I thought Roberto might be yelling at me, but I couldn’t hear him now.
In front of me, a blinding passageway extended into the sunlit distance, where a palm-covered island floated upon the Nile. A boat rested on the shore, bobbing as though waiting for the last passenger to arrive.
Barely audible, I said, “My God, it’s been here all along. Samael guarded the entry, and her, his entire life. If only I’d walked deeper that day—”
Halloran?
Twenty feet away, she formed out of the sunlight, as though pulling golden threads together to weave her image. Wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, she had her hair tucked behind her ears.
“Cleo?”
As she walked toward me, tears blurred my eyes. Was this my imagination, or was she truly there? For the moment, I didn’t care. Happiness filled me.
She stopped in front of me. I had to see you one last time. I love you, Halloran.
I stepped forward and pulled her into my arms, holding her as though I’d never let her go. She felt real, warm and soft in my arms. Against her hair, I said, “I’ll always love you, Cleo. Now, you’d better hurry. I don’t know how long the passageway stays open.”
When she backed away, it broke my heart.
Someday you will cross over the threshold and step on to the island alive and well, and I’ll be waiting for you.
She turned and started walking toward the boat on the shore. I kept my eyes on her. I wanted to see her for as long as I could. At the far end of the tunnel, a big man stood beside the boat, waiting for her. He was dressed as a soldier now, in full regalia, with his helmet and shield, and his short sword glinting where it hung from his belt. Antonius.
Cleo turned one last time and gave me the same loving smile she had that day on the bench in front of Starbucks. I’ll see you before you know it. It’ll be less than a moment.
As they stepped into the boat that would take them across the gulf that separated this world and the next, I whispered, “Less than a moment.”
Like a candle flame dying, the light fluttered and went out.
But a glow remained, and I realized my flashlight was still on.
I turned to look at Roberto standing beside the dark pyramid, and called, “Did you see any of that?”
“I saw the pyramid become a torch. Is that what you mean?”
I bowed my head for a long time.
At last, Roberto said, “I’m tired, Hal. Let’s go home.”
“Ginest-hoi, bro.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Passing the magnificent hieroglyphic story of the Battle of Actium without a second glance, I got down on my hands and knees and crawled out into the brilliant water-scented sunlight.
Roberto slid through on his belly and sat on the sand beside me for a while. “I’m nailing the board back in place. You fill the hole.”
When we’d finished, we picked up the few belongings we’d brought with us, and started hiking across the desert to the Jeep Sarah had left for us when she’d flown home a few days ago. The rental was up tomorrow night, a couple of hours before we were scheduled to board our plane to Colorado.
By the time the Jeep came into sight, the sand was dragging at my feet. I turned around to see how Roberto was faring.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Thinking, that’s all.” I suspected he’d suffer some pain-filled nights for helping me carry out this one last duty to the dead.
“’Bout what?”
“Well.” He shrugged. “You remember when Samael said I was a shabti and I’d know what to do when the time came?”
“Yeah.”
“I did, Hal. I knew just what to do.”
I blinked, kept walking. The Jeep was just ahead, sitting off the side of the road covered with dust. I pulled the keys from my pocket. After we’d thrown our stuff in the back, Roberto tugged on the leather cord around his neck to draw out the fabulous medallion. He’d started wearing it as a pendant in the hospital.
I said, “So do you think you’re Cleopatra’s servant in this world or Antonius’?”
“I’m not saying I believe this stuff,” he acted embarrassed that he’d mentioned it. “Just . . . What happens when a shabti’s duties are fulfilled in this world?”
“No idea.”
“Well, what if I vanish into thin air and return to the Island of the Two Flames to continue being a servant in the afterlife?”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, so why worry?”
He shoved the medallion back inside his shirt, and we both got into the Jeep. Dust boiled up behind us as we headed to the airport in Port Said.
Roberto rode with one elbow hanging out the window while he watched the passing desert.
Seven hours later, the glow of Port Said rose into the vast bowl of Egyptian stars.
