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It was possible that it just hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps by the time wesailed back and arrived at Shepheard’s, there would be another letter waiting for me.

The thought brightened me up considerably.

Kareem came to help me with my belongings, and as I stepped out of my room—possibly for the last time—I spotted Whit assisting my uncle with his luggage. He glanced over, looking as disheveled as I felt, and studied my face. His gaze flicked from my tired eyes to the downward curve of my mouth, and then he frowned. My uncle called for him from where he stood by Trajan’s Kiosk, and Whit turned away to continue helping him.

I said goodbye to the crew, and then to Abdullah and even Mr. Fincastle, whose gruff goodbye confirmed my initial dislike of the man. Isadora surprised me by giving me a tight hug.

“Remember to not be so trusting,” she whispered. “I won’t always be there to teach you how to shoot. You do remember how, don’t you?”

“I’ll hardly forget the lesson,” I said dryly.

“Write to me,” she said. “You know where to find me.”

I promised her I would. Before anyone could call me away, I ran to the Temple of Isis, my boots kicking up the hot sand in my wake. Inside the temple, everything looked the same, while I felt my insides were being wrung out to dry. This would be my last chance to see Cleopatra’s final resting place, before it was discovered by the rest of the world. This moment was for just her and me, the taste of roses in my mouth, the magic rioting under my skin.

When I finally made it to the burial chamber, tears pricked the corners of my eyes. The objects and artifacts glinted gold from the light of the soft flame of my candle. I didn’t want to forget any of the details, but more important, I didn’t want to forget what it felt like to have found her.

I’m glad she rested with her family. Glad, too, that everything that had been provided for her journey through the underworld was accounted for and recorded. Years from now, Abdullah’s careful recordings would be a guide for those studying the last gasp of her life on Earth. Time slipped by and I forced myself to turn away from Cleopatra’s sarcophagus. My gaze lingered in the treasury, wishing I could place the ring back where it belonged.

The ring had started everything.

Papá had sent it to me for a reason. I might never know it, and the thought nearly killed me. I felt as if I were saying goodbye to him all over again. What had happened to him?

I wished I had the answer.

My thoughts returned to Elvira, and I knew it was time to go. I passed Kareem on the way back to the campsite. I called him over with a quick wave.

“I’m leaving, and I wanted to say goodbye. It was wonderful meeting you.”

He smiled. “Don’t be sad, sitti. You’ll be back.”

I blinked away tears. I hoped that was true, but that depended on what had happened to Elvira. It also depended on my uncle.

“Ma’ es-salama,” he said.

I made my way down to the water, where theElephantinewaited. All of our belongings were grouped together on the bank, and Tío Ricardo and Whit were in deep conversation. The former appeared stern, the latter frustrated. Then my uncle boarded the dahabeeyah as I joined Whit on the sandbank. He looked as rumpled as ever, wrinkled shirt untucked, boots worn and scuffed beyond the help of polishing, and his hair windswept, falling at an angle across his brow.

We stared at each other, Whit’s hands deep in his pockets, and my own nervously clasped behind my back.

“What were you two discussing?” I asked finally. It hadn’t looked like a friendly conversation.

He stared down at me. “I never wanted you to feel anything for me,” he said. “I’m sorry that you do.”

“I’m not,” I said.

“I’m coming with you to Cairo.”

My heart lifted, practically soaring upward like a bird with outstretched wings. But Whit read the apparent joy in my face, and he shook his head. “I have to go back to England.”

I crashed back onto solid ground. “You’re going back?”

“After the military, I was a mess. Maybe parts of me still are. But Ricardo gave me a job, purpose. Direction. It helped to straighten me out abit. But I can’t continue ignoring my responsibilities. My parents expected me to return a year ago. I can’t keep puttingitoff any longer.”

Itbeing his marriage. We were going to be a world away from each other, me in Argentina, him in England. And he would have awife.His days in Egypt had always been numbered. Regret filled me slowly as I thought of our time on this island together. The way we had worked together, cataloguing every discovery, no matter how small. We had been a team and now we would be nothing at all. Not even friends.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for,” I said softly. “What was it?”

He remained quiet for a long beat and then shrugged. “Cleopatra had an ancestor—alsonamed Cleopatra—who was a renowned alchemist and Spellcaster. I was looking for a single sheet of parchment she’d written on before she died.”