Alex, Ren, and Luke were all from New York City, so they’d had their share of celebrity sightings. But those celebs had all been alive.

Talking about Tut gave them some energy as they made their way through the Egyptian morning toward the first ferry to Luxor.

“He was kind of full of himself,” said Luke. “Total diva.”

“Pharaohs were told they were living gods,” said Alex sleepily. “I could see that going to your head.”

“Yeah, but he just, like, dropped my hat.”

Alex shrugged. “It is a Yankees cap.”

Luke blew air out his nose. “Please,” he said. “The Mets are doormats. How are we even related?”

“He was kind of handsome, though,” offered Ren.

Now Alex blew air out of his nose. “He wasn’t really,” he said. “I mean, not back then.”

“No?” said Ren, a little disappointment in her voice.

“Nope,” said Alex triumphantly. “He was a scrawny, buck-toothed little dude. I saw a show where they reconstructed what he looked like from X-rays and stuff.”

“Nerd,” said Luke. “Mets nerd.”

“Well, he didn’t look scrawny last night,” said Ren.

Luke agreed. “Dude was ripped.”

“Yeah, he looked just like his funeral mask,” said Alex.

“Right,” said Ren. She knew this one. “The ancient Egyptians believed that if they had a statue of themselves built before they died, they could, like, inhabit it in the afterlife. Their spirit could take on its shape. Remember how the last Death Walker looked just like his statue? Tut looks like his mask.”

“Bigger nerd,” said Luke. “Non-baseball nerd.” But then he had another thought. “I’d build my statue twenty feet tall!”

They turned a corner and the Nile came into view below them, a broad black ribbon in the soft morning light.

Inside the ferry, the crew outnumbered the passengers. The burned and blistering friends took their seats stiffly. They leaned in and counted how much money they had left after buying their ferry tickets. Medicine was liable to be expensive.

“When we call Todtman, we can ask him to send more,” said Alex.

“Or maybe bring it with him,” said Ren. “Now that we know what we’re dealing with here, he’ll probably want to come help out.”

Alex hoped he’d come. Todtman would give them a lot more firepower.

As they settled in for the rest of the trip, Alex pulled out the binder.

“Aren’t you done with that yet?” said Ren.

“It was hard to read by one little campfire,” he protested. “I could barely …” But as his eyes fell on the next line, he realized that he was done after all. He stopped speaking and even stopped breathing for a while.

“What?” said Ren, scooting around on the bench seat for a look.

Alex pointed to an entry halfway down the page, written in dull pencil. Ren leaned in. “Who’s Angela Felini?”

“She was my babysitter,” said Alex, “in third grade.”

“You mean Angie? Angie with the ponytail? She was your favorite!”

Alex nodded. “My mom’s, too.” He stabbed the crinkly page with his finger. “And that’s my mom’s handwriting.”

“So wait,” said Luke. “Was your babysitter here or not?”

Alex shook his head absently. He was staring at the last column, after the scrawled — and faked — signature. Reason for visit: “Leaving valley.”

“Look at the date,” said Ren, but Alex already had.

His mom was gone. As sure as Angela Felini had moved to Alexandria, Virginia, Maggie Bauer had been stopped at the checkpoint on the way out of the valley seven days earlier, signed a fake name — and disappeared. He stared at the familiar handwriting. How many notes had he seen it on? How many birthday cards?

“At least we know for sure,” said Ren, patting him on the shoulder. “She was here. Now we need to know if she left anything behind.”

Alex knew she meant the Spells, and he knew she was right. But he was caught up on new question: Why that name? Was it just the first one she’d thought of … or a message?

They called Todtman from just outside a little riverside teahouse as soon as they got off the boat. The call went straight to voice mail.

“We’re in Luxor,” said Alex. “Call us today, please.” He paused as two men walked by, one walking into the teahouse, the other walking out. “We found something, and … something found us. It’s important. Call us back. Okay, um, bye.”

“Why didn’t he answer?” said Ren.

“It’s still early,” said Alex. “He’ll call back.”

They headed toward the main drag of the city. The remote desert ridge had seemed to offer protection from The Order, but now they were back out in the open, and Alex felt exposed and vulnerable. And almost immediately, they caught sight of some commotion. A small crowd had gathered near the entrance to the Temple of Luxor.

Alex’s mouth was full of one of the rubbery buttered rolls they’d bought at the tea place, so he looked at the others and raised his eyebrows.

“Let’s check it out,” said Ren, who’d eaten her roll like a vacuum cleaner.

As they drew closer, they saw a crane lowering a massive stone block onto an oversized flatbed truck.

“They’re taking the stones right from the dromos,” said Alex, his tone distant with disbelief.

“From the what?” said Luke.

Alex pointed to the monument-lined path that led from Luxor Temple to Karnak. “Those,” said Alex, “are some seriously sacred stones.”

Alex’s jaw dropped as the crane plucked another massive block free and hoisted it toward the back of the truck. A ram-headed sphinx statue that had ridden high atop the stone for thousands of years now sat forlornly on the ground, bearing silent witness. The crowd jeered and pushed forward. One of the city’s biggest tourist attractions was being dismantled before their eyes.

And that’s when Alex saw the guards. Half a dozen men took a step toward the crowd, which instantly shrank back. Alex had originally mistaken them for workers, but that was before he saw the pistols in their hands. The men were wearing matching khaki uniforms, but there were no insignias. They weren’t army or police.

So where are the police? Alex searched the crowd and found Ren one step ahead of him. “Why don’t you stop them?” she was saying to a pair of police officers standing, arms folded, at the edge of the crowd.

Alex rushed over. The first officer just shook his head, not understanding, but the second spoke English well. “The papers seem to be in order,” he said. “From the government …”

From the way he said “seem to be,” Alex knew he didn’t believe it. And from the grim expressions on their faces, he knew that neither of them much liked it.

Puhh-WHUMMMPP!

Alex swung around as the massive stone block was lowered onto the back of the truck. There were already four others on there, and the huge vehicle’s entire frame seemed to bend and slump under the weight.

On the other side of the crane, yelling something at its operator, was a woman whose crisp suit hung loosely on her almost skeletal frame.

Peshwar.

“Ren! Luke!” he yelped, and motioned them quickly back into the crowd.

“Peshwar’s here,” he said.

“So The Order’s doing this?” Ren asked nervously. Alex could see her turning the pieces over in her head. “Why does The Order need a bunch of huge rocks?”

The big truck started up and the crowd jeered again as two plumes of black smoke belched from its exhaust pipes.

“Not rocks,” said Alex. “Sacred stones.” But he still didn’t know why they’d want them. He turned to watch as the truck pulled away, loaded with the blocks, heavy and strong. Did the ancient stones hold some power?

A few men tried to get in front of the truck as it pulled away. A warning shot was fired in the air. There were angry shouts, but in the end, the men moved and the crowd dispersed. The friends disappeared with it, slipping onto a side street.