Asp of Ascension (A Nefertari Hughes Mystery #1)

Chapter Ten

Terry's pants were practically dry by the time she stepped off the bus. It was a sunny afternoon, but the winter wind was raw, and it chilled her face. Devonshire had plenty of tree-lined streets, but the bare winter branches looked like claws to her. She tugged at the drawstring of her hoodie, tightening it around her neck.

Her phone buzzed. It was another text from Maude, the third in the last half hour. The first two had been about the Cleopatra beauty project, and this last one was about the upcoming basketball game.

Super. My house. Pre-game. CUPCAKES!!

Terry slipped her phone away without replying. There was too much to think about. She was still convinced her rules were essential to getting through this bout of high school, but she was secretly charmed at Maude's invitation. She hadn't had a friend close to her own age since Awad, and that felt like a hundred years ago.

Truthfully, a basketball semifinal was the last thing she wanted to take in, but Fraser had given Maude an assignment to cover the game, and if she did well he'd consider publishing her 'Zombie Versus Unicorn' piece. When he had made the offer, Maude had lit up like Christmas.

She'd then ensnared Terry into accompanying her. "You'll get to see Zach play," she added. "He may not be much for Egyptology, but he makes the whole school scream in unison."

"And that's important?" Terry had asked, her mind far away, picturing him in the library, frowning at the titles.

"Sure," Maude had affirmed. "I'm not cheerleader material, but it does sort of make you feel a little proud of the school." Terry finally agreed, and they'd parted ways.

She was only a few blocks from the museum now, and Terry's mind was full of Zach. It happened without her realizing, starting with the ease with which he'd grabbed the ball before it hit her, then the image in the library; the subtle tilt of his head, the way his fingers touched the edge of his eyebrow several times when he was concentrating.

He'd left her so briskly after that. But during lunch he had stopped by her table. Had he wanted to talk to her? Maybe apologize? What would he have done if his teammates hadn't been there to call him away? Did he know his girlfriend was a bit psycho? And what had he been doodling that first day? He'd become a frustrating enigma.

Terry nodded to the museum staff at the front counter as she shuffled by on her way to the elevator. A sticky note on the door of her dad's office told her he was on the fifth floor.

The Egypt room was full of activity. Construction workers were setting up lights, drilling holes in the floor or constructing platforms. The air was thick with dust. All of the permanent exhibits were covered in plastic. Terry looked up at the antique Cleopatra mannequin protected by several layers of cellophane sheets. It was creepy. She rubbed her arms, trying to calm down the sudden goose bumps.

Her dad was at the far end of the room, talking with someone in a hard hat. When he saw Terry, he waved her over. She self-consciously picked her way around the various extension cords zigzagging across the floor. Tripping in front of all these people would be the perfect end to her humiliating day.

She waited as her dad went over instructions about one of the exhibits. To her right, standing up against the wall and covered by more plastic, was a closed mummy case, the unnaturally bright gold and black paint chipped and peeling away. Terry peered closer. Like the Cleopatra model, this looked original to the museum and was only for show; the eyes on the face mask were hollowed out. Terry reached up and poked a finger toward one of the empty eye sockets.

"Terry!" her dad shouted over the noise of drills and hammers. "You got my message about the apartment?" he asked.

Yup, right after the school psycho decided to pour lunch on me, Terry thought. Instead she replied, "Yeah." That one word seemed to take all of her energy.

He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. "We'll pick up a few things to get us through the week," he said. Terry could hear the exhaustion in his voice. "I'm not worried about food, we'll eat at the hotel." He paused. "But we'll need socks and...stuff."

Terry looked down at her stained pants and worn hoodie. A shopping trip was desperately needed, but these days she couldn't care less. She and her mom had loved to spend hours in the crowded markets trying on brightly colored scarves and long, dangling earrings. Every place, no matter how remote or small, had Terry and her mom bartering with enthusiastic merchants.

"But I've got some exciting news to make up for the sudden move," her dad said. "It arrived today." There was a hint of a smile on his face. When Terry didn't respond he added, "The coffin." He motioned around the room. "That's why the frantic action. The new exhibit should be up within a few weeks."

Terry's eyes grew wide. "I thought you said they couldn't open it!"

"Opened or not," he explained, "the museum will have it on display by the end of April. The mayor insists on it."

"Can he do that?" Terry asked. She knew this museum had its own agenda for staying open, and boasting the premiere of a controversial find was apparently its priority. A dull ache began to pound behind her eyes. "What about the expert?" she asked. "I thought that's why the coffin was coming here? I thought that's why you brought us here." She concentrated on keeping her voice level, but it cracked at the end.

"Terry." Her dad said her name slowly, trying to be soothing.

She stared at the floor, fighting the tears. She didn't want her dad to see her cry. Terry turned quickly, her footfalls landing unevenly as she made her way to the entrance. She didn't know where to hide. The apartment was off-limits, and she had no idea what hotel her dad had booked. Terry felt hollow no matter where she went, she had no home. The tools stopped, and all the workers grew silent.

"What?" she said to a group of staff near the entrance. Her voice sounded dopey with exhaustion. "Haven't you ever seen a cripple before?" She limped toward the doorway, blinking back a gush of unwanted tears, then stopped dead in her tracks. A woman in a wheelchair blocked the entrance, staring darkly at Terry.

Her dad's voice came up behind her. "This is Dr. Mullaca," he said. "She's here to unlock the sarcophagus." The woman had olive skin and sharp features, her white hair pulled back in a severe bun. "Dr. Mullaca, this is my daughter, Terry," he said, finishing the introduction.

"I know who Nefertari is," she said. Her eyes trailed down Terry's side and stopped at her knee. "So," Dr. Mullaca said, with a hint of an accent, "you're the girl who survived."