Leila swallowed, unable to ease the pain in her chest. She should have seen this coming. Abdullah would have done it anyway, even if he weren’t already dying. It was what he came here to do in the first place. There was no way she could talk him out of his plan: to make sure no one else could ever get their hands on the Greek fire. His life, in exchange for a million others. Was she really going to go along with this?
“Let’s go, then,” she said, her throat burning. She’d make up her mind downstairs, where they didn’t have the risk of getting shot. The question now was how to get there safely. The doorway to the stairs would be in view of Mr. Psycho, if he was still watching closely. Although, it had gone quiet. Too quiet.
Making sure Abdullah was steady against the wall, she inched toward the stairs, stopping before she got too close. Silence.
She slid toward the stairwell, then flattened herself against the wall and stretched out a shaking hand, exposing it to the shooter.
Nothing happened. She glanced at Abdullah.
He nodded and stumbled forward. “Quick.”
She darted onto the top step, expecting another blast to explode behind her. Instead, she heard voices drifting into the tomb. She paused and turned. The front doorway was empty, but the voices continued. Mr. Psycho’s voice. And Xander’s. Her heart dropped. He was here. Who cared about Greek fire? She had to go to Xander. Her gaze locked on the doorway, she started forward. Abdullah grabbed her arm, digging his fingers painfully into her flesh, and she stopped in her tracks.
“Don’t,” he hissed. “Take the hidden exit. Double back.”
She watched the empty doorway, her heart begging to scream out for Xander. But she knew Abdullah was right. Reluctantly, she nodded. It was a better plan than rushing straight out there. With a new sense of urgency, she whirled around and hurried down the first few steps, far enough to be sure the shooter wouldn’t be able to see her. Abdullah limped after her, grimacing with each step, using the wall for balance.
They continued down the stairs, their progress slow. Abdullah refused any more help, shoving her hand away each time she offered it.
She swallowed back the urge to run ahead. Every second meant more danger to Xander. Unless he had already taken care of the problem. Would that be too much to hope?
A few minutes later, they emerged into the lower hall. Using his rifle like a cane, Abdulah limped on, his gaze anchored on the jackal’s head at the other end of the hall. The black box waited in its mouth, sinister, cryptic, beckoning.
Once they passed between the statues, he turned to Leila and shrugged his bag off his shoulders, then untied the sheathed dagger from his waist.
He held everything out to her.
“Use what you need.”
She pulled the strap over her head and stuffed the dagger inside the bag. Then she sucked in a deep breath and nodded. This was it. Their final parting.
Abdullah lifted a hand and pressed something into her palm. Once her fingers wrapped around the object, he released his hold.
She glanced down at her hand, now holding a long bell-shaped piece of bone. The matte sand-colored surface was covered in scratches and dents, the head of a jackal protruding from the top. She turned it over to look at the flat end and traced a thumb over the raised pattern embossed into the surface. The same Medjay symbol she had seen on the seal. She folded her fingers around it.
“As-salamu alaykom,” she said softly.
“Peace be upon you,” he repeated, stone-faced.
She took a few steps back but couldn’t bring herself to turn away. His gaze wasn’t sad, but pained. Weary.
Abdullah’s eyelids slid shut and his body swayed. She thought he might collapse, then he parted his lips to speak.
“Soliman,” he muttered.
Leila frowned. Did he just say what she thought he did?
“Tell Soliman.” He swallowed. “Tell him the scroll is safe.”
Leila’s stomach turned to ice. She stumbled back, dizzied from the thoughts spinning through her mind. He knew Soliman. Soliman knew him?
“What do you mean?” Her eyes searched Abdullah’s ashen face. “What scroll? What does Soliman have to do with any of this?”
“Go,” Abdullah snarled. He turned and limped down the walkway, his path leading straight into the jackal’s mouth.
Her hand tightened around the seal. He was right. There was no time for this. Xander needed her. Now. She spun and glanced back and forth between the two statues. Which one did he mean? The one holding the spear? Or the one holding the scroll?
Her gaze roamed up and down the armed statue, unsure of what she was looking for. Its spear looked to be made of wood and metal, like an actual weapon that could be thrown. But what good would that do her now?