“Hal? Tell me the truth. What was that in the temple? You saw it, too. I know you did. We haven’t talked about it, but—”
“’Course, I saw it.”
“What was it?”
Matter-of-factly, I answered, “Set, ancient god of war, brother of Isis.”
Roberto slouched in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “It was kind of like he was protecting us. I mean, that’s what it looked like to me.”
I didn’t answer. Didn’t know what to say.
Roberto made an airy gesture with his hand. “Do you think he wanted to help us free Cleopatra and Antonius from this world? Is that why he killed our enemies? Did he talk to you?”
“Didn’t say a word to me. But he was definitely protecting us.”
For the next thirty minutes, Roberto drummed his fingers on his arms and shifted in his seat.
Finally, he said, “What do you plan to do for the rest of the summer?”
“Don’t know. You?”
“Probably spend a month hiding under my covers, while I wallow in a sea of shallow thoughts.”
“Let me know if you need toilet paper.”
“Okay.”
The one thing I did not want to do—could not do—was go back to my old life. I’d gazed into the sunlit afterlife with my own eyes. I knew, someday, I would step onto the Island of the Two Flames alive, as Samael had done, and find Cleo waiting for me. The longing to be there, with her, was a constant ache inside me. I just had to find an Egyptian magician to teach me how to cross over.
We pulled into the stream of airport traffic, parked the Jeep in the lot, and turned in the keys.
As we grabbed our backpacks from the rear, and headed for the door, Roberto heaved a breath. “Homeward bound, dude.”
“Guess so.”
After we’d checked in, we stopped to buy canned soft drinks and swerved through the crowds to find our gate.
“Can’t be.” Roberto craned his neck to look at something. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who?”
When a gap opened in the crush of people, I saw Moriarity sitting at our gate, reading something on his phone. His fedora was shoved back on his head.
Moriarity jumped when Roberto dumped his backpack onto the floor two feet away. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you boys coming.”
Roberto took the chair to Moriarity’s left, and I took the chair to his right. Most of the seats at our gate were still open, but it was a couple hours until our flight.
I said, “What are you doing here?”
Moriarity rearranged his glasses. “Just thought I’d see you off. My flight is actually leaving from another gate in four hours.”
“Nice,” Roberto said. “Thanks. Bye.”
“Now, wait a second. I have a proposition for you.”
Neither of us asked what it was.
Moriarity continued, “Listen, I know you found it. You found the way to the Island of the Two Flames, didn’t you? Did you go there?”
Popping the top on my can of Coke, I let the question hang in the air for ten seconds, before I replied, “No.”
Moriarity leaned toward me to whisper, “Come on, Hal. Tell me. How’d you get there? What was it like?”
I watched people passing by.
Moriarity said, “Okay, never mind. Forget I asked. The reason I’m here is because I have an excavation starting in the legendary temple city of Karnak in a month, and I need crew members who aren’t afraid of visiting the land of the dead.”
Roberto and I exchanged glances.
Roberto said, “You know we almost died on your last excavation, right?”
“Adversity builds character, and you are sorely in need of that, Robert. Besides, I think Hal wants to walk the halls of the dead as much as I do. That’s what Karnak is all about. It’s filled with secrets and hidden tunnels to other worlds.”
Moriarity must have seen the gleam in my eyes. A knowing smile came to his lips. The professor slapped me on the shoulder. “Gotta go. I’ll need your answer within the week.”
He rose and walked away through the jostling crowd.
When he’d vanished, I moved into his chair.
Roberto gave me a bland look. “He’s plotting to murder you after you show him how to find the Island of the Two Flames. You know that, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” I took a long drink of my Coke and thought about it for a couple of seconds, before I said, “I’m in. You?”
“Absolutely.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathleen O'Neal Gear is a nationally award-winning archaeologist who has been honored by the United States Congress. She is also a New York Times bestselling author with 48 books and over 200 non-fiction articles in print.
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Cries from the Lost Island Page 32