Read Online Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 03 - Cairo Caper by Barbara Silkstone - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Silkstone
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the stone. If you knew no better back in 30AD, this must have been a real rocking place. I closed my tired eyes and conjured a vision of a night out at the theatre thousands of years ago with primped ladies and handsome heroes.
“Hellooo! Hellooo!”
“Shit!” I opened my eyes.
Fiona stood on the stage testing the acoustics in a falsetto yowl.
I flagged her to shut up. She waved back and called my name. “Wendy Darlin! Hellooo!”
Racing down the steps with Horus’s cage clonking against my leg, I stumbled to the stone platform just in time to see Roger standing on the upper lip of the amphitheater holding bottles of water and wearing a look of horror.
The force of the whap of my hand on Fiona’s mouth sent us both falling backward. She recovered quicker than I. With the weight on my left foot I tried to bring my right into action. The angle and pitch of the insole made it next to impossible to hold my foot level. I fell on my butt. Ouch!
“Take the bird,” I said to Fiona. I rolled onto my hands and knees and pushed myself to a standing position.
Red-faced, I hobbled after Fiona up the ancient marble stairs to our fearless leader who was standing on the upper rim glaring down at us.
Hands on hips and wearing his most angry face, Roger rumble-mumbled, “Nice job of keeping a low profile.” He yanked Horus’s cage from Fiona sending the bird tumbling against the bars with a loud squawk. Roger placed the cage on a step and sat next to it.
What could I say? I was responsible for Fiona being with us and she pulled a dumb stunt like that. I lowered my tender hind end carefully and sat next to Roger. My new appendage sat next to me.
Roger passed sealed water bottles to Fiona and me and slipped a fourth bottle into his jacket pocket. “Ten bucks a bottle and worth every penny.”
I stopped to free my numb arm from Fiona’s death grip and massage my left calf. Without a heel on that shoe I was developing painful cramps and an attitude from hell. The cat was back, nuzzling my ankles.
“I’ve had the weirdest feeling like a cat’s been rubbing against my legs. I can feel her fur but when I look there’s nothing there.”
“It’s just dry skin,” Roger snarked.
“I know the difference between dry skin and cat fur.” I was not in a tease-receptive mood.
Roger trickled a few drops of water on Horus. The falcon threw his head back, and let the droplets run over his beak, and bead on his feathers. We sat for all of ten minutes then it was time to move on.
It was well after lunchtime and Horus was beginning to look tasty. The horizon spun up like a kaleidoscope slicing into my dehydration-induced headache. My eyelids stuck to my Lasik-vision eyeballs, so much for the protection of designer sunglasses.
We approached Pompey’s Pillar. I stopped to gawk at one of two pink granite sphinxes that sat on either side of the approach to the Pillar. Each was about the size of an SUV and mounted on a large rectangular base. The facial details were almost pristine, unlike the Great Sphinx of Giza, which was much older and exposed to the desert. These beauties were worth stopping for.
“Don’t dally!” Roger said.
I repositioned my purse and followed him through the sand-covered open ground. We plopped down near the base of the Pillar.
A lone figure ambled toward us. It looked like Petri strolling in a swirl of dust. He had some nerve taking his time when we were dying. Okay… maybe not dying but pretty damn miserable.
Chapter Thirteen
Was it Petri or a mirage? The low-plains drifter held a frosty glass of Coke in his hand. I shook my head. When I focused again I was looking at a wizened Egyptian dressed in colorful street robes. His hands were empty except for a tattered sack.
The stranger approached Fiona as if he recognized her.
Roger and I shared a cautious look. Fiona reached out to grab me, did a quick sidestep, and hid behind my back. Her quaking frame sent my body into a rumba as she pressed
“Hellooo! Hellooo!”
“Shit!” I opened my eyes.
Fiona stood on the stage testing the acoustics in a falsetto yowl.
I flagged her to shut up. She waved back and called my name. “Wendy Darlin! Hellooo!”
Racing down the steps with Horus’s cage clonking against my leg, I stumbled to the stone platform just in time to see Roger standing on the upper lip of the amphitheater holding bottles of water and wearing a look of horror.
The force of the whap of my hand on Fiona’s mouth sent us both falling backward. She recovered quicker than I. With the weight on my left foot I tried to bring my right into action. The angle and pitch of the insole made it next to impossible to hold my foot level. I fell on my butt. Ouch!
“Take the bird,” I said to Fiona. I rolled onto my hands and knees and pushed myself to a standing position.
Red-faced, I hobbled after Fiona up the ancient marble stairs to our fearless leader who was standing on the upper rim glaring down at us.
Hands on hips and wearing his most angry face, Roger rumble-mumbled, “Nice job of keeping a low profile.” He yanked Horus’s cage from Fiona sending the bird tumbling against the bars with a loud squawk. Roger placed the cage on a step and sat next to it.
What could I say? I was responsible for Fiona being with us and she pulled a dumb stunt like that. I lowered my tender hind end carefully and sat next to Roger. My new appendage sat next to me.
Roger passed sealed water bottles to Fiona and me and slipped a fourth bottle into his jacket pocket. “Ten bucks a bottle and worth every penny.”
I stopped to free my numb arm from Fiona’s death grip and massage my left calf. Without a heel on that shoe I was developing painful cramps and an attitude from hell. The cat was back, nuzzling my ankles.
“I’ve had the weirdest feeling like a cat’s been rubbing against my legs. I can feel her fur but when I look there’s nothing there.”
“It’s just dry skin,” Roger snarked.
“I know the difference between dry skin and cat fur.” I was not in a tease-receptive mood.
Roger trickled a few drops of water on Horus. The falcon threw his head back, and let the droplets run over his beak, and bead on his feathers. We sat for all of ten minutes then it was time to move on.
It was well after lunchtime and Horus was beginning to look tasty. The horizon spun up like a kaleidoscope slicing into my dehydration-induced headache. My eyelids stuck to my Lasik-vision eyeballs, so much for the protection of designer sunglasses.
We approached Pompey’s Pillar. I stopped to gawk at one of two pink granite sphinxes that sat on either side of the approach to the Pillar. Each was about the size of an SUV and mounted on a large rectangular base. The facial details were almost pristine, unlike the Great Sphinx of Giza, which was much older and exposed to the desert. These beauties were worth stopping for.
“Don’t dally!” Roger said.
I repositioned my purse and followed him through the sand-covered open ground. We plopped down near the base of the Pillar.
A lone figure ambled toward us. It looked like Petri strolling in a swirl of dust. He had some nerve taking his time when we were dying. Okay… maybe not dying but pretty damn miserable.
Chapter Thirteen
Was it Petri or a mirage? The low-plains drifter held a frosty glass of Coke in his hand. I shook my head. When I focused again I was looking at a wizened Egyptian dressed in colorful street robes. His hands were empty except for a tattered sack.
The stranger approached Fiona as if he recognized her.
Roger and I shared a cautious look. Fiona reached out to grab me, did a quick sidestep, and hid behind my back. Her quaking frame sent my body into a rumba as she pressed
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