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Evelyn O'Connell still loved the scent of books and the organised air of a well-maintained library, but she had to admit, there was nothing like clearing the last shovelful of sand from the entrance to a long-lost wonder of ancient architecture and stepping inside to behold something new. Selecting and arranging for a dig wasn't quite as simple for foreign archaeologists in Egypt as it had been before the Antiquities Service began exerting greater control over such excavations and their finds, but she did not need to ship tons of artefacts back to England to feel herself well-compensated for her work. She would quite appreciate a little more variation in the throne names she found carved upon her discoveries, however.
"You again," she said, a fondly exasperated smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she traced the carved shape of a three-thousand-year-old cartouche with her fingertips. "Usermaatre-Setepenre."
"The 'look on my works, ye mighty' guy?" her husband asked, voice low and curious in her ear as he scanned the panel of hieroglyphs over her shoulder. Rick had been educated in rather a different school from Evy and her brother, but he'd picked up a scattering of relevant facts over years of following her from one dig to another – mostly, he claimed, in the interests of self-defence.
"Indeed," Evy said, throwing a bright smile his way. "Better known in modern times as Ramesses the Great, he of the hundred or so recorded children and the sixty-seven-year reign. Not that Shelley had seen the statue he was describing when he wrote that poem, but it certainly does set an appropriate tone."
"Oh, that guy," Rick replied, brow furrowing. "Ramesses as in Ramesses II, son of Seti I?"
Most historians would likely describe the second and third pharaohs of the Nineteenth Dynasty the other way round, referring to Seti instead as the father of the second Ramesses; but to a soldier who'd twice fought Seti's resurrected high priest, married to the reincarnation of Seti's daughter Nefertiri, it was perhaps not surprising that Seti's much more well-known son was merely 'that guy' in comparison. "Yes. He embarked on a vast array of building projects during his lifetime, including co-opting the work of previous pharaohs whenever he could get away with it. He had quite the propaganda machine."
"That's one way to put the scandal of what happened to his father behind him, I guess," Rick commented dryly. "Say, he didn't look anything like Jonathan, did he?"
Evy raised an imperious eyebrow at her husband. "Setting aside the implied commentary on my present brother's admittedly somewhat sketchy life choices," she said, "no, he did not. Not that I recall him, exactly; most of the memories I've dreamt so far were focused on the events surrounding my father's death – er, Nefertiri's – Nefertiri's father's that is; oh, you know what I mean. So I have no clear memories of him in ancient times. But his mummy was uncovered in 1881 and unwrapped by Maspero decades ago, so archaeologists do have some idea what he looked like. A strong jaw, an aquiline nose, approximately five foot seven inches in height, and likely a ginger in his youth. Apparently, my siblings and I took after different parents back then as well.”
"Huh," Rick replied, wrinkling his nose. "I don't know why that surprises me. Maybe because it just seems like an awful coincidence for you and Anck-su-namun to both be reincarnated at the same time from the same generation, and none of your other contemporaries."
"Who says we're the only two?" Evy smirked at him. She had her suspicions about one or two of the bodyguards she'd caught glimpses of in her visions of the past, after all. The valley of the Nile had long been a melting pot of the ancient world, sitting as it did at a great crossroads of trading routes and empires; though fairly rare, Rick's blue eyes would have been no more or less unusual in that time and place than his pharaoh's heir's red hair, and Ardeth's looks would have been entirely unremarkable. "But that's beside the point. The ancient kings of Egypt might have liked to portray themselves as the sons of Horus, but they were as prey to the varied strengths and weaknesses of humanity as the rest of us. It wouldn't matter whether Jonathan had once been Ramesses; he'd still be Jonathan."
"Yeah, but wasn't Nefertiri, you know, married to Ramesses?" Rick continued awkwardly, gesturing toward the relief work on the wall below the row of hieroglyphs that had drawn her attention. Ramesses himself was depicted there, offering two bowls of wine to Osiris, amid other scenes of ritualistic importance. "We've been to Abu Simbel; I remember you telling me how unusual it was that the pharaoh's Great Wife was carved at the same size he was at the smaller temple there."
