"Did it never occur to you to ask for backup?"
"No, sir." I wanted to hang my head in shame at having deceived him and just barely kept from doing so.
He stared at me a long moment, his eyes boring into me. "Did Wigmere know what you were about? Or did you deceive him as well?"
"If you please, sir. It wasn't a question of deception," I rushed to explain. "Or not intentional deception, anyway. I had made a deathbed promise, sir, which I viewed as sacred. Part of that promise was not telling anyone else the details of the plan."
Major Grindle stared at me a few seconds longer, his brows beetled and mouth pursed. Finally, something shifted, something that gave me hope that all was not lost with him.
"Does the nature of that secret have to do with those men at the temple? For do not tell me they were Serpents of Chaos. I know that they were not."
I swallowed. "Yes, sir. The secret deathbed promise had to do with those men."
"Hmm," was all he said before turning the full weight of his regard to Gadji. "And you, young man. They seemed to be quite interested in you."
Gadji, who had been silent all this time, nodded his head, as if dazed. "They did most certainly," he said.
"Do you know why?"
Gadji snapped out of his trance and looked up to meet the major's gaze with a grin. "Because I am the last pharaoh, mister major."
The words fell into the room, a swell of silence growing around them. I cleared my throat. "Is it true? Was your father a pharaoh?"
Gadji shrugged. "My father works in Valley of Kings. He moves stone and dirt for the Inglaize, as his father and his father before him."
"Is that the family you've been looking for all this time?"
Gadji shook his head. "Father dies in great accident."
"Oh, I'm sorry. What about your mother?"
Gadji shrugged again. "She die many years ago, while having baby. Baby die, too. Only sister is left. Safiya."
"Did you recognize any of those men?" Major Grindle asked.
"No."
"So you don't know who they are, then?"
"No, mister major. But..." his voice trailed off and we all waited.
"But what?" Major Grindle finally burst out.
"But something about them is being familiar. I do not know. Perhaps they are friends of my father?"
"Why doesn't everyone have a seat and we'll start at the beginning. Gadji, let's start with you."
Gadji, unused to sitting in front of important Inglaize, perched uneasily on the edge of his chair. "I is born in Luxor. But it is changing much since I saw it last." He scrunched up his nose. "Too many new buildings and tourists."
"Hear, hear," Major Grindle agreed.
"I live with my father and my older sister in the old quarter. But where our house used to be now stands a fancy Inglaize hotel."
My heart broke for him. Not only had he lost his family, but his entire home was gone.
"I have no memories of my mother. She dies when I was"—he paused and counted on his fingers—"three, I think. My sister takes care of the house then, and me, when our tutor is not there. I have many friends." He paused. "Then one day, there is big accident in valley. A tomb caves in. Everyone in uproar. Sister hurries to valley to see if our father is okay. When tutor arrives and finds her gone, he goes after her." He looked up and met Major Grindle's eyes. "That is the last time I see them."
"What happened after that?"
Gadji scrunched up his face again, trying to remember. "I got hungry. I remember that because I began eating the honey cakes Safiya made for dinner. I am afraid I will get in trouble, but I am so hungry I don't care. Then ... then I remember nothing until my first train ride."
"First train ride?" Major Grindle asked sharply. "To where?"
"Cairo. Very long train ride. Hot and dusty. Stand up the whole time. My legs begin to ache, and I begin to cry." He paused as if embarrassed by this. "I am very young," he explained.
"Of course," Major Grindle said.
"The man next to me shakes me and tells me not to be a baby."
"Were you traveling with the man, or was he just a random passenger?" I asked.
Gadji paused, as if he had never thought of that. "I do not know, miss. But the womans next to us shoot him evil eye and make a nest for me at her feet. I sleep the rest of the way to Cairo. When we arrive, I slip away and follow womans home. I is not wanting to stay with men who pinch and shout."
"Then what?" I asked.
Gadji shrugged again. "The womans, she nice and feed me, but is not having enough for an extra mouth to feed. So Gadji live on streets. Until miss finds me."
Major Grindle leaned forward. "Now think, Gadji, because this is very important. Did the men traveling with you back then look anything like the ones you ran into today? Similar facial features, clothing, identifying marks or tattoos?"
"Oh no. Not at all. These mens, they were wearing Egyptian robes, but under their turbans, the faces, they were Inglaize."
A stunned silence followed that announcement. "English," Major Grindle repeated, leaning back in his chair. "Not French or German or American, but English?"
Gadji waved his hand. "All the same. Not Egyptians."
"And traveling in the third-class car meant for natives. That cannot have been a random coincidence, I think. What about this tutor of yours? Who was he? Did he have a name?"
"Oh yes, mister major. His name is Master Bubu."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Much Is Made Clear
I GASPED. I couldn't help it.
"You know this Master Bubu, I take it," Major Grindle said.
"Yes, sir. He was a magician performing in London when we first met him, but he turned out to be..." I waged an internal struggle, trying to decide how much to tell him. "something much more than that. It was to him that I made the deathbed promise. He had been injured trying to protect me from the Serpents of Chaos."
Major Grindle raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a long moment. "Well, this is a Gordian knot if ever there was one. For the time being—"
"Sir?" I said, making up my mind.
"Yes, Theodosia?"
"This Master Bubu. He belonged to the same group of men we ran into at the temple today. They are a group, rather like the Brotherhood, who keeps an eye on sacred objects here in Egypt." I didn't feel quite as if I'd broken my promise to Awi Bubu. The cat was already out of the bag since Major Grindle had seen the wedjadeen with his own eyes.
"I see."
And I was very afraid that he did see. See everything I was not telling him. "Sir," I hastened to add, "I am not trying to keep things from you; it is just that promises were made—"
He held up a hand to stop me. "I understand. I would not expect you to break a promise, Miss Throckmorton."
"You wouldn't?" If not, he was certainly a rare exception among grownups. They are forever thinking that a child's promise should be easily broken if it makes their lives easier.
"No. However, now that you have kept those promises, let there be no more secrets between us." He gave me a meaningful look, and I nodded.
We were quiet for a long moment before I asked, "Sir, do you think Gadji could be the last pharaoh?"
"I don't know what to think. The pharaonic bloodline died out years ago. Nectanebo II was the last Egyptian-born pharaoh."
"Of record," I pointed out.
Major Grindle tilted his head to the side. "What makes you add that disclaimer?"
"Well, quite frankly, it seems as if we are always bumping up against things we didn't know about ancient Egypt and its magic. I don't see why the pharaohs should be any different."