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

Whit

Inez left the room, her skirt twirling around her ankles. I turned my focus to Ricardo. With Inez and him leaving for Cairo, it was the perfect time to broach a subject festering in my mind. I didn’t want to bring it up, but I had to. It was long past time.

Ricardo dragged a tired hand across his face. “What a mess.”

“I know.”

Ricardo hunched over the book where I’d been keeping careful track of all the artifacts. He scowled down at the heavily marked page. His belongings were strewn everywhere in his narrow room, creating a mess. He liked to throw things when he couldn’t shout.

“It was right here all along,” he said.

“What was?”

“Inez’s deceit,” he said. He jabbed his index finger onto the sheet. “She was careful to take copies, but not always. The blue serpent is missing. It’ll be worth a fortune, a perfect model of the asp that killed Cleopatra. The only snake in her entire tomb.”

“You’re still angry at her.”

“There will never be a day when I won’t be,” he said tiredly. “Why aren’t you furious?”

I leaned against the wall, crossed my ankles, and shrugged. “How well do you think she knew her mother?”

“Not an excuse.”

“I think it is,” I said quietly. “Lourdes made herself a stranger to her own daughter. She didn’t know she was leading another life here; she didn’t know how good of a liar her mother is. And don’t forget, Inez believed her mother dead. We thought the same when we couldn’t find her for weeks and weeks. You would have done anything for her; remember when you thought other Curators had murdered her?”

“That was before I knew how she had betrayed me,” Ricardo said, slamming the book closed. “What do you want?”

“It’s time for me to go home,” I said.

He turned to face me, his jaw dropping. “Now?”

I had looked for the parchment earlier, but there had been no trace of it. I couldn’t ignore my family anymore—not without a reason, and I had none. “There are too many letters from home. I can’t overlook them.”

He was silent, considering. “This has nothing to do with Inez leaving Egypt?”

“Nothing,” I said. I was always going to leave, one way or another. Even if I had found what I’d been looking for.

“You still have time on your contract with me.”

I nodded. I had expected him to bring it up. “You brought me back to the living, Ricardo. I’ll always owe you. But I can’t stay any longer. My sister needs me.”

“All right,” he said, his tone cold. “Then I’ll look for your replacement when we reach Cairo.”

I gritted my teeth. He knew I’d prefer to stay. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

I turned to go, my back straight, that yawning pit deepening in my belly. I wasn’t ready for my time here to be over. I wasn’t ready for what came next. I would be a husband to a stranger. I would have to have children with her.

“Whitford.”

I paused and half turned. Ricardo approached, and he settled his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve done good work for me. I’m glad you turned your life around.”

“It’s not really my life, though, is it?”

Ricardo gave me a pitying smile. “You still have a choice.”

“No, I don’t.”

He sighed, and squeezed my arm. “I know you’ve come to care for Inez. Thanks for leaving her alone.”

I left before I had to tell another lie.





Part Four


Lost Among a Thousand Minarets





Capítulo Veintinueve


True to his word, my uncle prepared for us to leave with the first streaks of dawn the next morning. I’d spent a miserable night, tossing and turning, praying that Elvira had been found. At some point, Whit had appeared at my door, as if I’d summoned him. Wordlessly, he’d held out a tin cup filled with brandy.

I took it from him, conscious of my thin nightgown fluttering softly around my body. He never once looked down past my eyes. I took a sip, and the liquid burned a path down deep in my belly.

“I heard you,” he’d said softly. “Restless. I thought it might help.”

I took another sip and then handed the cup back to him. “I don’t have a taste for it.”

He’d stared at it in wonder, the tin small against his large hand. “Me neither. Not anymore.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“I only needed it to forget,” he’d said after a beat. “But I can’t run anymore. Keep it, and drink. It’ll help you fall asleep, Olivera.” He’d turned away before I could say anything else. There was so much I wished I could say. But I bit my tongue and fell back into bed. The brandy had calmed me down enough to think through the situation logically. It took several weeks for mail to make the journey from South America to Africa. She must have written both letters back to back. For all I knew, Elvira was already home and safe.

But then, why hadn’t Tía Lorena written another letter?

It was possible that it just hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps by the time we sailed back and arrived at Shepheard’s, there would be another letter waiting for me.

The thought brightened me up considerably.

Kareem came to help me with my belongings, and as I stepped out of my room—possibly for the last time—I spotted Whit assisting my uncle with his luggage. He glanced over, looking as disheveled as I felt, and studied my face. His gaze flicked from my tired eyes to the downward curve of my mouth, and then he frowned. My uncle called for him from where he stood by Trajan’s Kiosk, and Whit turned away to continue helping him.

I said goodbye to the crew, and then to Abdullah and even Mr. Fincastle, whose gruff goodbye confirmed my initial dislike of the man. Isadora surprised me by giving me a tight hug.

“Remember to not be so trusting,” she whispered. “I won’t always be there to teach you how to shoot. You do remember how, don’t you?”

“I’ll hardly forget the lesson,” I said dryly.

“Write to me,” she said. “You know where to find me.”

I promised her I would. Before anyone could call me away, I ran to the Temple of Isis, my boots kicking up the hot sand in my wake. Inside the temple, everything looked the same, while I felt my insides were being wrung out to dry. This would be my last chance to see Cleopatra’s final resting place, before it was discovered by the rest of the world. This moment was for just her and me, the taste of roses in my mouth, the magic rioting under my skin.

When I finally made it to the burial chamber, tears pricked the corners of my eyes. The objects and artifacts glinted gold from the light of the soft flame of my candle. I didn’t want to forget any of the details, but more important, I didn’t want to forget what it felt like to have found her.

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