She turned to the one holding the stone scroll and studied its surface. There, at the bottom of the unrolled document, the Medjay seal, slightly depressed in the stone. She stepped forward and traced the engraving. It would fit.
Holding the bottom of the bone seal onto the button, the engravings matching up perfectly. She pushed down and something clicked. Stone grated against stone and the statue slid back, revealing a hidden staircase underneath its base.
With one foot on the first step, she stopped herself. That spear. It might come in handy after all. She ran over to the other statue, grabbed his weapon, then ran back to the staircase. After one last glance at Abdullah’s form stumbling slowly toward the box, she hurried down the steps.
The stairs ended in a square tunnel, the low ceiling forcing her to crouch. Spear in one hand, flashlight in the other, the beam bobbed in front of her. No end in sight. The heat was bearable but her kaftan clung to her torso and limbs, and her hair was heavy with sweat.
This was taking much longer than she thought it would. Or maybe time seemed to be going slower. She had no way to tell.
The passage turned sharply to the left. She continued, the padding of her feet echoing all around her. The floor remained level, not going up or down. Straight through the middle of the mountain. The exit had to be close now. She kept her eyes at the edge of the beam of light, ignoring the thundering of her heart.
There’s enough time.
Abdullah would wait, wouldn’t he? She had no idea on how to judge his injuries, but with all the walking and talking he’d been doing, he probably had some time. Not that he’d want to wait long once he unjammed his rifle. He was probably in a lot of pain. Even he hadn’t been able to hide that.
The beam hit a wall of stone. Leila stopped and panted. Those rocks weren’t there on purpose. The rest of the tunnel walls were smooth and straight, but the wall in front of her was uneven. The ceiling had collapsed.
A fist squeezed around her heart. It couldn’t be blocked. She didn’t have time for that.
Remembering Abdullah’s trick with the hidden ladder at the monastery, she looked up. Like the walls, the ceiling was smooth, no signs of an opening anywhere.
The seal. She set the spear and flashlight down and pulled the pendant out of her pocket. Maybe there was another button.
After slipping the string around her neck, she placed both palms on the wall, looking for the matching seal. Or a hole. Something. She slid her hands up and down the walls and found nothing. Despair twisted in her stomach and she collapsed to her knees, choking on a cry. This couldn’t be happening. Did she take a wrong turn or miss a sign? No, the tunnel had been empty. She would have seen an exit if there had been one.
But giving up was not an option. Xander was out there, possibly fighting for his life. She just had to dig herself out. Fast. Drawing strength from desperation, she pushed herself to her feet and started at the top of the rock pile. Stone clacked down the slope, the pile shifted, but still her path was blocked. Her breaths quickened, her lungs constricting. She kept digging and pulling. Sharp edges grazed her fingers and hands, smearing the stones with red.
An icy flutter brushed against her cheeks. Fresh air. She was getting somewhere. Determination rose in her chest, and she dug furiously at the pile of rocks, until diamonds trapped on a black canvas twinkled down at her. She sucked in a gulp of oxygen, cooling her lungs of the hot, stale air of the tunnel. A few more shoves and pushes and she climbed out of the hole and onto more rock. A jolt of shock surged in her chest. Her heart stopped. Inches away from her feet, the rocks ended. It was a several-hundred foot fall to the valley below. Sending her out this way had been a death sentence.
She gasped in another lungful of air, leaning her torso away from the cliff edge. She could still climb. The path they had taken up the side of the mountain wouldn’t be far. Her arms and legs didn’t want to move, but every second she sat there was a second wasted.
Find Xander and get out of there, you dolt. And maybe do something about the maniac trying to kill us.
She pulled the spear and flashlight from the hole, then tucked the light into her bag and wrapped the spear into the straps. Her gaze roved up the mountain side before her. The only way to go. It didn’t look too steep from this angle. A gradual forty percent incline. Some spots might be tricky, but rocks jutted out—there were plenty to grip.
The moon gave her enough light to see where to place her hands and feet as she climbed. Small bits of rock rolled down behind her, silently disappearing off the side of the mountain. Ignoring the burning in her arms, she pulled herself up and over the last boulder and onto the narrow path they had followed earlier. She slipped the spear out of the straps and held it with both hands twisting around the handle.
