Leila grabbed the collar of her dress and walked into the room. Her feet clacked against the mosaic floor and echoed off the smooth, white walls. If Alexander the Great had been buried here, any traces of him had been removed.
She stopped in front of the altar and studied the fiery bowl. Heat radiated from the flames dancing over the surface of a black liquid.
“Is that what I think it is?” she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away.
“Anything will ignite it. Blood. Clothing. Skin. Even water. And there’s nothing that can put it out.”
“What’s in it?”
“Pitch, sulfur, charcoal. The rest, I don’t know.” He turned away and strode to the opposite side of the room. She was pulled after him as he disappeared through another doorway. His footsteps quickened, descending down a staircase by the sound of it.
Leila hurried after him, spiraling deeper into the mountain. She took in a deep lungful of the sulfur-thick air. Did she really want to see what was down there? Yes. Definitely, yes. This place was fascinating. And frightening. But what was Abdullah up to? Her chest tightened. One thing was slowly becoming apparent. He wasn’t going to let her go home.
The stairs continued in a circular path, four or five stories down. It was hard to tell with no landings or signs to explain where the steps were leading her.
The stairs ended and Leila stopped in a doorway to stare into another cavernous chamber. Two human-sized statues with falcon heads flanked the entrance, one gripping a spear and the other an unrolled scroll. Beyond the statues, towering columns supported the roof of the cavern, two lines of fire bordering the pathway between them. Abdullah strode down the center of the walkway, his gait quick and purposeful.
Leila scurried after him, toward the gaping mouth of a giant jackal head carved into the stone. Three steps led into the mouth, where another altar stood.
Knitting her brow together, she slowed to match Abdullah’s pace. Her dress clung to her back, soaked in sweat as the heat intensified with each step, and she breathed through her mouth so she wouldn’t gag on the sulfuric stench.
Abdullah came to a halt in the middle of the path. She stopped and peered around him. On top of the altar sat a smooth, gray metal rectangle, roughly the size of a shoe box, the middle blackened as if it had been charred by fire.
“What is that?” she whispered.
“That? Inside that is the work of Lysias. Greek fire, perfected. It’s a bomb that could turn Cairo into a crater.”
CHAPTER 43
Leila’s heart pounded so hard her chest ached. This entire time, Abdullah had been intending to destroy the place. And since he blamed her for everything, it was only fitting she came along. She had no idea how much damage the bomb could actually do, but remembering the size of the hole El-Misbah had been built into, she had a feeling it was enough to end both their lives. And if Xander was close by like she hoped, his too. She stepped back, tugging helplessly at the rope.
Abdullah turned to her, his eyes blazing. The blade of his janbiya glinted as he slowly drew it from its sheath. This was it.
He strode up to her and grabbed her wrists. Leila shook her head, opening her mouth to scream, but her voice failed her. Her lips could only form a “no.”
At the tightening of his grip, panic surged through her veins. She kicked, yanking her arms back. Her voice broke free and she screamed.
Like an iron fetter, he held on and tugged her toward him. Her foot met his knee just as he sliced through the zip-tie. The plastic dropped to the ground and he took a step back, lowering his weapon.
Chest heaving, she looked down at the red stripes across her wrists. She was free. He’d dragged her all the way out here, showed her one of the greatest discoveries she could ever make, revealed that he intended to blow the place up, and now he was letting her go?
“Why?” she breathed, confused.
“You were a friend to Amina,” he said intensely. “It’s what she would have wanted.”
Abdullah sheathed his dagger, then reached up to his neck once again and fumbled under his collar. He ripped his hand away. The string snapped, and he held out his palm toward her. The off-white pendant rested on his hand, the same one he’d used as a key to open the doors upstairs.
Leila stood rigid, unable to take her eyes off the pendant. Her key to escape.
“Take it. Go. There’s a trap door, under the statues. It will take you outside—”
Leila shook her head and stepped back.
“Take it. Now!” Abdullah roared.
“I can’t—I can’t let you do this.”
“You have five minutes,” he hissed. “Leave now, before I change my mind again.”
“What do you mean, again?”
Abdullah’s eyes narrowed into cobra slits and his lip curled into a snarl. “We were followed.”
Her heart did a somersault. Xander.
“I planned it that way. He was camped in the rocks near the monastery. I made sure he saw us leave the tunnel.”
Wait a minute… Leila took another step back, her lungs frozen. “You mean Amina’s killer,” she breathed, feeling like the biggest idiot ever. She should have seen it. “You came back for me, not because you wanted the journal. But because you needed me. You were going to kill all of us.”
Abdullah glared down at her, unmoving.
“You monster.” Leila’s hands curled into fists. “You used me as bait.”
“And now I’m giving you an escape.” He held the pendant toward her again. “Take it and get out of my sight.”
Leila took a few more steps back. This could be another trap. He’d used her to lure the killer this far. He might be using her to direct him to a specific location before detonating the Greek fire.
And she couldn’t let him do it. Not without knowing if Xander was safe. How was he going to detonate it anyway? Her eyes darted around the chamber. There was nothing in here… the statue’s spear? Would those do enough damage? Would he have to pick the bomb up and throw it? Light a match? Her gaze fell on his rifle.
