Sands of Time (Out of Time #6) (30 page)

Diana looked from him to the other man. “Apparently not.” She eyed the other man, a big barrel-chested guy who looked like he wrestled Krakens in his spare time. “What’s going on here, Alexi?”

“Your man contacted me—”

“My man?” Diana repeated with an arched eyebrow and then turned a withering look on Nico. “Hardly.”

“So you do not work together?” Alexi said, his already humorless face looking even more grim.

“No,” Diana said firmly.

Alexi narrowed his eyes at Nico. “You lied to me.”

Nico shook his head. “No, no, no. That is putting too fine a point on it.”

Alexi’s bodyguards both moved to take a step forward, and Jack tensed, but Alexi held up a meaty hand and they remained where they were. He turned to Diana for confirmation.

“I work alone,” she said.

The big man’s eyes slid over to Jack. “And he is?”

“For catching spiders,” she said looking pointedly at Nico.

Nico held up his hands in front of him and raised his skinny shoulders. “It was just a little joke.”

“No one is laughing,” the big man said and jerked his head foreword. The two bodyguards moved forward as one and grabbed Nico by the arms. “You like to play games, do you?”

“Alexi—” Diana said, but the man ignored her and with a slight movement of his head gave the command to his men.

They dragged Nico over to the edge.

For the first time, Jack saw Diana tense. He’d thought this was just a ploy, but if Diana was on edge, this was no game.

“Please?” Nico begged.

The men lifted him up and set him down on the wall’s edge like a doll on a shelf in a little girl’s room.

“I have what you want,” Alexi said to Diana, ignoring Nico’s pleas.

Diana eyed Nico’s precarious position, but responded as casually as Alexi. “It’s about time.”

Alexi laughed deeply. “I will contact you tomorrow to arrange a meeting.” He glanced over at Nico. “Alone.”

Diana nodded. “Alone. Thank you.”

Alexi inclined his head and then snapped his fingers. His henchmen let go of Nico, leaving him perched precariously on the edge of the stone tower.

“Isn’t somebody going to—” Nico said and turned to beg for help, but as he did, one of the loose stones beneath him gave way and he slipped over the edge.

Jack was closest and instinctively lunged forward. Nico turned in mid-air and just managed to grab onto the wall. His fingers gripped the rough stone, but another gave way and he would have fallen to his death if Jack hadn’t been able to grab his wrist.

Party goers at the bottom of the pylon screamed as the stones fell and Nico cried out. Jack was bent over the low wall, half his body hanging down as he held on.

Nico might be a coward and a thief, but even he didn’t deserve to splat on the pavement like yesterday’s lunch. Nico struggled and squirmed, nearly loosing Jack’s grip.

“Stop wiggling, you idiot!” Jack yelled as he looked down at the man. As he did, the ground, over sixty feet away, started to swirl and telescope away. Jack’s stomach roiled and he felt the world start to tilt.

Blood rushed in his ears drowning out Nico’s pleas and prayers.

“It’s all right,” Diana whispered in his ear. “I’m right here.”

He felt her arm go around his waist. “Just close your eyes and pull him up.”

The sound of her voice grounded him. He looked down at Nico, whose eyes were wide with terror, the gathering crowd beneath him. Jack took a deep breath and lifted. Once he’d gotten control of himself, pulling Nico up was easy. After all, the man weighed less than a postage stamp.

Once he was high enough, Diana grabbed Nico’s other flailing arm and together they pulled him back to the safety of the roof to the cheers of the crowd below.

Nico knelt and began reciting some sort of prayer in Italian.

Jack, still trying to catch his breath, stepped away from the edge.

“Are you all right?” Diana asked.

Jack took a deep breath and nodded, as the vertigo finally subsided.

Nico’s offended voice pierced the quiet. “Him? What about me? Who is the one who almost died here? I think I was the one hanging over the edge like dried sausage.”

Diana smiled, stepped forward and slipped her arms around Jack’s waist. She gazed into his eyes, but it was Nico she spoke to. “You have five seconds to leave here or we’re going to put you back where we found you.”

There was a pause. “Fair enough.”

Jack heard Nico’s hurried footsteps disappear down the stairs.