"Oh, it was; but that wasn't me. That was Nefertari, not Nefertiri," Evy laughed, turning fully to face her husband. So that was what had been bothering him. She reached up to thread her arms around Rick's neck, smiling up at him. "I understand the confusion; they mean very much the same thing in ancient Egyptian – the Most Beautiful One – and look very similar written down. But popular names were reused as often then as they are now; Nefertari was the daughter of another noble family."
"Another....? You mean, you weren't always a princess?" Rick replied thoughtfully, settling his hands on her hips. "You'd never know it from all the temples or the legends about Seti's treasure."
She nodded, smiling wryly. "Our grandfather Paramessu was of a noble military family and a former High Priest of Seth; he was in his fifties when Horemheb chose him as his heir and he became Ramesses I, and his son Seti's children were already half-grown at the time. Our elder sister Tia and I were already destined for other roles; she married the overseer of the treasuries, and I was to be a god's wife, hence why I was being trained to protect the bracelet of Anubis. There were probably political reasons behind the choice of Nefertari as Ramesses' Great Wife, not least among them the apparent backlash against the many strong ruling women of the Eighteenth Dynasty who came from within the pharaoh's own family, but the pair of them were apparently lucky enough to find love in it."
"Despite all the other wives and what was it you said, hundred plus children the guy had?" Rick replied, expression softening as he pulled Evy closer, pressing their lower bodies together in delightful fashion. "Pays to be pharaoh, I guess. Sounds kind of lonely for the pharaoh's sister, though. Unless being a 'god's wife' was a little more literal than it sounds?" He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"I couldn't possibly reveal the details of any sacred rituals that might or might not have been enacted in the inner sanctums of the temples," she teased him in faux scandalised tones, combing her fingers lightly through his hair. "But on the subject of loneliness ... do you know, there was no such word as 'virgin' in ancient Egyptian? There were no taboos concerning sex, and no stigma attached to any aspect of carnal relations except for betraying one's spouse. One's mortal spouse, that is."
"Is that so," her husband said, lifting a hand to trace a thumb over her lower lip, eyes darkening with intent. "So if, say, an officer in the king's army were to run across said royal priestess in the halls of the palace...."
"Or ... perhaps a very attentive bodyguard?" Evy flirted back, lightly capturing the thumb with her teeth.
Very little more was said for the next several minutes; and only the nagging awareness that she had not yet finished sketching the reliefs in the chamber and that someone would be there soon to check up on their progress enabled her to bring the ensuing activity to a halt before any significant amount of clothing could be removed.
"Later, darling," she promised Rick as she disentangled herself regretfully. She'd underestimated the effect of finally being alone with her husband on an expedition again, with Alex now away at boarding school and Jonathan off on an adventure of his own somewhere in the far East. Not unappreciated, but perhaps not the best time for it. "Don't forget, the workmen will be back in here soon to clear the next passage, and Ardeth's meant to be arriving sometime today as well."
Rick gave a disappointed groan, but let her pull away, then set about restoring ruffled clothing and hair to some semblance of respectability. "I did try to tell him that no one made it out of that pyramid in Ahm Shere except us, so unless one of his guys plans on digging straight to the Underworld they don't have to worry about Imhotep anymore, but apparently the Medjai guard all the sacred places of Egypt. Several thousand years' worth of history's a long time to stack up curses and powerful artefacts."
"I wonder how they handled all the state sanctioned tomb robbing in the late Twentieth and early Twenty-First Dynasties when the government was running short of funds," Evy mused distractedly as she finished doing up the last of her buttons.
"Very carefully," a dry voice announced, preceding its owner into the chamber. "And usually with at least one knowledgeable priest or member of the Medjai involved, poised to intervene if necessary."
"Ardeth!" Evy cried, turning to their friend to sweep him into a hug. He was dressed relatively incognito that day in a set of dark robes without the elaborate metallic embroidery she'd seen him wear when traveling openly in his role as chieftain of the Twelve Tribes, but she would never mistake him for anyone else. "It's good to see you."
