“What’s going on?”
Karl stared at her with round eyes. “Someone broke into the tomb.” His voice cracked.
“No,” Leila gasped as her stomach dropped. That wasn’t possible. How could Amir have hit so fast? There was still so much they had to remove. Everything would have been up for grabs. But how could he have made it past the police? Images of the dead guard flashed before her eyes and she shivered. She should have known better than to underestimate him.
“Yeah, it’s crazy. Whoever broke in didn’t even do anything.” Karl’s face twisted in confusion. “They just left something behind.”
She pinched her eyebrows together. It was her turn to be confused. “What?”
“Some papyrus,” Karl continued. “Super weird. It’s like some kind of conspiracy. I wonder what’s on the papyrus. Maybe it’s an ancient curse. Like, about the tomb, you know? Whoever opens it will get a suspicious mosquito bite and…” He gulped and ran a shaking hand through his curly blond mop. “I was the first in there today because the lights weren’t working. I wanted to fix that before you guys got started. I thought it would be shorted out, but someone had actually cut the wiring. And then, there it was in the middle of the antechamber. I thought the place would be empty. It just felt super creepy, so I ran out of there as fast as I could.”
“You found it?” Leila’s eyes widened.
“Yeah. Soliman is furious. He thinks one of the guards did it. Or someone bribed them to be let in. But seriously, I bet it’s a curse. Now we’re all gonna die.”
Leila touched her fingertips to her temple and shook her head. “Karl, no one is going to die,” she said, although she wasn’t sure she believed her own words.
Her feet crunched over the gravel and sand as she sought out Soliman. She spotted him with Emma, who seemed to have gotten him to calm down, at least enough to stop yelling. He sat on a low, crumbling wall, white knuckles gripping his cane so tightly Leila was sure it would snap.
After a questioning glance at Emma, who shrugged, Leila sat on the wall next to him.
“Did I hear correctly that someone left a papyrus in the tomb?” she asked.
The creases around Soliman’s mouth deepened with his frown. “I’ll be going down in a moment. You can come along and see for yourself before the police get here and secure the scene.”
Grateful for the invitation, she geared up with a hard hat and flashlight and joined Soliman and Emma on the short trek to the antechamber. It was as Karl had described. With artifacts piled up in one half of the room, a glass panel lay central on the smooth tiles. Leila, Emma, and Soliman gathered around the shiny square, their headlamps illuminating the papyrus beneath the clear surface.
A chill traveled down Leila’s back as she studied the very same papyrus Amir had presented a few weeks ago. The hieroglyphs were as she remembered, the bottom right corner neatly cut and slightly burned on the edges.
If only Xander were here to see this. He’d know what to say. He’d have an idea of what to do next.
“Why do you think he brought it back?” Emma asked after Soliman explained the origins of the papyrus to her.
Soliman shook his head. “I can’t answer that. We’ve secured the tomb and the artifacts. Al-Rashid won’t need the papyrus anymore. Perhaps it’s a sign of peace?”
With her stomach churning, Leila silently disagreed. There was no way it was a sign of peace. It was a warning.
• • •
The police couldn’t find any evidence of a break-in, nor could they find any fingerprints on the glass panel protecting the papyrus. There was no way for them to trace it back to Al-Rashid. Whoever left it there had executed a flawless break-in. Seeing no reason to dwell on the issue, Soliman insisted on continuing with the excavation and getting the artifacts to safety before there was another intrusion. With a new sense of urgency, the team picked up its pace. They began to work around the clock in shifts.
It was an unconventional method, but no one questioned Soliman on his desire to bring the artifacts to safety. The season was coming to an end, and there was another set of sealed doors Soliman wanted to open during the spring semester.
Three more weeks had passed by the time they finished packing up the last few artifacts and loaded them onto the truck. Leila lingered in the tomb, taking her time to do a final once-over of the chambers—for a few weeks, at least. Now that they were empty, she could truly appreciate the vibrant paintings on the walls, depicting the life and death of Neferkheri. While most of the hieroglyphics needed to be translated, some of the paintings were merely stories you could understand by examining the pictures.
Soliman finished putting his tools into his bag and backed up, admiring the walls with her. “Lovely, aren’t they?”
“They’re perfect.”
“And to think we have to paint the walls in our house every few years, but theirs last for millennia.”
“If only they had written down their recipes.” Leila laughed. She picked up her bag and they left together, turning out the light before the steel door was shut and locked, leaving the tomb in peace until the next excavation could begin.
“So what are your plans for winter break?” Soliman asked as he walked out with her.
“I’m going to be in England. Visiting some friends,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask for any more details.
“Ah, England. The British Museum is making bids for a premier exhibit of the artifacts. We’ll see if the University agrees. The Egyptian Museum in Cairo is determined to exhibit it first.”
A grin spread over her face. Their discovery, going on tour. It was surreal. But there was a lot of work to be done until that was possible. “Well, I’ll be around to help get things ready. Once I get back from England, that is,” she said. Until then, she was on a mission.
Chapter Thirty-One
Leila couldn’t keep her gaze off the soggy fields dotted with sheep that rushed past in a near blur.
It’s all so green.
Her hands twisted in her lap as her taxi drove along the narrow winding roads. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Moments later, they entered the drive of a red brick building, passing the sign welcoming them to the St. Mary’s Rehabilitation Facility.
Leila climbed out of the taxi after paying the fare and paused in front of the entrance. Located outside of town, the facility boasted spacious gardens and views of the rolling hills where cows lazily grazed. The crisp January air nipped at her cheeks, her breath swirling in a white cloud in front of her face.
The taxi driver rolled down the window. “Uh, your flowers, love,” he said, jerking his head toward the backseat.
“Oh! Thanks.” Leila opened the car door and retrieved the bouquet, a bright mix of different-colored carnations. The vehicle rolled off, and she faced the building, her body stiff.
Might as well get it over with.
Leila strode through the automatic glass doors and greeted the receptionist. The lady held up a finger as she finished a phone call.
