The Curse of the Pharaohs - Elizabeth Peters [92]
“You are a wonder, ma’am, and that’s the truth,” O’Connell exclaimed.
I smiled in acknowledgment of the compliment, well deserved though it was. “Hurry, Ali Hassan,” I called. “If darkness falls before we reach the cave…”
The cat had disappeared, almost as if, having completed her mission, she had no need to stay. Ali Hassan’s pace increased. I was not at all surprised to see that our path now led eastward, in the direction from which we had come. The lower rim of the sun dipped below the horizon. Ali Hassan broke into an undignified trot, his blue robe flapping. Our shadows rushed along before us, elongated gray-blue shapes like the protective has of the ancient Egyptians.
Though the lengthening shadows made it easier to see obstructions in the path, it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout to avoid falling. I was aware that our general direction was eastward, but because I had to watch my footing I did not realize where we were heading until Ali Hassan came to a stop.
“We are here, oh, Sitt Hakim,” he said, between pants. “We have come to the place and the sun is not down; I have done what you asked. Tell this man to take his hands from me and assure the divine Sekhmet that I have obeyed her command.”
He had spoken the literal truth. A last thin crescent of fiery red marked the place where the sun had sunk. Dusk was gathering fast. Not until I raised my eyes from the immediate surroundings did I realize that we were near the edge of the cliff, only a few hundred yards north of where we had ascended.
“Son of a rabid dog,” snarled Abdullah, shaking Ali Hassan till his teeth rattled, “you have led us in a circle. There is no cave here. What trick are you playing?”
“It is here,” Ali Hassan insisted. “I lost my way at first; anyone might lose his way; but we have come to the place. Give me my money and let me go.”
Naturally we paid no attention to this ridiculous demand. I ordered the men to light the lanterns. By the time they had done so only a faint lingering afterglow relieved the black of the star-sprinkled heavens. In the lamplight Ali Hassan’s malevolent countenance might have belonged to one of the night demons whose baleful influence he flouted so contemptuously. His open mouth was a cavern of darkness, ringed by rotting fangs of teeth.
Abdullah took a lantern and led the way, pushing our reluctant robber ahead of him. The path led down the cliff. It proved less hazardous than I had feared; but the descent was breathtaking enough, in almost total darkness and with an inexperienced companion. Poor Mr. O’Connell had lost his Gaelic joie de vivre; groaning and swearing under his breath he followed me down, and when the light shone on the bloodstained bandage that covered his hand I had to admire his courage, for I knew the injury must pain him considerably. We were close to the bottom of the cliff when Ali Hassan turned to one side and pointed.
“There. There. Now let me go.”
Trained as I am, I would never have seen the opening without the aid of his pointing finger. The cliffs are so seamed by cracks and fissures, each one of which casts its own shadow, that only prolonged investigation can tell which leads to an opening. While Abdullah held the lantern —and Ali Hassan—I investigated the indicated crevice.
It was low and very narrow. My height is not much over five feet and I had to stoop in order to enter. Once under the rock lintel the space opened up; I could tell by the feel of the air that a cave lay before me, but it was as black as ink and I am not ashamed to admit that I had no intention of proceeding without light. I called to Abdullah to hand me the lantern. Advancing, I held it high.
Imagine a hollow sphere, some twenty feet in diameter. Bisect the sphere and close off the open section, leaving only a narrow slit for entrance. Such was the extent and the shape of the space I now beheld, though the interior was as jagged and rocky as a hollowed sphere would be smooth. These observations were made at a later