Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) by Susan Kiernan-Lewis

and moved her. But why just leave her in that case? She
rifled through her purse to find her cellphone and wallet. She hadn’t been robbed so had her Good Samaritan just moved her and then
left her? She got a sudden dark thought but within seconds definitely
rejected the possibility that she had been interfered with in any way.
    She moved slowly
to the end of the alley. She hadn’t seen a taxi go by yet and at this time of
night there should be plenty. She didn’t think the hotel looked very full. Surely,
she would have no trouble getting another room for the night.
                As
she reached the main street, Ella gasped and grabbed the wall again for
support. Instead of the modern cars of 2013 Cairo, she saw a disorganized traffic
of horse drawn carriages and Model T Fords. The street was filled with donkeys
and barefoot Egyptian men in turbans wearing full tunics and robes. There was
absolutely no comparison to this same street of the night before. Ella watched
the scene open-mouthed as a needle of dread and fear wormed its way up her
spine.
                Oh,
please God, no, she
thought . Don’t let this be happening.
                She
surveyed the scene in building horror, and then turned and ran back to the
alley. She reached the spot where she had lain and tried to backtrack to the place
where the split in the wall must be. She ran her hands along the wall, but
there was no opening. She stood with her hands flat against the wall while a
cold breeze blew through her thin blouse. The rain had stopped.
                She
turned and faced the street at the end of the alleyway once more and took a
long ragged breath. She couldn’t stay here. She must find help. As she walked
again, slowly and with trepidation toward the main promenade, she reminded
herself that there were cars so at least she wasn’t in the Middle Ages. Taking
heart from that thought, she picked up her pace. Perhaps the telephone had been invented?
                And
then the thought that made her stop and sink to her knees in despair hit her
like a punch to the stomach. Who would
she call? Rowan hadn’t been born yet. In all likelihood her father hadn’t been born yet.
                She
was all alone. Whenever she was. She
was on her own.
     

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    Cairo 1922
     
                Pulling
her wet blouse tighter against the chill, Ella forced herself to straighten up and
walk. Whether she would be able to get back or not, it didn’t appear the alley
was the way. Whether she would ever see Rowan again…She stopped and took a good
long breath. She needed to be stronger than that. Those sorts of thoughts were
not her friends right now. She would get back. She would see him again. Somehow.
                Coming
once more to the busy street, Ella watched the swirl of humanity—most of them
looking terribly impoverished—rush by and try to engulf her. She stepped
back to the alley and watched the dense crowd go by. Even in the evening, the
bazaar was in full swing. She touched her bag. She had Egyptian pound notes in
her wallet but she had no idea if they were valid currency for this time in
Egypt’s history.
                When was this? She fought down the panic
that those words caused and began to search the street for a car or something
that passed as a taxi. A young Egyptian man materialized in front of her
pulling a double-seated rickshaw.
                “ Efendim !” he called. “You ride? Fifty piaster to your hotel!”
                Thank you, God. She staggered out into
the street to the young man and allowed him to help her into the back of his
vehicle.
                “Shepheards?”
the young man asked brightly. Ella nodded. One hotel was as good as another.
Clearly, this man was taking her to where he thought she belonged. That was a
start.
                As
she rode, Ella was relieved to see what