That last message made Dallas pause.
No. This was too important. She had to follow her passion. She had a hunch, a solid, strong hunch that she knew where Cleopatra’s tomb was. And it was going to take longer than winter break month to figure it out. As Caldwell had said, finding the tomb would make history. It was as if everything she’d done up to this point in her life had led her right here to this moment, to this decision.
Then she got angry. If the university couldn’t understand and let her go because of it even though it would bring them prestige and glory, so be it.
It was a chance she’d have to take.
Five
Dallas didn’t stop clutching the arm rests until the plane had just reached cruising altitude. She’d never been afraid of flying before. She wasn’t sure what was up with her today.
She was certain the plane would crash and prevent her from being the one who discovered Cleopatra’s tomb.
And there was something slightly off about the other passengers on the plane. It might have been her imagination, but it seemed like every time she got up to use the airplane bathroom or stretch, all eyes were on her. She’d try to meet a glance and the person would instantly look away. Suspicious?
No. She was paranoid.
Admit it, Jones. You’re on edge.
It was true. It surprised her that having someone break into her home and office could feel like such a personal attack. She’d always read about people feeling “violated” by a burglary and she used to privately scoff at the idea.
Violated by someone you never saw who didn’t touch you?
But now she got it. She was freaked out by the thought of some man with a face she couldn’t see rummaging through her personal belongings. It was partly what spurned her flight out of Minneapolis so early.
So, yeah, she was a little paranoid. A little on edge. A little freaked out.
Her seatmate, thank God, was asleep from the minute she sat down. She was an older woman who pulled down over-sized black sunglasses, plugged in earbuds and promptly began to snore.
And luckily, the plane wasn’t full so there were a few empty seats between them.
Dallas tried to concentrate on an article she’d saved on her phone talking about a recent archeological discovery near Cairo.
Apparently, archeologists had given up on finding the mummies in a tomb they’d uncovered. It had been empty and they’d been stumped as to where the bodies and the treasures had gone. Then, during a random scraping of one of the walls, a layer of dirt had fallen and revealed several rectangles that indicated long shafts. When they pried open the shafts they found the bodies and the treasures.
About an hour into the flight, long done with her article and bored, Dallas peered around the plane at the other passengers. Not one single person was paying attention to her.
She sighed.
Yep. Paranoid.
She yawned and cast another glance at the woman in her aisle. Yeah. That was the ticket. Sleep. Dallas rummaged around in her bag for her own sunglasses and earbuds and put on a guided meditation about falling asleep before leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes.
The flight attendant telling passengers in several different languages to prepare for landing woke Dallas from a hazy dream involving snakes, hieroglyphics, and underwater caves.
Dallas was instantly wide awake. The woman a few seats away was carefully applying a bright red lipstick, pouting into a compact mirror.
Any feeling of paranoia or fear was gone. With her nose pressed to the airplane window a feeling of euphoria soared through Dallas. She was almost in Egypt. A dream come true.
As she looked down, at first, she only saw the vast expanse of the brilliant blue Mediterranean below. Then the land popped into view below. It was dotted with structures—skyscrapers—the tallest ones lining the Nile. Even thinking this made Dallas’s mouth drop open. The Nile. She was looking at The Nile.
Exhilaration filled her chest. She couldn’t get enough of the view.
At the outskirts of the developed area stood two massive pyramids and then a smaller one. Their massive size made clear by the white shining dots moving alongside—vehicles.
Dallas whispered their Egyptian names under her breath: the great pyramid of Khufu, the Khafre pyramid, and the smaller, Menkaure pyramid. The sphinx lay to the east and was more difficult to pick out, but Dallas felt an electric shock as she spotted it.
As the plane circled around to the other side of the Great Giza pyramids, their size became even more apparent and impressive when compared to the towering skyscrapers of the city below.
Although she was awed by the sheer size of the pyramids even from the air, Dallas was struck by the realization that much of the area surrounding the pyramid complex had not been fully excavated. To her, it was a symbol of what she was there for. To prepare for that journey, several boats were buried nearby.
Then they were on the ground, the sound of the wheels slowing screeching loudly.
Grabbing the large backpack that served as her carryon—and only luggage, Dallas exited the plane and followed the signs to ground transportation.
In the cab on the way to downtown, Dallas’s excitement faded slightly. The view outside—of trees and office buildings—could be that of any city in the world. There were a few funky, Lorax-looking trees that she couldn’t recognize, and a billboard or two with pictures of Arabic men she also didn’t recognize, but other than that, it didn’t feel very exotic. As they got closer to downtown, the street signs were definitely different.
She shook off her disappointment. She was in Cairo. Egypt.
About five minutes into the drive, Dallas’s eyes widened.
A white stone structure topped by cupolas was off to the right. Two skinny, gothic towers stretching up into the blue sky—minarets.
She’d seen her first mosque.
About time, she thought.
From what she’d read
