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Neil’s latest uninvited visitor wore a fashionable white lawn dress and appeared by way of sliding down the steeply inclined frame of the stairs on her neatly laced kid boots. She landed in the midst of Neil and the others with a violent grace and a puff of dust.

With a neat tug, she loosened the scarf tied under her chin and plucked off her enormous hat. Neil found himself looking down into a heart-shaped face punctuated by bottomless brown eyes and a thick mane of dark chocolate hair, which had been whipped into an elegant Gibson tuck.

It was an exceptionally pretty face, and Neil stood up a little straighter.

“Oh!” he said, self-consciously adjusting his bow tie. “I’m sorry. You’ve arrived in the middle of…” His throat tightened with nerves, and he changed tactics. “Er, that is to say, this tomb isn’t currently open to tourists, as we are still in the process of—”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to save the lecture,” the extremely attractive woman cut in authoritatively. “That professor has spotted the tomb shaft, and Mr. Mahjoud won’t be able to delay him for much longer.”

The sound of her voice sparked a bolt of recognition through Neil’s brain, memory painting itself over the womanly features before him—of a small face dwarfed by the same pair of enormous brown eyes, which shone devilishly at him as they popped up from behind his desk, nearly making him spill his tea. Of his notes on Greco-Roman trade routes being turned into paper airplanes. New marginalia appearing in his textbooks, mostly depicting battle scenes drenched in red ink.

Of the sense of sheer horror that had swept over him every time he heard a particular set of unnaturally heavy footfalls on the stairs—and knew that Ellie had invited her most terrifying friend over to play.

The danger gnome,Neil had called her.

Now the danger gnome was here. In his tomb. Looking… gorgeous.

“Connie?!” Neil burst out, the words tight with confusion.

“Hello, Stuffy.” Constance cast a considering gaze over Neil’s person. “You’re looking well.” Her assessment stopped at his mustache, and she frowned. “But have you got a bit of soot on your lip?”

Neil wondered if it might be possible for him to sink into his shoes and disappear.

“Are you certain this one is not the Peanut?” Sayyid pressed, blinking at the diminutive new arrival.

“But did you see who was with Professor Dawson?” Ellie demanded urgently. “Was Jacobs there?”

“Tall? Dark hair? Expression kinda like that crocodile lady on the ceiling?” Adam offered helpfully.

“I didn’t get a chance to look,” Constance replied. “It all happened rather quickly. Mr. Mahjoud was set on boosting me over the temple walls, and I only barely managed to get into the tomb shaft instead.”

“But why would you do that?” Neil exclaimed. “Why would you climb into the shaft?”

“To warn the rest of you,” Constance returned.

“About what?” Neil’s volume had risen again.

“The imminent arrival of the villains, of course,” Constance said as though the answer ought to have been perfectly obvious.

Neil began to feel dizzy.

“Should we go?” Adam asked.

Bizarrely, he appeared to be directing the question to Ellie.

“We would be leaving whatever is here in Dawson’s hands,” Ellie replied with a tight desperation.

“I am afraid there is most likely not much here at all—at least that would be of interest to thieves,” Sayyid informed her. “Though the entrance to this tomb complex was still intact, it is already quite clear the entirety of it was looted in antiquity. There is still plenty left of scholarly interest, of course, but anything of more obvious value would have been taken from here nearly two thousand years ago. If your Dawson is a treasure hunter, he will most likely be disappointed.”

“Dawson is after a different sort of treasure,” Ellie retorted grimly.

“Hold on!” Neil pressed his hands to his temples. “If this Dawson person you all keep going on about is some kind of tomb robber, our men will stop him. None of this is necessary!”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Constance returned. “Dawson is here with your amir! Your men aren’t going to go up against the fellow who provides the funds for their pay, are they?”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Neil protested wildly. “Why would my amir bring a thief to the tomb?”

“More importantly, how shall we get whatever we find past him?” Constance pressed with an unsettling excitement. “We will need to stage an ambush. Mr. Bates has his machete, and I took the precaution of securing a few knives about my person in the usual spots—”