Her Kind of Trouble (20 page)

"Please," I said. "Tell me exactly what's going on. When does Hani mean to have her marry?"

Jane's tears thickened her words. "Tomorrow night!"

I stared, going cold.

"That's when he means to have her betrothed," corrected Tala. "Of course a marriage will take longer to arrange."

Jane whirled on her. "They're practically the same!"

I stared at Tala, wishing they'd get their stories straight.

"I'm afraid that's true," admitted the older woman. "Betrothing Kara to a local boy—"

"Boy? He's in college!"

"—is the first step toward taking custody from me. Likely Hani will grant it to the boy's mother, who can then refuse Jane visitation."

"And he may actually marry her," insisted Jane. "At twelve. It's been known to happen. It's legalized rape is what it is!"

At least I could understand the extent of her panic. If I were in her situation, I'd probably be panicking, too, no matter how useless that was. Luckily, I
wasn't
in her situation. And I had a clear enough head to notice something.

A shadow, beyond the archway to the foyer.

"I apologize for involving you," said Tala, her humility surprising me. "If you were not the champion—"

Oh for the love of—

"I'm
not
the champion," I insisted, standing. "How often do I have to tell you that?"

"But you must be," whispered Jane. "We
need
you to be."

It was for her sake that I put my finger to my lips before I said, with deliberate clarity, "Well that's too bad."

Even then, she looked crushed.

"I feel sorry for your family," I continued, widening my eyes in hopes they would catch on. "I do, but I've had enough of
Egypt
. I've had enough of my friends getting hurt. I've had enough of threats and manipulation. And most of all—"

Which is when I dodged around the corner—and caught the eavesdropping maid by one arm.

"I've had enough of secrecy," I said.

The girl—I'd be surprised if she was twenty years old—screeched and tried to pull free, but her struggle was surprisingly ineffective. She would not look at me as she babbled in frightened Arabic.

"She asks," translated Tala coldly, as she and Jane gathered around, "that you not put the evil eye on her."

"Speak English," I ordered. Normally I hate playing the ugly American, but if I didn't want this whole situation to get away from me…

"Please," sobbed the maid obediently, still cowering. "Please, witch. Do not… please… "

What
? My first instinct was to assure her either that I wasn't a witch or that, if I was, I was a nice one. Then practicality shouldered kindness out of the way. I said, "I
will
curse you, you little spy—
unless
you answer my questions."

"Please!" She fell to her knees, but still she wasn't struggling. This was not the effect my touch had been having, lately. I realized that she must be afraid to strike out or scratch at me, aka the witch.

I wasn't sure whether to find it funny, annoying…or, worse, empowering as hell.

"You will answer honestly? I'll know if you don't!" She nodded, tears streaming down her face.

Oh… goddess. I looked to Tala for help. She took the girl by the shoulders and steered her to a chair. My first question was, "Who are you spying for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" demanded Jane. "It's that son-of-a—"

"We have to hear it from her," I interrupted, then tried my best to glare at the maid as I lied, "so I'll know with my magic if she's telling the truth."

The maid, whose name turned out to be Layla, nodded frantically—and spilled. As it turned out, she'd been spying for Hani Rachid for months. That's how Hani knew that Jane had met Rhys. That's how Hani knew about my arrival, and when I would be there for dinner, and that Tala wanted me to help Kara and Jane.

"Please do not curse me," Layla begged. "This is all I know. I swear it is all I know. I…1 see now that he was using me." Maybe, with the help of my goddess touch, she really did. "I will tell him no more, not even if he beats me—"

"No," I interrupted, thinking fast. If I simply told her to pass on a message, she—or at least Hani—would be suspicious. But if I phrased it right… "Do you think I care what he knows? I am leaving
Egypt
tomorrow. After that, his affairs will mean nothing to me."

Everyone stared at me. Even Kara, who seemed to have surreptitiously turned down her Discman when the excitement started. Jane said, "You can't!"

"If I'm a witch," I reminded her, "then I can do anything I want, right? But only when
I
decide. Why should I trouble myself with these…these petty affairs?"

I held Tala's gaze for an extra long moment and, thankfully, she seemed to figure it out. About damned time. If I had to get more melodramatic than that, I wasn't sure I could respect myself.

"Take her away," she commanded Jane, of the servant. "Of course I am terminating her employment as of this instant. See that she actually does leave, while I try to convince our
champion
to take our cause."

"You won't," I warned her loudly. It was all I could do not to fling my hair back and glare down my nose. But it gave the right impression until Jane got Layla out of the way.

Then Tala said, more softly, "You
will
help us, won't you?"

"Yes, but not because I'm any sort of champion or witch. I'll help you because I'm a decent human being who thinks the law is wrong in this case. But it's going to be a long shot."

"It's worth a try," she said. "At worst, if you and Jane are arrested at the border crossing, there will be publicity—"

"We aren't crossing any borders." I hadn't realized I had a plan until those words left my mouth. When they did, and my subconscious let me in on things, I thought—Not half bad.

