Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24 "This is all your fault," Dan said to Amy back in the Hotel Excelsior. "Don't you know by now that you can never, ever say that something is going to be easy?" Amy dropped her head in her hands. "I know." "Try chervil," Nellie suggested. She leaned over to feed Saladin another blob of hummus. They had ordered room service just for him to thank him for being such an awesome password. Dan sat hunched over his laptop. He'd found an online dictionary of botanical illustrations, but it proved harder than they'd expected to match a leaf to a species. And it didn't help that Nellie kept throwing out random herbs, as if she were making a stew. "How many entries are there?" Amy asked him.

"Sheesh, I don't know. Thousands." "And since we've been here, how many entries have you checked?" Dan looked down at the list he was compiling. "Thirty-seven. No! Thirty-eight. I forgot chervil." Amy groaned. "We've been here for twenty minutes. This could take all night." "And tomorrow," Nellie said. "Try tamarind!" Dan clicked away. "No," he said, disappointed. Amy sprang up. She paced in back of Dan. "That's an idea, though," she said. "I mean, here we are in Egypt. We should look up Egyptian plants. Katherine wouldn't lead all her descendants here for chervil, would she?" "Try acacia," Nellie suggested. "Or hummus, or baba ghanoush, or mint, or palm." Dan spun around in the desk chair, waving his arms. "My brain is on overload." "This place can do that to you," Nellie agreed. "We saw so much in a few days. Temples and tombs and ancient cities. Amazing sunsets, beautiful art—"

"Sure, but you're leaving out the coolest stuff," Dan said. "Crocodiles, pharaoh curses, brain hooks, body parts in canopic jars— what's not to like?" "I liked seeing those old photos of Grace," Amy said. "Remember the goofy one of her at Hatshepsut's Temple? Sometimes I forget how funny she was." "Pretzels and mustard," Dan said. "Remember? She used to say, Pay attention! Everything counts!" Dan appreciated the little things, just like Grace, Amy thought. She remembered the day they'd first arrived at this suite. How he'd run around the rooms, calling out every object with delight, like he'd never seen it before. Pillows! Bible! Robes! Shampoo! "People say I look like Grace," Amy said. "But you're the one who's like her." Dan shrugged and turned back to the computer. Amy saw that the tips of his ears were glowing red, a sure sign that she'd pleased him. She could have said I'm sorry. She could have said You were

right. I wanted Grace's memory for myself. But she knew she'd said enough. "Everything counts," Amy murmured. She gazed at the image on Grace's card, the Magi arriving to bring gifts to the Christ child, looking way more fat and regal than any newborn Amy had ever seen. Suddenly, words and images became a mash-up in her head. Magi. Hatshepsut. Punt. Even back in the New Kingdom, a queen had to go Christmas shopping. As if in a trance, Amy slid open the bedside drawer. She took out the Bible Dan had found. She flipped rapidly through the pages to Matthew, chapter two, verse eleven. "Dan?" she asked in a voice that trembled a little. "Look up myrrh. M-y-r-r-h," she spelled out, coming to stand behind him. Nellie hurried over. Dan typed out the word in the search engine. The leaf flashed on screen.

MYRRH Pronunciation; murah Latin: Commiphora myrrha 5ee also "Sweet Cicely" myrrh "That's it!" Dan cried. "Now explain how you did that." "Don't forget the art. We thought it was her painting, but we figured out that Grace didn't leave that as a clue. We forgot to think about what she really meant." Amy held up the card. "She was talking about the card itself." "I still don't get it." "It all has to do with Hatshepsut." "Hatshepsut?" Nellie looked puzzled. "But she lived thousands of years before Christmas was around." "Hatshepsut went to the Land of Punt and came back with myrrh trees. Grace posed right in front of that relief. And she made that joke in the guidebook about how a queen has to go Christmas shopping? She was leading us back to this." Amy

held up the card. "The Magi. They brought—" "Gifts to the Christ child," Nellie said. Amy picked up the Bible. "Matthew, chapter two, verse eleven. Mat 2:11 is a notation, not the price of the mat around the drawing. Listen." Amy read the verse out loud. "'And when they had opened their treasures, they presented gifts to him; gold, frankincense, and myrrh.'" Dan nodded. "And Grace misspelled 'resonates.' Grace was an excellent speller— we should know. We played Scrabble with her every weekend for years. Myrrh is a resin! A half gram of myrrh. That's the clue!" Amy's eyes shone. "And Grace was with us all the way. She didn't abandon us, Dan. She'll help us when we need it. And it will be just like her, too. It won't be when we expect it. It'll be when we least expect it. She hasn't gone away. She's still with us." Dan turned away from her. But Amy knew it was because his eyes had filled. Her eyes were full of tears, too. She felt as though Grace's hand was on her shoulder, squeezing. Saying good work,