"You as well, Evelyn," he replied, smiling back at her as she pulled away again. Then he held a hand out to her husband. "Rick."
"Ardeth," Rick greeted him, then pulled him in, turning the offered wrist clasp into a back-slapping hug of their own. "Maybe we should make that, 'it's good to see you in the field without the threat of imminent death on our hands'. Unless your presence here means we've got something new to worry about?"
"Only that once may be a coincidence, but twice may be the start of a pattern," Ardeth said, casting Evy an amused look. "The thought was that if I am here, it becomes less likely that there will be a third."
"Yes, well. There were visions involved the last time," Evy replied, primly. "This time we're just digging up yet another example of monumental architecture a certain Ramesses II left scattered about the landscape."
Rick cleared his throat. "Although maybe we should wait until we're done here before anyone starts talking about excuses for activating curses? Just saying. We really could have used you the last time." He nodded to Ardeth.
"Or he might have drowned when the temple flooded, and then where would we have been when Hafez and the others came after us in London?" Evy reminded her husband. "At any rate, we've only just begun to uncover the inscriptions, Ardeth; and don't worry, I'm not about to read them aloud in the original language. I've learned that lesson, at least."
"Small mercies," Ardeth replied with a teasing smile. Then he gestured to the wall. The diggers had cleared the sandstone surface from top to bottom to expose any paintings or carvings that might have been hidden by the debris and damage of passing centuries, though there were still heaps of sand and stone spoil in the centre of the chamber. They'd be clearing that later as well, putting it through a sifter with all the rest of the debris, looking for left-behind fragments of jewellery, ritual objects or ostraca. "But please, do not let me stop you. I'm only here to observe."
Evy could think of another activity she'd gladly have him observe; but she had become used to that intrusive awareness of his charm over the years and had long determined never to let it interfere with either her marriage or their friendship. At least, not unless one of the two men brought it up first! And in any event, the friendship they'd all three built in fits and starts – in fleeting meetings at the Museum of Antiquities or the terrace of Shepheard's or various other watering spots during previous seasons – was worth cherishing just as it was. If he'd followed them to those more ordinary digs in the years between Imhotep's awakenings, or had them followed by other Medjai, he'd never let on; but anytime he'd learned they were in the country, he'd still found time to touch base. There couldn't have been many outside his own people with whom he'd been able to share the full truth of his identity, she'd concluded at the start; but whatever the actual reason he'd kept in contact with them, Ardeth Bay had gone from treating them with reluctant respect to a warm wry fondness over the years, and she and Rick felt much the same. Now that they'd the chance to spend more time together, she rather looked forward to further developments, wherever they might lead.
"If you insist," she grinned at him, then began casting about, looking for the notebook she'd dropped when she'd become ... distracted. "Let me just ... ah. There it is." She picked it up, flipping to a new page, and retrieved her pencil from the pocket of her trousers. "Now, where was I...."
"Aaaand we've lost her," she heard Rick chuckle as she refocused on the inscriptions, intent on carefully reproducing each panel on the page for later analysis. She'd have photographs taken as well, of course, but the shadows and limited perspective also captured by modern technology still sometimes rendered such images less clearly than she'd like. Then footsteps echoed behind her as he and Ardeth moved back toward the entryway.
"Hey, let me ask you something. Is it true that there's no such word for 'virgin' in ancient Egyptian?"
Evy bit her lip, amused, at the startled "Why do you ask?" from their friend; perhaps she wouldn't have to wait so long for one of them to bring matters up, after all. Then she tuned out their banter to refocus on her sketching, determined to finish the day's allotted work as soon as reasonably possible.
At some point, Ardeth must have left the still half-buried structure to convey his plans to his people, because when they returned to the encampment that evening there was only one new tent standing alongside theirs. Not that there was ever a great deal of solitude on a proper dig, as opposed to the rather hasty preparations Evy and Rick had made when her dreams had driven her to look for the bracelet of Anubis, but it was much easier to invite a favoured guest into one's quarters for a private meal when one did not also have to make accommodation for an unknown number of additional Medjai.
