Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(57)

“Really, Eleanor,” Allison declared shrilly, striding into the room in a rustle of skirts. “You realize you have spectators?”

I stiffened, and Daniel scowled. But Allison had already strutted past.

I drew away from Daniel, ignoring the disappointed droop in his shoulders. Allison was right—we had spectators, and now really was not the time for romance. So with an energetic interest in the landscape, I set to eating my bread and watching the muddy Nile slide beneath us. The plateau and the three pointed structures rose up from a vast ocean of sand. So silent and lonely after the farms and bustle of the city. There was no sound in that arid world. No movement. Only the hazy light of dawn.

Soon we floated over a tree-lined path with tiny figures on the road. At the end of the path, where the complex of ruins began, I glimpsed a man and his donkey. . . .

My mouth fell open. The man was no larger than a single stone in the pyramid. These monuments were larger than I ever could have guessed—larger than seemed possible. And the Great Pyramid—the biggest pyramid of all—surprised me most. Not only did our airship float as high as its peak, but our egg-shaped shadow wasn’t even a twentieth of its size.

“What is it?” Daniel asked, moving to my side and sipping his own coffee. “See any sign of where we should land?”

“Uh . . .” I pressed my fingers to my lips and examined the pyramids. We were closing in fast now, and what had seemed to be only three pyramids were in fact nine. And the tawny limestone looked like bricks of gold in the dawn glow—misty and rich against the receding gray skies beyond—while the eroded head of the Sphinx poked up from the sand. She seemed almost . . . longing, as if staring at the same view for thousands of years was beginning to wear away at her soul.

I found Daniel gazing upon the Great Pyramid, his face a mask of reverence. “You know,” he said slowly, “the first time I ever went down the Mississippi, I thought the highest point in the world was a bluff in Missouri. It still stands out in my mind, Empress.” His gaze darted to me—then right back to the Great Pyramid. “I thought that cliff was the biggest thing I’d ever seen. All the trees at the top looked so tiny. . . . But this pyramid? It makes that Missouri bluff look like a sand castle.”

I smiled at him, but pink burned onto his cheeks. “I reckon I’m just showin’ my ignorance.”

“Pshaw.” I nudged him with my elbow, but when I opened my mouth to declare him absurd, Joseph called out, “Eleanor? I really must know where to land.”

He, Daniel, and Allison all turned expectant eyes to me.

Oliver? I called mentally, thinking he might be able to hear my thoughts as I could sometimes hear his. Where do we go?

Three long breaths passed, and Oliver did not respond. No thought in my head, no hint of emotion over our bond.

My demon had cut me off, and with that realization, a spark of anger ignited in my shoulders. For all his threats and fickleness, I knew Oliver could not leave me until I broke his bond. So let him have another temper tantrum.

Hoping for inspiration, I flung a final look at the colossal, jagged pyramids and rocky plateau.

“Well,” I began, cringing, “the truth of the matter is, I do not know where . . .” My words died on my tongue. The first orange beam of light was now spraying over the limestone. It lit up the pyramids as if they were sun’s rays. So bright. So golden.

And movement was flashing before the Sphinx’s head.

Hurry.

The word burst in my brain, as glaring and sharp as the sunrise.

“Spyglass,” I croaked, lurching close to the window. Daniel pushed it to me, and I locked my magnified gaze on the Sphinx’s eroded head just as a scruffy jackal trotted before her patient face, plopped down, and looked directly at me.

Hurry, he repeated, his yellow eyes trapping mine. You must hurry.

“Go to the Sphinx,” I said.

“How do you know?” Daniel asked.

“I just . . . do,” I murmured. No one would believe me about the jackal anyway. “Trust me, Daniel; we need to land beside the Sphinx.”

We split up. Joseph, Oliver, Daniel, and I would find the Old Man; Jie and Allison would remain with the airship.

Jie was opposed to it—of course—but Joseph insisted someone ought to guard our things. And since Allison was adamantly unwilling to searching for the Old Man (Thutmose II and the Hell Hounds had sated her appetite for the Dead), that meant Jie had to be the one to stay back as well. She needed her hourly bleeding, and as Allison pointed out, what if more excitement should happen (like last night!) and we all forgot?

As these discussions were rambling on heatedly beside the airship’s swaying ladder—which sent crisscrossed shadows over the Sphinx’s face—I waited anxiously nearby. The morning air was quickly warming, and sand gritted in my eyes, coated my skin and my lips. I barely noticed. I simply hopped from foot to foot and stared up at the Great Pyramid. It towered above me like enormous steps. Up, up, until it blocked out the entire morning sky—and all the other pyramids too. Overwhelming, dominant, ancient.

And slowly ascending, one springing leap at a time, was the jackal.

For half a breath, awe and fear cramped together inside me. We were here—in Egypt at the pyramids. We were about to find the Old Man and learn the secrets of the Black Pullet. It was what Elijah had wanted. What Marcus wanted . . . and now it was what we wanted too.