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Whit shifted his feet, half turning toward me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. Abdullah ruffled Kareem’s hair, chuckling.
“No more honey for you,” Abdullah said fondly. “Go and assist the crew.”
Kareem took off, his sandals slapping against the stone.
Tío Ricardo shook his head, muttering to himself. Then he focused his attention back to more pressing matters. I listened as Abdullah and Tío Ricardo pointed out various depictions on the walls. On the north wall, Cleopatra with the goddess Nuit. Depicted on the west wall, the twelvehours of Amduat, and on the east, the first spell from the Book of the Dead. Finally, the south wall displayed Cleopatra with various ancient Egyptian deities: Anubis, the god of the dead, his jackal head turned sideways; Isis; and Hathor.
And last, wrapped around her sarcophagus, was a Hellenistic carving of the Battle of Actium, the day the Queen of Kings lost everything. Cleopatra stood on the prow of a hexareme warship while her soldiers rowed her toward her last stand against Octavian. After his victory, he christened himself Augustus.
Everything inside the chamber was touched by gold. My mother would want to lay her hands on everything and steal what she could. Time was moving too fast, the distance between us growing steadily. I wanted to run out of the room and race after her.
“Inez, you have your work cut out for you,” Tío Ricardo said, watching me shrewdly, guessing my thoughts. “Best to start immediately.”
By the end of the day, I could hardly flex the fingers on my right hand. They were too cramped and sore, but I was reasonably proud of my progress in capturing the burial chamber. I stumbled into my room, dusty, dirty, and bleary-eyed, too tired even to eat. I set my lit candle on the stack of books next to my bedroll and immediately went to the washbasin. I cleaned my face, neck, and hands, and dropped onto the blankets, vowing not to move for hours.
It lasted for only a moment.
Worry knotted tightly, deep in my belly. I paced the room, flapping my hands in agitation. I couldn’t believe my uncle wanted to leave me behind when it was my fault. The desperation to make things right between us nearly suffocated me. I needed to do something, anything, to distract myself. I thought about going to Whit, but I forced myself to remain in my room.
I couldn’t go to him anymore.
I cast my eye around the chamber and my gaze landed on Tía Lorena’s letter, stacked on top of the crate. I really ought not to be such a coward about it. What could she possibly have written that could rival what I’d felt today?
With a groan, I pulled out the note. I expected to find several sheets,but there were only two pages, folded haphazardly. Frowning, I sat up, squinting in the dim lighting, and read the first missive.
Dear Inez,
I hardly know where to begin. You haven’t replied to my last, which makes me think it must have gotten lost in transit. There’s no easy way to write this.
Elvira has gone missing.
I am at my wit’s end. There’s been no word, and the authorities have been no help. Come home. I beg you.
Come home.
Lorena
The next few seconds were a blur, the words swimming in front of me nonsensical and wrong. How could Elvira have gone missing? My aunt was mistaken, she—I blinked back tears, remembering the first letter she’d written, shortly after I had arrived in Egypt. I launched myself into a search of my room, throwing around books, rummaging through my canvas bag, cursing all the while. The letter remained stubbornly hidden from me. How could I have been so careless?
Then I remembered the second sheet tucked inside the envelope. With shaking hands, I pulled it from within and read to the last line.
Inez,
My sister would never have been so reckless, if it wasn’t for your influence. I warned you that sneaking out into Buenos Aires would only bring trouble. Now, she hasn’t come home and it’s your fault for showing her the way. We fear she’s been kidnapped—or worse.
If anything happens to Elvira, I will never forgive you.
And you can count on me making you miserable for the rest of your life.
Amaranta
“Damn it,” I cried.
“Good gad!” Whit exclaimed from behind me. “What the bloody hell is the matter now?”
I whirled around, frantic. He yanked the curtain aside, his features pulled tight into a frown. “Whit! I must find my uncle.”
He stepped into my room. “What’s happened? You’ve gone white.”
