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“Alex!” Jack said, placing his notebook on the edge of the tomb so he could wrap her in a hug. “Has it really been a fortnight already?”

Caught up in their own world, Alex wasn’t surprised her parents had lost track of time. “Almost three weeks, actually. I’ve been back at school for nearly a week now.”

“Wow, time sure does fly when you’re up to your elbows in mummified remains,” Rachel said, moving to embrace Alex as well. “You’re looking well, sweetheart. Very tanned.”

Enough with the tanning observations, Alex thought. She wasn’tthatmuch darker after her summery trip to the past.

“It looks good on you,” said Jack, wrapping an arm around her. “Like a golden sun goddess.”

Alex smiled at him. “Thanks, Dad.”

“I know it’s winter out there, but I’ve always said we catch more UV in the snow than we do in the sun,” Rachel said, dropping her brush and wiping her hands on her khakis. “We don’t think about applying sunscreen when it’s so cold, but it’s the first thing we reach for in the heat.” She hesitated. “Wait. Do they even have sunscreen in Medora?”

It was such a mother thing to ask, but Alex had no answer for her.

“I’m sure they do, Mum.” Alex quickly moved on before she had to invent otherworldly brand comparisons or SPF details on the fly. “I can’t stay long, but I’ve missed you both and wanted to check in and make sure you’re still okay down here.”

“Okay?” Jack repeated, incredulous laughter in his voice. “We’remorethan okay, honey.” He waved his free arm. “Every day we discover something new and fascinating. This place is brilliant.”

Rachel was nodding emphatically and pointed to the tomb in front of them. “See this sarcophagus? I estimate it to be over fivethousandyears old.”

Unlike her parents, Alex had no idea what the expected reaction to such news was. “Uh, cool?”

“Verycool,” Jack said. “As in, thecoolest.”

There was something greatly disturbing about his repeated use of such a youthful term.

“Your father is right,” Rachel said, still nodding so enthusiastically that Alex feared she would earn herself a neck injury. “As far as intact sarcophagi go, the oldest one discovered back on Earth was from the reign of Khufu—the second pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty who we credit as having commissioned the Great Pyramid of Giza. That means the mummified remains inside were around four-and-a-half thousand years old. But this”—she rapped her knuckles on the side of the tomb—“is even older, if you can believe it. You can tell because—”

“I say this with love,” Alex gently cut in, “but I’m not really in the headspace for an ancient history lesson right now.”Or ever. “I’m stoked you’ve found a long-dead pharaoh, priest, or whoever is inside, but do me a favour and don’t open Medora’s version of King Tut until you’re certain you’re not going to be cursed or anything.”

Alex was surprised when both her parents laughed.

“Oh, honey,” Jack said, using his arm around her shoulder to give her a squeeze. “You’ve watched too many movies.”

“That stuff happens,” Alex disagreed. “For real.”

“Don’t be so superstitious,” Rachel said with an indulgent smile. “We raised you better than that. And besides,” she waved a dismissive hand, “the Curse of the Pharaohs which acquired the most fame thanks to Tutankhamen has never held up against science.”

What her mother said was true, but still…

“Just don’t forget you’re in a new world here. I’ve seen my fair share of the impossible, and a curse isn’t too far a stretch of the imagination—even if it can be explained away as an ancient pathogen or microorganism. So please, just… be careful.”

“Of course we will be,” Rachel promised. “We wouldn’t want to contaminate the findings, anyway.”

Alex sighed internally, grateful that, if nothing else, their respect for science would keep them at a healthy distance. That, and she presumed—or at least,hoped—the Library wouldn’t provide them with something to study that would lead to some kind of flesh-eating disease.

“I’ll try to stay longer next visit,” Alex said, hugging first her father and then her mother again. “Please do me a favour and resist the urge to practise any mummification techniques on yourselves between now and then.”

Jack chuckled. “No promises.”

“There never are,” Alex accepted with reluctant humour.

“Before you go,” Jack said as she started to move away, “how’s your elf situation going? Anything we should know?”

Popular culture certainly had its hooks in her parents, since no matter how many times Alex tried to explain exactly what the Meyarins were, her mother and father still compared the immortal race toThe Lord of the Rings-inspired elves. And they claimedshewas the one who watched too many movies. Hardly.

“No, Dad,” Alex said, lying through her teeth. “Nothing you need to know.”