Here goes nothing. She pulled out a scroll and turned it over in her hands, cringing at the thought of all the oils on her fingers smearing the document. The material was thick and stiff, but flexible when given slight pressure. Definitely parchment, not papyrus. She unrolled it. Hieroglyphics covered the page from top to bottom, painted with a delicate ink, browned with age.
But the hieroglyphics were definitely not a formula to create Greek fire. At first glance, the text mentioned a ‘Lord of Cats.’ She’d love to read more of that one someday. Instead, she carefully rolled it back up, placed it on the shelf, and moved on to the next scroll. And then the next. And the next. None of them mentioned Lysias or his Greek fire bomb.
She stopped when her eyes fell on a small, square box on the shelf, tucked between rolls of parchment. Covered in carvings of hieroglyphics, the box looked to be made of wood. Unable to stop herself, she picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was light, but sturdy. Unsure why, she slipped it into her pocket. Not to keep for herself. No, she would give it to a museum or university. But maybe she just wanted to hold onto a piece of this place, just for a little while, and it was the sturdiest thing she could carry.
Without taking anything else, Leila finished her search of the first row, then peered into the next. Drake stood at the other end, examining the scrolls in front of her. Leila moved on to another shelving unit. It looked the same as the others—stuffed with scrolls and thick, leather books.
She was halfway down the row when something white on the middle shelf caught her attention. Frowning, she studied the object sitting in an empty space. Flat, white paper.
Paper? That’s odd…
She picked it up. Crisp white instead of aged brown, the edges perfectly straight, it looked and felt like printer paper. It was no medieval manuscript. She flipped it over. The center was sealed with a blob of reddish wax, embossed with the Medjay hieroglyphics.
There was no way it had been there for very long.
“Hey, come take a look at this,” she called out to Xander and Drake.
A moment later, they stood on either side of Leila, staring at the folded paper in her hand.
“Is it addressed to anyone?” Xander asked.
“I don’t see a name on it.” Leila turned it back to the plain side. It was empty.
“It could be from Sed,” Drake ventured, though she didn’t sound convinced. “He was the last Medjay in this area.”
But why would he leave a note?
“Well, why don’t you read it?” Xander suggested.
Leila nodded. “Sure. Why not?” She broke the seal and unfolded the paper, then read the note aloud.
I’ve taken the Scrolls of Lysias. I’m sorry. The curse is upon my head.
Mouth hanging open, she slowly lowered the paper and stared at the empty space on the shelf without really looking at it.
The scrolls were gone.
“Is that all?” Xander asked.
“That’s all.” Was this some sort of joke? Now they had nothing they could use against Faris. Swallowing, she reread the note again and again until it finally hit her, and she gasped.
“What is it?” Xander stepped toward her, lifting a hand as if to catch her in case she fell.
“Soliman…” Leila breathed. “This is his handwriting.”
“Let me see.” Drake took the paper from her and glanced it over. “You’re right.”
“I’ve seen his handwriting thousands of times. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
“But why?” Xander ran his fingers through his hair. “Why would he take the scrolls?”
“I can think of several reasons.” Drake handed the paper back to Leila. “First, look at the paper. It’s been here a day, two at the most. There’s no dust or grime on it. Which means he came here right after the bombing. Maybe he caught wind that Faris was after the scrolls. Maybe he panicked? Maybe he didn’t want Leila cursed for disturbing the chamber?”
“Maybe isn’t good enough,” Xander snapped.
Drake crossed her arms. “I know what Faris is up to. Faris is trying to get the world to turn on Soliman before he kills him. This way, Soliman goes down in disgrace.”
Leila folded the paper and flicked at the wax seal. “So, if Soliman came after the scrolls before anyone else could get here, he’ll either destroy them or—”
“Who cares about the scrolls?” Drake cut in. “Soliman has gone after Faris.”
“What?” Leila blinked. “How do you know?”
“Because I know Soliman. Faris is picking a fight, and Soliman will want to end it.”
“Soliman is mad,” Xander said, his voice carrying a tone of disbelief and admiration. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s just as we suspected. Faris planted the bomb in a way to make Soliman look guilty. With Soliman already on a government watch list for his shady business,” he gave Leila a dark look, “he’s an all-too-easy target. Throw a bomb into the mix and the government is going to bring each and every one of Soliman’s associates down. Including you.”
Xander shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re just another pawn in the game. Faris is trying to scare you into doing what he wants.”
Leila nodded, her mouth dropping open as it all clicked together. Now everything made sense. Faris was trying to get all of them killed. It was twisted. Insane. What a jerk!
Leila glanced back at the paper. Now Soliman was heading straight into the lion’s den. He was going to try to take Faris down by himself. He was putting himself in the crosshairs so no one else had to.
Leila swallowed down the hard lump in her throat. “W-what do we do now?”
“First, you can give that scroll to me,” a familiar voice drawled from the end of the bookshelf.
The three of them whirled around. Bastet stood in the middle of the aisle, gun drawn and aimed at Leila.
