Page 43
Story: What the River Knows
The magic inside called to me, and I instinctively understood that it was looking for something. I recalled Mr. Hayes’s words, how magic sought out its likeness. I took a fortifying breath and continued to slice through the grime. Another half inch and—
The wooden box split.
A cold hiss rushed around me, grazing against my skin. Goosebumps flared up and down my arms. I instinctively shut my eyes against the freeze. In the flat black, a woman crossed my vision. She wore a long, gauzy dress and her sandals glinted on her feet, bejeweled and elegant. Slowly, pieces from her surroundings came into view. A long chaise set in a gilded chamber ornate with potted flowers. The smell of flowers rose sharply in my mind. The woman walked to her balcony overlooking the long line of a blue coast.
Someone spoke from behind her.
Joy detonated within her. The woman spun away, her face regal and striking, but not beautiful. She wore her hair long and dark and it swung across her shoulders as she ran from the room.
The moment faded and the chill slipped away from me.
The box sat harmlessly in my hands. Nothing had changed; it was still grimy and old. The carvings near faded. But I had seen something. A memory belonging to a woman from the ancient world. Who had I seen?
Perhaps there was more to the trinket.
I eagerly looked inside, but there was nothing. It might have held something long ago, and whatever it was had long fallen out. My shouldersslumped. I brushed my finger inside and jumped. Whatever had been locked inside had held powerful magic. It sang to me, a loud roar that rang in my ears. Beckoned me. Tasted familiar. The flavor made me think of ancient things. Of temples grounded on amber-hued sand. A woman strolling out on her terrace, a falcon trailing after her, watching over her. The lush scent of the garden in bloom. Flowers bursting in lavish color. Her mouth tasted like roses.
The golden ring had made me feel thesameway.
Cleopatra.
Had I really seen her? My breath came out in a long exhale. I stared down at the wooden box in complete shock, my thoughts racing through my mind. Perhaps the golden ring had once been inside. It made sense why the magic felt so familiar. It seemed highly improbable that I would have found another item that had belonged to the last pharaoh of Egypt. And yet, I had.
I didn’t understandwhy.
A loud knock ruptured my thoughts. I blinked, as the shadowy presence evaporated, leaving behind a trace of her like lingering perfume. A woman who preferred roses, who wore pearls in her hair. Quickly, I tucked the wooden box inside my bag. Another sharp knock. It must be the man Sallam had sent up to help with my luggage. But when I opened the door, the person who stood on the other side wasn’t a hotel employee.
I clutched the door handle, and my words came out brittle. “Tío Ricardo.”
“¿Me permites entrar?”
His shoulders were wide and nearly engulfed the space between the doorframe. He towered over me, and a large part of me wanted to slam the door in his face. I couldn’t get my mother’s letter to Maspero out of my mind. She didn’t trust him. She feared for his safety, for what he might do. I thought of the way he had spoken to Sir Evelyn, arguing about living wages and for Abdullah to have a seat at the table.
Had it all been an act?
I’d never know if I didn’t talk to him. “Of course you can come in,” I said in a softer tone.
He walked forward, his gaze landing on my packed suitcases. My uncledidn’t speak, and I waited for him to reprimand me for disobeying his mandate that I stay inside the hotel room all day. I expected Mr. Hayes had told him every last detail about our excursions. Pressure gathered between my shoulder blades and I braced myself.
“You’re displeased with me,” he said finally.
I raised my brows.
My uncle sighed, tucked a hand into his trouser pocket. “Regardless of what you may believe, I am thinking about you, Inez. I’ve never had the opportunity—I don’t have—” He broke off, flinching. “What I mean to say is that I’m not a parent. But I do know what Lourdes and Cayo would have wanted, and it would have been for you to be at home, far away from all this.”
“But they died,” I said, and for the first time, my voice didn’t crack. “You’re making the decisions now.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I won’t change my mind.”
“Well, you’ve said your goodbye,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
He appeared to be at a loss, looking down at me with a peculiar expression on his face. It was hard to envision his involvement in illegal activities—whatever they were. What did he do in the small hours of the night? I couldn’t imagine him on the other side of the law. Right then, he seemed more like the uncle I remembered. The one with the booming voice and kind smile. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar revealing a bronze throat, and hair scraped back and tucked underneath a leather hat. His pants were well-worn, rolled at the ankle over a pair of scuffed workman’s boots.
“I saw you in the lobby.” He swiftly glanced at my parents’ bedroom. “I want you to know that I’ll have Lourdes’s and Cayo’s things packed away and mailed to you as soon as the season is over. Not long after the new year, I should think.”
I licked my lips. “Please change your mind, Tío.”
Tío Ricardo rubbed his jaw.
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