No one was in sight, but shouts grew louder as she slunk down the trail. She pressed herself against the wall to stop herself from doing something rash. She wouldn’t be any help if she panicked. Keeping the tip of the spear in front of her middle, she inched along the path until the mouth of the cave was in sight. Dread writhed in her chest as she slowed her steps. The shouts continued. Xander was still fighting. Still alive. They could make it out of here.
A blast came from ahead. Gunfire. Her breath caught, and she swallowed back Xander’s name. She couldn’t give herself away. Then she heard laughter. Maniacal. Demonic. There was no holding it back. She screamed Xander’s name and ran.
“I had big plans for you,” David sneered. “But I think I like how things are turning out, anyway.” He lowered the gun and fired.
White-hot pain tore from Xander’s foot up his leg. Sparks flashed in front of his eyes and, for a moment, it felt as though his body were hurtling through space. He couldn’t tell which direction was up or down until his back slammed against the wall of the cave.
He forced his eyes open and focused on David, who had taken a step closer. A maddened grin had spread over his face.
“Aw, did that hurt? How about another?”
He lifted the gun higher, aiming for Xander’s abdomen, when the cave filled with a deafening roar. The ground shook. Rocks crumbled all around them.
David’s eyes grew wide. Using both hands, he aimed for Xander’s head and slipped two fingers over the trigger. Something whistled through the air. Then came a thud.
Xander wasn’t sure what he was seeing at first. A long staff protruded from David’s stomach. The man dropped the gun, his mouth hanging open. The mountain continued to shake beneath them, as if trying to buck them off.
A hot, violent blast of wind rushed past, and David fell to the ground. The floor broke apart piece by piece, vanishing into a glowing abyss. The moving edge neared his motionless form.
“Xander!” a familiar voice cried out.
Leila. Xander rolled, ignoring the shattering pain that seared in his leg. His pulse raced. He couldn’t see her in the smoke, fire, and falling rock.
“I can’t hold on.” Her voice cracked.
Panic flooding through his veins, he dragged himself toward the voice, until he reached the brim of the brand-new cliff. Just below the edge, Leila held on for dear life. Her eyes were wide, full of terror, her arm muscles visibly straining to keep hold of the rocks that jutted out from the cliff face. Flames and smoke danced a hundred feet below her.
He grabbed her wrist and pulled. The pain sliced up his leg, and he used the surge to tighten his hold on her. She slid over the edge and they collapsed into a heap together as the world shook around them.
All he could do was stare. Was she really there, crying on his chest, a ghost of who she used to be?
In the orange glow of the fire, her skin looked ashen, wet stripes trailing down hollow cheeks.
She was real. She was alive. Her lower lip quivered, a slender hand reached for him.
“Xander,” Leila rasped, snapping him out of his stupor. “There’s no way back. The path is gone.”
He dug his fingers into her tangled hair, her words not registering. The thick and gritty strands felt as though they were those of a stranger. His gaze roved over her face, searching for traces of the woman he’d last seen three months ago in London. His eyes locked on hers, the sandy browns watching him under a shimmering pool.
Her cries stopped when he pulled her toward him and their lips met. Despite the difference in her looks, how weak and desperate she seemed, the taste of dried blood and dust, it was still her, his Leila. Their lips moved in perfect sync, their dance familiar and perfect. He’d missed this so much, the feel of her, the lingering scent of her skin, even through all the grime, the feel of her body. The way she kissed him back. Relentless tears fell down her cheeks and coated their lips in salt, but it didn’t matter. Tears were proof she was alive.
“I’m so sorry,” Leila croaked out the moment they pulled apart for breath. What was left of the mountain continued to shake and crumble.
He ran a thumb beneath her eye to wipe the wetness, glancing away only for a moment. She was right. They were surrounded by flames. David had vanished into the abyss. More chunks of mountain broke off into the fire. Unbelievable. There hadn’t been a volcanic eruption in Egypt for nearly ten years. It was impeccable timing for another one. The cherry on top of this whole ordeal. If the fire didn’t kill them, the smoke or falling ash certainly would.
He locked his eyes on hers again. “Don’t you dare apologize.”
She opened her mouth, probably to do just that, but instead buried her face into his chest, her body shaking. As hard as he had tried, he wouldn’t be able to save her. Not from this. He’d failed. The mountain shook and rumbled, and fire and ash rained down around them. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.