a change of clothes eventually.
That done, I cast my eye to my next task.
Colette had certainly worked efficiently. My bed had been made, my trunks stacked neatly on top of one another. I had precious minutes to undo everything she had done. Moving quickly, I threw open the lids and pulled out a medium-sized canvas bag. I’d originally packed it thinking it might be useful for living on-site while my uncle excavated. If anyone were to see me carrying it around along with my purse, I had the perfect excuse lined up. It would serve as my overnight bag in Alexandria.
I rushed to the desk and grabbed a blank sheet, quickly making a list of everything I would need. Papá and I had both been fond of them.
I had much to pack, and I hoped that I could fit everything I needed. When I had looked over my parents’ belongings, I had seen several useful items, no doubt meant for living in tents out in the desert. The things I needed were scattered around their bedroom and I rushed to collect all of the items, stuffing everything inside my purse when my fingers brushed against a rough surface.
The echo of magic pulsed, widening in a large, invisible ripple.
My purchase from the bazaar.
I dug farther and pulled out the trinket box, careful not to touch the wood. It swayed in front of me, the whisper of something pulling me forward. I blinked, thought hard, and then looked again in my bag to pull out Papá’s switchblade. With extreme care, I cut along the seam, and the encrusted dirt fell away.
The magic inside called to me, and I instinctively understood that it was looking for something. I recalled Mr. Hayes’s words, how magic sought out its likeness. I took a fortifying breath and continued to slice through the grime. Another half inch and—
The wooden box split.
A cold hiss rushed around me, grazing against my skin. Goosebumps flared up and down my arms. I instinctively shut my eyes against the freeze. In the flat black, a woman crossed my vision. She wore a long, gauzy dress and her sandals glinted on her feet, bejeweled and elegant. Slowly, pieces from her surroundings came into view. A long chaise set in a gilded chamber ornate with potted flowers. The smell of flowers rose sharply in my mind. The woman walked to her balcony overlooking the long line of a blue coast.
Someone spoke from behind her.
Joy detonated within her. The woman spun away, her face regal and striking, but not beautiful. She wore her hair long and dark and it swung across her shoulders as she ran from the room.
The moment faded and the chill slipped away from me.
The box sat harmlessly in my hands. Nothing had changed; it was still grimy and old. The carvings near faded. But I had seen something. A memory belonging to a woman from the ancient world. Who had I seen?
Perhaps there was more to the trinket.
I eagerly looked inside, but there was nothing. It might have held something long ago, and whatever it was had long fallen out. My shoulders slumped. I brushed my finger inside and jumped. Whatever had been locked inside had held powerful magic. It sang to me, a loud roar that rang in my ears. Beckoned me. Tasted familiar. The flavor made me think of ancient things. Of temples grounded on amber-hued sand. A woman strolling out on her terrace, a falcon trailing after her, watching over her. The lush scent of the garden in bloom. Flowers bursting in lavish color. Her mouth tasted like roses.
The golden ring had made me feel the same way.
Cleopatra.
Had I really seen her? My breath came out in a long exhale. I stared down at the wooden box in complete shock, my thoughts racing through my mind. Perhaps the golden ring had once been inside. It made sense why the magic felt so familiar. It seemed highly improbable that I would have found another item that had belonged to the last pharaoh of Egypt. And yet, I had.
I didn’t understand why.
A loud knock ruptured my thoughts. I blinked, as the shadowy presence evaporated, leaving behind a trace of her like lingering perfume. A woman who preferred roses, who wore pearls in her hair. Quickly, I tucked the wooden box inside my bag. Another sharp knock. It must be the man Sallam had sent up to help with my luggage. But when I opened the door, the person who stood on the other side wasn’t a hotel employee.
I clutched the door handle, and my words came out brittle. “Tío Ricardo.”