Theodosia and the Last Pharaoh (The Theodosia Series)

by R. L. LaFevers

  "I am the Benu bird, the soul of Re, who guides the gods to the Duat when they go forth."

  "...they have raised up tumult; they have done wrong..."

  "They have reduced what was great to what was little."

  "Hail to Him who dwells in His shrine, who rises and shines..."

  "Theodosia?"

  I jumped at the sound of Mother's voice, and the whispering receded. "Yes, Mother?"

  "Did you want to lead the way to your portion of the tomb?"

  A small wave of pride swept through me, followed quickly by embarrassment as I felt everyone turn to look at me. I never thought professional admiration would feel so awkward.

  Trying to hold myself casually, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary, I walked toward the annex.

  The thick wall of black magic in front of the annex was so vile that I stumbled and gasped out loud. When I regained my balance, I glanced quickly over at Mother, but she was too busy talking to Rumpf to have seen. Jadwiga, on the other hand, sent me a mournful look, as if he expected me to drop dead any minute.

  Gritting my teeth against the sensation, I continued forward. Honestly, the air was so heavy with the weight of all the magic—how could the others not feel it? Or smell it, I thought, wrinkling my nose against the slight stench of sulfur. The walls here were covered with grisly scenes of war and the pharaoh crushing his enemies. Even though the red paint they had used had faded over the centuries, it still looked like spilled blood.

  As I stared at the walls around me, I couldn't help but look at them with eyes opened by the newest interpretation of the stele we had deciphered over the past few months. Was this just the tomb of the minister of war? Or was it a mortuary temple giving thanks to the Egyptian god of war, Mantu, for all of Thutmose's victories?

  Or did it hold vital clues to an as-yet-undiscovered temple of Thutmose III, which is what I had convinced my parents of?

  "We'll need a way to get down," I told Mother.

  "Yes, dear. We brought one." She stepped aside and Nabir came forward carrying a wooden ladder. He carefully set it in place, making sure the foot was secure on the level below, then went down to hold it for the rest of us.

  I descended quickly, followed by Mother and the others, and went down the short corridor to the tomb proper. Caution warred with eagerness, and I thrust my electric torch out in front of me to illuminate the annex, then gasped. "What did you do with all the things that were in here?" I asked.

  Mother frowned. "What things, dear?"

  I waved my hand frantically. "The artifacts, the treasure—those things."

  Mother glanced uneasily at the others and lowered her voice. "There was nothing in here when your father came back. But it is still a wonderful discovery," she rushed to add.

  I turned away from her, feeling sick. For there had been treasure. Loads of it. Which meant that the Serpents of Chaos had found the time to remove it before Father had returned after taking me to a doctor.

  Almost afraid to look, I raised my eyes to the far end of the chamber, which sported a huge image of Thutmose III carved in bas-relief. On his chest sat the Heart of Egypt. The last time I had seen it, von Braggenschnott had clung to the wall, his hand caught in the dark magic that had sealed the amulet to the wall. I was immeasurably relieved to discover his hand was not still there, a useless, shriveled limb.

  "Why, look at that!" Mother said, drawing closer and raising her electric torch. "It looks just like the Heart of Egypt."

  It was the Heart of Egypt, but I didn't explain that to her. Best if she thought her artifact had been stolen by a clever thief rather than learn it had been returned to its rightful resting place by her own daughter.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Where For Art Thou, O Temple

  NEARLY THREE HOURS LATER, my eyes were crossed and I had a beastly headache. We had decided to break up into groups, each one taking a different portion of the multisectioned tomb. That way we could cover the most ground initially, then crosscheck one another's work if we didn't stumble upon what we were hoping for. But honestly, didn't they ever stop for lunch?

  I turned away from the carvings in front of me to ask Mother that very question, only to find I was alone in the chamber. They had better not have broken off for luncheon and not told me!

  Or worse, have left without me, I thought when I didn't hear any other voices nearby. Which meant I was quite alone in the secret annex I had discovered. Drawn by some unseen hand, I found myself moving toward the far wall and the huge carving of Thutmose III. When I had first seen it, his face had been grim and terrible, a portrait of gruesome retribution. But once I had returned the Heart of Egypt to its place on the wall, all that had changed. Whatever magic had allowed the amulet to become a part of the carving had also shifted Thutmose back into a mighty yet beneficent ruler.

