Akhenotra waved his hand and the tunnel entrance sealed behind him, the stone on one side seeming to reach out and fuse with the stone on the other.

Alex’s mind flashed to the thin slice of light that had drawn them there in the first place. “You left it open, didn’t you?” he said. “To lure us here.”

Akhenotra answered vaguely. “Even the most fragile creatures feel safe in the light of the day.”

It was a priest’s analogy, soothing language for a florid sermon, but Alex was thinking of another saying: like moths to a flame.

“Shouldn’t they feel safe in the sun?” said Alex, trying to keep the Walker talking as he swung the pack off his back with his free hand. The weight shifted within as the pack settled on the floor: the metal clank of the flashlights, the wooden thunk of the Book. “Doesn’t the sun give life?”

The Walker huffed out a little laugh, the meaning of which hadn’t changed at all in the last three millennia: nice try.

“The light was meant for another,” he said, his gaze turning from Alex to Luke and Ren. They were standing near the stone altar in the center of the room, the only meager shelter the chamber provided. “But you three will do for now. I will need my strength for the battle to come.”

Akhenotra turned back to Alex and raised his hands above his head. Even as Alex’s left hand tightened around his amulet and he felt the electric rush of its power, his right hand tugged on the zipper of his backpack. If it was a battle he wanted …

“Your tomb sucks!” called Ren, her small frame nearly eclipsed behind the stone altar.

Akhenotra lowered his hands slightly and turned to face her. “I have modest needs, little one.”

“Yeah,” she said, the ibis channeling her living words into a long-dead tongue. “Or The Order just doesn’t like you! You should see the tombs they built for the others.”

Alex knew what she was doing: provoking, distracting. It was a dangerous game. His pack gaped open, revealing a corner of the Book of the Dead.

“I didn’t need their help,” said Akhenotra. The defensiveness in his voice told Alex that, though his tomb was more modest, vanity was a weakness for this Walker, too. “This chamber was provided for me by the beneficence of the Aten.”

“You just found it!” said Alex. Two could play Ren’s game. “They wouldn’t even build you one.”

Akhenotra’s broad chest puffed out slightly. “We will work together in the Final Kingdom, when I will rule this land in the name of the Aten.”

The Final Kingdom? Alex wanted to know what he meant, but survival mattered more.

“For now, all I need is a place to worship,” continued Akhenotra. “And sustenance.” He raised his hands again, and this time flames began to form in the air between them. “Enough talk,” he said, over the low crackle. “Make peace with your profane gods.”

“DON’T LOOK AT IT!”

This time, Ren’s warning had come in time.

Alex tore his eyes away from the rolling fire. He yanked out the twin boards holding the ancient texts. Holding his amulet, his eyes washed across the small, precise hieroglyphs. He knew who the Walker was now, so he was pretty sure he could figure out the right spell. Something about the sun, maybe, or priests, or …

“Look out, Alex!” cried Ren.

Alex swung his head back around and flame filled his vision. The Walker had released his fireball, and it was rocketing toward him.

Instinctively, disastrously, Alex raised his hands, which still held the ancient text. The Book of the Dead became a shield for the living, as the flaming sphere crashed into the tightly held boards. Dry wood and ancient papyrus that had survived thousands of years instantly went up in smoke, and Alex was left shaking his burned fingers.

“Nooo!” cried Ren.

Alex’s heart dropped, but he wrapped his heat-stung hand around his scarab.

“That is twice you have surprised me, little heretic,” said Akhenotra. “There won’t be a third time.”

Alex felt the heat of the chamber against his sweat-slick skin. His right hand was at his side, like a gunfighter’s, as he waited for Akhenotra to make his next move. He’ll raise his arms over his head and look up, he thought. That’s how he summons the fire; that’s why his face is so scarred.

But what was Alex’s next move? The Book was gone, along with any hope of banishing the Walker. Escape was their only option — but where could they run if The Order was still right outside? Alex felt cornered, desperate.

Luke was just looking for a way out. He’d used his speed to sprint around behind the Walker and was pawing uselessly at the spot where the tunnel entrance had been, but the bare wall offered no handle to pull, no knob to turn.

Alex was sure he could open it. Maybe if they made it back to the tomb above, they could seal the Walker inside … A plan formed: He’d wait for the Walker to raise his hands, hit him with a concentrated spear of wind, and then they’d run.

Instead, Akhenotra’s jaw suddenly dropped open. Flame poured from his open mouth. Alex lurched to the side and tried to fall back out of the way —

“AAAAAAH!” he screamed as he felt the searing flames burn through his shirt and bite into the soft flesh of his left shoulder.

“Alex!” shouted Ren.

He had fallen to the ground. He rolled onto his side and grabbed the wound with his right hand. His skin felt scalding hot and alarmingly wet.

His eyes blurred with tears but he forced himself to look up. Ren had one hand on the stone altar and one hand stretched out toward him, as if trying to pull him safely toward home base in some childhood game. Luke was pounding both fists against solid stone.

Akhenotra walked calmly toward Alex, looming over him. He was speaking, but Alex had dropped his amulet and couldn’t understand him. The temperature in the chamber had soared, and Alex felt on the verge of passing out from the heat and pain.

The Death Walker raised his hands, and fresh flames began to form. Alex allowed himself to look at them this time. For a few merciful moments the hypnotic trance eased the burning in his shoulder, eased the knowledge of the world of pain to come and the oblivion to follow.

He had come halfway across the world: searching for his mom, chasing ghosts, and now it would all end here.

But … There was a noise: a smooth sliding sound from along the wall.

But … The Walker turned toward it, the flames above him flickering.

But … What is it? Alex didn’t understand what was going on, or why he was still alive. And then he raised his head enough to see the passageway opening again and Luke stepping aside to make way.

Tut.