Diana smiled and pressed herself into Jack. His arms tightened around her. Forget oysters and Spanish fly, there was no better aphrodisiac than nearly dying.

“Nice catch,” she said.

“He was kind of small, I probably should have thrown him back.”

Diana laughed. “Probably.” She leaned forward and kissed his neck.

“You going to tell me what that was all about?” he asked.

She kissed his jaw. “Probably.”

Jack felt his blood rush again, but for much more pleasant reasons. “Is this night going to end well?”

Diana pulled back and grinned. “Definitely.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Simon had managed to enjoy himself, for brief moments at least, as he danced with Elizabeth. They’d spent some of the evening chatting with Whiteside who waxed eloquently and endlessly about the difference between Demotic and Meroitic scripts and avoiding the Everetts, who Simon had last seen trying to put a bra on a statue of Seti II.

Elizabeth had convinced him of one more dance and he’d happily obliged as Whiteside launched into a treatise on cuneiform.

As he held her in his arms and listened to the music, he could almost forget the danger they were in. Almost.

“So romantic,” Elizabeth said.

Simon was about to agree when he noticed that she hadn’t been looking at him when she said it. He followed her eye-line and rolled his eyes. Ahmed had Christina by the hand and was leading her off to what Simon assumed was a dark corner somewhere.

He doubted Whiteside would agree. The man had lost his audience and was clearly standing on the sidelines looking for his daughter.

“Let’s just stay out of it,” Simon said, as he turned her away in time to the music.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in feigned innocence. “Just observing.”

“You are the most hands-on observer I’ve ever known.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded toward a secluded corner. “I think my work is done.”

Ahmed leaned down and kissed the girl and Simon heard Elizabeth sigh.

He shook his head. “Promise me it is.”

She gave the couple one last lingering look—always the romantic—and then nodded.

“Good,” Simon said. “We have more important things to worry about.”

Elizabeth fiddled with his collar as they danced. “Like how to steal the watch with Jouvet, the Whitesides and She Who Shall Not Be Named looking on?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “And stay alive while doing it.”

There was a bright-eyed confidence in Elizabeth’s smile. “We’ll find a way.”

He should have been used to it by now, but he found himself once again amazed by her strength. It wasn’t hubris or conceit behind her words. It was faith, simple faith in him, in them.

He’d always shared it, but Katherine Vale’s presence had cast a shadow of doubt that left him with a constant sense of unease and worry. They’d injured Vale and a wounded animal was the most dangerous kind.

“Perhaps we should call it a night?” he suggested.

For once, Elizabeth didn’t argue and Simon was grateful for that. They said their goodnights to Whiteside and started back toward the main entrance. Most of the guests were either dancing or drinking now and the temples themselves were nearly empty. As they entered the Hypostyle Hall, their footsteps echoed in the silence.

Simon felt the presence before he heard the other set of footfalls. He glanced down at Elizabeth. She’d heard them too. His heart beating faster, he hurried them through the dark colonnade, but the footsteps grew louder and closer.

They were too vulnerable out in the open and he pulled Elizabeth aside suddenly, and forced them into another row of columns and stopped. They pressed themselves up against the cool stone and listened.

He heard two more footsteps and then only the sound of his heart beating in his chest. Glancing down at Elizabeth, he nodded down the aisle and they slowly made their way from column to column, shadow to shadow.

They zigzagged their way toward the door and were only twenty feet away now. They edged around the girth of another column and had just started for the doorway when a man stepped out in front of them.

Elizabeth gasped in shock and Simon cocked his arm back. He was just about to strike when the figure took a small step to the side, out of the shadows and into a shaft of moonlight.

Hands raised in front of him, a broad grin on his face, was Hassan.

Relief coursed through him. “Good God, man,” Simon said, letting out a deep breath and lowering his arm. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I am sorry,” Hassan said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

Elizabeth’s laugh betrayed her nerves. “I didn’t even hear you at the end. You are light on your feet, Hassan.”

He grinned again. “I take dance lessons.”

Simon shook his head. “That’s fascinating, but
what
are you doing here?”

Hassan’s smile fell. “Mister Wells called me several days ago to see what I could find out about your Miss Vale and her…associates.”

