Misplaced (18 page)

V
ictoria
w
alked
to
the
bottom
of
the
s
w
eeping
staircase
and
motioned to Khara. “What
w
e
’
re looking for is up here.”

Th
e
gleamin
g
parque
t
floo
r
a
t
th
e
to
p
o
f
th
e
stair
s
le
d
t
o
a
pai
r
o
f
t
w
el
v
e-foo
t
pillar
s
o
n
whic
h
a
n
immens
e
limeston
e
slab
w
as
balanced
solidly.
This
replicated
door
w
ay
marked
the
“Enduring
Egypt”
section
of
the
museum.
An
ancient
melody
o
f
strings
,
flutes
,
an
d
cymbal
s
pla
y
ed
,
invitin
g
the
m
t
o
ste
p
into
the past.

“
W
e
nee
d
mor
e
light.
”
V
ictori
a
flippe
d
th
e
switc
h
that
would turn spotlights on se
v
eral featured pieces.

When
she
returned,
Khara
had
rested
her
head
against
one
o
f
th
e
column
s
a
s
thoug
h
i
t
w
er
e
th
e
shoulde
r
o
f
a
long-los
t
friend.
The
entire
floor
smelled
of
aged
paper
and
eons
of
dust.
“
A
t
last,
”
sh
e
whispered
,
he
r
e
y
e
s
moist
,
“something
familiar.”

V
ictoria fought her softening heart. “Let’s start o
v
er there.”

Khara’
s
mo
v
emen
t
throug
h
th
e
roo
m
w
a
s
slo
w
unti
l
se
v
eral
sheets of papyrus, encased in glass, caught her attention.
“These
are
not
the
works
of
artists,”
she
declared.
“This
one
is
nothing
more
than
an
in
v
entory
of
foodstuffs
for
a
banquet.”

“How do you know?”
Khar
a
rolle
d
he
r
e
y
es
.
“
I
ca
n
read
.
No
t
s
o
w
el
l
i
n
your
language, but most certainly in my own.”

“So this is how it’s going to go?”

“
And
this
is
nothing
more
than
a
lo
v
e
letter
from
a
wife
to
he
r
army-lieutenan
t
husband,
”
sh
e
sai
d
wit
h
authority
.
“She
writes
that
each
day
he’s
a
w
ay,
the
sun
fades
a
little
in
the
sky.
Beautiful
,
y
es
,
bu
t
nothin
g
compare
d
t
o
th
e
portrait
s
below.
P
erhap
s
o
v
e
r
here…
”
She
’
d
reache
d
a
statu
e
o
f
a
man
,
sitting
wit
h
a
table
t
i
n
hi
s
lap
,
a
diligen
t
expressio
n
o
n
hi
s
face
.
“
A
scribe,” she dismissed it.

“Bu
t
Khara
,
you
’
r
e
missin
g
th
e
mos
t
importan
t
part
.
T
ake
a
loo
k
a
t
whe
n
h
e
li
v
ed—almos
t
thre
e
thousan
d
y
ear
s
ago.
”
V
ictori
a
shoo
k
he
r
hea
d
i
n
frustration
.
“
I
suppos
e
yo
u
also
kno
w
wha
t
thi
s
on
e
s
ay
s?
”
On
e
o
f
th
e
m
ounte
d
papyr
i
had
no
tag
or
details
of
its
pro
v
enance.
Let
her
explain
this
one
,
she
thought.

“It’s a list.”
“I can see that.”

“There are fifteen
words on the list, are there not?”

“So?”

“T
o
a
n
Egyptian
,
san
d
i
s
elemental
;
n
o
singl
e
wor
d
ca
n
encompas
s
it
s
man
y
qualities
.
Thes
e
ar
e
som
e
o
f
th
e
most
widely used
v
ersions.”

“Oh.
”
Thi
s
w
a
s
goin
g
t
o
b
e
mor
e
difficul
t
tha
n
she
’
d
thought
.
V
ictori
a
w
atche
d
Khar
a
bus
y
hersel
f
amon
g
the
statuary
,
oohin
g
an
d
aahin
g
no
w
an
d
then—no
t
exactl
y
the
reaction
she
’
d
hoped
for.
She
w
as
examining
the
cartouche
on
an
elegantly
car
v
ed
alabaster
v
ase
when
something
caught
her
e
y
e and she froze.

“I
n
tha
t
bo
x
o
v
e
r
there,
”
Khar
a
gasped
,
trembling
.
“What
i
s
it?
”
Sh
e
turne
d
a
w
a
y
fro
m
th
e
acr
y
li
c
case
,
ashen-faced
,
as
though she
’
d seen the specter of her own death.

“That? It’s a reproduction of the Sphinx.”

“Wh
y
ha
s
th
e
Grea
t
On
e
bee
n
defaced?
”
Sh
e
asked
,
e
y
es
wide
,
voic
e
qui
v
ering
.
Sh
e
trie
d
t
o
scrambl
e
a
w
a
y
fro
m
the
case,
but
slipped
on
the
polished
wood
floor.
The
ground
had
seemingly turned to ice.