"True enough," Major Grindle agreed. "But it seems to me that what is important right now is that others think he is the last pharaoh. That also works to our advantage somewhat, for they are reluctant to force him to do anything he doesn't want to do. We'll use that. For now. Where are you staying?" he asked Gadji.
"I work for effendi miss. As her donkey boy. I sleep in the stable."
"Very well. At least we'll be able to keep an eye on you. You, however," he said, turning his gimlet eyes on me, "will be in danger until these men get what they want. That means no more gallivanting about. Do not go anywhere unless you are with me or your mother. Do you understand, Miss Throckmorton?" Major Grindle leaned very far forward across his desk. "I will brook no argument on this. If you cannot comply with this one simple rule, then I need to know now so I can make other arrangements."
"No, sir. It won't be a problem. Now that my mission is accomplished, I have nothing left that Chaos wants. My only plans are to help Mother with her excavating." Why did that sound so flat all of a sudden?
The major gave me an odd look. "Don't forget the small matter of revenge."
Oh, yes. There was that. The Serpents of Chaos would like to repay me for having foiled their plans once too often.
"Now, let's get you back to your house before your absence is noticed and an alarm raised. I'll escort you myself."
With that, Gadji and I followed Major Grindle out of his study to where the horses waited in the late afternoon sun. We rode in silence for a ways, Gadji in the lead so Major Grindle could keep an eye on his safety as well as mine. Sefu had appeared from somewhere and now sat on the boy's shoulder, chattering softly in his ear and picking at his hair.
With Gadji's attention elsewhere, I gathered up my nerve to ask Major Grindle a question that had plagued me since we escaped the temple. "Sir," I said in a very low voice. "What sort of magic did you use back at the temple?" I turned my head around so I could see his face when he answered.
He kept his gaze fixed on the streets ahead of us. "It was much like the things Quillings gave you, Miss Throckmorton, only of a more ancient origin. But all of us in the Brotherhood use magic, Miss Throckmorton. I thought you knew that."
I shook my head. "Not like that, they don't. They only use the principles of magic to remove curses. Or in Dr. Quillings's case, they harness the ancient magic. But that's not what you did, was it?"
Major Grindle gave me a look that was equal parts admiration and annoyance. "Not much gets by you, does it, girl? However, it was merely a bit of sand, that's all. Left over from when Sekhmet almost destroyed mankind."
The major returned his gaze to the horizon. Just when I was afraid that was all he was going to say, he began to speak again. "This is one area where Wigmere and I disagree. He feels magic should only be used to remove more harmful magic. However, that has not always been the case, and certainly not for those of us in the field. For many centuries the Brotherhood used its magical knowledge in offensive maneuvers as well, wielding it as a weapon in the fight against chaos. But mistakes were made. Occasionally operatives became corrupted through its use."
"Is that when you all started getting those tattoos, right here?" I tapped the top of my breastbone.
"He told you about that, did he?" For the first time, Major Grindle looked faintly shocked.
"He was trying to explain to me why someone I suspected of being guilty could not have been corrupted by magic."
He raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't take his word for it?"
I squirmed in the saddle, suddenly aware of how very brazen that must seem. "No, sir."
"Eventually," Major Grindle continued, "it was decided that all our knowledge would only be used in defensive measures. However, those decisions were mostly made by men who spent their entire careers behind desks and not in the field. They were not actively involved in the fight against these darker forces and did not understand how badly not using the magic was crippling us. My own feeling is that we cannot truly defeat these forces without being willing to wield this magic as it was meant to be wielded. It is a tool, a weapon like any other, and can be used as such.
"Of course," he added, "with such great power comes great responsibility."
"You aren't worried about becoming corrupted?"
"I take precautions," he said, then glanced at me. His voice softened. "Wigmere is a good man and an old friend, but he is very attached to reason in a field that has none. Now look, I believe this is your house."
He had stopped at the foot of the road that led up to our bungalow, well out of sight of anyone who might be inside. He did not dismount but instead helped me slide down. I went over and held the reins of Gadji's horse while he dismounted, then handed them to the major. "Be safe, you two. We'll talk again tomorrow. I'll wait here until you reach the house."
"Thank you, sir. For everything," I said, then turned and began the long walk up to the house with Gadji at my side. When we were well away from the major, Gadji sent me a cautious glance. "Miss?"
"What?"
"It was not just by accident that you chose me that day."
"Of course it was, Gadji! I had no idea who you were. How could I?"
He shook his head. "No, no. That's not what I mean. I mean, it was not you who picked me."
I turned and stared at him, my steps slowing. "What do you mean?"
He motioned for me to keep walking. "It is a small trick, one my tutor taught me. I can, sometimes, nudge people to do what I want, using my mind."
Well, that cinched it. He was definitely connected in some way to Awi Bubu. "But why? Why would you use that power on me?"
Gadji shrugged. "Because you ... glowed," he said. "The light of the gods shone around you, like heat rising up from the desert sand."
I gaped at him. "How are you able to see this ... power?" I asked. Awi Bubu was the only person I had ever met who could do that. "Did Awi Bubu teach you?"
Gadji shrugged. "I do not know. Maybe it is because I am a pharaoh!" He grinned.
His words launched a flood of brief memories, odd things that I hadn't noticed at the time. How Gadji had referred to Nut, one of the old Egyptian gods, when very few native Egyptians remembered them anymore. His pride, sometimes verging on arrogance, even when facing English officials like Mr. Bing.
We had reached the house, so I waved to Major Grindle, who gave a brief nod of goodbye and began riding back. When Gadji and I reached the stable door, I peeked in and saw his little pile of straw and hand-me-down blanket. "Gadji?"
"Yes, effendi miss?"
"Why didn't you want to go with those men? Aren't you the least bit intrigued by their claim? Don't you want to know what being a pharaoh means? I'm sure they'll give you more than a pile of straw and a secondhand blanket."
He looked up at me, his face small and vulnerable. "Does effendi miss want me to leave?"
"No, no! It's just—this isn't much of a life here in our stable. If it were me, I'd be sick with curiosity."
Gadji's face cleared. "Effendi miss has very curious nature. Perhaps that is why you glowed?"
I rolled my eyes. "Just think about it, would you? You can stay here as long as you like, but Mother and I won't be in Luxor forever. I think those men would take very good care of you."
He merely sniffed in reply.
"I'll be back with some dinner later," I assured him, then headed for the house.
None of the donkeys had been in the stable, which meant Mother and the others were still out at the dig. I had only to worry about Habiba.
I opened the back door a crack and peeked in. I could hear nothing from the kitchen, nor any other part of the house, so I slipped inside and made my way to my room. I paused at the hall leading to the kitchen and listened again. It was as quiet as a grave. Relieved at this good fortune, I hurried to my room and opened the door.