Free The Eleventh Plague by Darren Craske

I’ve been thinking—’
    ‘How very unlike you,’ interjected Destine.
    ‘…about how best to play this,’ Quaint continued. ‘I think it’s wisest if I venture out on my own this morning, just so I can test the water. It’s been years since I was last here, and things have no doubt changed. Egypt has a distinctly murky side to it, Madame. There are some places that I would prefer you did not have to see.’
    ‘I am no child, monsieur!’ Destine snapped, defensively. ‘Do not forget that I was brought up in the backstreets of Toulouse. I have seen things that would make your hair stand on end.’
    ‘This is a little different from bordellos and burlesques, Destine.’ Quaint leaned back in his chair, forcing the wooden frame to complain against its joists. ‘I’m sorry, but my mind is made up. It’s just too dangerous.’
    ‘And what am I supposed to do whilst you are out snooping – stay onboard ship and powder my nose?’ enquired Destine.
    ‘Not at all. I know this fantastic little place called Agra Bazaar a few miles from here. You can buy anything and everything there. I went there many years back when I first visited this country. You’ll adore it, Madame, I know you will…in fact, so much so that I’ve already arranged an escort to take you there,’ Quaint said, chancing a smile.
    Madame Destine rapped her fingernails on the table in annoyance. ‘If you did not wish to be saddled with my company on this trip, Cornelius, you should have told me before we left England!’
    ‘Destine, it’s not like that,’ insisted Quaint. ‘Let me put it this way…‘ He reached across the table and picked up the silver saltcellar next to a tray of conserves. Placing it in his hand, he enclosed his fingers around it, hiding it from sight. ‘I’m going to have to do a lot of stone-lifting today, and some of the things that crawl out might not be very friendly. If we got separated, you could turn down the wrong alley…and just disappear. ’
    He unfurled his fingers one by one, revealing a completely empty hand.
    The saltcellar had vanished into thin air.
    ‘ Très impressionnant , Cornelius,’ said Destine. ‘So if I am to be kept busy in this bazaar that you mention, what is going to keep you busy?’
    ‘I need information about the Hades Consortium’s operations in Egypt. How they operate, who their spies are and where they’re based,’ replied Quaint. ‘I thought that I might track down an old friend of mine.’
    ‘Are you sure that is wise? You have fallen foul of your “old friends” before remember,’ said Madame Destine, warily.
    ‘Alex’s father was an old college professor of mine before he moved out here many years ago. He’s the one who first ignited my interest in Egyptian history, the reason for my coming here back in the forties.’ Quaint loosened the tie at his neck. ‘Alex is a tailor, and you’d be amazed at what talk a tailor overhears. If there is a word to be heard about the Consortium, it will have reached her ears for sure.’
    Destine cocked her head to one side. ‘ Her ears? Alex is a woman?’
    ‘Oh, absolutely – of the kind it’s taken me a long time to forget,’ grinned Quaint. ‘Her brother Joran is due to meet us down on the dockside in about an hour. I’ll accompany you as far as Hosni where Alex’s store is located, and then take my leave.’
    ‘Well, just promise me you will be careful,’ Madame Destine said, as she collected her belongings from the seat next to her. ‘I know what you are like when—’
    She gasped, her hands leaping to her cheeks in shock.
    Underneath her hat was a silver saltcellar.
    She glanced across the table at Quaint – who was wearing the smuggest of smug grins. ‘ Mon Dieu , how on earth did you do that? I never even saw you move. You were in your seat the entire time!’
    ‘A magician never reveals his secrets, Madame,’ Quaint said with a wink. ‘The mechanics involved with making a saltcellar disappear are