Page 148
Story: Tomb of the Sun King
Zeinab joined him there, moving like a wisp of shadow.
Adam studied the opposite wall of the canyon. “Hundred and ninety feet’s gonna take you right… about… there.”
He pointed across the gap to a spot that looked like a bowl scooped out of the face of the ridge. The geological feature was framed on three sides by a crown of ragged stone and blocked from Julian’s dig site by a narrow outcrop.
“How can you be sure that is the spot?” Zeinab demanded
Adam met her gaze evenly. “I’m a surveyor. This is what I do.” His expression shifted, his mouth tightening greenly. “And now I’m gonna lie down for a second.”
He staggered back from the drop and collapsed onto the ground.
Zeinab shot Ellie a questioning look.
“He’s… not overfond of heights,” Ellie explained.
Zeinab studied the spot Adam had indicated. Her brow wrinkled with concentration. “It is possible we might examine the area without being seen—if we are very careful andveryquiet.”
Ellie felt a thrill of danger at the idea. Things would quickly go bad if they were discovered… but if any truth lay behind the text on the tablet, then an exploration of that ledge might reveal the true location of Neferneferuaten’s tomb—and perhaps solve the mystery of the lost pharaoh’s connection to the man the world knew as Moses.
“We’ll need to cross about a quarter mile down and then backtrack,” Adam commented from behind them, where he continued to lie flat on his back on the stones. “That’s the only way to make sure those sentries don’t spot us.”
“Is there no chance that extremely attractive Bedouin and his cousin might join us?” Constance asked hopefully.
Ellie wasn’t sure whether she was more eager for the assistance—or the view.
“No,” Zeinab replied flatly.
She trudged off toward the hollow behind their perch, where Ellie could hear the occasional grunt and bray from the herd.
Ellie gave her brother a more thorough examination. Neil’s waistcoat was missing a button, and his soft brown hair was in a state of disarray. “How are you, really?”
Neil hesitated before he replied. “Your Mr. Jacobs is terrifying.”
“Yes.” Ellie’s skin chilled with the memory of her past encounters with the man.
“That professor, Dawson… he claimed that Jacobs always knows when someone is lying.” Neil met Ellie’s gaze with a wide-eyed trepidation. “And I… I think I actually believe him. Is that mad?”
Ellie found herself washed over with memories—of Jacob’s icy confidence in the hotel in Belize Town. His tired, resigned certainty in the wilderness of the Cayo. The uncanny, impossible feeling that he simplyknew.
Ellie forced the answer out. “No. I don’t think you are.”
“How is that possible?” Neil demanded. “Toalwaysknow? I mean, I can see where a fellow might have a particular sense for the thing, which when looked at from a certain angle—”
“But it’s more than that,” Ellie cut in quietly.
Neil shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this.”
“Don’t have to.” Adam hauled himself back to his feet.
“Then what am I supposed to do?” Neil pushed back helplessly.
Adam clamped a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Stop the bad guys. Stay alive.”
Zeinab returned in a swirl of black cloth, the ropes, lantern, and crowbar slung over her shoulder.
“If you are here to be useful,” she declared authoritatively, “then come.”
Without waiting for answers, she set out across the cliffs, a scrap of fluttering shadow slipping through the darkness.
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