"But we'll be trapped like—"
"Shh!" I poked my ear outside the door, trying to hear if von Braggenschnott was following us. And if so, how close behind he was. I heard nothing, which was good. Just how far away were the wedjadeen, anyway? "Gadji, you take the door. Tell me if you hear anyone coming."
"Yes, effendi miss."
Fenuku had told me to make use of being a Rekhet, but I had no practice being one. I'd really only removed curses and nursed Sefu back to health. But as we'd run through the temple, a plan had formed in my mind. It was a long shot, but it was all I could come up with. I glanced down. "I'll need you," I told Isis.
She meowed and flicked her tail, as if that announcement was not news to her. And if she was truly a bau, like Baruti had claimed, then it probably wasn't.
"Mother, do you have a pencil or a pen nib? Even a hairpin will do." I reached into my pocket for the compact of sandstone from the inside of a pharaoh's tomb. "Isis, up here." I patted the plinth where the statues of the gods once sat. The power was greatest there, and if I was going to call on them for help, I needed to get as close as I could.
"Here." Mother handed me a hairpin. When I took it from her, our eyes met. Her gaze held fear and confusion. I could only hope the fear wasn't directed at me. Best not to think about that now. "Thank you, Mother. Now please go stand on the other side of Gadji, away from the door."
"Theo..." Her eyes pleaded with me, and I couldn't tell if they were pleading for me to make this all go away or to go back to being only slightly peculiar rather than downright scary.
"We don't have time, Mother. Please trust me on this." Our gazes held and I tried to open my soul to her, to let her see that while I was about to do some very strange things, I was still her (hopefully beloved!) daughter. She nodded, and I let out my breath and turned to my cat.
"Are you up for this?" I asked Isis as I set the silver compact on the stone plinth next to her. She purred, which I took as a very good sign.
Rituals and rubrics, spells and mysteries, swirled in my head—all the wonders I had seen and experienced for the past five days. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I could do this. I could. I opened my eyes again and faltered.
But maybe not with Mother watching. "Mother, would you mind facing the wall?"
With an impatient sigh, she did as I asked and I turned back to Isis.
"I hears footsteps, miss!"
My heart stuttered. "One set or many?"
He listened more closely. "Only one set, miss."
Bother. It most likely wasn't the cavalry, then. We were being pursued.
Shutting all visions of von Braggenschnott out of my mind, I did my best to focus.
I licked the hairpin to wet it, then dipped it into the tomb dust. As quickly as I could, I began to sketch a figure along Isis's back. It was difficult, because fur is a tricky writing surface at best, but I kept dipping and drawing, dipping and drawing, replenishing the pin with dust so that a faint, shadowy outline of the great goddess Sekhmet began to take shape on Isis's back.
It was the only thing I could think of, trying to tap into the gods' heka, just like Baruti had done when he'd prepared the wedjadeen for battle.
"Footsteps is being closer, miss!"
"Almost done, Gadji. And when I say so, throw yourself back against the wall with Mother."
I dipped the pin one last time into the dust and traced an Eye of Ra over Isis's heart, then enclosed it with a shen symbol, the rope with no beginning and no end that would contain Sekhmet's fierceness. There. That was all I could do.
I had no sistrum, no drum, no incense. Only my hands and fervent pleas. I clapped three times very loudly, the small chamber causing the noise to amplify.
"Theo," Mother hissed. "You'll give away our hiding place."
I should have reassured her, but I was too enthralled with what was happening on the plinth before me. Isis was writhing and hissing, her body pulsating, growing larger.
"Uh-ohs," Gadji said.
Unable to stand not knowing what was happening, Mother turned away from the wall and bit back a scream.
Isis spilled onto the floor, power running along her fur in ripples. She was now the size of a small dog. "H-has she gone rabid?" Mother asked, plastering herself against the wall in an effort to avoid touching my cat.
"No, she's just protecting us." My voice was a little high and breathless, either from all the magic in the air or because I was just the teensiest bit worried.
"Footsteps is being in the next chamber, miss!" Gadji shouted, then darted onto the other side of Mother.
"Fräulein?" The ragged whisper was more chilling than any shout. "Fräulein, there is no way out. You cannot escape me this time."
Just then, a lion-size Isis gave a snarling scream that had the others cowering against the wall. I looked at her, her eyes no longer familiar or recognizable. They were filled with destruction. "Go," I whispered. "Keep us safe."
With a throaty roar, the giant Isis bounded out of the chamber.
Von Braggenschnott's shout of surprise was cut off with a snarl and a gurgle. Low growls were followed by a loud thud as something connected with one of the columns. Von Braggenschnott, perhaps? Isis let loose with a roar that shook the roof, and then we heard the soft pad of her paws as she bounded away. I closed my eyes and said a silent thank-you.
After a few seconds, more roars and screams erupted from somewhere near the front of the temple. I poked my head out. "It looks clear," I told the others. "Let's get out of here before we're trapped again." I grabbed Gadji's hand, then held my other out to Mother. She stared at it, and for one horrid moment, I was afraid she wasn't going to take it. Just when I started to wilt inside, she grabbed it, and I savored the feel of her hand in mine. We ran.
We tore out of the small room into the Hall of Hours and raced back the way we'd come. I could hear the sound of fighting far off—in the main courtyard, perhaps—but steered well clear of that. We finally made it to yet another wretched vestibule, then out into the open air. I paused for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
Another loud roar came from deep inside the temple, followed by shouts and yelling. I was relatively certain that Isis wouldn't hurt me, not even in her Sekhmet incarnation, but I wasn't sure about Mother and Gadji. "Come on," I said.
"Where are we going?" Mother asked.
"There." I pointed with my elbow.
"Where?" Her voice wobbled a bit.
"There, Mother, into the crowd."
"Theo, I really don't think—"
"Mother. Trust me. We are far safer with those angry demonstrating Egyptians than we are with the men back in the temple."
"Right." She nodded once, then began hurrying alongside me.
"And you," I said to Gadji, "should be right at home!"
He gave me one of those cocky grins I'd missed so much. "Just like old times, eh, miss?"
And then we reached the fringes of the crowd. I plunged into the masses, bumping into one body, then another, murmuring, "Excuse me," every ten seconds as I wormed my way farther and farther into the crowd. No one seemed to pay us any mind at first, and then slowly, space began opening up between us and the other demonstrators as they realized there were two English women in their midst.
I stared at the puzzled, angry faces, and I could not fault them a bit. Not only had we come into their country and plundered their treasure for our own museums, they were the first we blamed when one of our own went missing. We had done them a great disservice. I could only hope that by restoring Gadji to the wedjadeen, they would be able to put him on Egypt's throne one day and give their country its own ruler, one they deserved.
As the voices around us died down, however, I began to feel extremely uncomfortable. In the sea of white and black robes, there was an occasional black veil. And then I had a great big wonderful idea. Surely our housekeeper would not miss a demonstration such as this.
"Habiba!" I called out. "Habiba?" I turned around, searching the other side of the crowd. "Habiba, are you out there?"
There was stunned silence, and people began to look at one another, shaking their heads. "Habiba!" I tried one more time, dead tired and wanting nothing more than for all of this to be over and for me to be back in our little bungalow. "Habiba!"
Slowly the crowd parted and a hesitant black-swathed figure crept forward, glancing at those beside her and shrugging her shoulders, as if she could not account for the craziness of the Inglaize. As she drew closer, her hand flew to her mouth. "Young miss? Madams?"
"Oh, Habiba!" I pulled my elbow from Mother's grip, hurried over to the stunned Egyptian woman, and threw my arms around her neck. "Thank you for finding us!"