“Take a look at this!” he called, a few decibels too loud.
Emma and Leila joined him at the wall, peeking over his shoulder at the scene.
“What about it?” Emma asked, exchanging a confused glance with Leila. Leila shrugged.
Karl pointed a shaking finger at the painting of a disk. Beams shot out of the bottom half, an outstretched hand protruding from the end of each ray, reaching toward the Egyptians standing underneath. An Egyptian priest knelt underneath the beams, raising his hands toward the disc.
“This.” Karl’s voice shook. “If this isn’t evidence enough. I’ve been telling you all along—”
“Karl.” Leila sighed. “That’s not a flying saucer.”
“What is it then?”
Leila tried to keep from laughing. Karl was trying so hard to find his proof, she had to give him credit for his determination. “It’s the sun.”
But Emma burst into a fit of laughter and clapped Karl on his drooping shoulders.
After Leila showed them the rest of the tomb, keeping silent about the clue on the sarcophagus, the trio made its way back outside to rejoin the others. The air had cleared, meaning it was time to get back to the trenches and dust everything back off.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Leila once again sat cross-legged in the trench. Before her rose the newly uncovered wall. She had abandoned the shovels and now held a trowel in her hand, which she occasionally traded for a pick to scratch out the dirt between the stones.
As a final touch, she used a brush to rid the masonry of any remaining residue. After sweeping away the sand from one section, she had exposed intricately carved hieroglyphics, finally giving them a clue as to what the structure was. Leila rolled up her leather pouch with tools and slung the shoulder strap over her neck as Soliman and Emma approached.
“What do you think?” Soliman asked as he placed his spectacles on his nose and squinted at the symbols.
“Definitely a mastaba,” Leila said, pointing at the hieroglyph meaning “house,” drawn as a rectangle with an opening. The hieroglyph next to it was a pillar, easily recognizable as the ancient Egyptian word for eternity. House of Eternity.
“Mmhm.” Soliman licked a finger and began to flip through his notebook to a blank page.
Emma was preoccupied with her camera settings, optimizing them for pictures of the wall, so Leila said she’d rejoin them after a break. She needed to get out of the sun for a few minutes. Her feet crunched along the gravel path toward the break tent until the sight of Xander brought her to a halt. He worked alone near the sifting station, shoveling sand into a wheelbarrow. He didn’t seem to notice her watching and continued to work, his biceps flexing with each shovelful.
Though he had yet to mention the incident from two days ago, there was unfinished business. Leila took a deep breath. Might as well get it over with.
Slowly, she approached him. He faced her before she could say anything.
“What are you looking for now?”
“I’m not looking for anything,” she snapped. Why did he insist on making this difficult? She had to make this right or there was no way they’d be able to work so close together.
“I wanted to say sorry.” Her voice softened. “Sorry for going into your room. I shouldn’t have. It was stupid. It was an invasion of your privacy and I had no right to assume—”
“What’s done is done.” He cut her off by raising his hand. “Now you know I have nothing to hide.”
“Oh.” That was it then. She had apologized and he had accepted it, so her mission was accomplished. “All right.” She pivoted to leave.
“Wait,” Xander called. When she didn’t stop, his shovel clattered on the ground. A moment later, he fell into step at her side. “I must admit I’d love to know what’s going on in your mind.”
She grimaced. Like she would ever tell him.
“I know you don’t think highly of me, but did you really believe I would break into your room, bash your head in, and steal something I know you must have cherished?”
Leila rolled her eyes. “I apologized and I meant it. Can’t you just leave it at that? Does it matter what I think of you? All I want to do here is dig. And I’d like to be able to dig in peace.”
“But why won’t you?” Xander stopped and grasped her arm, turning her toward him. “We agreed to be civil, but you had to go and nose around my room. You seem to be the only one here who has a problem.”
Leila clenched her teeth. This guy knew exactly what buttons to press. “Of course I have a problem.”
“What is your blasted problem then?”
At that moment, voices came from behind them. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto one foot. There was no way she would say anything in front of a group of tourists. The last thing she needed was for them to end up on social media or something.
“Tell me,” he growled. “Everything.”
Leila bit down on her lower lip, forcing herself to stay silent.
Xander glanced over at the tourists. They had stopped a few feet away, chattering loudly as they took pictures of the façade of Djoser’s funerary complex. He took hold of Leila’s wrist again and guided her into the structure, out of view from the tourists, and they headed down the roofed colonnade of pillars chiseled in the likeness of bundles of papyrus stems. He veered off the path to take shelter between two of the massive columns.
“Let’s try again. What is your dilemma?” He gazed down at her intently, almost making her break eye contact.
Refusing to look away, she glowered at him. There was so much she could say. He reminded her of horrible memories. He reminded her of what couldn’t be. He reminded her of how stupid and naïve she had been to trust him. Her shoulders slumped, her head too heavy to hold upright.
“I just,” she started, wishing she could give him a piece of her mind. But it wouldn’t change anything if she did. “I’m just overwhelmed. After getting attacked, I panicked.” She lifted her head and hoped her face didn’t reveal how crushed she was inside. “That’s all. I shouldn’t have gone into your room. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Certain that was the end of the conversation, she bumped past him to leave, but he placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Wait. Listen.” His voice was calm but held a hint of desperation. “I know how much it hurts.”
