Mirage

by Monica Burns

  She watched as Altair opened one of the trunks and retrieved several items, stuffing them into a knapsack. When he’d finished, he returned to her side at the tent’s entrance. The look of disquiet on his face troubled her, and she frowned as he looked away from her.

  “Alex, I have something to tell you,” he said.

  The tension in his body was palpable in its intensity. Suddenly wary of him, she struggled to keep from taking a step back. What had he done? Oh God, he’d contacted the British Museum. How could he? He’d given his word. A wave of fury welled inside her as she tried to calm her fears.

  “What is it?”

  If possible, his posture grew even more rigid, and she noted the way the muscle in his cheek twitched as he clenched his jaw. He glanced away from her, then back again. After what seemed like an eternity, he heaved a sigh. “While you were ill, I went back to the palace to do some exploring. I found another room adjoining Pharaoh’s chamber. It’s a shrine to Nourbese.”

  Relief washed away her tension in a huge wave. He’d not betrayed her. He’d not broken his word. Giddy with joy, she shook her head with a laugh. “Heavens, I thought you were going to tell me you had contacted the British Museum.”

  He flinched at the remark. “And if I had?”

  “Well, you didn’t, so that’s a moot question.”

  For a brief moment, she thought she saw anguish flicker in his gaze before it vanished. With a brusque nod, he cupped her elbow, and they walked toward the holding area for the camels.

  Silence fell between them, but Alex didn’t mind. She was with the man she loved, and they were going to explore Ramesses’ palace. Soon, she’d find Nourbese’s tomb. That final achievement would solidify her credibility as an archeologist despite the misguided beliefs about her gender.

  The ride to the palace was longer than she’d have liked, but Altair had insisted on taking the long route. She’d started to protest his decision, but the disaster of her last visit to the palace was enough to make her remain silent.

  As they approached the entrance, she noticed Altair had been busy over the last three days. Although he’d never left her side at night, he’d entrusted her care to Gameela during the day. Now, as the camels lumbered toward the palace, she could see he’d had her work tent and materials transferred to the plateau. Her heart warmed at the thought.

  His thoughtfulness and regard for her could not have been clearer. As they dismounted, she stood in his tall shadow. Looking up at him, she smiled. “Thank you for moving my work tent down here. It will make things much easier.”

  He smiled and ran his index finger along her jaw line. A flame sparked in his dark eyes, and she trembled at his touch. “You can thank me later, emîra. Right now, Ramesses’ palace and Nourbese await you.”

  Nodding, she moved toward the dark entryway of the palace with Altair close on her heels. At the entrance, she realized someone had built steps down into the buried palace. She hesitated and turned her head to meet his watchful gaze. He arched an arrogant eyebrow.

  “I was getting tired of pulling myself up out of that hole. I thought steps would make it easier on all concerned.”

  With a smile, she gave a slight nod of her head, but remained silent. Carefully, she made her way down the wooden steps to the palace floor. The inside of the palace was well lit from a large number of torches, and she knew these were Altair’s doing as well. It was amazing what he’d accomplished during her short recovery period.

  Glancing around the main chamber, she had to force herself to restrain her laugh of excitement. Behind her, Altair descended the stairs. As he halted next to her, she looked up to see a small smile on his lips. She smiled back.

  “Well, emîra, where shall we start?”

  Her fingers trembled as she pulled her notebook from her knapsack. She wanted to go back to Pharaoh’s chamber. Altair had said he’d found a shrine to Nourbese there. Excitement and tension charged the air as she looked at the map she’d made during her last visit. She glanced at the corridor almost directly in front of her.

  “Are there torches throughout the palace?”

  Altair shook his head. “I instructed the men to place torches only along the path you marked on the walls. I instructed them not to do any exploring in areas you’d not visited. However, as I told you, I found the shrine to Nourbese off Pharaoh’s bedchamber.”

  There was a hint of regret in his voice, which made her smile. Quickly, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Over the past few days, he’d done everything in his power to ensure her every wish was granted. She didn’t begrudge him the curiosity. Pulling back from him, she caught the brief flash of anxiety in his gaze.

  He’d been on edge ever since he’d rescued her. A terrible burden rested on his shoulders, but he was unwilling to share it with her. Every time she tried pressing him for an explanation, it only resulted in his complete withdrawal from her. She could only hope that he would reveal his thoughts in the near future. He arched an eyebrow at her in the manner she loved, and she grinned. “Let’s go look at Pharaoh’s chamber.”

  Without waiting for him, she followed the torch-lined path until she reached Ramesses’ personal quarters. Kneeling in front of the stone slab that declared the room belonged to Pharaoh, Alex ran her fingertips over the hieroglyphs carved into the stone. Altair entered the room and knelt at her side.

  “I didn’t see these markings before. Did you notice them the last time?” He pointed to another set of symbols two slabs further into the room.

  “No, I was too sick to do anything but try to return to camp at this point.”

  He scooted forward and pulled a brush from his gambaz. Quickly he dusted off the stone, his fingers splayed across the yellowish surface. Joining him, she listened as he translated the markings.

