With her back against the lion’s pedestal, Zahra headed right, in the opposite direction. She made sure the coast was clear before moving out. After confirming that she was still alone, she hurriedly army-crawled to the far side of the lion and nearly screamed in fright as she came nose-to-nose with Bernie. He was on his back, his empty gaze locked onto Zahra’s face. The older man’s throat had been cut, and he was unmoving, at rest in a pool of his own blood.
Muffled voices echoed throughout the Great Court. Zahra was prone and out in the open. She leaped to her feet and scrambled around Bernie’s body, diving headfirst behind the nearby information desk just as a pair of flashlight beams appeared from around the Reading Room. As the speakers neared, Zahra recognized the outline of rifles.
Zahra growled in anger. She refrained from launching into a crazy, rage-fueled assault. She’d wait for the right opportunity. Then, she’d strike.
Grant Upton was
Grant had become smitten with his superior ever since the day he had met her. At first, he had even thought about asking her out on a date. The ten-year age difference between them didn’t bother him. If anything, it made him want her more. Plus, Zahra looked more like a college student than someone in her early thirties. No one could have guessed she already had so much life experience under her belt.
But Grant had balked at the notion. He was terrified of rejection and losing, not only a close confidant and an irreplaceable mentor, but also his job. Plus, her father was his professor and could flunk him on a whim. Grant loved what he was doing, and he was hoping to be hired on permanently after he graduated next summer. He needed Zahra’s recommendation for that to happen.
He turned away from the black canopic jar and attempted to get his frayed nerves under control. He had been staring at the artifact for some time, trying to figure out how it was the center of everything going on.
With nothing better to do, Grant spun and made his way over to it. He clasped his clammy hands behind his back and leaned in close, inspecting the intricate engravings. He knew a multitude of Egyptian hieroglyphs, but not all of them. In this case, he could understand most of what the writing said, but not all of it.
“It more or less says: ‘the soul of the… of the god-king Anubis… it, um, resides within.’” He stood straighter. “Well,
He turned away from the jar but stopped and flashed back to it. Going against his better judgment, he picked it up and held it up to his face. Grant reread the inscription. He looked up at the blank wall, lost in thought. “The god-
Anubis had never a king. That would imply that he had been human. A god, sure. But not a
He glanced at the office door.
If a secretive ancient society was going through all this trouble to acquire the jar, then maybe the mythos surrounding it were true? At the very least, they believed it was.
Grant snickered at the disillusion. But the ridiculousness of it didn’t make the intruders any less dangerous. It didn’t matter what was true. All that did matter was what they believed.
And it was only a matter of time before they came here to take it.
He cautiously rotated the jar and examined its lid. There was a layer of grime jammed between it and the rim. The sight reminded him of something Zahra had once said. Her parents had never let her open it, and even today, Zahra had yet to open the artifact.
Grant gripped Anubis’s head by its base and pulled, applying consistent, gentle pressure. After adding a touch more effort, the lid came free.
A horrible stench erupted from within, slapping Grant hard in the face. The smell reminded him of a wet, rotting rat. He reeled back in disgust, nearly dropping the family treasure.
Grant gagged and reeled backward. He took a moment to calm himself before continuing his examination of the object. His actions amused him. He wasn’t typically this jumpy. Then again, he’d never been in a life-or-death situation before.
“And now… you are
