He held everything out to her.
“Use what you need.”
She pulled the strap over her head and stuffed the dagger inside the bag. Then she sucked in a deep breath and nodded. This was it. Their final parting.
Abdullah lifted a hand and pressed something into her palm. Once her fingers wrapped around the object, he released his hold.
She glanced down at her hand, now holding a long bell-shaped piece of bone. The matte sand-colored surface was covered in scratches and dents, the head of a jackal protruding from the top. She turned it over to look at the flat end and traced a thumb over the raised pattern embossed into the surface. The same Medjay symbol she had seen on the seal. She folded her fingers around it.
“As-salamu alaykom,” she said softly.
“Peace be upon you,” he repeated, stone-faced.
She took a few steps back but couldn’t bring herself to turn away. His gaze wasn’t sad, but pained. Weary.
Abdullah’s eyelids slid shut and his body swayed. She thought he might collapse, then he parted his lips to speak.
“Soliman,” he muttered.
Leila frowned. Did he just say what she thought he did?
“Tell Soliman.” He swallowed. “Tell him the scroll is safe.”
Leila’s stomach turned to ice. She stumbled back, dizzied from the thoughts spinning through her mind. He knew Soliman. Soliman knew him?
“What do you mean?” Her eyes searched Abdullah’s ashen face. “What scroll? What does Soliman have to do with any of this?”
“Go,” Abdullah snarled. He turned and limped down the walkway, his path leading straight into the jackal’s mouth.
Her hand tightened around the seal. He was right. There was no time for this. Xander needed her. Now. She spun and glanced back and forth between the two statues. Which one did he mean? The one holding the spear? Or the one holding the scroll?
Her gaze roamed up and down the armed statue, unsure of what she was looking for. Its spear looked to be made of wood and metal, like an actual weapon that could be thrown. But what good would that do her now?
She turned to the one holding the stone scroll and studied its surface. There, at the bottom of the unrolled document, the Medjay seal, slightly depressed in the stone. She stepped forward and traced the engraving. It would fit.
Holding the bottom of the bone seal onto the button, the engravings matching up perfectly. She pushed down and something clicked. Stone grated against stone and the statue slid back, revealing a hidden staircase underneath its base.
With one foot on the first step, she stopped herself. That spear. It might come in handy after all. She ran over to the other statue, grabbed his weapon, then ran back to the staircase. After one last glance at Abdullah’s form stumbling slowly toward the box, she hurried down the steps.
The stairs ended in a square tunnel, the low ceiling forcing her to crouch. Spear in one hand, flashlight in the other, the beam bobbed in front of her. No end in sight. The heat was bearable but her kaftan clung to her torso and limbs, and her hair was heavy with sweat.
This was taking much longer than she thought it would. Or maybe time seemed to be going slower. She had no way to tell.
The passage turned sharply to the left. She continued, the padding of her feet echoing all around her. The floor remained level, not going up or down. Straight through the middle of the mountain. The exit had to be close now. She kept her eyes at the edge of the beam of light, ignoring the thundering of her heart.
There’s enough time.
Abdullah would wait, wouldn’t he? She had no idea on how to judge his injuries, but with all the walking and talking he’d been doing, he probably had some time. Not that he’d want to wait long once he unjammed his rifle. He was probably in a lot of pain. Even he hadn’t been able to hide that.
The beam hit a wall of stone. Leila stopped and panted. Those rocks weren’t there on purpose. The rest of the tunnel walls were smooth and straight, but the wall in front of her was uneven. The ceiling had collapsed.
A fist squeezed around her heart. It couldn’t be blocked. She didn’t have time for that.
Remembering Abdullah’s trick with the hidden ladder at the monastery, she looked up. Like the walls, the ceiling was smooth, no signs of an opening anywhere.
The seal. She set the spear and flashlight down and pulled the pendant out of her pocket. Maybe there was another button.
After slipping the string around her neck, she placed both palms on the wall, looking for the matching seal. Or a hole. Something. She slid her hands up and down the walls and found nothing. Despair twisted in her stomach and she collapsed to her knees, choking on a cry. This couldn’t be happening. Did she take a wrong turn or miss a sign? No, the tunnel had been empty. She would have seen an exit if there had been one.
But giving up was not an option. Xander was out there, possibly fighting for his life. She just had to dig herself out. Fast. Drawing strength from desperation, she pushed herself to her feet and started at the top of the rock pile. Stone clacked down the slope, the pile shifted, but still her path was blocked. Her breaths quickened, her lungs constricting. She kept digging and pulling. Sharp edges grazed her fingers and hands, smearing the stones with red.
An icy flutter brushed against her cheeks. Fresh air. She was getting somewhere. Determination rose in her chest, and she dug furiously at the pile of rocks, until diamonds trapped on a black canvas twinkled down at her. She sucked in a gulp of oxygen, cooling her lungs of the hot, stale air of the tunnel. A few more shoves and pushes and she climbed out of the hole and onto more rock. A jolt of shock surged in her chest. Her heart stopped. Inches away from her feet, the rocks ended. It was a several-hundred foot fall to the valley below. Sending her out this way had been a death sentence.
She gasped in another lungful of air, leaning her torso away from the cliff edge. She could still climb. The path they had taken up the side of the mountain wouldn’t be far. Her arms and legs didn’t want to move, but every second she sat there was a second wasted.
Find Xander and get out of there, you dolt. And maybe do something about the maniac trying to kill us.
She pulled the spear and flashlight from the hole, then tucked the light into her bag and wrapped the spear into the straps. Her gaze roved up the mountain side before her. The only way to go. It didn’t look too steep from this angle. A gradual forty percent incline. Some spots might be tricky, but rocks jutted out—there were plenty to grip.
The moon gave her enough light to see where to place her hands and feet as she climbed. Small bits of rock rolled down behind her, silently disappearing off the side of the mountain. Ignoring the burning in her arms, she pulled herself up and over the last boulder and onto the narrow path they had followed earlier. She slipped the spear out of the straps and held it with both hands twisting around the handle.
No one was in sight, but shouts grew louder as she slunk down the trail. She pressed herself against the wall to stop herself from doing something rash. She wouldn’t be any help if she panicked. Keeping the tip of the spear in front of her middle, she inched along the path until the mouth of the cave was in sight. Dread writhed in her chest as she slowed her steps. The shouts continued. Xander was still fighting. Still alive. They could make it out of here.
A blast came from ahead. Gunfire. Her breath caught, and she swallowed back Xander’s name. She couldn’t give herself away. Then she heard laughter. Maniacal. Demonic. There was no holding it back. She screamed Xander’s name and ran.
• • •
“I had big plans for you,” David sneered. “But I think I like how things are turning out, anyway.” He lowered the gun and fired.
