"How did you come to meet Awi Bubu?" Fenuku asked.
My tongue buzzed and hummed and began moving of its own accord. "I met him when he was performing a magic show at the Alcazar Theater in London." I tried to look down at my tongue, but my nose got in my way. "We went backstage to meet him and grew, er, friendly."
I saw no need to mention that I had sensed he was working true magic rather than tricks. I waited to see if my tongue would volunteer that information, but it did not. The magic seemed to be very literal—it only forced me to answer the questions asked, not volunteer anything extra. "He then came to visit my parents' museum, and while he was there he sensed an artifact of great power."
"Which was?"
"The Emerald Tablet that I returned to your men."
The high priest nodded. "Go on."
"It took him a while to convince me of what it was and its importance. There were a number of other men after it, and I didn't know whom to trust. Some of these men are the very ones that have Gadji now. Anyway, in the end, I guessed some of it—"
"What did you guess?" Baruti asked, eyeing me with a keen gaze.
"Well, he'd told me he was exiled from his own country. And I quickly became aware of his powers—"
"How did you learn of these powers?" Fenuku asked.
Honestly, would they just let me answer one question at a time? "I-I felt them. When he tried to use them against me or to bend me to his will, I was able to sense it. Anyway, I began to do some research, wanting to get to the bottom of the whole affair. In my research I came across the name wedja—" I hesitated.
Baruti nodded. "You may speak that name in this place."
I nodded. "I came across the name wedjadeen scribbled in a few books."
The high priest grew visibly disturbed. "What mention was made of us in these books?"
"Well, the book talked about the Emerald Tablet and claimed that it had been lost in the fire that destroyed the Alexandrian library."
Beside me, I felt Major Grindle stiffen.
"But in the margin was a handwritten note, and it said that there was a rumor that some of the books from the library had been rescued and were hidden in the desert by the wedjadeen."
The three priests grew upset and began talking in low, urgent undertones. After a moment, they turned back to me. "Is that all?"
I swallowed. "No. There was another mention of you made in a diary written by one of Napoleon's men during his occupation of Egypt."
There was more hushed whispering, and then Baruti turned back to me. "But how did these small pieces of knowledge lead you to us, child?"
Fenuku leaned forward. "Did Awi Bubu reveal our secrets to you?" He spoke kindly for the first time, clearly hoping to lull me into trusting him.
He needn't have bothered. I would have sooner trusted a cobra. But I had no intention of finding out what the goddess of truth and justice would do to me if I spoke falsehoods with her symbol painted on my tongue. "He did tell me some of them, sir, after I had guessed quite a lot. Once I read of the wedjadeen's existence, I pieced together that it was they who had once held possession of the artifacts of the gods—"
The high priest gave a bark of frustration. "You know of those? Which of our secrets do you not know?"
I ignored his outburst and waited to see if my tongue would answer on its own. It didn't. Interesting that the Rites of Maat allowed for rhetorical questions. "I had to discover whom to trust, you see. Whom to believe about the Emerald Tablet. When I presented Awi Bubu with what I had learned and told him I would not give him back the tablet without the full story, he finally filled in some of the blanks in my knowledge."
"Traitor," Fenuku spat out. "The man is still a traitor to his people."
"No, sir. It wasn't like that. He—he had another reason for telling me. Only me."
That got their attention. They all looked at me expectantly. "He said he thought I had a role to play in all this." I was finding it surprisingly difficult to stand in front of a group of strangers intent on judging me and try to convince them I was unique. "He said there was something special about me that he could see," I rushed to get out.
I felt rather than saw Major Grindle turn to stare.
The priests put their heads together again and talked among themselves. Finally, they calmed down somewhat and turned back to me. "And as for your role in the disappearance of our young pharaoh...?" the high priest asked.
I quickly told him all that I had explained to the mudir about meeting Gadji and his subsequent disappearance. At last they were satisfied and waved to the priest to let me rinse my mouth. I felt as limp and wrung out as an old rag.
Now it was Major Grindle's turn. Like me, he repeated the exact same story he had told the mudir, which corroborated my own. When he had finished, Baruti leaned forward. "And have you met or do you know of Awi Bubu?"
"No, sir, I'd never heard of the man before five days ago, when Miss Throckmorton and Gadji told me some of their stories."
"So she did not share his confidences with you?"
"No, she did not. Not until I had come face-to-face with your people myself at the request of your young pharaoh. When I demanded an explanation, she gave me one, although"—he tossed a recriminating glance my way—"not the full one."
"And now you know why," I murmured.
"Silence!" Fenuku barked. I must confess, that sem priest was getting on my last nerve. "The most serious charge against this Inglaize is that he put a knife to our pharaoh's throat and threatened his life."
"Nonsense!" Major Grindle said. "I was merely bluffing, and if you were ever to find your precious pharaoh, you could ask him and he would tell you. As soon as I knew he had value to your men, I pretended to be willing to harm him in return for her safety. And he knew I was bluffing. But I will remind you, you were the one that began using children as pawns," he pointed out.
They put their heads together for one more of those beastly, whispered conferences. "Very well," the high priest said at last. "We have heard your testimony and will render judgment on the morrow. You are dismissed until then, but you may not leave the camp."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
An Unexpected Reunion
I AWOKE EARLY THE NEXT MORNING to the sounds of a commotion outside our tent. I scrambled out of my bedroll onto my feet and fumbled over to the tent flap.
Major Grindle beat me there.
"What is it?" I asked, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
"The scouts have returned," he said. "Shall we see what they have to say?"
"Yes, please!"
Together we stepped out into the soft light of dawn. The sun had not even risen over the eastern peaks yet, so it was surprisingly cool out. People had begun to gather where the scouts were dismounting. We hurried to join them.
Safiya stepped next to me just as Khalfani came out of his tent. He spoke to the scouts in Arabic, and I slipped my hand into my pocket for my Babel stone.
"Any sign of the boy?"
The taller scout shook his head. "No. Nothing. When we returned to Karnak, there was nothing, no sign of anyone."
"We separated into three different directions, all trails turning cold," the other scout said. "They have gone to ground, I am afraid."
I wondered that they hadn't asked the god of air to tell them where the men had gone, he being such a big friend of theirs and all.
"Did you question those who lived near the area? Go door to door in the village of Karnak?"
The scout bowed. "But of course. No one knew anything."
"Which is in itself unusual," Khalfani muttered.
The shorter scout stepped forward and pulled something from his robes. "The only sign of their passing was this." He unwrapped the small bundle, and my heart shot to my throat. It was Gadji's monkey, lying limp and lifeless in the man's hands.