It took a good fifteen minutes, but at last I worked my way through to someone at the cruise company who spoke English. “Hello. I’m confirming the arrival of Mrs. Papadopolous for the Duat River Cruise leaving tonight at eight p.m. Am I correct in the assumption that she’ll need to be to the ship an hour before sailing?”

“Yes, that is very correct,” answered a man in lyrical English. “Let me check the records. Papadopolous, you say? I do not have anyone by that name.”

Panic hit me. I hadn’t even thought about what I’d do if something was munged up with Mrs. P’s reservation. “Uh… are you sure? Her grandson told me he booked her reservation himself. Maybe you could look again?”

“Does Madame have another name? I do not see Papadopolous.”

Unreasonably, I felt the urge to burst into tears. We’d come such a long way and been through so much in the last twenty-four hours. “She doesn’t have another name, no.”

“I do,” Mrs. P said, looking up from the TV where she’d put on a channel of Middle Eastern music videos. “I am known by many names.”

“I doubt very much if your grandson would have booked you under your hoochie-coo dancer name,” I told her, my hand over the mouthpiece. “Did he book it under your maiden name or something?”

“I have never been married,” she said with a sniff, and turned up the music video. “My beau gives me much leeway in this world, but he wouldn’t allow me to bind myself to another.”

“What is your maiden name?” I asked, more than a little desperate now.

“My name when I was a maiden?” She smiled. Oddly, it made her faded eyes look brighter. “Aset.”

“Asset?” I asked, confusion now adding to my frustration. “Like something a company has?”

“No, Aset.” She spelled it for me, putting the stress on the first letter of the word. “It is my child-name.”

That sounded like a maiden name to me. “Would you have a reservation for a Mrs. Aset?” I asked, uncovering the mouthpiece.

“Madame Aset? But of course.” The man sounded so matter-of-fact it confused me even more. “We have the reservation for Madame Aset and companion in Grand Suite B. It is our finest accommodation, you understand.”

“Awesome. I’ll have her to the ship by seven… wait, did you say Mrs. Aset and companion? What companion?”

“We were not informed of the individual’s name. Our understanding was that information would be provided upon boarding. Is there anything else I can help with?”

“No, thank you, that will be all.” I hung up and looked at Mrs. P, who was now eying a woven cotton wall covering with a speculative eye. “Who is going on the cruise with you?”

She gave me a pitying look. “Has the prospect of lunch with your man caused you to lose your wits? You are my guide.”

“I’m not a guide,” I said, startled. “I’m a… well, helper is as good a description as anything. I’m just here to get you to your ship. I’m not going with you on it.”

Her eyes narrowed on me. “You must help me across the Duat to my beau. You agreed to do so. You cannot back out now—I can’t face the challenges by myself. I am a priestess of Heka, not Isis herself.”

I sighed, suddenly wishing like the dickens that I’d never answered the door to Jian’s cousin. What was his name?

“Mrs. P,” I said gently but firmly. “I realize that you have a really splendid imagination, and that you were absolutely right about Jian being a dragon, but just because you were right about that doesn’t mean that everything you think is real is actually so. You’re just a little confused. Duat is the name of the cruise line—it’s not a real place.”

She shook her head sadly at me.

“And Isis is… was… an Egyptian goddess. I think. I’m not very hip on Egyptian myths and lore. So while I agree that you are not Isis, I’m not sure where this idea came from that I’m your guide.”

A knock sounded at the door. I got up to answer it.

“You must guide me,” she insisted. “You are a dragon’s mate. Only your kind can defeat the challenges that will face us.”

“Hi,” I said to Rowan when he stepped into the room. I was sorry to see that he’d not only combed his hair but also shaved. So much for that tempting stubble. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m famished, and I think Mrs. P could use a little food in her stomach. I suspect her blood sugar is low and it’s making her a bit… scattered.”

He raised his eyebrows and took the chair I gestured at, while I went to fetch the room service menus. “The trip from Munich seemed fairly uneventful.”

“Oh, it was, and Mrs. P dozed most of the way, but now she’s insisting that I’m supposed to go on the cruise with her, and I’m having a hard time making her understand that I’m just a helper monkey, and not a tour guide. Now, Mrs. P, do you feel like something light or a more substantial meal? I’m sure there will be snackies on the boat when you get there, but since that’s a good four hours away, I’d suggest getting a full meal now. It looks like they have chicken thighs stuffed with rice and pine nuts, or a tenderloin with grilled veggies that you might like. And some lamb dishes, but I personally won’t eat a wee little baby lamb. Not that it matters to you, but still.”

“Tell the gel she must come with me,” Mrs. P demanded of Rowan. “I cannot make the trip alone. It is too dangerous. Too many people want my offering.”

Rowan looked startled.

I asked, “Your what now?”

“My offering.” She gestured toward her chest. “It is for my beau. Without it, we can’t be together. And I can’t give it to him without a guide taking me to him.”

“Mrs. P…” I sat silent for a moment, helpless against her fantasies. Clearly some sort of dementia was beginning to grip her, despite the fact that she’d been unusually prescient about my true origins. But this was just beyond me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“She can’t go with you,” Rowan said quickly, and gave a little embarrassed cough. “That is, I got the last available cabin. There won’t be any more available. And I would be more than happy to guide you.”