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Isadora stiffened at my uncle’s sharp tone. Her hand crept toward her pocket. I knew what she kept hidden.

“You’re making my job harder,” Mr. Fincastle said and then he strode toward the first pylon, the line of his back unbending and rigid. He could having been marching toward the front lines, prepared to give his life for God and country.

His devotion unsettled me.

“He’s never failed at anything,” Isadora said. “And he’s good at what he does. You ought to let him do it.” She moved away with deliberate steps after her father. As if she wanted to make it clear that she wasn’t running away from us.

“I never should have allowed you to hire him, Ricardo,” Abdullah said when Isadora was out of earshot.

My uncle stared after Mr. Fincastle’s retreating form. “You know why I pushed for it.”

Whit’s gaze flickered to mine. Because of my mother, the criminal and smuggler, and her unfortunate involvement with The Company.

Hot shame bubbled up my throat, tasting like acid.

I felt, rather than saw, Tío Ricardo’s pointed frown, his disapproval coming off of him in waves. Without a word, my uncle strode forward and disappeared inside the temple, fastening the strap of the sandal as he went. A spark rose and caught fire, and flames engulfed the tip of the shoe. We followed after him and then he motioned for Abdullah to go down the stairs first. We were all of us quiet and focused, walking single file through the antechamber and treasury.

A young voice let out a sharp yell.

I turned around to find Mr. Fincastle holding Kareem by the scruff of his long, pale tunic. He kicked his legs, aiming for Mr. Fincastle’s shins, but his short height gave him no advantages.

“Release him,” Abdullah barked.

“He was following the lot of you—”

“He’s hardly dangerous. Let him go.” My uncle stepped forward, and pointed his index finger toward Kareem, who squirmed violently to get out of Mr. Fincastle’s iron grasp.

“Where there’s one, the others will follow,” Mr. Fincastle said, but then roughly released Kareem. He aimed a furious glare toward my uncle, and then disappeared up the stairs.

“He’s a menace,” Abdullah said disgustedly. “Come, Kareem, you may join us.”

“But behave,” Tío Ricardo warned. “And for God’s sake, don’t break anything.”

Kareem nodded, his warm brown eyes lighting up. He wiped his hands on his long galabeya, and then shot a smile my way. Whit struggled to hide his grin, and then he gestured for Kareem to go ahead of him. Together, we all pressed down on the tiles, and the hidden door swung open with a loud groan that ruined the deep quiet. Ahead, the thick wall blocked our path, the tall doors locked and sealed by a heavy rope spiraling through both copper handles. A heavy feeling of intrusion settled onto my shoulders. We were disturbing something that had remained hidden, kept safe from prying eyes.

We ought to leave them undisturbed and in peace.

I glanced at Abdullah, and he wore a similar expression of unease and disquiet.

“What are you thinking?” Ricardo asked, watching his brother-in-law carefully. “Have you changed your mind?”

“We’ve already talked about this,” Abdullah said with a trace of annoyance. “I would prefer we leave her untouched, but I know there will be others who won’t share the same intent. I fear I will regret turning back, without writing down and studying what we’ve seen before this sacred place is destroyed.” Abdullah took a deep breath. “Don’t ask me again. We press on.”

Ricardo stepped aside. “Then unwrap the rope.”

Abdullah stepped forward and began working. Whit nudged my arm and pointed to the two statues standing on either end of the double doors. I hadn’t noticed them before. They were tall women, dressed in long robes that looked more Greek than Egyptian, at least to my untrained eye, and carved in extraordinary detail. At once, I thought of Shakespeare.

“Iras and Charmian?” I guessed. “The handmaidens of Cleopatra?”

Tío Ricardo nodded. “Guarding her even now, in the afterlife.”

“In time we hate that which we often fear,” I quoted. “Charmian has the best lines.”

“Not true,” Whit said. “Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, and we are for the dark.I felt bad for them both.”

I understood why he would. Two young women doomed to die with their queen, their loyalty leading them to the underworld, a future with no more bright days and only the lasting darkness.

Whit regarded me thoughtfully. “Do you think the three died by asp or poison?”