“When the time calls for it. Right now, the authorities are concentrating on Dahshur and getting things there back in order. But should we find anything of interest in our excavation, they’ll be watching out for us.”
Excitement buzzed in Leila’s chest. She leaned forward, her arms on the desk. “Well, it would be a monumental discovery if it is Neferkheri’s tomb. Not much is known about her.” She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. They would be lucky enough to find an unsealed tomb of any sort. But to find an intact tomb of a queen? Unable to resist the urge to move her restless limbs, she got to her feet and began to pace around the study, examining the overstuffed bookcases as her mind raced through all the possibilities of making such a historical find.
“Let’s hope we can change that.”
“But what makes you think it’s Neferkheri’s tomb?” She paused in front of a picture frame sitting at eye level on the shelf. In the picture, three men held their arms over each other’s shoulders. She was about to move on when it clicked—she knew two of the faces. One was a young Soliman, and next to him stood her father, unmistakable with his unkempt blond hair and relaxed smile. Her father’s face was fresh, his eyes free of worries. She’d never seen the picture before. Something tugged in her chest, and she picked up the frame.
“Well, you know, Landon—I mean, your father, is to thank. And with that, I must admit I do have a bit of an ulterior motive, as it were.”
Leila’s head shot up and she squinted at Soliman, curious. “Ulterior motive?”
“You see, it was the day of the car accident,” Soliman said pensively and glanced over at her. His eyebrows knitted together in an expression of sympathy.
Leila dipped her head, indicating it was okay to talk about.
Soliman cleared his throat and continued, “On that day, Landon involved me in translating a papyrus. Where he had gotten this document, I don’t know. However, it was remarkably preserved from the Twelfth Dynasty, making it over three thousand years old. I’d love to know how he came across it. Or where it disappeared to. You wouldn’t happen to know anything of this, would you?” He raised his eyebrows at her.
So that’s what he means by an ulterior motive. But she had never heard this story of a disappearing papyrus before. Her father had never mentioned it. She would have only been sixteen at the time. He didn’t always tell her everything about his research and excavations, and at the time she was distracted by other things.
Stupid things.
She held the picture frame, though her gaze focused on the floor. Was Soliman being honest? Was she truly here because he recognized her work ethic? Or was it all about the papyrus and his search for Neferkheri? But if Soliman was desperate to find the papyrus, he would have asked her about it sooner. He was just asking her now out of curiosity.
Realizing she was taking too long to answer, she shook her head. “I had no idea about the papyrus.”
“That is a shame.” Soliman pursed his lips and tapped a pen to his chin. “You see, this papyrus had mentioned Queen Neferkheri and her final resting place. After a few more years of research and searching, I finally found another clue in a tomb in Saqqara.”
Leila’s eyes widened and set the frame back on the shelf. “Really?”
“Oh, first let me tell you about that picture.” Soliman rose from his seat and maneuvered around a pile of magazines then retrieved the picture frame from the shelf. “This was taken about thirty-five years ago. It was during an excavation of a Viking burial when we were both studying in Oxford,” he recalled, his words soft. “The other man was a mutual friend of ours, but you wouldn’t know him,” he added with a dismissive wave of his hand. “In any case, feel free to keep it.”
She took the frame and gazed down at the picture with a smile. “I’m sure he would have loved to be here.”
“There is no doubt about that. And you know what? I think he is.” Soliman winked.
Leila smiled. She could easily imagine how excited her father would be at a dig like this. He would have been up all night, every night, for months doing research in preparation. She swallowed down the lump forming in her throat.
“Thank you.”
Soliman smiled, tight-lipped, and patted her once on the shoulder. Then they made their way from the building with Leila staring at the picture as they walked. They paused outside, and Soliman locked up once more. Tearing her eyes away from the photograph, she slipped it into her bag then remembered they weren’t quite finished with their conversation.
“You said that the papyrus led you to a tomb here in Saqqara. What did you find in it?” Leila asked as they started down the sidewalk toward the dig house. Aromas of bread and spices drifted into her nostrils as they passed a kiosk selling falafel and sandwiches, reminding her it had been hours since the last time she ate.
Soliman stuck his hands in his pockets, keys jingling. “You remember that the papyrus spoke of Queen Neferkheri and her burial place, which has yet to be found. From what I could easily translate at a glance, the papyrus mentioned her younger brother, the famous Rahotep, as well.
“However, there was a cartouche on this papyrus that I didn’t recognize. I would have taken a closer look at it, but it never arrived at the British Museum. Since the papyrus was missing, I decided to explore her brother’s tomb at the Valley of the Kings. As I suspected, we found nothing, aside from evidence that someone, most likely looters, had recently had a similar idea.
“Rahotep’s tomb has always been empty, probably plundered shortly after his burial. However, we noticed the chamber had unquestionably been broken into in the recent months prior. Why would they break into a crypt they knew was empty? This gave me the suspicion that the papyrus had fallen into the hands of grave robbers and they were following a similar trail. I studied the tomb off and on for several years, thinking it had perhaps also been used as Neferkheri’s resting place, but I wasn’t able to find anything.”
Soliman paused, his gaze fixed in the distance as cars and scooters rushed down the street. They now stood outside the housing complex, a plain, tan-colored plaster building with single-pane windows one could break with a spit wad.
Leila was about to ask him what brought him to Saqqara when, as if reading her mind, he continued. “A year ago, I was asked to come and translate some hieroglyphics here in Saqqara. And that’s when I found it again, the same cartouche from the papyrus. Finally, I was able to translate it into the name Thutnekhbet.” Soliman’s eyes lit up. “He was Neferkheri’s older brother.”
“Could I see his tomb?” Leila squeaked, unable to keep the excitement from her voice, her heart fluttering. The fact that Neferkheri had another sibling was amazing news.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Soliman agreed and opened the glass door, shifting to the side to let Leila in first. “I am still waiting for clearance to excavate in the tomb, but it shouldn’t be a problem to have a peek. Masa’ al-khair.”
Leila returned the farewell, and once inside, they parted ways. Wearing a smile not even Xander could wipe off her face, Leila headed for the stairs, ready to tackle a few things from her to-do list. She stopped at the sound of Emma’s voice coming from the common area. And from where the distinct smell of cheese and bread drifted.
“Well, if you used a Mac, the quality would be much better.” Emma hovered behind Karl with her hands on her hips, a large frown etched into her face. Karl sat on a frayed ottoman with his laptop propped open. An open box of pizza sat on the battered coffee table, several slices already devoured. Leila’s stomach growled.
“Whatever. You and your Apple products,” Karl said through gritted teeth. “My laptop is as good as any MacBook.”
Leila slipped into the room and peered over Karl’s shoulder, curious to see what they were discussing. Karl tilted the screen back to show her the interactive map he had spent a few hours working on using photos Emma had taken throughout the day.
“Oh, it’s kind of like Street View,” Leila said.
“Exactly. Three-hundred-sixty-degree view. It’s all there,” Karl explained with a triumphant smile. “We can keep updating it as well. Then we can compare the before and after when we’re done.”
“Not bad at all.” Leila liked the idea. It was something Karl could even sell to a museum.
“But my photos. They’re so pixelated.” Emma buried her face in her hands.
“That doesn’t mean you took bad photos,” Karl cried, clearly losing his patience. “That is just how the program works. A higher quality would slow it down considerably. I had to reduce the quality for the program to run at a decent speed until I can put it on a more powerful server.”
“It hurts my eyes. I feel like I need to get my eyes checked again,” Emma muttered then trudged to the coffee table and helped herself to a slice of pizza.
“Quatsch,” Karl grumbled. “Whatever.”