They kept a separate tent for preserving and examining artefacts; their own living quarters were halved by a wall of heavy canvas, creating a space for sleeping and another for social gathering and storing many of the personal tools and research volumes Evy had deemed it necessary to bring. After that first impulsive trip to Hamunaptra a decade before, full of knowledge and theories but very little experience or qualified assistance, she'd decided to never again risk arriving at an excavation site so drastically undersupplied; she preferred taking the train or renting a dahabeah over boarding another of Cook's steamers to their destinations these days, and when on a lengthy dig she liked to stay as close as possible to the centre of activity. Having Rick along made that easier; after his years in Cairo, both as a child and during the years between his escape from Hamunaptra and encounter with Jonathan in that casbah, he spoke the modern languages of the area more familiarly than she did, and she was able to leave much of the hiring and management of the crew to him, freeing her to concentrate on discovery.
There would have been much less danger in her life if she had not decided to investigate Jonathan's mysterious puzzle box all those years ago and traced its owner to that prison in Cairo, but while it might have been safer, it would also have been a much smaller life, missing much of its joy and fulfilment. Rick had helped Evy to become her best self, as she hoped she had also done for him; apart from the occasional difference of opinion, usually quite pleasantly resolved, their partnership was everything she could have ever wished for. But while their marriage lacked nothing to make it complete ... that did not mean there was no room for additional pleasure to be had. Such as, just for example: eating a meal seated in flimsy wooden folding chairs around a table created from packing crates in the company of a dear friend, embedded in the long history of the ancient country they all three at heart called home.
Conversation was light and chiefly focused on the weather and their recent respective travels as they ate, but once they finally pushed the plates aside and Rick poured them all an after-supper coffee – she might have preferred tea in England, but often yielded to local habit in the field – the last of the tension of a long and hungry day's work was banished from the tent, and Evy turned a bright smile toward Ardeth.
"So how have you really been since Ahm Shere?" she asked. Those had been hectic and distressing days for them all; she hadn't been sleeping well even before Alex had activated the bracelet of Anubis, and the ensuing seven-day chase from the streets of London to the headwaters of the Blue Nile had stressed everyone involved to their limits. That they were all still there to talk about it a year later – her brief inadvertent visit to the Field of Reeds aside – was miraculous; but there had been other consequences in plenty, and the cost had probably fallen heaviest on the Medjai after their desperate fight against the army of Anubis. They had exchanged several letters since, of course, but it was hard to really gauge a person's emotional wellbeing at such a remove unless they were far more poetic writers than any of the men in Evy's life happened to be. "You said you've been busy...?"
Ardeth nodded, brow furrowed with serious thought. "Yes. It has been a very hectic ten years, and though one of the most serious threats the Medjai have guarded for the last three millennia has finally been laid to permanent rest, there are many others, and modernisation threatens more of them every year. I have been training one of my younger cousins; one whose roots are more fully in this new era."
"You're thinking about retiring?" Rick said, tone rich with disbelief, raising his eyebrows as he added a little something extra to both his cup and hers from a flask. "Gotta say, I don't see even one grey hair in that beard. If we're not old yet, you're definitely not. Has someone been implying you're not up to the job because Imhotep got out on your watch – again? 'Cause if so, I'll gladly tell them otherwise."
"Once may be a coincidence, but twice may be the start of a pattern?" Ardeth repeated himself, flashing an amused grin at her husband. "No; our people know exactly where the blame for that lies. But as I said – it has been a very hectic ten years, and I am not exactly young anymore, either. The wounds from that battle took some time to heal, and I have not the heart for the cause that I once did."
That could imply many things, Evy thought, taking a long sip. Ardeth had lost much at Ahm Shere, including the hawk he'd referred to as a best friend and many of his men; no one could blame him for wishing to finally lay down his sword. But he'd also never wed nor had children, as far as she was aware; if he had acquired a new priority of that sort, then his heart would naturally lie elsewhere, not with 'the cause'. And he was here. On a very ordinary dig, with only a vaguely stated reason for keeping the infamous O'Connells company.
