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“Nor am I,” Ellie agreed.

“Hold on!” Neil straightened with the force of an epiphany. “What about that vignette on the wall of the funerary chapel back at Saqqara? That bit about the Flame of Isis from the Book of the Dead. Something aboutdriving away enemies…”

Ellie frowned with recognition. “You mean—The Flame of Isis says: I surround the hidden tomb with sand and drive thy enemy away,” she recited automatically.

Neil startled. “How do you know that?!”

“I saw it on the chapel wall before we descended into Horemheb’s tomb,” Ellie replied easily. “I am quite certain it is from Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-One of the Book of the Dead,” she added helpfully.

“And you have it memorized?” Neil protested. “How long did you look at it for—three minutes?”

“It might have been more like five,” Ellie admitted.

“You really do have a knack for that sort of thing,” Constance commented. “I always said you ought to try a turn on the stage.”

“Nonsense!” Ellie said. “That would be an entirely frivolous use of one’s memory.”

Zeinab’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It sounds as though that spell might simply bury the tomb in sand.”

“But what if they just dug it out again?” Jemmahor protested.

“Presumably, that’s where the ‘drive thy enemy away’ part comes in,” Constance replied confidently.

Ellie felt a quick lurch of fear—and of guilt, as her memory was flooded by the image of collapsing temples and shattering white stone. “But what about in the future? We can’t possibly destroy it forever. It’s… It would be…”

Adam set a steady, warm hand to her back. The strength of it gave her enough fortitude to draw in a breath, forcing down the panic that threatened to choke her.

“‘Drive thyenemyaway,’” Constance emphasized. “That doesn’t mean everyone. Just Sayyid’s enemies.”

“Sayyid’senemies?” Ellie echoed in confusion.

“Me?” Sayyid protested.

“Of course!” Constance returned. “You would be the one doing the spell. You’re still the only one among us who speaks Egyptian.”

“But who are Sayyid’s enemies?” Ellie pressed.

“I should say they include Julian Forster-Mowbray,” Constance replied dryly.

Adam stroked his hand along her spine. At the comforting feeling of his touch, Ellie’s panic steadied enough to allow her a little space to think. “And perhaps… they might also include anyone else who wished to take Egypt’s historical resources for reasons of greed or power,” she added tentatively, thinking of what she knew of Sayyid’s principles—as well as his anger and grief over the ravaging of his culture.

Sayyid had been looking a bit green at the notion of using the staff again, but at Ellie’s words, his expression grew more thoughtful.

“Yes,” Constance agreed authoritatively. “I should say it would.”

“How do you know so much about all of this?” Jemmahor’s narrowed eyes were both skeptical and intrigued. “Are you an expert on curses?”

“I have read a great many books about them,” Constance explained.

“Novels,” Neil burst out with an edge of unease. “You’ve read novels.”

“I… do think a strict rhetorical analysis of the curse text aligns with Constance’s interpretation,” Ellie allowed.

“See?” Constance smiled triumphantly.

“You can’t apply modern Western rhetorical analysis to Middle Egyptian!” Neil protested. “You haven’t the foggiest idea of the social context!”

“Actually, I do not think it is far off, in this case,” Sayyid countered.