"Which would be right about ... there." I pointed to an enormous pile of rubble and scree.
"There?" Mother frowned.
"Well, it is between the two temples, so any temple Thutmose III had built would be staring down at Hatshepsut, and he would in effect be above her," I explained.
"Ja, but it looks like all the excavators in the valley have dumped their unwanted debris until they created a mountain of junk," Jadwiga pointed out.
"True," I said, my enthusiasm waning somewhat.
"Well, that's why we brought shovels, isn't it?" Rumpf asked, handing one to Jadwiga and Nabir. "The sooner we start, the sooner we'll know." And with that, he strode over to the tower of rocky debris and began digging.
The rest of us followed, albeit less zealously.
We dug—and dug—our shovels making nothing but a small dent in the enormous pile. In fact, we dug the entire morning. I quickly realized that doing excavation of this sort is far less satisfying than just stumbling onto a hidden annex.
Just past noon, we took a short break for a quick lunch. Everyone else took a seat in the shade from an outcrop of the third terrace of Hatshepsut's temple. I, however, looked for a place to sit a small ways away. All this digging was discouraging enough that I was afraid I'd catch a case of Jadwiga's doldrums if I sat too close to him. He was so downcast that his poor mustache nearly drooped to the ground. Although I had to admit I would be, too, if I did very much of this and never found anything.
Isis had been poking and sniffing around all morning and now sat perched at the base of a particularly steep section of debris. After looking at it closely to be certain it wouldn't all come tumbling down, I laid my handkerchief on the ground and sat down on it with my back to the hill, almost like a chair. As I unwrapped my sandwich, Isis came over to see what I was eating.
"You probably shouldn't sit there, ja?" Jadwiga intoned. "The whole mountain might fall down on your head."
We had to find something today, if only to cheer him up. "I'll be fine," I chirped, putting as much cheer into my voice as I could. "I checked it before I sat down." I reached out and patted the mound of dirt behind me, which let loose with a small shower of debris. Bother. That was not the reassurance I had been looking for. Luckily for me, however, Jadwiga's attention was drawn by something else at the moment.
"Here comes the frosting on the cakes," he said with a deep, sad sigh. "They have found us out and will now drag us to jail."
"What?" Mother hopped to her feet and spun around to see who was approaching. "Quick," she said over her shoulder. "Hide those shovels."
I shielded my eyes from the bright sun and peered at the figure riding toward us. The rider was a tall man with military bearing wearing unrelieved black, except for the little red fez perched atop his head. As he drew closer, I saw the glint of gold-rimmed glasses and a fat black mustache.
Oh no! I thought, glancing to see where I'd set Isis's case. It was back by the donkeys, where, hopefully, he wouldn't be able to get a good look at it.
When the rider had drawn close enough that we could make out his face, it confirmed my worst fears. "Mr. Borscht!" Mother said, sailing forward.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and it was all I could do to keep from running in the opposite direction. Mr. Borscht—von Braggenschnott—halted his horse in front of us, stepped off the beast, and bowed low to Mother. "Good day, Madame Throckmorton," he said. "I had reason to come to Luxor this week and thought I'd check in on you. Although"—he smiled—"I had thought to find you at the Valley of the Kings, as we had discussed."
"I'm so glad to see you again," Mother said. "We've been enjoying a little picnic today and seeing the sights." Her voice was a bit loud, as if she could make up with volume what she lacked in honesty.
Mr. Borscht gave a friendly chuckle. He glanced good-naturedly at the partially concealed shovels. "So I see, Madame Throckmorton, so I see."
Eager to turn the conversation to other things, Mother asked, "Have you met my assistants?" As she introduced Mr. Rumpf to von Braggenschnott, a horrid thought occurred to me. What if Mr. Rumpf was working for Chaos, too? He was very intense, a trait that nearly all Serpents of Chaos seemed to possess. He was also German, like von Braggenschnott, and he even wore the same glasses.
But Awi Bubu had recommended the man himself, hadn't he? Or had he recommended Jadwiga? My gaze darted back and forth between the two, trying to determine which looked like someone Awi Bubu might have recommended.
"And how is your lovely daughter enjoying Luxor?" Von Braggenschnott's voice interrupted my escalating suspicions. "Is your education progressing nicely, fräulein?"
"Quite nicely," I said stiffly.
"Have you spotted any more vermin, I wonder?" he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. "A few." My words were clipped, and he laughed. Mother looked a bit perplexed but laughed politely.
"Do be careful, fräulein," von Braggenschnott added.
"Be careful of what?" Gunter Rumpf asked. He, at least, could sense the undercurrent between Borscht and me, even if he didn't know what it meant. Which made me feel horridly guilty for my suspicions.
Von Braggenschnott leaned forward. "There are many hidden dangers in the valley," he said. "Black-market antiquities dealers, cutthroat collectors who are not above knocking heads around and taking what they want. Unstable conditions," he added, with a glance at the shifting pile of rubble behind us. One can never be too careful," he said, looking pointedly in my direction.
"If any of you need anything, Madame Throckmorton, anything at all, you let me know," he added.
"Excellent. Thank you so much for stopping by."
"My pleasure, Madame Throckmorton." He bowed at Mother. "Miss Throckmorton." When he bowed at me, I felt faint. This whole visit had been designed to let me know that he was here and he was watching me. No matter if we changed our plans or not, he would always be one step ahead of us.
As he rode away, Mother said, "See, Mr. Jadwiga, there was nothing to worry about." She was trying to cheer up the poor man. When she is happy, she likes everyone to be happy.
"Ja," he said, picking up his shovel. "Or maybe he is just trying to lull us into a false sense of security."
Could the man be any more of a wet blanket?
Depressed enough on my own, I returned to my lunch spot before he could infect me with even more melancholy. I dropped to the ground, my mind awhirl with the implications of von Braggenschnott's visit. I would have to get word to Major Grindle. And what about my meeting with the wedjadeen tomorrow? How would I keep von Braggenschnott from finding out about that?
I groaned and leaned back against the pile of rubble, my head clunking on a particularly large rock. "Ow." I turned to brush the rock aside, but there wasn't one. Just dirt. That was odd. I reached for my work gloves and slipped them on, then felt along the hillside where I'd just bumped my head.
It was hard as stone. I scowled at it, then began carefully brushing the dirt aside, grateful for something to focus on. The voices of the others faded into the distance, along with all thoughts of Chaos. It was just me and the dirt and whatever mystery might lie behind it. After a few moments, I'd gotten rid of enough dirt to see something dull white shining through. A bone? I wondered, with a faint jolt of horror. I hesitated then, not wanting to disturb the dead. Then I reasoned he was most likely already disturbed and continued brushing away the dirt.
A few seconds later, I realized that it wasn't a bone at all. It was much too big for that. It had a slightly rounded shape with vertical ridges running up and down. Man-made, then, I thought, a tiny thrill running through me. Using the greatest of care, I began scraping away the last of the excess dirt from around the object.