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There was a loud scuffle overhead, frantic conversation, but it seemed tocome from a million miles away; the noise might have been from the moon. I couldn’t take my gaze from the predator swimming toward me. I came to my senses and clumsily swam toward the dahabeeyah. A blur of movement came from somewhere next to me, a large body crashing into the river near me. Mr. Hayes came up, shook his head, his hair dark brown and wet, plastered across his face. He reached me in one breath and gripped my hand.
“Oh no, oh no,” I babbled.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said calmly. “Take a big breath.”
I’d barely done it before he dragged me below the water.
I couldn’t see in front of me, my vision obscured by the murky river. But I knew we went down, down, down, swimming to the bottom. Weeds and long stems of grass reached around us, threatening to ensnare us in the deep. Mr. Hayes’s rough palm engulfed mine, his large shape curled around me. An unshakeable tether against the current. Sand billowed out and around as my lungs began to burn. I made to swim up toward the light, but Mr. Hayes held me in place, shaking his head.
He cupped my face in his hands and gently pulled my head forward until our mouths met. Neither of us closed our eyes, and the contact rippled outward, an electrical current I felt in every corner of my body. Bubbles of air passed through his lips and into mine. The pressure in my chest decreased and I turned away, not wanting to take more from him. We waited for three more beats, our fingers interlocked, and then Mr. Hayes kicked off the sandy ground and we shot straight upward, his legs brushing against my own as he propelled us to the light.
We broke through the surface, and I wiped the water from my eyes in time to see Mr. Fincastle take aim and then shoot down into the water from up on the dahabeeyah. Furious bullets rained down ahead of us. His daughter, Isadora, joined him, standing at his side, the dainty wildflower. The wind pulled at her hair as she slowly pulled out a sleek handgun. It looked slim and delicate in her gloved hand.
With utter calm and poise, she pulled the trigger.
My respect for her soared as, together with her father, she shot at the predator.
“Clear?” Mr. Hayes yelled.
“I believe so,” Mr. Fincastle yelled back. TheElephantinecrew surrounded him and his daughter on either side. At his words, they loudly cheered, including Isadora. I could see her smug satisfaction from where I bobbed in the Nile.
“Yes, by all means celebrate what was an entirely preventable situation,” Mr. Hayes muttered under his breath. He turned to me, the lines around his eyes tightening with strain. He pulled me into the circle of his arms. His words came out in a half shout. “Are you all right?”
I let out a shaky laugh, trying not to stare at the water droplet high on his cheek. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Oh yes, it was a jolly good time,” Mr. Hayes said, sounding so much like a British aristocrat that I blinked. His light blue shirt matched his eyes and outlined his muscular shoulders. He kicked back, creating distance between us, and gestured toward the boat. “After you, Olivera.”
I swam with him at my side, the wind tearing overhead, rocking theElephantinedangerously. The rope was still hanging off the side. Another was thrown for Mr. Hayes and he wrapped it around his fist once. To me he said, “Tie the other around your waist. They’ll pull you up.”
After an uncomfortable interval where I was roughly tugged up and over into the boat, I was able to fully breathe for the first time since falling overboard. I recognized the exact moment everyone discovered my gender. The crew surrounded me, gaping at me, the clear curves of my body in full display under the white tunic I wore. I crossed my arms over my chest.
Mr. Fincastle stood before me in his khaki trousers and tall boots, the gun propped over his shoulder. “We have a stowaway it seems. And who might you be?”
The breeze brushed against my wet clothes and my teeth chattered. “I-Inez Emilia O-Olivera. Pl-pleasure to meet you. Thank you for saving us.”
Mr. Hayes threw me a disgruntled look. I suppose I ought to have thanked him, too.
With one fluid motion, Mr. Fincastle moved his gun and aimed it at my face. “And why were you on our boat? Here to spy on the excavation?”
I stared down the barrel of the rifle, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. Isadora let out a gasp, and my attention flickered to her.
“What thehellare you doing?” Mr. Hayes said, stepping in front of me. “This is Ricardo’s niece, you bloody idiot. Put the gun down.”
But he didn’t. Mr. Fincastle observed me coldly, as if I were a viable threat to everyone on board. His daughter regarded me with a discreet, sympathetic glance. Her father took a step closer. If he pulled the trigger, I wouldn’t survive the consequences. I wanted to rail against him, but I instinctively understood that if I moved a muscle, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me.
“Put the fucking gun down,” Mr. Hayes said quietly. He didn’t disguise the menace in his voice.
“Are you vouching for her?”
“I am.”
Isadora raised her brows and looked between us with an interested air.
Mr. Fincastle tucked the weapon under his arm and held his hands up. “We can’t be too careful.” And then he strode away, as if he hadn’t just threatened my life, moments after saving it.
Isadora stripped off her muslin jacket and handed it to me. “For your modesty.”
I blushed, and hastily put it on. “Gracias. I mean, thank you.”
