“Yes, thank you,” my sister added.
He nodded, pale eyes flickering between us. “We must have missed you two when the gate opened.”
“Must have,” I said.
“Everyone is required to check in before walking through the gate.”
“Sorry. We were in a hurry to find seats,” I said quickly.
He dipped his chin. “It won’t happen again, ladies, should you wish to attend the next.”
Then he quietly moved away. I glanced to the first row, but the founder had already dismissed us and was facing the front of the room again.
Phillip cleared his throat. “Now that we are all settled and quite comfortable, it’s time to go over the essential details. As always, here are our rules: One, you are never to reveal the location of the gate you have walked through. Two, all payment must be rendered in twenty-four hours. No exceptions. Should you fail to do so, the item will go to the second-highest bidder. We will, of course, provide an address where you may send the funds. Three, any person found to be guilty of revealing the identity of anyone attending the auction will be brutally dealt with.” Phillip gave a thin-lipped smile. “You have been warned.”
I shivered as I tied my mask and then helped my sister tie hers.
“Let’s begin with the auction,” Phillip continued. “I’ll be presenting our customary lot of artifacts acquired in Egypt. But first, we have two unique items that have been recently discovered that I’d like to show you all.” He placed the amulet back onto the stand. “The first item open is this extraordinary heart scarab; its size is a little over two inches in length,” hesaid. “And as I’ve shown, there are rows of hieroglyphs on the bottom, and our scholars believe it to be a protection spell for the recently deceased. Opening bid is one thousand pounds.”
Immediately, several paddles swung up into the air.
“I don’t recognize that one, do you?” Isadora whispered.
I shook my head. “No. I don’t think it belonged to Cleopatra,” I whispered back as the auctioneer accepted bids, the number going higher and higher. “I wish I would have thought to ask Farida to take pictures of the room and everyone in it.”
She nudged my side and then pointed with her chin behind us. I craned my neck to find Farida quietly taking pictures from the corridor. She met my gaze and smiled a grim sort of smile before disappearing again.
“Sold!” the auctioneer yelled. “For sixteen thousand pounds to the lady with number forty-three.”
“What if Mother decided not to sell at the gate?” Isadora asked. “What if she decided it was too risky?”
I pondered her question. Mamá had gone rogue, betraying the people she worked for, but she still needed to move the artifacts. I couldn’t know her reasons behind why she did what she had done, but if it were me, it seemed riskier to hold on to objects that the department of antiquities was now looking for than to try to sell them via an established market.
“She’ll be here.”
Isadora’s blue eyes flickered across the room at the other attendees. “Do you see anyone that might be her?”
I did the same slow perusal, and with a sinking heart, I realized it was too difficult to distinguish one lady from the next. There were one or two that had her same hair color, same slight build, but I couldn’t confirm with any kind of certainty. She might not even be here herself. It’d be stupidly reckless to appear in the same company as the man you had double-crossed.
But if she wasn’t here, how was she planning on selling what she stole?
It occurred to me that she might have sent an emissary. It was a plausible idea and I leaned closer to tell Isadora, but then someone appeared onstage carrying something blue in his gloved hands. The shape lookedfamiliar and my breath caught at the back of my throat. It was only a quick glimpse of the relic, but it was enough to make my blood simmer under my skin. I didn’t pay any attention to the man handling the priceless artifact; I only cared about the familiar item. He placed it onto the stand before walking offstage, and I breathed a sigh of relief at finally being able to get a better look.
A moment later, I couldn’t breathe at all.
It was a statuette of an asp, made of Egyptian faience. My heart thrashed hard against my ribs, and I was assaulted by a sharp, painful memory. A forgotten tomb underneath a temple. The island of Philae, surrounded on all sides by craggy rocks and beyond; the Nile River, sweeping past in a blur of blue and green. Hot sand that I felt through the leather of my boots, and my fingers stained in charcoal. Whit hovering nearby, cataloguing artifacts, and the sound of Abdullah and Ricardo arguing over something or another.
“Isadora,” I whispered. “That’s from Cleopatra’s cache.”
Her brow puckered. “Are you sure? I don’t recognize it.”
“I am certain.” I clutched the paddle in my hand. “Because I drew it.”
She sat back in her seat, for once coming close to a slouch. “If Mother isn’t here, what good is it, though?”
My mind raced, the answer bubbling to the surface. By the time the auctioneer made his remarks, describing the object and the opening bid, I knew exactly what to do.
“Bidding begins at two thousand pounds,” he said.
