The small bit of skin that showed turned pale, then red again. "Young miss does not know what she is talking about," she said, her voice strained.
I decided to try to catch her off-guard. "What have you done with Gadji?"
"Who?"
"The donkey boy in the stable. What have you done with him?"
She looked mortally offended. "I? I have done nothing with him. Who says I have?"
"He is missing, Habiba, and I think you told some very bad men he was staying here and they came and took him away."
"No! This is not true!" Her eyes grew worried.
"Then tell me where you go when you leave here, because otherwise I'll have to assume you are meeting those very bad men."
I felt horrid, almost as though I were bullying the poor woman, but she was the only clue I had.
She glanced toward the doorway.
"Mother's gone back to her room," I told her. "She can't hear you."
Habiba nodded. "Very well. But young miss has secrets of her own, does she not?"
"I do," I said, "but they do not involve kidnapping anyone."
"Neither do mine! No, no. I do not nap the kid, as you say. I am merely going to meetings, that is all."
A vision of my meetings with the Arcane Order of the Black Sun flashed immediately to mind. "What sort of meetings?" I asked.
"Meetings of Egyptians," she said softly. "Meetings where we talk, but that is all, young miss. We just talk."
"What do you talk about?" I asked.
She glanced around the room once more, then back to me. Her black eyes were filled with worry. "Young miss must not tell anyone—not her mother, no one. Understand?"
"Well, I most likely won't tell my mother," I said, "if that makes you feel any better." I was hoping she wouldn't notice how I had evaded the part about not telling anyone.
"I go to the meeting where we talk of Egyptians being in charge of our own land. Where we talk of being in charge of our own selves. I meet with those who would have Egyptians rule over Egyptians so that we are no longer lap dogs of you Inglaize."
I blinked in surprise. I had been expecting a confession that she worked for von Braggenschnott. Or that she was possibly a sleeper agent for the wedjadeen. "You mean you are attending meetings of the Egyptian nationalist movement?"
"Shh! Yes, yes, exactly so. This is the meetings I go to, nothing more."
I found I believed her. It explained so much, and not just about her comings and goings, but about the small knots of Egyptians I'd seen huddling here and there, talking in low voices and watching me with great suspicion. "But why?" I asked, genuinely curious. "We do not hurt you in any way, do we?"
Seeing that I believed her, she appeared to relax a little. "Why does young miss sneak away and do things on her own?"
Not sure where she was going with this, I said, "Well, there are things I need to do that my mother disagrees with."
"Young miss does not like having her mother make all her decisions for her, no? Telling her where she can go and when. Who she can see and for how long. Does young miss like having no control over her own life? How she lives it and what she does with it?"
"Well, no, of course not!"
"And that is how it is with the Inglaize in charge of our country. They are always making the important decisions—how much, how long, who has power over what. And you can be sure that us Egyptians are never on the good side of that trade. No, we are to take what we are given and be grateful, no matter that you Inglaize take from our country what you like."
Honestly, when she put it like that, how could one not belong to the nationalist movement? "I see what you mean, Habiba. It's not fair that you should have to be a child in your own country."
She blinked at me in surprise. "Young miss will not tell her mother? Most Inglaize do not like us to talk so."
"I will not tell my mother. But did you by any chance see the donkey boy today?"
She shook her head. "No, young miss. I did not see him at all."
"Very well. Thank you. And, er, good luck with your meetings."
Once back in the privacy of my own room, I let my shoulders slump as I gave in to the despair I felt. I looked immediately to the bed, my heart lifting when I saw that Isis had returned and was curled up near my pillow. I threw myself down next to her, earning a disgruntled look as my movement jounced her a bit.
"Don't be angry with me," I told her. "I've got quite a lot on my plate, thank you very much." She gave me a bored look and began washing herself. Well, honestly. I knew Gadji and Sefu hadn't been her favorite people, but really. She could at least pretend to care. For my sake.
As I saw it, I had no choice but to go to Major Grindle for help. However, he had told me in no uncertain terms that I was not to travel through the city alone. But how was I to get a message to him? We hadn't talked about that. Or maybe he'd assumed I'd use Gadji.
There was no other choice. I would simply have to risk the major's wrath and hope he'd understand.
Thus resolved, I changed into sturdier clothes for my journey and used the rest of my wardrobe to create a decoy shape in my bed again. If Mother thought I was ill, she might decide to check on me during the night. If the lights were off and she didn't come all the way into the room to feel my forehead, this deception would work. If not, well, the fat would really be in the fire then.
Just as I was putting the finishing touches on the covers, Isis arched her back and hissed at the window.
Already jumpy, I whirled around as a small creature catapulted through the shutters with an unholy screech. I got my arms up in front of my face just in time for them to catch the brunt of the creature's assault. I braced myself for the bite of teeth and the rending of flesh. Instead, I was subjected to clinging little hands with surprisingly strong fingers and a wrinkled little face poking into mine, scolding and chattering loud enough to wake the dead.
Sefu! I nearly laughed with relief.
He was nearly beside himself with agitation. "Shh. Calm down," I whispered, as Isis circled my feet, looking up at Sefu and hissing periodically.
The monkey seemed to understand and managed to lower his chattering. He didn't stop plucking at my sleeve, though, and kept looking back toward the window. "Do you know where he is?" I asked.
Sefu bobbed his head up and down.
"Really? You understand me?"
He chattered and plucked at my sleeve again, then leaped back onto the windowsill and waited. "All right. I'm coming. But I need to make a side trip first. I'm going to need some help."
He screeched and flailed his arms at me.
"I mean, help other than what you can offer me," I quickly explained. Annoyed that I was paying so much attention to this miserable creature, Isis leaped toward the window, feinting a swipe in the monkey's direction. "Stop that," I scolded. "Wait a minute! How would you like to go on an outing?" I asked her. "A midnight outing?"
Isis turned away from Sefu, looked at me, then flicked her tail. Perfect. I would not be traveling through the city alone after all.
Isis did not take kindly to being put on a leash. However, once I explained to her that she would not be able to protect me if she was in her wicker basket, she submitted to the long sash I had hastily fashioned.
Sefu, on the other hand, wouldn't even come to me, much less let me carry him. He scampered around my room in his agitated state, anxious for us to get moving. He was not going to be happy when he discovered I wasn't planning on following him right away.
It was too risky to try to sneak out through the door, so instead I lifted Isis to the windowsill and climbed up next to her. Holding her safely in my arms, I dropped the few feet to the dirt below, grateful that the only sound was a faint crunch beneath my boots.