“I’m not a guide,” I said, startled. “I’m a… well, helper is as good a description as anything. I’m just here to get you to your ship. I’m not going with you on it.”
Her eyes narrowed on me. “You must help me across the Duat to my beau. You agreed to do so. You cannot back out now—I can’t face the challenges by myself. I am a priestess of Heka, not Isis herself.”
I sighed, suddenly wishing like the dickens that I’d never answered the door to Jian’s cousin. What was his name?
“Mrs. P,” I said gently but firmly. “I realize that you have a really splendid imagination, and that you were absolutely right about Jian being a dragon, but just because you were right about that doesn’t mean that everything you think is real is actually so. You’re just a little confused. Duat is the name of the cruise line—it’s not a real place.”
She shook her head sadly at me.
“And Isis is… was… an Egyptian goddess. I think. I’m not very hip on Egyptian myths and lore. So while I agree that you are not Isis, I’m not sure where this idea came from that I’m your guide.”
A knock sounded at the door. I got up to answer it.
“You must guide me,” she insisted. “You are a dragon’s mate. Only your kind can defeat the challenges that will face us.”
“Hi,” I said to Rowan when he stepped into the room. I was sorry to see that he’d not only combed his hair but also shaved. So much for that tempting stubble. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m famished, and I think Mrs. P could use a little food in her stomach. I suspect her blood sugar is low and it’s making her a bit… scattered.”
He raised his eyebrows and took the chair I gestured at, while I went to fetch the room service menus. “The trip from Munich seemed fairly uneventful.”
“Oh, it was, and Mrs. P dozed most of the way, but now she’s insisting that I’m supposed to go on the cruise with her, and I’m having a hard time making her understand that I’m just a helper monkey, and not a tour guide. Now, Mrs. P, do you feel like something light or a more substantial meal? I’m sure there will be snackies on the boat when you get there, but since that’s a good four hours away, I’d suggest getting a full meal now. It looks like they have chicken thighs stuffed with rice and pine nuts, or a tenderloin with grilled veggies that you might like. And some lamb dishes, but I personally won’t eat a wee little baby lamb. Not that it matters to you, but still.”
“Tell the gel she must come with me,” Mrs. P demanded of Rowan. “I cannot make the trip alone. It is too dangerous. Too many people want my offering.”
Rowan looked startled.
I asked, “Your what now?”
“My offering.” She gestured toward her chest. “It is for my beau. Without it, we can’t be together. And I can’t give it to him without a guide taking me to him.”
“Mrs. P…” I sat silent for a moment, helpless against her fantasies. Clearly some sort of dementia was beginning to grip her, despite the fact that she’d been unusually prescient about my true origins. But this was just beyond me. “I don’t know what to say.”
“She can’t go with you,” Rowan said quickly, and gave a little embarrassed cough. “That is, I got the last available cabin. There won’t be any more available. And I would be more than happy to guide you.”
I looked at him with wonder and a wee bit of suspicion. Why was he being so helpful all of a sudden? And did he just try to get me out of the picture?
Hurt pierced deep and hot, but I pushed that aside to try to think rationally about the situation. Did Rowan’s sudden offer have something to do with this ring he was so interested in? Surely he couldn’t have nefarious plans for it, not after we’d spent such a wonderful time together. And he seemed as much into me as I was in him…
Slowly, my gaze dropped, a sick feeling in my stomach.
Had he used me just to get in a position where he could rob Mrs. P?
Eight
Rowan was panicked, good and simple. Here he thought he’d been one step ahead of Sophea by booking the last available cabin on the ship, and now Mrs. P was demanding that Sophea be included in the trip.
Dammit, he had had a hard enough time sneaking into Mrs. P’s room without having to contend with a watchful Sophea, not to mention one who, if she learned the truth about the ring, might very well take it for her own purposes.
His brain came to a screeching halt at that idea. As if Sophea—warm, wonderful, giving Sophea—would do something so heinous. He might have had suspicions of her at first, but not now, not when he knew just what a wonderful woman she was.
One who made him hard just thinking about her.
He crossed his legs and thought strenuously for a few minutes about the plight of the Incas under the rule of the conquistadors.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Sophea said, and for a moment, Rowan had forgotten the direction of the conversation. Sophea’s voice sounded choked.