What the River Knows (Secrets of the Nile, #1)

Mr. Fincastle smiled coldly. “But true, regardless.”

My blood ran cold. Had my inheritance paid for all this? Another thought slammed into me. Patrons. My mind spun. They were talking about my parents—who had funded this entire enterprise. Dark spots swam at the corners of my vision. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? My knees shook and I used the wall to keep me upright.

Thanks to my parents’ deaths, my uncle had all the money in the world.





Capítulo Catorce


The next morning, the wind continued to push us upstream, much to the relief of the rowing crew. The sails billowed outward, resembling full bellies, propelling us past extraordinary monuments, golden in hue and half torn down. On either side of the Elephantine the sandbanks stretched at both ends, a never-ending scroll filled with picturesque scenes of ancient temples and fishermen sitting in their small boats, throwing out nets. Kareem named all the villages we passed.

Some were mud-walled, surrounded by marshes, and others appeared more stately with squat buildings overlooking the sharp green of the water. It spread like a vein to the rest of the land, and I understood why the river was revered in Egypt. It gave life and sustenance, it carried one to adventure and discovery, and it also brought you home. Kareem taught me the names of the gods associated with the Nile; Hapi, the god of flooding, Sobek, the god of the river crocodiles, Anuket, goddess of the Nile’s cataracts.

“You know a lot about ancient Egyptian religion,” I told him.

“Only because of Abdullah,” he said. “He’s the scholar among the team.”

Kareem led me away from the railing so we could work. I scrubbed the deck, my head lowered, ears straining for any sign of Tío Ricardo or Mr. Hayes. His other companion, Mr. Fincastle, didn’t look twice at me, so I didn’t bother keeping track of his movements. Around noon, we stopped so the cook and Kareem could go out on land to use one of the public ovens in order to make bread. The main meal, I learned, consisted of a toasted flatbread soaked in olive oil and flavored with salt and pepper, with lentils stirred in until the whole thing turned into a kind of thick soup. For dessert, we munched on dates, and some of the crew enjoyed tobacco and coffee.

After lunch, I continued scrubbing until I reached the very back of the ship, working my way to the mast. My fingers were cramped from curling them around the bristled brush, and my back ached from having spent the majority of the day bent and on my knees. I pushed through the discomfort, liking the immediate improvement to the deck. One good swipe, and the dirt cleared to reveal the handsome wooden planks.

Someone shouted, indiscernible words carried off by the sudden furious wind. I looked up, my hair pulling free in a riot of tangles from out of my hat. Sheets of paper danced across my vision and I jerked back to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“No!” The Reis hollered. “Grab them, you fool!”

The captain looked wildly around, pointing in every direction, clearly desperate.

The scene unfolded in a mad rush as several crew raced around the deck, snatching the loose paper fluttering like wayward snowflakes. I jumped to my feet and pulled two as they rippled over the boards. Another caught my eye, whipping up and over the railing—

I lurched forward, one arm outreached, fingertips spread wide. The dahabeeyah rocked, the water rippling roughly. My mistake became all too clear. I had no purchase and I’d leaned out too far, and when the boat dipped, I flew forward and flipped down into the river.

No time to scream for help.

Warm water engulfed me, smacking my palms hard. Bubbles erupted in a dizzying dance around me. I blinked, and righted myself, kicking hard. I burst through the surface sputtering.

“Man overboard! We lost one!” someone yelled from above.

I coughed up more water and fought hard to keep myself from going back under. The current pulled, a powerful force, determined to win. Something drifted past my ankle and I let out a horrified shriek. I’d never swum in a river before, and the deep water fueled my imagination to terrifying heights. What lurked below the surface? The water was too dark to see anything clearly and it curled around me in a frightening fist. I tipped my head backward and looked up and met the amused blue gaze of Mr. Hayes. He folded his arms on the railing and his handsome features twisted in laughter, auburn hair gleaming like polished amber in the sunlight. “Did you swim all the way here, Olivera?”

“Hilarious.”

“It’s a pretty day for it, isn’t it?”

“Mr. Hayes,” I said, spitting water, “I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

He examined his fingernails. “I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”

“I thought you had scruples.”

Without skipping a beat, he said dryly, “I only know how to spell the word.”

That would have made me smile if I weren’t splashing loudly, trying to keep my nose above the water. “I’m not a strong swimmer,” I said, unable to keep the panic out of my voice.

In an instant, his genial expression turned murderous. “What did you say?”

“I wasn’t planning on getting in the river.”

“Bloody hell.” He turned away for an instant and then returned, carrying a long coil of rope. He threw one end down and it spooled a few yards away from me. I hadn’t realized the river had taken me outward.

“Can you reach it?”

I struggled forward, slowly but surely propelling myself back to the Elephantine. But the current swept me backward; with a muttered curse, I kicked wildly and managed to draw closer to the rope.

“I think I can manage on my own.”

“We are going to have words,” Mr. Hayes said in a grim voice, preparing to launch himself over the railing. “Several of them.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said and then spat out more of the river.

“Shit.” His eyes widened as he looked at something behind me. “Inez!”

I half turned my head to find an obsidian ridge cutting through the surface, a large shadow moving like a bullet under the water line. Horror seized my body and I stopped swimming, paralyzed.

A Nile crocodile. Ten yards away and gaining ground.

There was a loud scuffle overhead, frantic conversation, but it seemed to come from a million miles away; the noise might have been from the moon. I couldn’t take my gaze from the predator swimming toward me. I came to my senses and clumsily swam toward the dahabeeyah. A blur of movement came from somewhere next to me, a large body crashing into the river near me. Mr. Hayes came up, shook his head, his hair dark brown and wet, plastered across his face. He reached me in one breadth and gripped my hand.

“Oh no, oh no,” I babbled.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said calmly. “Take a big breath.”

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