Page 65 of Tomb of the Sun King

“Where else would we go?” Constance retorted as though Neil were being a bit thick.

He clamped his mouth shut, momentarily speechless.

“Or…” Ellie countered grimly. “If we could know for certain that this is the only clue left behind in Mutnedjmet’s tomb, then we might simply destroy it now and be done with it.”

“Destroy it?” Neil burst back wildly.

Ellie met his eyes. Her hazel gaze looked hollow. “I know it sounds terrible. But you have no idea what’s at stake here.”

“If Fairfax’s theories are right, and the lady in that tomb today was Nefertiti’s sister, she would have been part of Akhenaten’s court at the same time as this Moseh,” Adam pointed out. “There’s no way to know whether some other reference to him might still be lying around in there—however long it might take an idiot like Dawson to make sense of it,” he finished wryly.

Ellie’s gaze dropped to the jewelry box. A telltale crease marked the space between her eyebrows. Years ago, Neil would’ve reached out and skimmed his thumb over it.

What are you doing?

Just rubbing the worry out.

He hadn’t done that in a very long time.

“You’re right,” Ellie finally admitted. Her expression firmed into one of determination. “The only way we can be certain the staff doesn’t fall into Dawson’s hands is to find it first ourselves.”

“That settles it, then,” Constance concluded confidently. “Luxor it is.”

Nothing about this felt settled to Neil. He looked around the room frantically for someone else who might recognize the lunacy of what they were talking about.

Adam looked worried—but also determined. Sayyid’s mouth was creased into a thoughtful frown, but he wasn’t protesting. Neil’s frantic gaze moved past him—and stopped with a startled jolt as he realized that Mrs. Al-Ahmed was staring at him. Her green eyes were narrowed as though Neil were a dubious insect squirming under a microscope.

Neil swallowed thickly, forcing out one last final desperate attempt to make them see reason. “But… but shouldn’t we at least consider…”

Everyone turned to look at him as though surprised that he was speaking.

“…Perhaps just trying to speakwith Mr. Forster-Mowbray?” Neil’s words threatened to devolve into a squeak. “It is only that he has always presented himself as a respectable sort of person, and it’s possible that he simply doesn’t realize that this Dawson fellow is some sort of… nefarious…” He swallowed thickly against a throat made dry by desperation. “If… if we just tried to explain…”

They were all staring at him as thoughhewere the lunatic in the room.

He was Dr. Neil Fairfax, the Cambridge-trained archaeologist entrusted with the excavation of Horemheb’s Saqqara tomb. He was supposed to bein charge.

The thought made Neil stiffen his spine. “If we simply explained what all this is about,” he continued more firmly, “we might clear up a very big misunderstanding and make everything a great deal simpler. Perhaps Mr. Forster-Mowbray and the Athenaeum would even grant us the funds to follow up on this… er, academic detour.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’re quite all right for cash.” Constance plunged her hand into the bosom of her dirt-streaked lawn dress and pulled out a wad of banknotes. “I brought a modest emergency fund with me, as I usually do when headed on an adventure.”

Neil realized that his jaw was hanging open. He snapped it shut.

“M-modest…” he echoed helplessly.

He forced his eyes to fix on the pile of bills. It kept them from shifting back to Constance’s nicely rounded bosom.

“Pfft. This is only part of it,” Constance said dismissively. “I’m hardly going to keep it all hidden in one place, am I?”

“But where else could you hide it?” Neil blurted out.

“Wouldn’tyoulike to know?” Constance returned with a wink.

Neil’s ears reddened again.Danger gnome, he reminded himself frantically.

“So—Luxor,” Adam cut in. “We’ll need to catch the train, but we can’t leave out of Badrashin. Dawson and his cronies will certainly look for us there.”

“The next station south is at Al-Ayyat,” Sayyid offered. “It’s a little over twenty-five kilometers. If you ride, you can be there in about four hours. But to catch the Luxor service, you would have to leave early—no later than five.” He looked at his wife. “Do you think Mr. Jabari would be willing to lend his animals for the trip at that hour?”

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