  “From the west she comes to aid Pharaoh and his beloved.”

  Alex sank back onto her heels. Puzzled, she studied the odd expression of amazement on Altair’s face. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Yes, it’s a reference to the prophecy.”

  “Prophecy? What prophecy?”

  “The Mazir prophecy about Nourbese.” His fingers traced the hieroglyphics. “It’s been handed down for generations.”

  Intrigued, she stared at him in puzzlement. “Why haven’t you told me this before? Tell me what the prophecy says.”

  “I thought you already knew it.” The surprise in his voice made her laugh.

  “No.” She laughed again. “Would I be asking if I did?”

  The foreboding look on his face made her grow silent. He studied her face for a moment, then turned back to stare at the hieroglyphics on the slab. “The prophecy has been handed down from one generation of Mazir to the next since the time of Ramesses and Nourbese.”

  “And?”

  “It says that from the new world, a woman crowned in hawk feathers will come to find Pharaoh’s wife. She will return the jars of life to Nourbese, enabling her spirit to join Ramesses in the afterlife. In return, Pharaoh’s beloved will bestow a wealth of ancient knowledge and treasure on her deliverer, which will benefit all the Mazir.”

  Alex arched her eyebrow at him. “Do you believe it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would you believe a folk tale? Isn’t it part of your work with the Museum to deal in facts, not superstitions?”

  “This isn’t about my position with the Museum. It’s about you and what I’ve seen.”

  “Me!” She shot up both her eyebrows as she studied him. Had the man gone daft on her? Why would he think the prophecy had anything to do with her? What was it he’d said—from the new world, a woman crowned in hawk—

  Many Europeans still referred to America as the New World. And a hawk’s feathers were brown just like her hair. Staring at him, she shook her head in amazement.

  “You think I’m the one in the prophecy.” />
  “I know you are.”

  “But it’s just a legend. How can you put any stock in it?”

  Altair scrambled to his feet to pace the stone floor. Watching him prowl the room like one of the leopards the ancient Egyptians prized so highly, she frowned. How could he believe such an outlandish folk tale?

  She immediately chastised herself. Uncle Jeffrey had believed there was a curse. She’d even thought it that afternoon in the Museum when she’d almost been crushed by that large sandstone masonry. But logically, she knew there wasn’t a curse. Someone didn’t want her to find Nourbese’s tomb, and they were using superstition to their advantage. Altair came to an abrupt halt and bent down to capture her face in his hands.

  “I believe the prophecy because of what I’ve seen over the past two months. I’ve witnessed the ease with which you found first the city wall, and then the palace. Tell me, how long do you think it really should have taken you to find Per-Ramesses?”

  His hands slid down her arms. Grasping her hands, he pulled her to her feet. She shook her head at the question.

  “I don’t know. A couple more weeks?”

  “At least that many, if not more. And the palace. It should have taken a hell of a lot longer than it did for you to find this place.”

  The words smarted. He thought she’d found Per-Ramesses and the palace by sheer luck. Pulling herself free of his grasp, she glared up at him.

  “In other words, you think I just stumbled onto it by accident.”

  “No,” he growled. “I’m just saying that providence is at work here.”

  “Providence? Hardly.” She released an abrupt sound of disgust. “I worked at my father’s side from the time I was fifteen years old, studying everything I could about Ramesses and his city. I’m an expert on the subject, and you have the presumption to suggest providence was the reason I found Per-Ramesses!”

  “Damn it, Alex. I’m not saying that. I merely—”

  “I think you’ve said quite enough all ready.”

  She couldn’t believe it. He doubted her. He doubted her ability. He put her discovery of the palace down to sheer luck. Time and again she’d proven herself as capable as any man. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was her knowledge and not some prophecy that had helped her find Per-Ramesses.

  Disgusted, she turned to walk away from him, and he caught her by the shoulders giving her a slight shake.

  “Listen to me. I’m simply trying to explain why I think you’re the one the prophecy foretold.”

  “I don’t want to listen to you.” She glared at him.

  He must take her for a complete fool. She’d worked hard to get here. To have him attribute her knowledge and work to providence cut deep. It was the same thing as saying she wasn’t as capable as him or any other man. She glanced at the large hands resting on her shoulders before sending him a cold glance.

  “Let me go.”

  The quiet request filled the chamber with icy silence. Altair’s features became a stone mask hiding his thoughts from her. But his eyes blazed with anger and another emotion she couldn’t define. Slowly his hands released her and he took a step backward. He bowed slightly.

  “As you wish, but know this, Alex. This conversation is far from over.”

  She refused even to acknowledge his statement. Her movements deliberate, she picked up her knapsack and removed her notebook from it. As if she hadn’t a care in the world, she knelt at the stone slab and recorded the hieroglyphic message. Over her head, she heard his exclamation of anger before the sharp click of his boot heels against the stone floor echoed his departure.

  Shoulders sagging, she closed her eyes. The disappointment wrapping itself around her heart was a physical pain. For the first time he had questioned her abilities. Not directly, but he’d attributed her success to an ancient prophecy. She grimaced. Even if what he said was true, it was clear she still didn’t trust him.

