Strange and Ever After (Something Strange and Deadly #3)(58)

And I was trusting a spirit jackal to guide me.

“You see something, don’t you?” Oliver’s voice snaked into my ear, almost carried off by the gusting wind.

I tensed. There was nothing cruel in his tone . . . yet there was nothing gentle either. His voice was empty—as was his expression when I glanced at him sideways.

“Yes,” I admitted. If anyone would believe me, it was Oliver. “I see a jackal. We are supposed to be following him.”

“You seem unimpressed by this jackal, so I presume you have seen him before.” Oliver spoke it as a statement, not a question.

I grimaced. It was one more secret I had withheld from my demon.

But he did not seem angry—no flash of his eyes. No sharp words. As he swatted his hair from his eyes, he said, “He is not a jackal, El. He is the jackal, and it is best we not keep him waiting.”

“You know him?”

Oliver gave a grunt of acknowledgment. “There are many creatures in the spirit realm. The jackal is a messenger of sorts . . . I think. He stayed on the dock; I lived beyond. We never interacted.”

“You are not upset I didn’t tell you about him?”

Oliver settled a flat-eyed gaze on me. “A bit. It would have at least explained how you crossed the curtain despite your dream ward. But . . .” He chewed his lip for a moment. “I am less upset over the jackal and more worried about him. Ivory artifacts and spiritual messengers open many questions. Let us hope we find the answers here.” He dipped his head toward the Great Pyramid before launching into long strides, his feet kicking up sand as he aimed for the first jagged level of enormous stones.

The need to chase after him swelled in my chest—to grab his sleeve and beg him to yell or drink from his flask or show any sign of what he felt. He was not only worried. Or if he was, it was a more terrifying, crippling worry than I had ever seen my demon wear.

But I simply set off behind him, assuming Joseph and Daniel would catch up soon enough.

Of course, climbing the Great Pyramid was no easy feat. Though the structure looked smooth from afar, the walls were actually comprised of steplike bricks that rose up to the peak. Each level of the bricks was as high as my head. So tall were the stones that I could not climb them unassisted.

“Help?” I called weakly, mortified heat rising in my face.

Oliver paused, already three levels up and with his clothes billowing in the sandy breeze.

He glanced back. Then, with seemingly no effort, he hopped to the level above me. He spoke no words, yet he offered me his hand. My heels were just digging into the rough rock when Daniel’s hands gripped my waist.

“I’ll help her,” Daniel said roughly, pushing me up.

Oliver towed me the rest of the way, yet the instant I was steady, he backed off. And he even offered Daniel a nod, as if to say “She is all yours.”

I did not like that. Oliver always jabbed at Daniel given the chance. His temper always ignited around my inventor. But there was no time to dwell on it, for Joseph joined us on the first level.

“Take these,” he said, withdrawing a pulse pistol from his belt and a crystal clamp from his pocket. “We should all be armed. We do not know into what we are walking.”

I accepted the pistol, placing it exactly as Joseph had in my belt and ignoring how the copper coils rubbed against my stomach. Then I shoved the crystal clamp into my pocket.

Joseph offered a pistol to Oliver. My demon pretended not to notice, and in an easy leap, he ascended to the next level. Daniel followed, offering me his hand—but his posture was stiff. His gaze constantly moving and checking our surroundings.

So up we went until I lost all track of time and the sun seared over Cairo. By the time the jackal had stopped his ascent, I was parched and sunburned. I thought surely we must be near the top . . . but a glance back showed we had barely risen half the way. The airship listed in the wind, and a lone figure paced in its shadow.

Jie.

Wiping sweat and sand from my eyes, I turned ahead . . . and found the jackal was now racing horizontally along the stone steps.

Hurry, he insisted. Then he hit the pyramid’s corner and disappeared from view.

“This way,” I said tiredly, kicking into a jog. Joseph, Daniel, and Oliver hurried behind. I was panting even more desperately by the time we rounded the pyramid’s edge—and I caught sight of the jackal once more.

He had stopped halfway along the next ledge. Darkness cloaked this side of the Great Pyramid—and a pointed shadow ran off for what seemed like miles of rocky desert. I squinted into the sudden shade and chose my steps carefully. The stones were more eroded than on the south side, and loose pebbles were everywhere.

When we had crossed almost half the length of the pyramid, I realized with a start that the jackal had abandoned me yet again. I picked up my pace, my gaze darting up and down, ahead and behind. . . .

“What is it?” Oliver called after me.

“I do not know where—” My heel slipped on a rock. I toppled sideways, my arms flinging out. . . .

Oliver’s hands grabbed my waist.

Time slowed. Electricity shot through me from his fingertips. His emotions—his absolute anxiety over this day—sizzled into my skin. Into my lungs.

He was scared, but not because of the unknown. Because of how long he had waited for this one moment—because of how much depended on it.