I took a fortifying breath, and spoke in halting words. I fought to keep myself from crying, to keep my tone measured. Neither of them interrupted, but their faces became more horrified as I continued. Tío Ricardo seemed to have turned to stone. He barely breathed. Whit stayed by me, silently supporting me. When I finished, the quiet felt heavy and oppressive.
“If it’s the last thing I do,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I’m going to stop her.”
My uncle stood, swaying, and stumbled away. I heard his low roar but it wasn’t entirely made of fury. He sounded anguished. The urge to go to him overwhelmed me. He wouldn’t want my comfort, but I had to try. I prepared to stand but Whit flung his arm, stopping me.
“Give him a minute.”
“But—”
My uncle kicked the sand. If he were a kettle, he’d be steaming. He wasn’t a flame, he was a blaze razing everything to the ground.
“Maybe more than one minute,” Abdullah said, his face turned away in my uncle’s direction. “Let him feel his anger. It doesn’t last long anyway. He’ll return when he’s ready.”
He returned after ten minutes, his color high, graying hair disorderly. I’d seen him tugging on it and I was worried he’d hurt himself. My uncle resumed his seat, breathing hard. Then he met my gaze squarely.
“She set out to ruin me,” he said in a barely controlled voice.
I nodded.
“Paint me as a thief. A murderer.”
I nodded again.
“And you believed her,” he said.
“Ricardo,” Abdullah said sharply. “We need to focus on the lost artifacts.”
“They’re gone by now,” Tío Ricardo said bleakly. “There’s no getting them back. Lourdes is well on her way to Cairo, and from there she’ll hand the artifacts over to her lover. He’ll make sure they’re never seen again until the items come up for sale at Tradesman’s Gate.”
“And once they’re in the hands of collectors,” Abdullah said slowly. “In museums or with historians, someone will discern their origins. It will only be a matter of time before people discover who we’ve found.”
“But it will take days for Mamá to reach the city,” I argued. “We have time to catch up to her, we have time to involve the proper authorities. We have names, we have a location. We ought to pack up and go, right this minute.”
“We’re opening the tomb today,” Abdullah said. “We can’t leave Cleopatra unattended, and we’ve come too far to cover our tracks. Too many people come and go from Philae.”
My uncle visibly weighed the situation, clearly torn. I could tell he wanted to rush off and find my mother, and take back what was stolen, but Abdullah’s words made sense. I tried to catch his eye, but now he refused to look at me. Whatever ground I’d gained, I’d lost. His trust in me had been misplaced and the betrayal drew him away, creating distance.
There might have been a vast desert between us.
“I agree with you,” my uncle said at last.
“We open the tomb, and we record what we can,” Abdullah said.
“And then Whit and I will go and find out what I can about the lost artifacts,” Tío Ricardo said.
“Too much time will be lost,” I said. “Let’s go and—”
“We’re in this mess because of your foolishness,” my uncle snapped. “And there’s no we. Once the tomb is opened, you’ll stay behind to complete the drawings.”
My temper flared. “Maybe if you had been honest from the start—”
Tío Ricardo glared, the muscles in his jaw ticking.
Whit tugged on the sleeve of my dress, wordlessly communicating for me to stop talking. She was getting away because of me. I couldn’t sit and do nothing. I couldn’t draw. “Tío Ricardo, por favor—”
“Not another word,” Tío Ricardo said, jumping to his feet again. “I don’t have time to hear any more of your idiocy.”
Whit glared at my uncle. “It’s her mother.”
Tío Ricardo made a noise of disgust and stormed off. He hadn’t taken twenty steps before he was accosted by Mr. Fincastle and Isadora. They had huddled close by, watching our interaction with keen interest. My uncle gestured toward me and then walked out of sight. Isadora walked up to our little group as her father followed my uncle wherever he had gone. She wore a neat blue gown, her narrow waist cinched tight by wide ribbon. Her golden hair swung around her shoulders.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “I trust you all slept well?”
No one replied.
“We’ll open the tomb after lunch,” Abdullah said. “All of you be ready by then.” He stood to his feet, his grief tugging the corners of his mouth downward. “It’s a holiday, isn’t it? Feliz Navidad.”
He walked away and my heart shattered.
I’d ruined everything. I ought to have known, I should have suspected. Abdullah’s quiet grief cut me deeply. I would have preferred that he yelled at me like my uncle had done. His disappointment hurt worse, but wasn’t he as much to blame? His lying and determined secrecy had worked against all of us. I wished to heaven I had—
Whit nudged my knee with his. “Stop it.”
I startled. “What?”
He leaned forward, and spoke quietly so that Isadora couldn’t hear. “I know what you’re doing. You can’t change what happened, or what you did. Try not to destroy yourself over it. Your mother betrayed you. If there’s anyone you can’t forgive, let it be her.”
Tears pricked my eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
“Try,” he said gently. He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on, Olivera. I have something I want to show you.”
“Did you still want to learn how to shoot?” Isadora cut in. I’d almost forgotten she was there. “I can teach you now, if you’d like. It’s my gift to you.”
Whit’s brow creased. “I can teach you how to shoot.”
I jumped to my feet. Suddenly the idea of blowing something to smithereens sounded wonderful. “Let’s go.”
“Olivera—” Whit began. Isadora raised her brows at his familiar use of my name.
“If you want to learn, I can teach you right now,” she said.
“I’m in good hands,” I said to Whit. “You’ve seen Isadora fire her pistol, haven’t you?”
“Come find me when you’re done, then. Trajan’s Kiosk. And for God’s sake, don’t hurt yourself.”
Isadora pulled me away and led me far from the others, close to the water, an expanse of space surrounded by trees and large rocks. I followed her down to the bank, my shoes filled with hot sand. Something slithered across my vision and I let out a shriek.
She turned around, her gaze landing over my shoulder. “A scorpion. Good thing it didn’t sting you.”
I shuddered as the insect meandered up the hill. It stopped and perched itself on a smooth rock. I turned away and met Isadora down by the water.
“I think it best we aim out to the river, for now. Then, I’ll set up proper targets once you’ve gotten used to feel of the gun going off.”
“Gracias,” I murmured, my head still full of Tío Ricardo’s disappointment. His furious expression was carved in my mind. I’d never forget it, not as long as I lived.
“Are you all right?” Isadora. “You look pale.”
“My uncle and I had an argument,” I said, because if I could escape telling another lie, I would. I was sick of them. “I was at fault. Well, mostly at fault.”
“Did you apologize?”
I let out a bleak laugh. “It didn’t do much good.”