  There was absolutely no sign of von Braggenschnott's hand. Not so much as a scrap of flesh or a fingernail to be seen. How had they gotten it out, I wondered? Had they cut it out? Or used magic? I leaned in closer to inspect the Heart of Egypt. It was well and truly fused with the wall now. When they had named it the Heart of Egypt, they had been quite literal, indeed.

  I froze. That was it—a literal interpretation!

  We had found many references to a temple of Thutmose III, and the way it was mentioned made it clear that it wasn't simply a temple here in the tomb. What if all the inscriptions about Thutmose being no longer content to stand in Hatshepsut's shadow and wanting to stand above her were a literal observation rather than a comment on her usurping his reign?

  What if the inscriptions were directions to an actual location?

  Perhaps we should begin looking at all the monuments and buildings that Hatshepsut had erected.

  As soon as the thought formed in my head, it was followed by an image I had seen early that morning on the way to the valley—the mortuary temple of Hatshepsut built directly into the cliffs at Deir el-Bahri. I snapped my fingers. "That's it!"

  "What's it, dear?" Mother's voice came from directly behind me. "Are you ready for lunch?"

  Too excited now to even think of food, I whirled around to face Mother. "Hatshepsut's temple at Deir el-Bahri. That's where we should begin looking."

  "Why there?"

  I quickly explained all the references to temples that I had seen on the tomb walls that morning and my new belief that they were to be taken literally.

  "Eureka!" Mother said, beaming at the wall.

  "Eureka?" I asked.

  "Well, it's what they shout when they find gold, and this is better than gold! Oh, you are brilliant, my daughter!" She flung her arms around me and gave me a giant hug that sent all the air whooshing from my lungs. I was so thrilled that she thought me brilliant that I didn't mind a bit.

  I could only hope that brilliant made up for peculiar.

  ***

  As we rode back through the valley toward home that evening, I almost didn't need my donkey. It felt as if the thrill of my discovery had given wings to my feet. I had forgotten my hunger, and my headache had disappeared, and I was certain I could have worked all night.

  However, the others needed rest. And I had to admit, as we drew closer to home, my euphoria began to seep away, leaving only a deeply satisfying exhaustion behind.

  When we reached the house, Gadji came out to greet us and take our donkeys. I raised my eyebrows in question, and he gave a quick shake of his head.

  As Mother and Nabir left for the house, I lingered behind. "No luck?" I asked.

  He shook his head. "They is all gone. No signs of them left anywhere. Big Inglaize hotels where family used to be."

  "I'm so sorry." I thought for a moment. "What about shops? Did your family do their shopping at one place? Maybe they still shop there even though they changed houses?"

  Gadji's face cleared. "Indeed, by Jove. I will try there next."

  That settled, I made my way to the house, anxious for a quick wash before supper. I went immediately to my roo
m.

  And nearly shouted in surprise. The entire room had been ransacked. My bedcovers had been scattered and thrown to the floor, my traveling chest turned upside down, the drawers pulled open and everything topsy-turvy. Even Isis's carrying basket had been dumped upside down. My gaze flew to the sandbox, which had been scooted over a few inches, but all the contents seemed to be intact. Needing to be absolutely sure, I went over and knelt by the box. I hesitated a moment, almost afraid to know. If it had been taken, then what?

  I took a deep breath, gripped the side of the box, and lifted it an inch. It was still heavy with the tablet. Wanting to be extra certain, I picked up one of the pencils that had fallen to the floor and poked around in the dirt until I felt the tablet itself.

  Nearly weak with relief, I turned back to the room. "Isis?" I called softly, for she was nowhere to be seen.

  There was a faint warble, and then her sleek black head poked out from under the bed. "Isis," I said, joy running through me. I hurried over to the bed, picked her up, and held her close to my chest. "I'm so sorry!" I said, leaning in to touch my nose to hers. Still holding her, I sat down on my bed and stared at the mess around me. Who had done this?