"Well, I'm certain the Medjai will be in good hands either way," she said, smiling softly at him. "And in the meantime, we'll be glad to offer you a refuge while you protect the world from the spectre of whatever threat a reincarnated princess and her bodyguard may unleash next."
"Insha'Allah," he agreed, fine lines crinkling warmly around his eyes as he saluted her with his cup.
"Well, yeah, what she said," Rick agreed, joining the toast. "I might not have been willing to give up following Evy around to join the Medjai full-time, whatever my tattoo says, but people in this country have apparently been throwing around world-ending magic for more than five thousand years and it's still here. You guys obviously know what you're doing. Whatever you choose to be doing."
"Quite a change from your sentiments at our first meeting," Ardeth replied, grin deepening.
Rick chuckled. Evening had swallowed the sands outside in shadow as they ate; the flickering light of the kerosene lanterns now gilded his features in bright warmth, a complement to the emotions filling Evy as she watched the pair converse. "It would have been hard for us to make a worse first impression, wouldn't it. You know, sometimes I wonder how different my life might have been if my mother's brother had never come for me after my parents died; if I would have seen more of your people growing up than just that one meeting if I'd stayed in Egypt. Maybe I might still have been there that day, just on the other side of things." He tapped a finger against the leather bracer that covered his tattoo.
"I notice you don't speculate as to whether or not I would still have been there," Evy added primly. "You think someone would still have brought the key out of Hamunaptra for me to find?"
Rick shrugged, looking annoyingly smug. "The garrison I was with would have marched across Egypt looking for the City of the Dead whether I was along for the ride or not, and given where I found it, someone would have picked up the key that day. Probably Beni. And he'd probably have tried to sell it or got his pocket picked in Cairo sooner or later just like I did; from there the story pretty much writes itself. There's no universe where you saw that thing and didn't land yourself in the exact same trouble."
"Well, perhaps not the exact same trouble," she had to reply, pointedly raking her eyes over his handsome frame. "If you think I'd ever have let that little weasel kiss me...."
Ardeth made an amused, appreciative noise. "It is a wondrous thing, when destiny and inclination converge. Frequently explosive. But always extraordinary. I have no doubt you would still have found your way to one another."
"Only the journey's written, not the destination, huh?" Rick said wryly, gaze lingering on Ardeth's face. "I remember. Though I gotta ask; it's been bugging me ever since you said it on our way to Ahm Shere. Alex, Evy and I were supposed to be the three sides of the pyramid? Triangles might have three sides; but every damn pyramid I've seen in Egypt has four faces."
"Not counting the base," Evy pointed out. Her husband was right; from the Step Pyramid of Djoser – designed by the architect Imhotep, first known bearer of that infamous name – down through the ages to the Great Pyramid of Khufu and the now-ruined cenotaph pyramid constructed for Ahmose I at the beginning of the New Kingdom era, every example she could think of had been built with a square foundation, theoretically both for stability and to align them with the cardinal directions. "It's all right to point out that we wouldn't have made it without you either, you know." She smiled cheekily at Ardeth.
"Now or the first time around," Rick agreed, expression falling into more contemplative lines. "Evy tells me she doesn't think she and Anck-su-namun were the only two to come back from Seti's court. And I have to admit, since we returned from Ahm Shere, I've had a few dreams myself. Nothing as in-depth as hers, mostly just glimpses of trailing the princess around wearing a lot less than usual; I'd put them down to wishful daydreams. But if they're real – I'm not alone in those, either."
"I had wondered if you were aware," Ardeth admitted, not denying the hint. "You seemed so resistant to the influence of the past during our journey. But that is why you received the tattoo; why I became chieftain, out of all my father's sons. Among the Medjai, it has always been known that for those who did not achieve ritual immortality in death--" he gestured in the direction of the temple they were excavating and the mortuary complex beyond it, "--and were not consumed by Ammit, they might choose to remain in the cycles of rebirth until such time as their purpose was reached and they achieved immortality in name instead. Many of our people have returned to us over the years, and our seers know the signs to look for. But Evelyn and the woman known as Meela Nais – they were a surprise to us."
