The Bone House - By Stephen R. Lawhead Page 0,64

to be found in a particular tomb of which she had a certain knowledge. She wanted me to organise the excavation of said tomb—an experience, she suggested, that would prove invaluable to my ongoing work.” He glanced at Kit for confirmation. “She also said you would be my guide. Am I to take it you know the location of the tomb of which she spoke?”

“I’m pretty sure I could find it again.” Kit felt his stomach squirm, and a clammy feeling washed over him.

“And you will show me?”

Kit nodded. The thought of returning to the scene of his recent ordeal—and the decaying corpses of Cosimo and Sir Henry—filled him with dread, but he did not see that he had any choice in the matter just now. And then he saw it: the sheer beauty of Wilhelmina’s plan, and it brought him up short.

Dr. Young saw him stop and turned to ask, “Is anything the matter?”

“Call me a slow coach, but I just realised that Wilhelmina is some kind of genius.” Now that he saw it, her plan was as obvious as the nose on his face. How many times did he have to remind himself: this was not the same world he had left behind. Mina had sent him to an alternate Egypt where, in the year 1822, the tomb of Anen had not yet been discovered, much less excavated. The notion of snatching the map from the tomb before it could be found by anyone else was a shrewd bit of guile. The girl was canny, give her that. “I think we’re in for a real treat,” Kit said. “We can leave whenever you like.”

“Is it far, this tomb?”

“Not too far. With transportation, less than a day.”

“Splendid!” The physician rubbed his hands, his steel-rimmed glasses glinting in the pale evening light. “Ah, here, we are! The Blue Lotus.” Dr. Young stopped beside a low-slung, rather boxy-looking boat with a broad open deck and twin red sails, which were furled to the masts for the night. A gangplank extended from the bow, at the foot of which three sailors in pale blue kaftans squatted around a hookah pipe, which gurgled as the smoke bubbled up. A most acrid smoke drifted on the soft evening breeze.

“Salaam!” called Thomas. He greeted the captain and crew of his vessel by name, and then climbed the gangplank. “This way. Watch your step!”

A servant appeared bearing a tray with a jar and glasses.

“Welcome aboard, my friend,” said Thomas, pouring fresh lemonade into the glasses and passing one to his guest. “Please, make yourself at home. Mehmet, here, will show you to your quarters. I have only the one guest cabin. All the others are filled with the accoutrements of my work.”

Kit gulped down his lemonade and followed the servant to the companionway below deck, and to the guest quarters. “Please to refresh yourself, sir,” said Mehmet, ushering Kit inside. “I will sound the gong for dinner.”

The cabin was snug and contained two narrow beds at one end and a small water closet at the other. There was a round porthole window and, between the beds, a night table with two candles. The beds were laid with clean white sheets, and there was a lace curtain at the porthole. The floors and walls were teak with brass fittings—all in all, a trim and tidy little stateroom.

“Well, Kit, old son,” said Kit, gazing around with approval, “it looks like we’ve landed on our feet.” A basin of fresh water sat on a stand. Stepping to the porcelain bowl, he dipped his hands and washed his face, then wet the linen towel and, kicking off his shoes, stretched out on the bed with the damp cloth over his eyes.

“Thank you, Wilhelmina,” he sighed. At the invocation of her name, he mused, “What was it she called Dr. Young?” The phrase from her letter came back to him: The last man in the world to know everything.

CHAPTER 18

In Which a Visit to Prague Is Wangled

Lady Haven Fayth sat on the edge of the bed and laced up her shoes—good sturdy high-top boots to protect her feet from the hazards of unfamiliar roads in lands and times unknown. Burleigh had promised to teach her the intricacies of what she called ley leaping, and so far the Black Earl—as she thought of him—had been as good as his word. He had taken her on several of his journeys to various worlds and shown her how to recognise some of the more

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