  Isis wriggled in my arms, wanting down. I gently placed her on the floor, and she hurried over to the window. I opened it to let her out. As I watched her, I found myself wishing desperately that she could talk. Leaving the window open, I returned my attention to the room. Best to get it cleaned up before Mother saw it.

  That thought lit a fire under me and I began scooping up the scattered clothes and returning them to their proper places. As I worked, I tried to puzzle out who the searchers might have been. My first assumption was Chaos, but that was just a guess. There was no evidence that it was, except my deep and abiding distrust of them. I grunted as I set my trunk back to rights.

  Could Gadji have done this? I actually knew very little about him. Perhaps he thought I had money or valuables hidden away in here. One could hardly blame him. He had so little. Being a beggar must be wearing on the soul.

  Or what about Habiba? She skulked around here like a dark, silent shadow. Hmm—it was nearly dinnertime. Perhaps I would go to the kitchen for something to eat. That would give me a chance to further observe our mysterious housekeeper.

  As I drew near the kitchen, delicious smells met me in the corridor. I found myself hoping it wasn't Habiba who'd searched my room. It would be a shame to lose such a good cook. Especially since Mother couldn't be counted on to fill in if push came to shove.

  When I stepped into the kitchen, Habiba looked up from the counter, where she was chopping something with an exceedingly sharp knife. I swallowed. Maybe this wasn't such a very good idea, after all.

  A flicker of something moved in her dark eyes when she saw it was me. "Miss Effendi need something?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said. "I'm a bit hungry and thought I would check on how long till dinner."

  "Not long now." She turned back to her chopping, her hands wielding the knife in quick, precise movements.

  "Have you had a busy day?" I asked.

  "Oh, very busy. I cook and clean and cook some more." She looked up and met my eyes again, and I cursed the veil that hid most of her face. It wouldn't hurt to keep a more careful eye on our housekeeper.

  Today had been close. Too close. Someone had known we would be gone and had taken full advantage of our absence. I needed to get rid of the tablet before it fell into the wrong hands.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The Agony and the Ecstasy

  THE NEXT MORNING, Mother woke me bright and early. "We're scheduled to take photographs of the inside of Thutmose Ill's tomb today," she announced. "You'll find it very interesting, Theo."

  I knew I would, but there was something else I had to do before allowing myself to return to the excavation site. "I'm afraid I don't feel well, Mother. I think I should stay home today and rest."

  "What's wrong, dear?" She hurried to my bed and placed her cool hand on my forehead.

  "Perhaps I took too much sun?"

  She frowned. "You were inside the tomb all day," she pointed out.

  Bother. "Perhaps it was the heat, then? Or maybe I just got overexcited."

  She smiled. "It was a rather exciting day, I'll grant you that."

  "I think it would do me good to stay home and rest. I'm sure I'll be right as rain in a day or two."

  Her face fell. "Well, if you really think so. I'll miss you on the dig. You're a huge help, you know. Besides, I can hardly wait to see what you'll discover next! You definitely have a knack for this work, Theo."

  Her words were music to my ears! Music I had waited years to hear from my mother's lips. But duty—and deathbed promises—called. Completely unaware of the agony I was going through, Mother smiled. "I suppose we can manage without you this once. I'll tell Habiba." And with that, she got up and left the room, leaving me alone with my horrid promises to Awi Bubu and Lord Wigmere.

  Clearly it had been only sheer chance that whoever had searched my room hadn't found the Emerald Tablet. But they would keep searching, of that I was certain.

  I would have liked to pay my visit to the Luxor temple in the cool of the morning, but I knew the tourists would be out in full force then. Best if as few people as possible were there when I left my message to request a meeting with the wedjadeen. Consequently, I spent a long, slow morning in my room, brooding about the grandfather I never knew. I could still hardly stomach my family's perfidy. That they would have kept so much from me! How could I ever trust them again? Not to mention that the weight of their disapproval had suffocated me for years. How comforting it would have been to know that I had had a grandfather just like myself.