For a crapshoot.

"We're going by boat, then?" asked Jane, returning. "I tried that already. He was watching for me."

"No." My firmness surprised even me. "We're going inland. And you're not coming with us."

The next morning, as planned, I packed the largest rolling suitcase I could find—bought off another of Rhys's archeologist friends. I checked out of the Hotel Athens, to Catrina's apparent delight, and headed out for the train station.

With one stop, of course.

Rhys insisted on driving me. He rested in the car while I dragged my suitcase through the walled courtyard at the entrance and into the villa to say goodbye to the Rachid family.

"I have given Jane the rhyme," Tala whispered, holding my hands in hers—that seemed to be her poised version of a hug. We stood in the foyer, just inside her entryway. More important, my suitcase was hidden from view inside, as well. "As soon as she knows that Kara is safe… "

I wished I had her conviction, but I knew better than she that I was neither a witch nor a champion. I was just Maggi… and, okay, a Grailkeeper. That might help.

Instead of jinxing us through overconfidence—or fatalism—I just said, "I hope you know that I'm not doing this for the secret to the Isis Grail."

Her dark eyes softened. "I know this," she said. "It is what I sensed upon our first meeting. And it is why the Oldest of the Old will surely smile upon you."

After we'd waited a suitable amount of time, I grasped the handle of my suitcase and rolled it back across the courtyard, toward the car. The car was the same battered blue Chevy Metro, joint owned by several project members, in which Rhys had originally picked me up.

The suitcase rattled across exotic tiling, under the striped morning shadows of the pergola's trelliswork. The car was fifteen feet away. Then ten. The air smelled of jasmine. Then the car was only five feet away, just beyond two palm trees and the open iron gate…

Then, just as I was beginning to wonder if so crazy a plan could actually work, two swarthy men in blue jeans and polyester shirts stepped out from behind the palm trees to intercept me.

I stopped, immediately tried to back up, but one of them reached out and caught the handle of my suitcase.

"No!" I protested, but the other caught me, hard, with an arm around my waist. He lifted me off my toes, so that I hung from his grip like one of Kara's dolls.

He hadn't showered in a day or so, either.

I struggled, once, but when he tightened his hold painfully, I stopped. I needed my breath too badly.

"Maggi!" called Rhys, from the car. He began to get out, still moving slowly since yesterday's ordeal, but I shook my head at him. No point in endangering both of us.

The first man, glaring at me, unzipped the overlarge suitcase and triumphantly threw it open to reveal—

My clothes.

"Stop it," I protested, again. When he dug out a handful of my underwear, peering deeper into the case, I added, "You pervert!"

Now Rhys limped closer, leaving the driver's door open. "Leave her alone!"

And Tala, from the front door of her villa, called something in Arabic, then translated, "You will stop harassing my guests at once. I have rung the police!"

Confused and embarrassed—and unsure what to do without their leader—Hani's thugs had to let me go.

"This is why I'm leaving your damned country," I scolded as I threw my clothes back into the suitcase and zipped it shut. "I haven't been here a week and already I've been kidnapped and attacked and almost run over by a speedboat—"

I still hoped the incidents
weren't
related to me. But it made a good rant.

Tala continued to scold the men in Arabic. I, on the other hand, loaded my suitcase foil of now messy clothing into the back seat of the Metro and climbed into the passenger seat.

Rhys said nothing as he pulled away. Neither did I.

Not until we were well away, and I could risk peeking over the back of my seat. "Are you okay back there, kiddo?"

"You guessed right," announced Kara proudly, sitting up from under a light blanket. "They were so busy with you, they didn't even notice me sneak into the car."

"You're a suspiciously good sneaker." I pretended to be
particularly
stern as I said that, but Kara just laughed. If she'd had any reservations about this plan, I doubt I could bear forcing her into it. It was going to be far more difficult for her than for me. "So you know what to do, right?"

"Hide the clothes under the blanket and get into the suitcase," she recited. "Sit on the wheel side. Then you'll zip it most of the way up before we get on the train."

"Did you use the bathroom? Er…the loo?"

She nodded. "I'm not a baby!"

But good heavens, she didn't look far from it, even at twelve. Her face shone with the excitement of this adventure. Her dark hair was neatly braided. She had a cartoon kitty on her T-shirt.

"Yeah, but it's a very long train ride. Don't drink too much of your water—"

"And don't play my Discman too loudly, I
know
!"

So instead of continuing to lecture her, which could garner suspicion from anyone who saw us drive by, I settled back into my seat. See what I mean? A crap-shoot.

"I did not see the father," I said to Rhys—in French. No reason to worry the girl further.

"Nor did I," he answered in the same language. "You must let me come with you, Maggi."

"You're still recovering. And it will look less like something big's going down if you stay here. Besides, it's relatively safe for me. This isn't kidnapping," I assured him.

The Roman coliseum across from the train station came into view, and I added, "At least, not until we reach the embassy."

Chapter 13