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“Of course,” she said. “I am my mother’s daughter. I’ve also picked out something for you.”

I stared at my cousin in helpless fascination as she rummaged through the trunk I’d left behind and then through hers. At last she produced a gown wrapped in tissue paper, which she laid out carefully on my bed.

“I didn’t know what to pack, so I brought two of everything,” she said. “I think this will look lovely on you.”

I didn’t disagree. Gold florals were stitched on the ivory silk, and cream lace covered the hem in delicate vines, as if rising from a forest floor. The shoulders were accentuated by soft pink tulle, creating a kind of cap sleeve that would gently flutter against my arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wear this?”

Elvira smiled mischievously, and carefully unwrapped her own gown. I let out a laugh. Her gown was identical to mine, but instead of ivory, her silk looked the lightest shade of spun gold.

“We’re going to look like twins,” I said, laughing.

“You need a bath,” she said, eyeing me critically. “I’ll order one for you. And I recommended washing your hair twice.”

The bathtub was in a small room adjoining my parents’ former room, and once it was filled with hot water, I sank into it, sighing deeply. I loved every minute of living on Philae, but I wouldn’t lie and say I hadn’t missed modern conveniences. As my cousin recommended, I washed my hair twice with the rose-scented soap she’d brought from Argentina and then climbed out with clean hair and glowing skin—if a little sunburnt.

We got ready slowly, each of us helping the other with the infernal corsets and bustles, and the long trains of our dresses. My hair had finally dried by then and Elvira braided it and wrapped it high on my head, pinning it with pearl-studded clips. I helped pin her thick hair up using a lace ribbon.

Elvira lit a match and outlined her eyes, and I followed suit. We applied cream of roses to our skin, rendering it soft and dewy, and tinted beeswax on our lips. The routine settled me, reminding me of the countless balls we’d readied ourselves for together. We looked at ourselves in the mirror, and I turned to my cousin.

“Would Tía Lorena be ashamed of me?”

“Not even a little bit.”

She linked her arm through mine and together we made our way down to meet my uncle.

My last night in Egypt.

WHIT

I snapped my leather trunk closed as a loud rap on my hotel door broke the solemn quiet, interrupting the running list in my mind in preparation for my departure. My ticket back to England had already been sent for, and I’d left instructions to burn my uniform the moment I left Shepheard’s. I don’t know why I hadn’t done it yet. No, that was a lie.

It had everything to do with the general.

Another knock came. “Whit, I know you’re there. Drowning in bourbon, most likely.”

I opened the door to reveal Ricardo. “I haven’t drunk anything in an age.”

He grunted and pushed his way inside, turning to study the made-up room. Other than my uniform, I was leaving nothing of myself behind.

“I need you to do one more thing before you go,” Ricardo said. “When do you leave?”

“Not for a couple of days,” I said, shutting the door. “I have a few things to tie up.”

Namely, the assurance that no one would follow me back to England. I’d made enemies in Cairo, and while their arms might not reach England, I still had scores to settle. Debts to pay.

Ricardo pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. “This should cover it, and then some.”

Payment for services rendered. “What do you need me to do?”

“My sister absconded with hundreds of artifacts, and if she’s smart—which we both know she is—then she’ll want to sell quickly. The longer she has that kind of baggage, the riskier it is for her. I need you to find out if my sister is in Cairo.”

“Jolly,” I said dryly. “She will have gone underground—but I can ask around.”

“Yes, I’m sure your Curator friends in The Company will be pleased to see you,” he said, moving to the door.

“The ones who don’t want to kill me, sure,” I muttered. “My questions might arise notice in your direction.”