Heart of Light (18 page)

What else could he do to keep the ruby in Africa? And keep at bay the horrors of Shenta's story? Horrors too familiar wherever the might of European magic so outstripped African magic that it left the sons of Africa defenseless.

LADY IN DISTRESS

In the cold light of morning, Emily Oldhall looked at
both men in her room. She wondered whom to trust, or, indeed, why she should trust either of them.

She wondered if Peter was truly just another barrier between them. A barrier her husband used to separate them. Yet she couldn't imagine why he wanted to stay away from her.

Nigel looked bedraggled and tired, his eyes circled in dark, his skin too pale. A restless, sleepless night showed in his slow movements and in the way his shoulders slumped. He had entered her room almost stealthily, and stood by the door as if afraid of coming any farther. He hadn't even looked Emily in the eye yet. She would have felt sorry for him, except that Nigel had told her he'd been ordered to bring her to this dangerous place on a honeymoon. And he'd obeyed. What kind of man would obey such an order? What kind of man would lie to the woman he loved? Unless, of course, he didn't love her.

Farewell, on the other hand, had knocked perfunctorily upon her door and upon being told to come in, had sauntered in confidently. He now stood in the middle of the room, holding a lit cigarette between his long fingers.

“So, Mrs. Oldhall,” he said. “Are you ready to consult the compass stone?”

Emily understood from what had passed the night before that Peter Farewell had been sent to Africa as their guardian angel, or their shadow.

He should look rested and contented in pursuit of his business. He was also the only balm to Emily's abraded feelings. Knowing that Nigel didn't have the full confidence of his superiors made Emily feel somewhat less slighted—but more scared. For if no one was trusted and no one was fully in control of this mission, then who was responsible for it? And who could reliably save them from disaster?

“Will there not be a danger in consulting the stone?” Emily asked. Her hand touched the spot on her arm that showed the mark of the Hyena Men. “You told us that if we performed magic—”

“All of this will bring danger,” Farewell said. “But I think they will not expect us to do magic again so shortly after what happened.”

“What are you saying?” Nigel asked, impatient and jumpy. “That we are trusting our daring to protect us?”

Peter smiled at Nigel. “Sometimes daring is the only thing that can protect anyone.”

“But Emily—” Nigel said. Farewell gave Nigel an amused look, then shrugged.

Emily still felt enough loyalty toward her husband to interrupt. “I do not know how to consult the stone.”

She didn't know what Nigel had been about to say nor how thoroughly Farewell might mock him. But what good was it for Nigel to speak as though he was afraid for Emily's safety, when he'd brought her into this without consulting her?

“I know I held it before and that it showed an arrow indicating we should go south and west,” she said. “Is that all I have to do now?”

Farewell tilted his head as though considering her question.

“You could do that,” he said at last. “However, then we'll have to consult the stone frequently, to make sure our route hasn't deviated. I think there is a better way. You must understand that I am by no means sure about how to operate this particular compass stone. It was activated at the same time that the rubies were made sacred, and that was a long time ago. Magic has shifted and changed and practices of incantation have improved, or at least varied. But I've read in accounts of adventures using a compass stone that if you have a map and concentrate on allowing the compass stone into your mind, it will indicate a more clear direction upon your map. At least you'll be able to see it upon the map and often know ahead of time the journey for the next two or three days.”

“I've read the same,” Nigel said, stepping forward.

“Will it not show the path all the way to the objective?” Emily asked.

“It might,” Farewell said. He stubbed out his cigarette and lit a new one, cupping his hands protectively around the flame. “If it was only a couple hundred miles away, it assuredly would. It might even show us a thousand-mile path. But I doubt we'll be that lucky to have our prize so close. If it was that near civilization, surely someone would already have stumbled upon it by accident.”

Emily looked toward the window. Outside, a stripe of red cut across the sky in the east. Voices sounded, calling the faithful to prayer. A routine day was beginning for the inhabitants of Cairo.

“If we're going to do it,” she said, “we should do it now. Have you a map?”

“I do,” Nigel said, and hurried out of the room to his own, returning moments later with a map that he spread on the table. Emily got the compass stone, which she'd kept under her pillow throughout the night. She unwrapped it and set it atop the map.

“Just open your mind to the stone,” Peter said.

Emily tried. She felt the spell greeting her, like a child reaching for his mother. Then images enveloped her—a rush of them. Canals and white villages isolated amid a seemingly endless desert. Palm trees swaying in the wind and overarching a narrow canal. Then a large city—as large as Cairo.

At its center, she saw a vast palace, upon which flew a foreign flag and the Union Jack. And the entrance to the palace was guarded by an Englishman and a native guard.

Then the images vanished, leaving her exhausted and confused.

“Where are we to go, Mrs. Oldhall?” Peter Farewell asked.

She thought she didn't know, but even as she thought it, her hand shot forward and landed on a point on the map.

“Khartoum,” Farewell said.

Emily looked at the point on the map, separated from Egypt by an immense desert. Visions of arduous, slow progress, of camel caravans moving from oasis to oasis rose before her. “How are we to get there?” she asked.

Farewell bent over the map. “We could take the train to Port Said, and the Suez Canal to Suakin. But then we'd still have to make our way inland to Khartoum via train or flying carpet. I'm not informed of any such convenience linking the two cities, nor am I sure there is a railroad between those two—”

“Emily,” Nigel cut in.