Evy had wondered how that worked, given that physical rebirth was not a documented feature of ancient Egyptian religious belief. "I can see why royal reincarnations might be rare in that case, given the usual extensive burial practices. I'm guessing that means there's very little chance of ever discovering my own original tomb," she said, sighing. That had been somewhere in the back of her mind lately, half-hoping she'd one day find some evidence of her ancient identity in the historical record on one of her digs. Not that she thought she'd got the worst of the deal; if Nefertiri had taken no husband and had no children in that lifetime, choosing to return with those she did care for most was ideal, as far as Evy was concerned.
"Just as well. With our luck, it would definitely have been cursed," Rick snorted.
The lanterns chose that moment to flicker in a dramatic fashion as the heavy canvas of the tent rustled around them; all three of them reflexively glanced toward the tent flap, then shook themselves and chuckled, exchanging wry glances. Instinct hard-earned would take some time to abate.
"I don't think either of you need be concerned about not having achieved your purpose in this lifetime," Ardeth added.
"Any of us," Evy corrected him, shaking her head. "You fought off the Army of Anubis long enough for Rick and I to do our part, which is apparently more than anyone had ever managed before. I think you've more than earned your retirement, in any sense of the word."
"Yes, well." Ardeth turned his attention to the depths of his empty cup for a moment, as if seeking some resolve there; then he sighed and glanced toward the flap of the tent and set the cup down on the table. "Speaking of retiring. It grows late; I will see you in the morning?"
Evy felt unaccountably disappointed; it had felt as though they were building toward something that evening, a new closeness, only to be cut short by the hour and the tension-breaking gust of wind. But she was getting ahead of herself; Ardeth had only just arrived, hadn't he? He was there. And would remain there, or so he had implied, at least for the length of the dig. There would be time. "I cannot promise a luxurious breakfast, but what there is we will gladly share," she told him.
"I look forward to it," he replied, rising to his feet and inclining his head in acknowledgement. Rick stood with him, briefly clasping his arm, then followed him as he began to leave, obviously intending to secure the tent flap again after him. But both of them stopped short at the threshold between the rugs they'd laid down for flooring and the packed sand outside, staring in the direction of Ardeth's tent.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, frowning over at them.
Rick looked back over his shoulder, a strange expression on his face, staring toward the lantern that had flickered. "You don't think, maybe...." he suggested, slowly.
"Surely not," Ardeth answered, equally slowly. "Unless something happened before I arrived...?"
"Unless what?" Evy interrupted sharply, the last of her relaxed mood dissipating. She set down her own cup and followed the men to the opening of the tent, craning around Ardeth's other shoulder to behold ... a bare expanse of sand. "Wait. Wasn't that where your tent was?"
Rick turned slowly, taking in the rest of the encampment. "The excavation tent's still there; so's the cook tent, and the crew quarters ... I can hear Samir and his oud from here, so if something did happen it doesn't seem to have spooked anyone else."
Ardeth followed his gaze, frowning, then glanced down at the sand at his feet and winced. "Ah," he said in resigned, amused tones, stooping to retrieve a satchel about the size of a saddlebag. "No, I don't believe curses had anything to do with it. Apart from the blistering my cousin's ears are sure to receive the next time our paths cross."
"Wait. Your kid pranked you?" Rick raised his eyebrows at him.
Evy eyed the satchel again, estimating how much in the way of clothing or other necessary supplies it was likely to contain, or not as the case may be; then Ardeth again, remembering what he'd said about how chieftains of the Medjai were chosen. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth before a giggle could burst out. His cousin obviously knew something; it had probably come up when discussing his own reason for being chosen, and it seemed he'd decided it was time for Ardeth to act upon it.
Ardeth sighed, adopting a long-suffering expression, and nodded. "So it would seem. I suppose I can sleep in the excavation tent tonight and see about remedying matters first thing in the morning."
"Or," Evy interrupted him, voice trembling with the effort to keep holding back her laughter, "you could simply sleep here, after he's gone to such effort. In the outer room, if you must; I do realise this is all somewhat abrupt. But we've been talking around this all evening. You remember too, don't you, Akhom?"
