As they descended the dark stairwell, a symphony of small creaks and groans played on the old wooden stairs. The next loud noise made them jump.

WAHhwhuuMMPPP!

The sound echoed up the stairwell. Closer, thought Alex. Definitely closer. His imagination force-fed him images he did not want to see: the beefy Order operative looming above him, slamming the suitcase down; the empty eye sockets of the shriveled mummy on the second floor; the horrors he’d seen back home.

Ren’s smartphone glowed softly in the stairway, Dr. Aditi a touchscreen away. Alex remembered her voice from the brief phone call that day, distracted and upset. She didn’t say what had happened at the British Museum, but he could tell it was bad. Even if they called her right now, he realized as they reached the third-floor landing, there was a good chance she’d arrive too late.

PRRaaaKKK!

The noise rang out in the dark. It sounded like stone or bone. It also sounded like it was coming from the next room.

“You ready?” he whispered.

“Guess so,” answered Ren as they crept toward the low archway leading to a small side room.

In addition to the glow of the EXIT signs, there was a faint glow coming in through the windows, and here and there small bulbs illuminated display cases. A larger bulb washed the flat green surface of a six-thousand-year-old mudstone paint palette. The assortment of lights spawned a web of shadows. The Campbell was quiet during the day but downright spooky at night. They were almost at the archway now. His eyes brushed past a sign that read GALLERY XI: ANIMALS IN THE AFTERLIFE. They could hear another, softer sound coming from within: the raspy, irregular scratch of something being dragged across the wooden floor.

“Wait,” hissed Ren, stopping in front of a small fire extinguisher.

Gladly, thought Alex. He gripped his amulet in one sweaty palm. The old floor felt cool and rough against his bare feet. He watched as the concentration line appeared between Ren’s eyebrows. She carefully sized up the clasps in the dim light and then, with three quick movements, removed the fire extinguisher from its mount.

Wuh-PAAPPP!

The volume removed all doubt: The sound was coming from the next room — and coming toward them!

A scritch like fingernails scraping stone grew louder, just inside the archway. The sound was inhuman — that was no Order operative, Alex realized. What if it was something far worse? What if the Death Walker they were looking for was looking for them? They weren’t prepared yet for a fight like that.

He glanced back at Ren. It was too late to hide, but could they run? As he saw Ren look down and freeze in fear, he understood: It was too late for that, too.

Holding his breath, he followed her gaze:

A pointy tail flicking back and forth.

Four stick-thin legs …

It was a creature with the body of a small animal, but its head was covered in a tangled mass of fractured wood and bent metal, which it was dragging backward through the archway. The strange creature was covered in …

“Oh no,” said Alex as the little beast dragged itself out of the shadows and into the weakly lit room.

“Is that …” Ren began.

“Yeah,” said Alex, backing slowly away. “It’s mummy wrapping.”

The creature paid no mind to the voices behind it, just continued dragging its burden across the floor. After a few more steps, it swung its neck hard against the base of the archway. The wood and metal slammed against the wall with astounding force. The noise rang through the room, and the friends jumped back another step.

“It must’ve tried to back out of its case and gotten stuck,” said Ren, lowering the fire extinguisher. “It’s trying to get its head out.”

Alex loosened his grip on the amulet. The thing wasn’t attacking; it was trapped. The busted remains of a display case wreathed its head. The electric cord of a display lamp wound through the wreckage and wrapped around the creature’s neck.

“What is it?” said Ren. “Did they have Chihuahuas back then?”

Alex shook his head and watched the creature’s long tail flick from side to side as it resumed its backward march. It was nearly hairless and half-wrapped in old linen; it was disoriented from its long sleep and trapped in the remains of its own case. But he knew exactly what it was.

“Cat,” he said. “Sometimes they mummified cats. To take with them to the afterlife.”

The cat mummy was closer now. Alex took another step back, but Ren took a step forward. “Poor thing,” she said.

“Really?” said Alex, but he knew she was serious when he saw the familiar line appear on her brow.

“I may not like all this magic and creepy dead stuff much,” she said, “but I do like cats.” Ren darted forward and knelt down next to the little creature. “Easy, easy,” she said. “Pretty kitty. Don’t smash me.”

Alex could see her fingers trembling as she worked to unfasten an upside-down clasp and untangle the remains of the electric cord.

“Careful!” he said, not only remembering the force with which the creature had swung its case but also eyeing its needle-like claws.

But the ex-cat had frozen at the first touch and seemed to be willing to wait. Did it know Ren was trying to help, or did it just think she was petting it?

“Almost done, little kitty,” said Ren. “Almost free.”

A few tugs and twists later, Ren stood up.

Slowly, tentatively, the little cat tugged its head back. Two large, pointed ears popped free from the wreckage. It turned and looked up at them with eyes that glowed green in the dim room. For just a second, they had a clear view of it — a skinny half-wrapped cat with iridescent eyes.

“It’s sort of …” Alex began.

“Cute,” confirmed Ren.

And it was, in a naked mole rat sort of way. Still, it was weird and spooky — especially in the half-dark room.

“I’ll get the lights,” said Alex, reaching not for the wall but his amulet.

They clicked on above them, flooding the room with light. Alex and Ren blinked a few times, and when they looked back down at the floor, the creepy-cute cat was gone.

Now that, thought Alex, really was spooky.

“Where did it go?” sputtered Ren. “How?”

“It’s a mummy cat, Ren,” said Alex. “Don’t try to make sense of it.”

The cat’s path was clearly marked with periodic dings and dents along the wall. They followed it back to its source: an overturned table and a puddle of glass.

“Somers is not going to be happy about this,” said Ren.

Alex pictured the old man’s flyaway white hair and the dark circles under his wrinkle-wrapped eyes. “I don’t think Somers has been happy since, like, 1963.”

He knelt down and carefully plucked a brass information plaque out of the broken glass. He stood up, turned it over, and read it:

PAI-EN-INMAR, SACRED CAT

FROM THE TEMPLE OF BASTET

BUBASTIS, C. 1730 BC

Alex knew all about Bastet: Part protector and part predator, the cat-headed goddess was both revered and feared in ancient Egypt. His mom had always wanted to get a cat and name it Bastet. And though she’d never said so, Alex knew why she hadn’t: He’d always been more than enough to care for.

Ren stepped over and plucked the plaque from his hands, snapping him back to reality.

“Mine,” she said.

He didn’t argue. She’d definitely earned it.

They cleaned up as best they could and headed back upstairs.

Back in his room, Alex fell into a fitful sleep as the adrenaline surge faded. But he did wake briefly just before dawn, and in those few blurry moments, he could’ve sworn he heard soft, small steps out in the hallway.