Mr.Mahjoud followed her.He paused at a case of swords, giving the blades a bland study.
Constance studied him in turn.Was there a telling gleam of familiarity in Mr.Mahjoud’s eyes as he looked over the weapons?
She had not given up on her theory that beneath his fussy waistcoats, Mr.Mahjoud was actually a deadly Sudanese warrior.
“Hmm,” Mr.Mahjoud commented, apparently unimpressed.
Constance decided that this response clearly supported her hypothesis.
“But if this is the old armory, does that mean there’s a new armory?”Ellie wondered with a frown.
Vanika whistled a suspiciously casual tune, ignoring the question.
“You’ve got all kinds of fun stuff in here.But what’s with the big outfit?”Adam nodded to an enormous blanket of thin metal scales that hung over a wooden scaffold roughly twice his own height.
“That is for the elephants,” Vanika authoritatively informed him.“From when the maharaja’s herd was actually used for war.”
Adam looked intrigued.“You’re saying ‘herd’ like there’s still one kicking around.”
“Why wouldn’t there be?”Vanika returned dismissively.“Now come on!”
She dashed from the armory, leaving the rest of them to hurry after her through a twisting maze of hallways.The girl named rooms with a wave of her hand as they raced by.
“That’s the Rani Salon, and that’s the Courtyard of the Winds.They call that one the Peacock Room—because the walls are decorated with peacocks,” she added with a roll of her eyes.
Ellie quickened her pace to catch up with the child.“I believe I heard something about a library.”
“Oh, that.It’s enormous,” Vanika commented distractedly.
“But is it nearby?”Ellie pleaded hopefully.
“Not at all,” Vanika replied and dashed onward.
She led them through soaring audience chambers and jewel-like gardens.Constance drank it all in, tying the places she passed to the stories in her head.There was the stone bridge where one of her great-great-grandfathers had declared his allegiance to the Sultan of Golconda.The tower with the blue roof was where a long-dead maharaja had imprisoned his mad brother.
All of it was real, and she washere.
A high, clear voice called out to them from the top of a stairwell as they entered a more modern wing of the palace.
“What areyoudoing down there?”
The speaker was a boy of nine who glared down at them with his hands on his hips, elegantly dressed in a shimmering jacquard sherwani.Unlike their guide, he was completely free of dust.
Vanika skidded to a stop at the foot of the stairs.“Who said it was any of your business?”
“You’re supposed to be in school,” the boy accused.
“I thought you didn’twantme to be in school with you,” Vanika shot back saucily.
“I don’t want you there!But you’re stillsupposedto.”The boy studied Constance and the others with undisguised curiosity.“Lady scholar.English archaeologist.Yankee surveyor.And that one must be my cousin.”His finger stopped on Constance.
“It’s rude to point!”Vanika cried out triumphantly, jabbing a finger at the boy.
“It’s rude to miss school!”the boy retorted.
“Soyou’reone of my cousins, then,” Constance pressed.
The boy straightened with an air of dignity.“I am Arjuna Krishna Devi, son of Balaram Hari Devi and nephew to His Highness Maharaja Vijayrama Chandra Devi.”
