“We turn around and we’ll lose days that we don’t have. Are you sure you want to risk it?”
My uncle swiped at the contents on the table. Everything went crashing to the ground. He breathed heavily, his buttons straining against his broad chest. His hands were clenched into tight fists, his knuckles turning white.
I jumped back with a squeak. I’d never seen such violent temper. My father had been a mild-tempered man, his tone soft and approachable. My mother was the yeller, but she didn’t throw anything when in a rage. Tío Ricardo paced, tugging at his beard.
Then he stopped and faced Whit with a calculated look.
Swift comprehension crossed Whit’s face. “No,” he breathed. “I won’t do it.”
“I pay you a great deal to do what I need,” my uncle said. “You’ll take her back after we disembark.”
Whit pushed off the wall. “You need the crew, and I can’t sail the Elephantine by myself. Consider that she won’t ever give up, and short of going with her to Argentina—”
Tío Ricardo’s head snapped back, his mouth going slack. Panic stabbed me in the gut. I didn’t like the look on his face at all. Neither did Whit for that matter.
“Absolutely not,” Whit snapped. “You’ve gone too far. I didn’t agree to the job only to become a babysitter.”
I flinched.
Desperation carved deep grooves along my uncle’s brow. “She can’t stay here.”
I cleared my throat. “I might have to, if only to help you.”
My uncle inhaled deeply, clearly fighting to keep calm. “My dear niece—”
But Whit cut him off, his eyes narrowing in my direction. “Explain what you mean.”
My attention flickered to my uncle. “When my father sent me the ring, I felt an immediate reaction. It was a spark that I felt everywhere. And then I tasted roses.”
Whit shut his eyes and let out a humorless laugh.
“Roses,” Tío Ricardo said in a hollow sort of voice. “Are you sure?”
“What is the significance of the rose?” I demanded. Neither of them replied. Annoyance and frustration warred within me. We would get nowhere if they didn’t start trusting me. “Without the golden ring, you will need my help to find Cleopatra’s tomb.”
“You don’t know that,” Tío Ricardo said, but he didn’t seem as adamant. The fight had gone out of him, and he tilted his head to the side.
“Some of the magic latched on to me. I can sometimes feel her. As if I were in a private memory belonging to her. She’s immense, covered in shadow, but I can see a white ribbon in her hair, adorned with pearls. Her feet shimmer from the gems on her golden sandals. That magic reminds me of flowers in bloom.” I paused. “The rose.”
“Impossible,” my uncle said. “Impossible. We all feel the remnants of magic whenever we touch an object that’s a carrier.” He frowned, silently considering for a moment. “The ring must house an incredible amount of magical energy for you to see . . . her. It must not have been handled by too many people since the spell was first cast. And it doesn’t necessarily mean it will lead you to her burial site.”
Whit let out another short, humorless laugh, and then turned away, his shoulders shaking. I glared at his back, knowing that he understood what I wouldn’t say out loud. After all, he was there the day that I had bought the trinket box. The magic in me had led me straight to it.
That he didn’t reveal what had happened to his employer confused me. It was as if he were protecting me in some way that I didn’t understand.
Tío Ricardo wavered, clenching and unclenching his fist.
Whit turned around, his attention solely on my uncle’s immovable frame. No one spoke; I hardly dared to breathe. I didn’t know why my father had sent me the ring. I didn’t know if the ring or the trinket box would really lead me to her. I only knew that the answers were within reach.
“All right,” he said quietly. “You’re in, Inez.”
Elation curled deep in my belly, made my hands shake. But then his words sunk in.
You’re in.
What had he meant by that?
But I didn’t care. I only wanted to know what had happened to my parents. I couldn’t do that from Argentina, or even Cairo. Nothing mattered but discovering the truth.
“Give her the storage cabin,” Tío Ricardo said. “Inez, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. Let me handle everything. Understood?” When I nodded, he relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I’ll find a way to explain your presence to Mr. Fincastle. Appearances must be maintained for the sake of your reputation.”
“What reputation?” Whit muttered.
“Inez, why don’t you go and get settled?” Tío Ricardo said loudly. “Go straight to the last cabin on the right.”
“I can take her,” Whit said.
“Actually,” my uncle said, “I need a quick word.”
Whit straightened, his shoulders tense. He didn’t take his eyes off my uncle. I left the saloon, making sure to make my steps audible. And then I doubled back on tiptoe, tucking myself in the shadows, my ears straining.
“Do I need to be worried about you?” Tío Ricardo asked.
No response from Whit—unless he’d spoken very softly. I pressed closer to the wall. I kept my breathing steady, but my pulse danced wildly.
“I can’t have you distracted. There’s too much at stake, and you have a job to do.”
“Which I’m handling. I’ll find out more in Aswan.”
“How?” Tío Ricardo asked.
“My contact assured me they’ll stop for supplies. It won’t be hard to find out what we need. There’s only a few places agents frequent in a city as small as Aswan.”
Agents? The only one I knew of was the odious Mr. Sterling. Regardless, it seemed Whit had been tasked with acquiring information for my uncle. I recalled his answer when I had asked him if his errands for Tío Ricardo were legal.
Sometimes.
“You mean the Cataract Bar,” my uncle said.
“Perhaps,” Whit said coolly. “I know of other places to check. Wherever they are, I assure you I’m on top of it, and there’s no need to fear any distraction.”
“Come now,” Tío Ricardo said. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Well, she has a certain charm,” Whit said dryly. “It comes out when she’s lying to your face.”
“Whitford.”
“Her beauty doesn’t turn my head, trust me. I have zero intention of courting her.”
“Inez is off-limits to you,” my uncle pressed. “She’s my niece, do you understand? Both of her parents are gone. None of my plans involve any attachment between you and her. Not even in friendship. I don’t mean to be rude, but I would never allow it.”
“Trust me when I tell you,” Whit said without a trace of irony. “That she’s entirely safe from me.”
“Give me your word.”
“You have it.”
“Good,” my uncle said. “She may be more useful than either of us realized.”
Capítulo Quince