  Oh, she’d thought she did, but would she have jumped to conclusions so easily just now if she had complete faith in him? How could they have a life together without trust? She would never agree to give up her work. It meant too much to her. She’d rather live a lonely life without Altair than come to resent him for forcing her to choose between him and her passion. It was an impossible situation.

  With a small sound of agitation, she snapped her notebook closed. Work, she needed to focus on her work. She’d once told Jane that she’d rather have a statue of Anubis or Ramesses over the affections of a man. She should have listened to her own advice. Then she’d still have a heart and some of her pride left.

  Rising to her feet, she blinked away the tears threatening to course down her cheeks. Enough of this. There was work to do. Across from the balustrade buried in the stone was the doorway leading into what Altair had called Ramesses’ shrine to Nourbese. From where she stood, she could see a soft glow of light coming from the doorway. Briskly she headed toward the room.

  The chamber was small and narrow, not much bigger than a closet. Light filled the room from four different sconces hanging on the wall. Slowly, she circled the room, noting the numerous hieroglyphs covering the stone walls. At one end of the alcove, the wall dipped inward into a small shrine.

  An empty ledge jutted out into the room from the indentation. Resting on the ledge and carved directly into the stone was a sculpture of a beautiful woman seated on a throne. She stared out at Alex, the lovely proportions of her face haunting in its beauty. At the foot of the sculpture rested a small creature that reminded Alex of a mongoose. One thing was clear—the woman didn’t resemble any Goddess worshipped by Ramesses. It could only be Nourbese.

  Excitement hitched her breath as she studied the carving. With a quick movement, she pulled out her brush and dusted debris from around the sculpture. Peering closely at the carving and the way it melded into the wall, she bit her lip in concentration. Fingers drifting over the stone surface behind the sculpture, she encountered two small indentations on the wall behind the carving. She frowned. Quickly she dusted away the debris off the small, finger-size holes.

  She stepped back and stared at the sculpture. Was this really Nourbese? It made sense that Ramesses would have a small shrine to honor his lost love, but this translation didn’t make much sense. Leaning closer to the hieroglyphs, she tilted her head to read the words as they rose toward the ceiling then turned to crest the statue’s small inset before resuming their course back down to the shrine’s ledge. She shook her head as she read the translation aloud.

  “Nourbese, Pharaoh’s beloved, awaits the woman from the west. Ramesses’s rib will give the woman with hawk feathers that which the Mazir seek.”

  The back of her neck tingled. Blast, Altair had her half believing this prophecy of his. She sent the statue a fierce glare. No, she wasn’t the woman in the prophecy. Still, it was difficult not to consider the prediction and the coincidental aspects of the hieroglyphs. She had brown hair, she was seeking Nourbese’s tomb and she needed Ramesses’s rib to do that.

  Blowing out a breath of air in disgust, she re-examined the stone surface behind the statue. The two finger holes were spaced far enough apart to allow someone to insert their index and middle fingers. Impulsively, she started to insert her fingers then stopped. No, that might not be a good idea.

  If it were some type of trap, escape might be impossible if her fingers were caught. Best to use her pencils instead. Pulling two from her knapsack, she carefully angled them into the holes. Nothing happened.

  Gently, she pushed on the pencils again. This time a loud click echoed through the room. Jumping away from the wall and statue, she watched as a stone beneath the figure of Nourbese slid back to reveal a medium-sized compartment. Excited, she retrieved one of the torches to shine the light into the dark hole.

  From where she stood, she could see a golden chest. She sucked in a sharp breath of exhilaration. Nourb
ese’s canopic jars. She’d found them. Excitement pulsed through her as she reached into the compartment. The sound of footsteps made her realize the chest would have to wait. Quickly she straightened and used the pencils to close the secret cache.

  As the stone slowly ground its way closed, Alex moved toward the doorway. Altair met her at the threshold. She narrowed her gaze at him, but his expression remained impassive beneath her stare.

  “Done so soon?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just thought I’d leave the chamber for tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, I want to finish mapping out the palace before I delve into the translation of all the markings in here.”

  When he didn’t move aside, she frowned and tried to slide past him. A steely arm shot across her path to grip the doorjamb and block her escape. “Alex, I upset you earlier. It wasn’t my intention to do that.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She recognized his attempt at an apology, but she wanted no part of it. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve work to do.”

  With a quick movement, she ducked beneath his arm and darted away. As she scurried down the hall toward the palace entrance, she waited to hear his footsteps following her. When all she heard was the sound of her own boots echoing in the corridor, she suppressed a sob.

  No, she wouldn’t cry. If he were to follow her and find her weeping, he’d only use it to his advantage. That she couldn’t allow. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing her heart was breaking. He couldn’t accept her for who she was, and she wasn’t about to change for him or anyone else.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Damn.”

  Alex hit her fist against the wall. She turned around and pressed her back against the cold stone bearing the frustrating group of hieroglyphs she’d been deciphering. Slowly she sank down onto the floor. There wasn’t a single hint of what or where Ramesses’s rib was in any of the symbols she’d translated over the past three days.