Ardeth swallowed, holding her gaze as her use of the ancient name registered; his eyes were deep and dark, and in them she saw a well of emotion three thousand years deep, setting butterflies fluttering instantly in her stomach. "I do."
Rick glanced between them, brow furrowed briefly in confusion; then his eyes widened. "Oh. You mean--"
"Just how little were the pair of you wearing in those wishful daydreams of yours?" Evy asked her husband, voice warm, as she kept her eyes on Ardeth's.
"Depending on the context," he said hoarsely, reaching out to take the bag from Ardeth's hand and resecure the tent flap in front of them, "quite a lot less, actually."
"Well, then?" Evy said, holding out an imperious hand.
Ardeth took it, briefly lifting it to his lips, then smiled, a bright flash that crinkled the fine lines around his eyes and lit them from with, waking an answering heat at Evy's core. "I had intended a period of courtship," he said, "for as much as the past influences our present, none of us are truly who we once were. And yet, I find I am not surprised."
"Well, what else would you call the last decade?" Rick chuckled, tossing the bag toward the table and then moving toward them both. He reached to brush a thumb over Evy's lips first as if in reassurance, then turned to Ardeth, tracing his eyes hungrily over the other man's face as if looking his fill at long last. "I did always think it was weird, you know, how quickly we went from trying to kill each other to fighting back-to-back. When I thought you'd died sacrificing yourself to give us time at Hamunaptra, I felt gutted and didn't understand why. I guess you must have thought I was an idiot on the airship last year, trying to hint at me about 'the missing piece of your heart.'"
Ardeth gave him a crooked smile. "The first time you left the City of the Dead, stumbling out into the sand alone with your garrison slain behind you, my people were watching from the cliffs. One of the other chieftains asked if we should kill you. I should have agreed, but then you turned back to look, and I told him to let the desert have you instead. I couldn't have said why at the time, either. The dreams began not long after Hamunaptra fell into the sands, but I could not be certain they were more than wishful daydreams myself until the day I saw your tattoo."
"What's that you said," Rick replied softly, "it's a wondrous thing, when destiny and inclination converge?" Then he reached out to anchor a hand on Ardeth's shoulder and leaned in for a kiss.
Evy's breath came short watching them relearn one another's mouths: the contrast of Rick's blue linen shirt against Ardeth's dark robes and Ardeth's beard and tattoos against Rick's smooth tanned face complementary to their nearly matching heights and equally muscular frames. And all the while, Ardeth was still holding onto one of her hands, rubbing a callused thumb over her pulse point. It made her desperately want to be between them. And feel that they were wearing altogether too many clothes.
She bit her lip, waiting until they finally came up for air, then tugged with the captured hand. "Good thing we sprang for the straw-stuffed mattress this time rather than camp beds," she said breathlessly. "Shall we retire to the other room then, gentlemen? I find myself curious just how far down those tattoos go."
The men exchanged another charged glance; then Rick smiled, slow and sure. "Sounds like a plan to me," he said. "You gonna show the lady?"
"Far be it from me to deny any pleasure of hers," Ardeth replied.
"Go on, then; I'll get the lanterns."
It seemed only moments later that Evy found herself sprawled on the bedding, removing the last of her foundation garments, watching the pair of them undress. It felt like this had been so very long in coming, after all the times they had met up over the years and all the perils they had faced together. The journey may have been written, but this destination they had chosen for themselves. And yet, she suspected it would not have felt the same if they had done this for the first time in any place other than the red land that had been such a focal point of all three of their lives.
Ardeth's tattoos did indeed go all the way down, she soon discovered: lines of hieroglyphs proclaiming his dedication to the gods and the protection of his people trailing down his torso. It made her mouth dry in an unexpected way, to see the sacred writing in ink on flesh and blood rather than carved or painted on walls or historic objects: a living treasure. She couldn't help but trace her fingers over them as he joined her on their makeshift bed, anticipating the further joys to come.