  Although, after what had happened to him, that realization might not have been as comforting as one would hope. My grandfather (how odd that sounds!) had been a grown man, and look how badly things had turned out for him. What chance did I, an almost twelve-year-old girl, have to do any better?

  The truth was, I couldn't wait to return the orb and the tablet to the wedjadeen so I could concentrate wholly on being an unpeculiar archaeologist.

  By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was not in the best of moods. When Quillings's hideous watch contraption told me it was one o'clock, I was only too glad to get moving. I dressed quickly, made my bed, and left a lump of my old clothes carefully concealed under the covers. There, I thought, with one last prod at the decoy. That should look as though I were fast asleep to the casual observer. And hopefully, that was what Habiba was—a casual observer. It occurred to me that she could be a well-placed spy on behalf of Chaos, but Arab women led such sheltered and secluded lives that I didn't see how that could be the case.

  Habiba was busy in the kitchen, so it was easy enough to sneak out to the stable, which was empty. Gadji and Sefu must have been off looking for Gadji's family. A sharp slice of regret cut through me and I was filled with a nearly overwhelming desire to have Sticky Will at my back for this adventure. But, of course, that was impossible, since he was an entire continent away. I gave myself a mental rap on the head and told myself to get on with it. How hard could it be to find the Luxor temple, anyway? Surely a landmark so popular with tourists and scholars would be easy enough to find.

  I quickly discovered that finding it wasn't the problem—it was making my way through the small army of shopkeepers trying to sell post cards or ostrich feather fans or dragomen trying to talk me into hiring them. There was a small army of donkey boys, all shouting the virtues of their beasts at the top of their lungs, as well as men hawking antikahs and children begging for baksheesh. Finally, out of sheer self-defense, I hired one of the older children to act as my guide and lead me through the din and clamor to the temple.

  It worked. Dodging and ducking around the clusters of locals, he led me through a maze of streets lined with shops and bazaars until we at last came upon the temple. It sat, solemn and majestic, spreading out for as far as the eye could see.

&nbs
p; I paid the boy his coin and, in spite of his desire to stay and show me the temple, sent him on his way. I wanted to experience this ancient wonder without the constant chatter of my guide.

  As the padding of his footsteps disappeared, I stared up at the marvel in front of me and felt as if I had been transported back to the days of the pharaohs. This was the place where the essence of the gods had lived. They had been worshiped here, housed, fed, clothed, and celebrated. There was no hint of dark magic or curses coming from anywhere nearby. Only a sense of unearthly power wafted across my skin, a faint breeze of sensation that felt both hushed and holy. There was also something just the tiniest bit familiar. With a flutter of recognition, I realized I'd felt a similar trickle of power coming off the artifacts of the gods that I'd handled. Now that I'd spent time in Egypt, so close to the source of all these magics, I was able to better distinguish the nuances between them.

  A single obelisk rose up against the brilliant blue sky, and two rows of sphinxes guarded the entrance to the temple. Two colossal statues of Ramses II sat on either side of the entrance, imposing guardians of this once-sacred place.

  No, it was still sacred, I thought.

  I straightened my shoulders and tightened my grip on the reticule, then made my way down the procession of sphinxes. They were just statues, I reminded myself, even if it did feel as if they were watching me.

  Luckily, most of the tourists had returned to their hotels and the temple appeared deserted. It was eerie, really, and if I hadn't needed to conduct my business in utmost secrecy, I would have been slightly unnerved.

  The thick walls of the temple were covered in carvings, scenes of a battle of some sort. My hands itched to trace them so I could study them later, but there would be time enough for that once my promises had been kept.

  I passed through the pylon, a shiver dancing along my shoulders as I did so, and entered the Court of Nectanebo II, the last true Egyptian pharaoh. On the left was a mosque, built much later, but on the right was the triple-barque shrine constructed by the great builder pharaoh, Ramses II. Yet another ancient marvel I had no time for this afternoon. I forced myself to cross the courtyard to the great papyrus-styled columns that lined the path to the inner sanctuaries of the temple. The truth was, it was physically painful to be among all these ancient wonders and have no time to examine them properly. In the end, I made myself stop looking and hurried through with my head down.