“Why didn’t you just call us?” Simon asked with a growing sense of worry. “Why come all this way?”

Hassan straightened proudly. “Because, in Cairo, you hired me to help you. And after what I have learned, you, Mister Cross, are going to need Hassan’s help.”

Simon was about to ask just what that meant when a woman screamed and then men shouted. It sounded liked it was coming from the front entrance. A few people hurried past them toward the sound. There was some sort of commotion at the first pylon.

“Don’t let anyone else see that you’re here. Meet us back at the hotel,” Simon said to Hassan as he took Elizabeth by the hand and started toward the gate.

“Thank you, Hassan!” Elizabeth said. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! And remember…Trust in Hassan!”

~ ~ ~

Elizabeth offered Hassan a drink, but he shook his head. He looked around admiringly at their suite in the Winter Palace and she realized, he probably wasn’t invited into places like this very often.

He stood, unsure in the middle of the room, until Simon gestured for him to take a seat. He nodded, a little surprised, then brushed the back of his robes with his hands and sat down carefully on the white sofa.

“Go on,” Simon prompted.

“I spoke with many people,” Hassan said. “But many would not speak with me.”

Elizabeth sat down next to Hassan. “They’re afraid.”

Hassan nodded. “There are some who know of the cult and your Mrs. Vale, but they fear for their lives. They believe she is magic.”

She and Simon exchanged a quick glance. Neither was surprised to hear it. As Madame Petrovka, Vale had used her knowledge of the past to fool people into thinking she was a psychic, complete with spooky séances and chats with the dead.

Simon sat down opposite them and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “And I suppose she performed some feat that convinced them of this?”

Hassan’s forehead knit together. “They say she appeared out of thin air.”

Simon’s eyes shifted briefly to Elizabeth’s and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. They both appeared out of thin air themselves when they arrived.

“She arrived in the middle of a secret ceremony for Sekhmet. She said she was sent by the goddess,” Hassan continued.

“And all of these cult members believed her?” Simon said.

Hassan cocked his head to the side. “Not all of them. There was one who challenged her.”

“Did you speak with him?” Simon asked.

“He is dead,” Hassan said. “And unlike your Mrs. Vale, I cannot speak to the dead.”

Elizabeth looked anxiously at Simon who nodded slowly, and pressed on. “Did you learn anything more? How many members are there?”

“Twenty, perhaps thirty. It is difficult to say.”

Elizabeth whistled softly. After what the cult member had said in the jail, about being one of the Seven Arrows, she’d kind of been hoping that was it. Seven, they could handle, but…

“Thirty?” Simon said, arching his eyebrows. He cleared his throat. “Right. Anything else that might help us?”

Hassan frowned. “Only that she has been preparing for something. For many months.”

“What?” Elizabeth asked.

Hassan shook his head. “I am unsure, but if it involves Sekhmet, it will be blood.”

Elizabeth shivered at that.

“Do you believe in the old gods?” Simon said.

Hassan shrugged. “I neither believe, nor disbelieve. Is it so strange though, to think God has many faces?”

Elizabeth could see Simon consider the question, not in an off-handed rhetorical way, but truly consider it. Neither of them were what anyone would call religious. Both of their faiths were best described as vague.

Finally, Simon nodded.

“Thank you for doing all this,” Elizabeth said.

Hassan nodded and, taking her statement as his cue to leave, stood.

Simon and Elizabeth followed suit.

“You really could have called,” Simon said as Hassan started for the door. “You didn’t need to come all this way.”

Hassan stopped at the door and turned back. He squared his shoulders and his pot belly stuck out proudly.

“I am your dragoman,” he said. “What sort of guide would I be if I abandoned you when the path grew dark?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Elizabeth enjoyed the breeze as their carriage trotted down the dirt road and into the Valley of the Kings. It was hot and dusty, but she was glad they didn’t have to make the long hike to Henri’s dig this time. Carriages had been provided at the ferry on the west bank, and now one carried them toward through the rocky wadi to the moment they’d been waiting for—the opening of the chamber.

Other carriages trundled along ahead and behind, kicking up long trails of dust. Jack and Diana, the Whitesides, the Everetts and the rest of Henri’s entourage wound their way through the canyons to witness history.