Guardian of the Horizon - Elizabeth Peters [154]
“Yes, ma’am,” said Sethos meekly. “And then what shall I do with her?”
“Bring her here.”
“What?” The word was a duet between Sethos and Emerson.
“Not here, into this room,” I said impatiently. “Just lead her to the part of the passageway that adjoins our rooms—first explaining to her, of course, where you are going and why. I will then take charge. Don’t argue, Mr. MacFerguson. You know what will happen if you don’t obey me.”
“What?” Emerson inquired.
Since I couldn’t think of an answer, I ignored the question. “Untie his feet, Emerson. Now, Mr. MacFerguson, lead the way.”
I made Sethos show me how the catch operated; it was the same arrangement as the one in the other house. As the heavy slab slowly rose, displaying a flight of narrow stone steps, I added, “You will of course leave the bolt on that side undone.”
“Of course.” Sethos climbed nimbly over the edge and relit the candle he had left on the topmost step. I have seldom seen a more grotesque sight than his face, distorted by shadows. The bulbous nose was a trifle squashed.
“I don’t like this,” Emerson announced loudly. “How do you know he—”
“Hush, Emerson. Mr. MacFerguson, we will meet you here tomorrow night at the same time. I am sure I can trust you to keep your word.”
“Indeed, indeed,” croaked Sethos, gazing soulfully up at me. “Mrs. Emerson, you are the kindest and most forgiving of women. You have convinced me of the evil of my ways. From now on I am a reformed character.”
I might have known he wouldn’t be able to resist a final performance. I put an end to it by lowering the slab onto his head.
Emerson refused to retire until I had explained quite a number of things. This forced me to several flights of invention, though I combined fact with fiction as much as possible.
“There wasn’t time for him to explain how he found out about the Lost Oasis,” I said glibly. “But as you know, we realized a number of people might have done so in a number of different ways. On his first visit he won Tarek’s confidence by representing himself as a friend of ours. This time he found the usurper in control and learned that his position was no longer secure. The usurper doesn’t trust him, and with good reason. He is as anxious as we to return to civilization, and he knows that his best chance of that is through Tarek. That is why I know I can depend on him to assist us.”
“Well, I don’t depend on him,” Emerson declared. “Why don’t we go after Nefret ourselves, if there is a way to her rooms from the tunnels?”
“Do you remember the route we took before, when she came to meet us for the first time?”
“It was ten years ago,” Emerson protested.
“I don’t remember it either. Curse it, I wish we hadn’t let Ramses go off like that. He spent several days exploring those passages and he has a memory like an elephant’s.”
“Nur Misur cannot stay long in that dark place,” Daoud said. “She will be afraid.”
“She’ll never make it that far,” Emerson said. “MacFerguson can’t possibly pull this off.”
From Manuscript H
Tarek’s description of their “friend” wasn’t particularly helpful, though Tarek frankly admitted that “all foreigners” except them looked alike to him. However, a nasty suspicion took root and grew when Tarek went into greater detail about their encounters. The fellow was intimately acquainted with the appearance, activities, and history of the Emerson family. He had been fascinated by the culture of the Holy City, and when he returned after his first visit, bearing wonderful gifts, Tarek had not only allowed him access to every part of the city, including the old tunnels, but had bestowed gifts upon him.
“You let him loot—I mean, take funerary equipment from the tombs?” Ramses asked incredulously.
“Only the most ancient of the tombs, which had been forgotten and neglected,” Tarek said. “Gold and jewels help the living, but they are of no value to the dead. It is a man’s deeds that go with him into the next world, that ensure immortality.”
“No doubt,” Ramses murmured. “But still—”
“He said the objects were for