Valley of Decision Read Free Page B

shirt and favorite dungarees.
    â€œIt’s like old times seeing you two together.” Lisbeth kissed both of their cheeks. “But why have you switched clothes?”
    Her father handed Aisa a dough ball. “I thought I’d better dress appropriately for our journey into the third century.”
    â€œOh, no, you don’t. I let you come to Carthage, but I did not agree to let you go back in time. Plus, Maggie may still be in the twenty-first century.”
    â€œYou haven’t been able to get Nigel on the phone. If he’s not dead, then he took Maggie to the desert. And we both know he’s not dead.” Papa eyed Lisbeth as if he could see the ripple of gooseflesh raising the hair on her arms. “I’m current on all my shots.”
    â€œThat’s the least of my worries.”
    â€œWell, then. If things are as bad back there as you’ve always said, you’ll need my help. I can tell you right now, it’s going to take both of us to wrestle Maggie Hastings back down the rabbit hole.”
    â€œI don’t suppose your willingness to fling yourself into atime-altering waterslide has anything to do with finding my mother?”
    A sly smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I intend to bring my wife home along with the rest of my family.”
    How could she argue? Truth be known, she’d always wanted to do the same. Lisbeth held up her palms. “We’ll have to hire a jeep.”
    â€œI’ve checked with customs, and the borders into Egypt are closed to vehicular travel,” Papa said.
    Lisbeth studied the strange expression on her father’s face. “So as of right now, neither one of us has a way to get to that cave.”
    â€œThe bald Irishman is not the only one with a plane.” Aisa glowed like his sparkly new teeth at her shock. “Came with the estate.”
    After a quick meal of lamb and fried dough, they prepared for Lisbeth and Papa’s entrance into the past.
    What if she couldn’t find her daughter? What if she was too late? Losing Maggie forever would be her worst fear come true. Panic, sharper and more frantic than what she’d experienced on the plane, clawed Lisbeth’s insides as she checked her medical bag one more time.
    A familiar arm, long and sinewy, wrapped around her shoulders. “You okay, Beetle Bug?”
    Lisbeth leaned into Papa and forced air into her lungs. Oxygen cleared the panic from her thinking. She turned to Aisa. “I don’t suppose you could find a local doc who’d write some antibiotic scripts and set me up with twenty to thirty typhoid blister packs?”
    Aisa’s whole body seemed to smile. “Easier than frying bread.”

2
    Carthage
    I RON WRISTCUFFS PINCHED THE tender flesh above Magdalena’s rapid pulse. Blood dripped into her eyes from the beating the soldiers had given her before they’d dragged her from the proconsul’s palace. She knew choosing to stay behind had risks, but she could never have predicted what had happened. One moment she was a surgeon performing an emergency amputation. The next, she was a slave charged with the crime of murdering the ruler of Carthage and being hauled through town.
    Chains rattled behind her. Magdalena glanced over her shoulder. Iltani, her Mesopotamian friend who’d had her tongue removed by the proconsul’s bounty hunters after a failed escape attempt, raised her strong chin in silent protest. Following close behind was Tabari. The small, dark-skinned waif from the African desert tribes had become Iltani’s voice. Next was Kardide, oldest of Magdalena’s fellow slaves. The hook-nosed Turkish wench would swallow hot coals before she would admit she struggled to keep up on this forced march through the city. Magdalena choked back the lump in her throat. Their suffering was her fault. She was the one who’d put them in jeopardy by asking them to stand guard so her daughter could escape