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blood seeping through their fingers. Then Tutmose, who had been skulking behind the crew, stepped forward and stood next to Hopi.
    ‘The boy is right!’ he said. ‘See how the gods have come among us. The fighting must stop!’ He turned to the rowers and raised his arms in the air. ‘Return to your barge!’ he ordered them. ‘I told you that this is neither the time nor the place. Now you see that the gods agree with me!’
    Senmut, their leader, gazed at Hopi. ‘We can fight a crew of men,’ he said, with awe in his voice, ‘but we cannot fight the gods.’
    Hopi was still holding the snake up high. Now, he lowered it slowly, and realised that he was shaking. He looked at the snake, with its cold yellow eyes, and silently thanked it. The man who had started the fighting stepped forward. He had a wound on his upper arm, from which blood was trickling, but he didn’t seem to feel it.
    ‘We shall go,’ he said gruffly. ‘But you must know the truth, Tutmose. This matter cannot rest.’
    ‘I know,’ said Tutmose. ‘Believe me, I know.’
    The man turned and started walking back towards the tug. ‘And if that motley crew of yours think they’ll get a fortune in Djeba, they are even more foolish than they look!’ he shouted over his shoulder.
    .
    The sun on the yellow rocks was blinding.
    ‘It’s hot,’ croaked Hat-Neb. ‘So hot. I can’t bear it . . . can’t bear it.’
    Isis was worried. Hat-Neb really seemed to be suffering. Yes, it was hot – but it was always hot in the afternoon.
    ‘It’s a pity we didn’t bring any water,’ said Sheri. ‘But I suppose we had to leave in too much of a hurry for that.’ She stepped forward and wiped Hat-Neb’s brow with the loose end of her gown.
    Nebo was still gazing out towards the river. The shouting had stopped. There was just the baking heat of the desert, and Hat-Neb’s gasps and groans. Isis wondered if Hopi had seen what had happened. She desperately hoped he was safe.
    At last, Nebo moved. ‘We go,’ he said.
    But Isis wasn’t sure that Hat-Neb could move. He seemed to have half-melted, half-slumped into the rock. Bravely, she took his arm.
    ‘It’s not far,’ she whispered.
    She felt the weight of him as Hat-Neb struggled upright, and smelt the pungent odour of his sweat. Yet his skin was strangely cold and clammy for someone so hot. Nebo took his arm on the other side, and the group set out. Hat-Neb walked with his eyes almost closed, leaning heavily on his fan-bearer’s arm.
    He is sick , thought Isis, but he’s too proud to admit to it. He needs a doctor.
    Everything seemed upside down. Tutmose the doctor had gone off with the crew, while Nebo the fighter had stayed here with them. Shouldn’t it have been the other way round?
    .
    The rowers limped back to their tug boat, leaving a trail of blood behind them. None of them seemed mortally wounded, but all the same Hopi couldn’t help wondering how they would manage to row their boat away.
    He turned to Tutmose, and realised that the crew were rooted to the spot, staring at him. Of course: he was still holding the viper.
    ‘I’d better let it loose,’ he said.
    Tutmose shook his head vehemently. ‘I can’t allow that.’
    ‘But the men are afraid,’ said Hopi.
    ‘Don’t you see?’ Tutmose raised his hand towards the sky. ‘This is no mere viper! As far as these men are concerned, the gods themselves came among us!’
    Hopi looked down at the snake. He had meant to show it to Tutmose, of course. But he had hoped they could keep it a secret. Now that the crew knew all about it, things were very different. Someone might be tempted to disturb it. It might strike. A bite from a horned viper might not kill a strong man, but it would make him very sick. Without Menna’s spells and potions close by, Hopi wasn’t sure he could offer treatment.
    ‘You must keep it,’ hissed Tutmose into his ear, ‘or the men will cease to believe that the gods have saved them.’
    Hopi looked at the