Everything was exactly as it had been. Even better, Isis was curled up on my bed, waiting for me. Perfect. Nothing aided my thinking processes like petting my cat, and this day had certainly given me lots to think about. I stretched out next to Isis and began petting her.
Could Gadji be descended from the great pharaohs of ancient Egypt? I tried to remember all that Awi Bubu had told me about the wedjadeen and their place in Egyptian history. He had claimed that, due to the wedjadeen's help, Nectanebo II had been the secret father of Alexander the Great. What if Nectanebo II had fathered other children? If the wedjadeen could watch over and guard the artifacts of the gods for thousands of years, why not an ancient, royal bloodline?
There was also something else. A vague, unformed memory that had niggled at me in Major Grindle's office now began to take shape.
Awi Bubu claimed he was exiled because of something precious he had lost. What if that something precious had been Egypt's last pharaoh? The thought nearly took my breath away.
Under my hand, Isis stiffened and raised her head. At first, I thought she'd somehow intuited what I was thinking, but then I realized she was merely staring at the wall in that way cats do, as if they can see through them. I cocked my head and listened just in time to hear the faint whisper of a door closing. Habiba must be back. Mother wouldn't sneak in like that.
I waited for a few minutes, wondering if she would come check on me, and tried to imagine what sort of secret business could she possibly have.
Of course, I didn't really know it was secret business—it might just seem that way. It's hard not to appear intriguing and mysterious when one is draped in black from head to toe.
When no one came to check on me, I relaxed and resumed petting Isis. I bet she knew what Habiba did all day. Too bad she couldn't talk. My hand stilled as a great big shocking idea came to me. Would Major Grindle's Babel stone work on animals?
Eager to try, I fumbled in my pockets for the thin sliver of stone. I grasped it tightly in my left hand while I continued petting Isis with my right. Now to get her to talk.
I took my hand away. After a second, she lifted her head and stared at me, wanting me to get on with it. I withheld my hand, waiting for her to give a meow of complaint. Instead, she just watched me steadily with her brilliant green eyes. After a long moment, she uncurled herself from my side and stretched out her neck to sniff the stone in my hand. With one last reproachful glance at me, she jumped down from the bed and hopped up onto the windowsill, then disappeared into the growing dusk. Bother. That experiment had failed on all counts.
Before I could decide what to do next, I heard the clatter of hooves in the courtyard. Mother was home! I cast all thoughts of ancient bloodlines and centuries-old secrets aside and went to hear how the day's excavation had progressed.
I met Mother just as she was coming in the door. "Hello, darling!" she said, stripping off her gloves. "How are you feeling?"
Oh. Right. "Better," I said. "Much better, actually. Spending the entire day in a cool room seems to have taken care of it. I'm sure I'll be able to go with you tomorrow."
"Excellent!" She reached out and kissed my cheek. When she pulled away, Habiba was standing in the doorway, watching us. "Oh, Habiba," Mother said. "I'm famished. Let me just wash up and then I think we'll have dinner."
Habiba nodded, then disappeared back down the hallway. Even though I had already washed, I was not anxious to be alone with Habiba in case she tried to ask me any questions. "I'll go wash up, too, then meet you in the dining room," I told Mother.
Ten minutes later, Mother and I sat down to a dinner of spicy lamb stew. "So?" I asked. "Did you find any more columns? Anything to indicate it's not just an outbuilding belonging to Hatshepsut's temple?"
"We did! We found at least twelve more columns, and probably more than that. It appears as if the temple is in very good shape; it's just completely buried under piles of dirt and rubble. The cliffs overhead must have collapsed long ago and buried it. Being buried in rubble might well have helped to aid preservation."
"Excellent!" I said, trying to scrounge up some excitement. Surely it would feel different when I was back on the dig with them, I assured myself. "So what's on the schedule for tomorrow?"
"More digging. We think we can clear out the first terrace by the end of the week if we keep at it. We'll know much more then about what we've truly discovered."
"Wonderful!" I said. "I can't wait to get started." Which reminded me. "Mother?"
"Yes, dear."
"Since we have so very much digging to do, what do you think about having Gadji, the donkey boy, come work with us? There aren't any donkeys for him to tend to during the day, and it would teach him a skill he could use to better himself." And that way I could keep an eye on his safety.
"That is an excellent idea, Theo. The more people we have digging, the sooner we'll learn what we have found."
Habiba came in just then, her dark, heavy presence causing my mouth to snap shut. I avoided looking at her as she moved around the table, setting new dishes down and clearing the old ones. I wondered if she knew I had left the house today. Unable to help myself, I slowly looked up, not surprised when I found her eyes above her veil watching me. She gave the faintest of nods, then glanced briefly at Mother. When Habiba saw that Mother was not watching us, she held her finger to her lips, so briefly that I almost missed it. I nearly dropped my fork in surprise. Before I could respond, she left to carry the dishes back to the kitchen, pausing once in the doorway to look over her shoulder. Honestly! What did she mean by that? That I should keep her secrets? Or that she would keep mine?
I loathe hand signals. They are harder to decipher than hieroglyphs.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Facing the Goddess
THE NEXT MORNING I felt a tad nervous about seeing Gadji. It felt wrong to have the last pharaoh saddling my donkey. But as it turned out, he was nowhere to be seen. Before I could worry over much I saw Sefu hiding up in the rafters, which meant Gadji was somewhere nearby. And while I was sorry not to be able to tell him that I'd found him a new job, I refused to let it ruin my day—the first day of nothing but pure archaeology with no beastly intrigue.
Nabir grumbled a bit about Gadji's absence, but the donkeys had already been saddled so it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. We mounted the beasts and rode out into the morning. "I have a wonderful feeling about what today might hold," I told Mother.
She smiled at me. "If you could pull something else out of your hat, that would be absolutely brilliant!"
I frowned slightly. I had meant only that I was looking forward to being back on the dig with her and the others, but now it appeared that she expected me to find something else, something even more remarkable. I'd been working so hard at keeping my spirits high that morning, but with one careless remark, Mother had taken all the wind from my sails.
We spent a hot, dusty morning up to our elbows in dirt and rubble. It was hard work, horribly hot and painstakingly tedious. Even so, it was the true work of an archaeologist, with no intrigue or power-hungry secret societies in sight. I should have been happier. Even Jadwiga, for all his depressing bluster, seemed to have moved up a notch in mood from desolate to merely dispirited.
I did begin to wonder, though, just how happy Gadji would be when he learned what I'd signed him up for. Mucking around in dust and rubble couldn't hold a candle to being a pharaoh.
Was that where Gadji was? I stopped digging. Had he decided to return to the wedjadeen? No, Sefu had still been there and Gadji would never have gone anywhere without that monkey.