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Time ticked by and slowly made a liar of me.
Wake up, I begged Tauseret silently. Save yourself. I knew she needed me to become alive, else why would she have waited for me? If I had to run after Apollo, I might not be able to come back for her. How could I leave her behind, trapped in a living death?
At any moment Billy Sweet would be back to see why the exhibits hadn’t been loaded, and Tauseret’s chance of freedom would be gone. I wiped the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand, and the scarab ring scraped my face. The ring. It was not until I had placed my ring-clad hand on the mummy that Tauseret had opened her eyes the previous night. I hardly dared breathe as I lowered my hand to her face. My fingers brushed her parched brown lips. Did I imagine they twitched?
Apollo didn’t even pay attention. He stared at the exit flap, his bushy brow knit, as if he longed to be gone. “Hsst,” I said, and he glared at me. “Look,” I stroked Tauseret’s cheek.
The change happened faster than the night before. Lips plumped, cheeks filled in, flesh gained a bloom, and her chest rose and fell with breath. Apollo gasped and bent over her. Silence held sway like the silver moment before the first birdcall of dawn, and in that moment Tauseret’s lashes flickered. She opened her eyes a sultry slit, then they shot wide.
“Anubis?” Her thin voice trembled with panic.
Apollo growled and jumped back.
“He’s my friend Apollo,” I said.
Her eyes slid from side to side as she looked around as much as she could, then she chuckled, a sound like pebbles shaken in an earthen jar. “I thought I was finally in the underworld and jackal-headed Anubis had come to lead me to judgment.”
I motioned to Apollo, and he edged forward. “I’m a dog boy, not a jackal,” he said, a touch sharply.
Tauseret’s lips curved. “I can see my mistake, dear heart,?
? she said in that cracked, whispery voice. “You are much more handsome than a jackal.”
How astute. Barely awake and she knew how to manage the petulant boy.
“Are you hurt?” Apollo asked, pointing at her bandages.
“I mend with each moment,” she replied.
“We can’t stay long,” I said. “Mink’s man will be back soon, and you’ll need to pretend you are lifeless again. We don’t want them to find out you are a better exhibit than they know. They’ll guard you too closely.”
“You will take me from these thieves, will you not?” she asked.
“Yes, soon. Won’t we, Apollo?”
“Yes,” the boy said without hesitation, and I could have cheered.
Footsteps approached.
“The show moves on tonight,” I told her. “Have patience while I figure out how to get us all away from Mink. It may take a day or two.”
“Why you lollygagging, Dandy?” asked Billy Sweet as he came in. “Finish packing those pickled punks.” He carelessly lowered the lid on the sarcophagus, and I saw what he did not— helpless fear flash through the eyes of a girl who’d been buried alive.
23
WE PULLED OUT AFTER THE LATE SHOW and rumbled down a dirt road by what little remained of moonlight. Mink still fancied Apollo as a pet, and Apollo was too frightened to refuse to ride with him. We traveled into the early hours of the first of August, then slept until daylight between the wagon wheels on scratchy blankets. That day we set up camp outside another town. How fast one becomes jaded; I wasn’t at all interested in this new place.
Mr. Bopp stayed locked away, and Miss Lightfoot sent Moses with his breakfast. “He’s still madder than a bobcat,” said the frog boy. “Why, he’s been chewin’ wood, he’s that mad. He spit splinters at me.”
As we raised the main tent around the fat man, I noticed that the work felt lighter. My hands were coarsened with calluses and rope bums, and the muscles of my arms had thickened with use. My sweat smelled pungent, a man’s sweat, and when I removed my shirt, I took sinful delight in my robust chest. I would have been proud that my whiskers grew in tougher every day, but when one was a friend of the dog boy, one couldn’t boast on that account.
Billy Sweet and Bonfiglio left the final pounding of the tent pegs to me and departed for other tasks.
“You look pleased with yourself, Dandy,” Ceecee uttered. My swing went wild and I dropped my mallet. I straightened carefully to face my enemy. Despite the heat I shivered.
He wore smeared makeup and a sneer above his male attire. His razor was in his hand, and he waved it as if conducting music only he could hear. “You think you can join this show and take over, don’t you? You think you’re better than the rest of us.”
There was no way to protest this accusation.
