Read Online Heart of the Gods by Valerie Douglas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Valerie Douglas
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Americans.
Jumping in and out of air conditioning, he knew, only made it more difficult to adapt to the heat. Having grown up in this kind of environment, he was used to it. It seemed Raissa also had no difficulty with it.
John, on the other hand, was always clamoring for air conditioning.
With a nod to Ryan, Ky waited until the others were out of sight.
He looked for Raissa and was caught by the sight of her standing with her face tilted up to the sun, appearing as contented as a cat in a window, loose tendrils of her hair blowing in the breeze. Something tugged low and deep inside him. He couldn’t help smiling.
With an effort, he pulled his thoughts back from where they wandered.
“Raissa,” he called, quietly.
When he beckoned to her, she smiled and came to join him, meeting him at the gap where one of the fort’s small side gates would have been. He liked watching her walk, the graceful swing of her hips, her stride loose, open, as if she was used to walking long distances, and long for her height.
Following him curiously, she stayed silent until they reached the far side of the rise and saw what he’d hidden there.
Very few of the archaeologists roamed beyond the walls, there were scorpions and snakes and what they wanted was within the ancient walls, not outside of them.
Unlike Ky.
“I’m trusting you to keep this between us,” Ky said, looking at her.
She met his gaze evenly, a little puzzled, but nodded.
“Don’t touch anything,” he said, and pointed. “Sit there.”
Obediently, she sat, or rather, settled down on her heels, her hands on her knees, her blue eyes watching him curiously but intently. He had the impression she could kneel like that for hours.
“Ryan and I found this on our last dig out here,” Ky said. “Every site where people have been has a garbage dump called a midden, a place where they throw their trash. We knew there had to be one. Where there are people there is always trash, bones, offal, worn clothing or tools, and garbage. Most are away from living spaces but fairly close at hand, whether it’s the midden of a medieval castle, or as here, outside the walls of a fort. They wouldn’t use the main gate, having visitors pass your trash heap wouldn’t be very welcoming, so they were more likely to use one of the small side gates. They also wouldn’t want to dump their garbage too close as it would attract vermin and predators. Being human they also wouldn’t want to walk too far, so we began probing outward in a radius from the gate. We weren’t the only ones looking but we got lucky and found it.”
Luckily it had been on the other side of a small rise, where the wind had been especially helpful, scouring away much of the loose sand and making it much easier to find.
“You’re trusting me a great deal,” she said, eyeing him.
Pulling his sunglasses down a little so she could see his eyes, see the look in them, he met her gaze.
“I am.”
Carefully, with small fans to blow away the sand, tweezers to delicately pick through what he found and assorted other small tools, he began to probe through the mass of detritus that had been hidden beneath the sand.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Raissa asked, curiously, “if you don’t mind my asking?”
Ky didn’t know if he was ready to tell her the whole truth―he was taking a huge risk showing her this much―but he could tell her some of it. He wanted to trust her completely but he couldn’t quite take that last step, that final chance. He’d been searching for the Tomb or Tombs for too long, almost all of his life. It was too great a chance to take when he was so close to his goal.
“Clues to a myth,” he said finally with a quiet laugh, most of his attention on what he was doing. “Over the course of my studies I came across some references here and there to indicate that the tombs of the priests and priestesses of some of the earliest eras of Egypt were hidden out here somewhere. Just
Jumping in and out of air conditioning, he knew, only made it more difficult to adapt to the heat. Having grown up in this kind of environment, he was used to it. It seemed Raissa also had no difficulty with it.
John, on the other hand, was always clamoring for air conditioning.
With a nod to Ryan, Ky waited until the others were out of sight.
He looked for Raissa and was caught by the sight of her standing with her face tilted up to the sun, appearing as contented as a cat in a window, loose tendrils of her hair blowing in the breeze. Something tugged low and deep inside him. He couldn’t help smiling.
With an effort, he pulled his thoughts back from where they wandered.
“Raissa,” he called, quietly.
When he beckoned to her, she smiled and came to join him, meeting him at the gap where one of the fort’s small side gates would have been. He liked watching her walk, the graceful swing of her hips, her stride loose, open, as if she was used to walking long distances, and long for her height.
Following him curiously, she stayed silent until they reached the far side of the rise and saw what he’d hidden there.
Very few of the archaeologists roamed beyond the walls, there were scorpions and snakes and what they wanted was within the ancient walls, not outside of them.
Unlike Ky.
“I’m trusting you to keep this between us,” Ky said, looking at her.
She met his gaze evenly, a little puzzled, but nodded.
“Don’t touch anything,” he said, and pointed. “Sit there.”
Obediently, she sat, or rather, settled down on her heels, her hands on her knees, her blue eyes watching him curiously but intently. He had the impression she could kneel like that for hours.
“Ryan and I found this on our last dig out here,” Ky said. “Every site where people have been has a garbage dump called a midden, a place where they throw their trash. We knew there had to be one. Where there are people there is always trash, bones, offal, worn clothing or tools, and garbage. Most are away from living spaces but fairly close at hand, whether it’s the midden of a medieval castle, or as here, outside the walls of a fort. They wouldn’t use the main gate, having visitors pass your trash heap wouldn’t be very welcoming, so they were more likely to use one of the small side gates. They also wouldn’t want to dump their garbage too close as it would attract vermin and predators. Being human they also wouldn’t want to walk too far, so we began probing outward in a radius from the gate. We weren’t the only ones looking but we got lucky and found it.”
Luckily it had been on the other side of a small rise, where the wind had been especially helpful, scouring away much of the loose sand and making it much easier to find.
“You’re trusting me a great deal,” she said, eyeing him.
Pulling his sunglasses down a little so she could see his eyes, see the look in them, he met her gaze.
“I am.”
Carefully, with small fans to blow away the sand, tweezers to delicately pick through what he found and assorted other small tools, he began to probe through the mass of detritus that had been hidden beneath the sand.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Raissa asked, curiously, “if you don’t mind my asking?”
Ky didn’t know if he was ready to tell her the whole truth―he was taking a huge risk showing her this much―but he could tell her some of it. He wanted to trust her completely but he couldn’t quite take that last step, that final chance. He’d been searching for the Tomb or Tombs for too long, almost all of his life. It was too great a chance to take when he was so close to his goal.
“Clues to a myth,” he said finally with a quiet laugh, most of his attention on what he was doing. “Over the course of my studies I came across some references here and there to indicate that the tombs of the priests and priestesses of some of the earliest eras of Egypt were hidden out here somewhere. Just
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