Page 42 of What the River Knows

Dear Monsieur Maspero,

It was wonderful dining with you. Please allow me to beg your pardon for my brother’s astonishing behavior. I hope you know that my husband and I respect your efforts and work at the museum, despite what Ricardo might imply. I greatly fear that he’s become involved with disreputable individuals associated with illegal activities here in Cairo. Please see the enclosed card.

This is indeed what I fear, correct?

Would it be possible if I might visit you at your office? I must speak with you further about this matter. I’m in desperate need of guidance and assistance.

Yours etc.,

Lourdes Olivera

My attention narrowed to one line. One line that made me feel like I’d been struck down by a fist. The words swam across my vision, each letter a knife to my gut.

… involved with disreputable individuals associated with illegal activities…

My God, what was my uncle involved in? Who were these disreputable individuals? I slumped to the ground, tears pricking my eyes. I read the letter again and the words blurred together as I pulled out a small square-shaped card, soft to the touch and thick. On one side, an illustration of a gate was debossed on the expensive paper. And on the other, three lines of text printed in black ink.

GEZIRASPORTINGCLUB

24TH OFJULY

3 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING

Mamá had found this card months ago. I’d not heard of the sporting club, but scheduling an event? a meeting? in the early hours of the morning felt suspicious. I flipped the card again, studying the design intently. My sketchbook was within reach, and I quickly copied the sketch of the gate.

It appeared to be a simple sketch of the entrance of an Egyptian temple. I didn’t recognize it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. My breath rushed out of me again as the implication of what I’d read rattled my bones.

Had Mamá thought Tío Ricardo a criminal?

CAPÍTULO ONCE

To hell with leaving Egypt.

Not until I knew what had happened to Mamá and Papá. My uncle wanted to pack me off, for me to go meekly back to Argentina, to leave my questions unanswered, while he involved himself in criminal activities? Anger blew through my body as if riding a harsh wind. He thought he could make me disappear?

I wouldn’t go quietly.

No, I needed to find a way to board theElephantine.Preferably before he dumped me onto a train heading for Alexandria. I thought hard, discarding one idea after another, Mr. Hayes’s words swimming in my mind. He’d told me they were heading to the dahabeeyah tonight, leaving the docks at… I scrunched my brow. What was the name of the dock?

Bulaq.

That had been it.

I flew into action, my mind racing with thoughts of anything I might possibly need for the journey. Bringing my luggage would most likely slow me down, but I could stuff some clothing and supplies into my bag. I layered my current dress over a spare one, along with a pair of Turkish trousers underneath both skirts. It was hardly comfortable, but I would need a change of clothes eventually.

That done, I cast my eye to my next task.

Colette had certainly worked efficiently. My bed had been made, my trunks stacked neatly on top of one another. I had precious minutes to undo everything she had done. Moving quickly, I threw open the lids andpulled out a medium-sized canvas bag. I’d originally packed it thinking it might be useful for living on-site while my uncle excavated. If anyone were to see me carrying it around along with my purse, I had the perfect excuse lined up. It would serve as my overnight bag in Alexandria.

I rushed to the desk and grabbed a blank sheet, quickly making a list of everything I would need. Papá and I had both been fond of them.

I had much to pack, and I hoped that I could fit everything I needed. When I had looked over my parents’ belongings, I had seen several usefulitems, no doubt meant for living in tents out in the desert. The things I needed were scattered around their bedroom and I rushed to collect all of the items, stuffing everything inside my purse when my fingers brushed against a rough surface.

The echo of magic pulsed, widening in a large, invisible ripple.

My purchase from the bazaar.

I dug farther and pulled out the trinket box, careful not to touch the wood. It swayed in front of me, the whisper of something pulling me forward. I blinked, thought hard, and then looked again in my bag to pull out Papá’s switchblade. With extreme care, I cut along the seam, and the encrusted dirt fell away.

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