I nodded. “Cleopatra. He thinks she might be buried under Trajan’s Kiosk; that’s where they’ve been tunneling.”
“And do you understand the enormity of such a discovery? Finding the last pharaoh of Egypt is akin to finding the Holy Grail. It’s every archaeologist’s dream. One of the most important discoveries, second, maybe, to that of Alexander the Great or Nefertiti. The artifacts found in her tomb will be worth millions on the black market. Your uncle can’t be allowed to sell such priceless art at Tradesman’s Gate.”
“The card,” I breathed. “I found it in your hotel room. There’s an illustration of a gate on one side.”
“It’s an illegal exchange of artifacts,” she said in a hushed voice. “Most times, the Curators—who are known as the tradesmen—run an auction with buyers. But the metaphorical gate always changes location, and it’s very hard to attend unless you have an invitation.”
“And this is what you’ve been doing,” I said. “Trying to track down the moving gate, trying to stop Tío Ricardo from participating.”
Mamá nodded. She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “This situation is too much for you. If anything were to happen to you . . .”
“But you can’t stop him on your own,” I whispered-yelled. “He’s close to finding her, I think. I felt the magic myself.”
Mamá furrowed her brow. “Magia? Que magia?”
“From the golden ring Papá sent.”
She remained silent, staring at me with a confused expression on her face. Her bafflement turned to profound shock. “A ring?” she repeated dumbly.
“The one he mailed me,” I prompted. “The one belonging to Cleopatra?”
“Of course.” Her brow cleared, and she nodded. “That one. I’d forgotten he’d sent that to you for safe keeping. That was months ago, shortly before he . . . He must have known . . .” Her words trailed off. She shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. “What about it?”
“Well, when I first put it on my finger, I felt the magic seep into my skin. Some of the energy transferred to me. I’ve put together that Cleopatra herself had performed a spell to preserve her memories. The leftover magic recognizes anything connected to her and the spell she performed. I think the most powerful object to have traces of the magic is attached to the golden ring.”
“That makes sense,” she mused. “If it had remained undiscovered for thousands of years, the magic had nowhere else to go until very recently. Very few people would have had the opportunity to handle the ring.”
Her expression turned thoughtful.
“What is it?”
“There might be a way to stop him,” she whispered so softly, as if talking only to herself. “But it would mean putting you in harm’s way. Your uncle will be watching you and I’m not sure if it’s wise for you to get involved.”
“It’s too late,” I said. “I’m already involved.”
My mother sounded terribly sad. “I know.”
“I was planning on rummaging through his room, seeing if I could find any clues to what happened to you. But maybe there’s something else I could find? Something that might help us?” A sudden thought struck me. “Did you know he has your journals?”
A muscle in her jaw jumped. “I didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. He’d be looking for anything that might paint him in an unfavorable light. He can’t afford to lose his firman.”
“All the more reason why I should snoop inside his room.”
She shook her head. “You mustn’t draw attention to yourself. Promise me that you won’t go looking. There’s too much at stake.”
“But—”
This time, she sounded more like herself. Stern and uncompromising. “Promise me.”
I gave her a jerky nod.
Satisfied, she leaned over and kissed my cheek, and then wrapped her arms around me tight, and I felt how much she didn’t want to let me go. “As much as it terrifies me that you’re here, I’m happy to see you, querida. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too,” I said, fighting tears. “I’m so heartbroken about Papá. I can’t believe I’ll never see him again.”
She wiped my tears. “Yo tambien, hijita. I loved him so much, and I know you were his whole world. Nothing would have made him happier than to have you here with us, and if things had been different, we would have brought you with us. I hope you know that. Your uncle has been slowly going down that road for a long time.” She shrugged helplessly. “We haven’t been getting along for years, constantly fighting, every day another argument. It was no place for you.”
“All the same, I wish you would have brought me.”
“Maybe it was a mistake not to.” Her eyes tracked over every line and curve to my face. “You’ve grown up, Inez. I see so much of your father in you.”
“But everyone says I look like you.”
She smiled, and it was almost wistful. “It’s the wisdom in your glance, the stubborn jaw, and unruly hair. You’re more like him than me. Always wanting to learn, and so curious. Every year on your birthday you wanted a new book, another sketch pad, bottles of ink, or a train ticket to another country. You’re here because you are your father’s daughter, Inez.”
My mother stood, and wrapped a thick, dark scarf around her head. “I’ll come back to you when it’s safe, and when I’ve finalized a plan. Be careful until then and speak of this to no one.”
“I won’t,” I promised.
“And you mustn’t tell Whitford you’ve seen me.”
“Perhaps if you told him what you know about Tío Ricardo? He might believe you.”
She hesitated, unsure, her movement frozen. Reluctantly, she slowly shook her head. “No, Inez. Swear to me that you’ll keep my secret.”
I nodded.
She went to the entrance, her fingers gripping the fluttering curtain. Her voice dropped even lower, and I strained to hear her. “There’s one more thing you have to do for me.”
“What is it?”
“You must pretend to love your uncle.”
I recoiled, unable to disguise a full-body shudder. “But—”
“Love him, Inez,” she said. “Work to earn his approval. Strive to get to know him without revealing anything of yourself to him. He’ll use whatever weakness he finds against you. Treat him like family. He must never suspect you know the truth.”
*
The morning came with extraordinary splendor to the Nile. Lavender stripes reached from one end of the river heralding the fiery burn of the sun’s rising. Egrets dotted the banks as the fishermen set off for the day’s catch. I yawned hugely, wiping the grit from my eyes. Sleep evaded me all through the night. I pulled the curtain shut and stretched, enjoying the cool touch of morning.
Everyone else had risen early.