“Inez,” Tío Ricardo called out. “Don’t miss it.”
I turned away from Whit in time to see Philae come into view, backlit against the morning light, soft and far reaching. Stately palms rose up from the water, the leaves softly swaying in the gentle breeze gliding over the river. Tall and imposing colonnades made of golden-hued stones towered over the Elephantine, an immense gate that welcomed travelers into another world, another life. Piled rocks framed either side, ancient and formidable, solid in strength, and set against a backdrop of bruised purple hills. Surrounding the island were other smaller ones, rocky and formidable guards to the jewel of the Nile. The temple pylons grew taller as we made our slow approach. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life.
Isadora and her father stood on my other side, and they were animatedly talking as they examined Philae from a security standpoint. “There are too many places for boats to come and dock,” Mr. Fincastle said.
“Perhaps we can ask some of the crew to stand guard,” Isadora suggested.
I turned to face them. “Guard against what, exactly?”
“Why, unwanted visitors, of course,” Mr. Fincastle said.
“I figured that much on my own.” I gritted my teeth. “Who is my uncle expecting?”
“Nosy tourists,” he said. “It’s merely a precaution.”
Then with a cold smile he strode away. Isadora remained behind, her delicate features awash in the golden light of the early morning. “He can be quite infuriating, I know. But he means well. He takes his job very seriously.”
“I wish I knew why my uncle hired him,” I admitted.
Isadora threw a swift glance over her shoulder and then her gaze swung around to meet mine. Her eyes were very blue, the same color as her father’s. “I believe he was hired because of what happened to your parents.”
Well, well. Her father’s leash on her wasn’t as tight as I’d thought. “I thought as much, but why?”
“Because their deaths caused quite a stir in Cairo society.”
I inched closer. “What do you mean?”
She arched a brow. “Your uncle doesn’t share much with you, does he?”
“Unfortunately not.”
Isadora let out a thoughtful hum. “He’s not the sort of man you can ask directly, I suppose.”
“None of my tactics have worked thus far.”
“Then I would reevaluate your strategy.”
She had a direct manner, honest and unapologetic. Despite her youth, I got the impression she viewed her circumstances with a world-weary and jaded perspective. I wondered what her life was like, where she had traveled, the people she had met. I wondered why she’d have to come up with strategies in the first place.
“This is an odd conversation,” I said with a laugh. “What would you recommend?”
She gave a dainty shrug, her lips twitching. “There are ways to get what you want, but it requires a subtlety one has to learn.”
I couldn’t quite keep the disapproval out of my voice. “You mean manipulation.”
“When the occasion calls for it.” Isadora let out a delighted laugh. “I see I might have offended you. Well, no matter. I enjoy your company, Se?orita Olivera.”
“Thank you.” I scrunched my brow. “I think I feel the same?”
Another twinkling laugh. “I’ll tell you what your uncle won’t. Se?or Marqués felt pressure from the Antiquities Service to provide stricter protection for the excavation team. Your parents were the darlings in Egypt and their tragic demise caused much speculation. None of which painted your uncle in a favorable light. His reputation suffered greatly, and I heard he almost lost his position and good standing with Monsieur Maspero. Are you familiar with the gentleman?”
I nodded. The dinner I shared with them felt years ago, but I recalled the strained tension between the three men. Isadora’s information tracked.
“Do you mean to tell me your father was hired for appearance’s sake? Not because of any real reason?”
She gave a dainty shrug. “Losing all respect seems reason enough for me, Se?orita Olivera. I would fight to keep my name out of the mud. A good name is immeasurably useful.”
What a pragmatic way to view one’s need for a good character. “Where did you hear about my uncle almost losing his position?”
Isadora tucked a wayward strand of gold hair behind her ear. “My father often hosts museum and government employees in our hotel suite. He likes to maintain open avenues of communication, and people talk. Sometimes, they talk in front of me as if I’m not there. Quite shortsighted of them.”
My lips flattened. The more I learned about her father, the less I liked. In fact, my opinion of him had swerved into sharp dislike. He sounded like a mercenary. She must have seen my expression because she laughed.
“Trust me, Se?orita Olivera. My father is his own person. He never does anything without good reason or benefit to himself.”
“You’re trying to tell me Mr. Fincastle isn’t under anyone’s thumb.”
“Well,” she said slowly, drawing out the word. “He’s working for your uncle, isn’t he? My father must not have paid any attention to the gossip.” She paused, visibly musing, and then with a slight shake of her head she seemed to discard whatever thought had struck her.
“What?” I asked. “You were thinking of something.”
“Oh,” she said. “Nothing of import.”
Isadora turned away from the railing, but I reached out and took hold of her arm. She raised her brows inquiringly.
The question bubbled to the surface, without my meaning it to. “Would you teach me how to shoot?”
“You’d like to learn? It will take hours and hours of practice and work to become competent.”
“I don’t mind the effort or the challenge.”
She dimpled. “I’ll teach you, if I can call you Inez.”
I knew I liked her. “It’s nice to have a friend, Isadora.”
“Likewise,” she said with a smile before walking away to join her father on the other side of the boat.
I turned my attention back to the temple. This building was thousands of years old and it made me feel my mortality. It would be here long after I left. I wasn’t frightened but humbled by my realization. When I was finally able to tear away my gaze, it was to find my uncle gauging my reaction. He’d come to join me, and I hadn’t heard his quiet approach. He sent a small smile my way. My reaction must have passed a test. I’d been suitably awed.
“Welcome, Inez, to the birthplace of ancient Egypt.” He gestured to the calm stretch of the river. “This is the southern Nile Valley, the cradle of their civilization. Here you’ll find their earliest art carved on the rocks, their first city, and temple. On the island, you’ll see the last time anyone wrote in Egyptian hieroglyphics, the last breath of Egypt’s pagan religion before Philae became a Christian shrine.”