It didn't surprise her. Without looking at her husband, she'd been sensing his mounting anxiety. “Emily, I beg you to reconsider.”

“Reconsider?” she asked, as if the word were unknown to her.

“We . . . uh . . .” Nigel took a deep breath. “Er, look here, Emily, can we not convince you to go back to England? It is not safe for you here. I'll come back to you when, er, when all is done.”

Outside, the cries of fish and fruit vendors formed a weird harmony of voices.

Emily looked up at her husband's anguished expression. Now he worried about her safety? After he dragged her to Africa and exposed her to danger? After she'd been touched by the Hyena Men and branded by them?

“If I went back to England,” Emily said, “what would I go back as? Where would I live?”

“What do you mean what would you go back as?” Nigel asked. He looked agitated, and a high color climbed like a tide from his collarbone to his cheeks. “You'd go back as my wife, of course! And you'll stay with my parents till I return.”

Emily could not understand why Nigel was acting so obtuse. In their long conversations during their courting, she'd never suspected him of being either slow or stupid. “And how will you ever accomplish your aim, Mr. Oldhall? The stone is spelled to me.”

“I'm hoping that . . . Perhaps the ruby is in Khartoum,” Nigel said.

“That's not very likely,” Emily said at the same time as Farewell scoffed.

As Nigel turned a betrayed look toward him, Farewell said, “Pshaw, Nigel. You know better than that. Something of that magical magnitude hidden in an area that has been under British control for some time? Why do you think that could happen? Would not Chinese Gordon, not a mean magician himself, have sensed its presence?”

Nigel looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps,” he said. “And perhaps not. Such a thing must perforce be very well disguised, wherever it is.”

“Well, then,” Emily said, even as she felt for the shield with her mage-sense and found it there, reassuring and deadening, like a blanket. “Well, then, Mr. Oldhall, it must be very well disguised. How do you expect to ever find the jewel when the compass stone is attuned to me? How will you find it if you have no maps, no compass? How will you return to me when you are also branded by the Hyena Men and you have no hope of reaching your objective? And what happens to me if you do not return? I will be in your parents' home, an unwanted daughter-in-law, all sympathy for me fading as the hopes that I might be carrying your child die. Your parents will be left alone, without either of their sons, and with me to burden them. And, since I'll not be able to tell them why I've returned, they'll think I committed some great crime, some enormous offense against propriety that caused you to discard me during our honeymoon, and caused you to go into Africa to forget your grief.”

“Well . . .” Nigel said. “I'll write a letter to my parents, explaining that I've gone in search of Carew. They cannot blame you for that in any way. Please, Emily, consider it. I don't wish you to risk your life this way.”

“It is too late now to think of that, Mr. Oldhall,” Emily said. She turned toward Farewell, who smoked his cigarette as he studied the map.

“Now, you were saying the sea route might not be the best?”

Farewell nodded without looking up. He frowned at the map. “I believe it would be best, from my experience and reasoning, if we took the train from Cairo to Port Said. I believe it runs daily. But the choice is yours. I believe the sea route more perilous. However, if we go on river boats, the trip will be quicker and there's a good chance we can, by happenstance, get a flying carpet headed inland. “I hear that missionaries often take that route in their efforts. Perhaps we can convince them to give us a lift. Carpets usually have some sort of sleeping accommodations.” He looked up at Emily, visibly worried. “If, on the other hand, you choose the train, you should be aware that there are no sleeping compartments and I'm not sure there are berths of any sort. I believe we'd have to sleep in our seats. And the locals call it the Shake and Rattle, so it's not the smoothest of rides. It is, however, the shortest, most direct route to Port Said, and from there the canal boat will take us to Khartoum.”

“Peter,” Nigel said. “I'm still not sure about the wisdom of taking Emily on a public train. I'm sure neither her parents nor mine would approve of her being tossed together with strangers.”

Emily frowned. Why was Nigel talking to Farewell and not to her? If he worried about her reputation, why discuss it with Farewell, who was neither her relative, her husband nor her guardian?

“I do not think my parents or yours would approve of my being put into harm's way, either,” Emily said, surprising herself with her sharp words, her bitter voice. “But it cannot be helped.”

Peter Farewell looked up at her as she spoke. She did not know if his gaze showed admiration or shock. Whatever it was, it caught him with his mouth half-open, about to speak.

When he recovered, he closed his mouth and coughed discreetly. “Mrs. Oldhall has a point, Nigel,” he said.

“And besides,” Emily put in, “it is the very unlikelihood of taking a lady on a train that makes such a mode of travel safe from the scrutiny of the Hyena Men.”

“But . . .” Nigel looked at Emily and his gaze conveyed greater distress than Emily had ever seen other than on their wedding night. “Emily, please. Would you not consider returning to England? Are you sure you wish to risk your life in this way?”

“Quite sure. I would not doom our mission and yourself to failure in such a way. I hope I'm a better wife than that.”

Although she wasn't even sure if she wanted to be a good wife anymore. Her softer feelings for Nigel had been replaced with frustration and anger. Did she still love him? She did not know. Had she ever loved this man who would not consummate their marriage, this man who had dragged her to Africa to complete his brother's mission?