"This feels so familiar and yet brand new all at once," she murmured. "I don't know how much more happiness I can contain."
"That sounds like an experiment worth testing," Rick teased, shucking the last of his clothes as he watched with a warm, hungry gaze.
"Do you always talk so much in bed?" Ardeth teased back, glancing between them both.
"You'll just have to make us shut up, then," Evy replied, and reached up to guide his mouth to where it was wanted most.
As momentous as the evening before had felt, the morning after was oddly domestic, like any other save for one more body to manoeuvre around during their morning ablutions. Perhaps it was simply that there was no correspondence for those moments in the scraps of ancient memory they had each recovered; for all that the long-ago princess and her Medjai bodyguards had been free to share their hearts and their bodies, they would never have been able to fully share their lives. Waking up to Rick's morning breath and Ardeth's bed head was an experience that was just hers, not an echo from the life of Nefertiri. Evy found herself surprisingly content with that.
The crew gave them a few wry looks over breakfast but were overall very respectful of Ardeth; she had no doubt they knew who he was, by the robes and tattoos if not by name or face. Perhaps he had never followed them to her digs before because he'd never needed to; if Evy had been in charge of a millennia-old organisation charged with keeping the sins of one's forefathers' pharaohs from causing havoc in the present, she'd have had men in with all the crews commonly hired by archaeologists as well, not to mention related professions, such as curator at the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo. She'd never asked Terrence Bey's successor if he was one of the Medjai as well; but then, her acquaintance with the man hadn't lasted very long. Just long enough to pick up the belongings she'd left behind there, really; given the incident in the library and the vast change of perspective introduced by the interlude at Hamunaptra, she hadn't tried to argue with him when he'd indicated she would not be welcome to resume her position there. She was probably lucky he hadn't badmouthed her to the Antiquities Service when she'd begun her archaeological career the following winter.
Adventure was one thing in the heat of the moment; as she'd told Rick when they'd first met, it was in her blood. It was during the adrenaline let-down afterward that details which had seemed insignificant in the moment often assumed much greater importance. Evy hadn't regretted her actions then, though, and she didn't regret them now. And now as then, she was confident the consequences would be worth the risks. She watched her husband and their lover banter over their plates of breakfast with a full heart and moved on to her next tasks content that they felt much the same.
She'd finished sketching and photographing the walls in the entry chamber the evening before, so she had decided to spend the morning in the excavation tent, sifting baskets of sand as they were brought out and examining any artefacts that might be found amidst the debris. The building they were excavating had no doubt sat flat and exposed atop the bedrock once, but time, wind, and the various passages of conquering armies had long since resulted in its abandonment to the desert. Likely to both its benefit and hers; most of the gold and other materially valuable objects would no doubt have been taken and repurposed in antiquity, but the stones used in its construction would have been valuable as well, given the distance to the mines and expense of cutting and exporting new stone in later eras. So many monumental constructions had come down to the present only as the rubble of their foundations. There may have been some damage of that kind here – there was some evidence of stone-cutting at the entrance, and there may prove to be more further back, she wouldn't know for certain until they uncovered more of the structure – but only of the most cursory kind so far; she'd been thrilled to see intact walls with visible inscriptions when she'd finally been able to enter.
Rick found that kind of work boring and rarely stayed with her during such tasks, choosing to take part in more active areas of the dig, but Ardeth followed her in that morning, taking up a station at her side. "It surprised me, as a young man, to discover how much of this work actually involves any degree of risk," he observed, picking up a shattered curving fragment of a pot to turn it over in his hands. It was recognisably New Kingdom ware; probably left over from the building's original use.
"Very little of it, actually," she agreed with a wry twist of her mouth. "My first experience in the field perhaps prejudiced my assumptions in that regard as well. But I was a librarian first, you know. I may have hung on my mother's stories about legendary artefacts like the Book of Amun-Re and the Black Book of the Dead when I was a small child, but it was for the knowledge they represented, not really the fact that they were treasure, whatever my brother's interest in them might have been. I must have read my father's copy of Amelia Edwards' A Thousand Miles Up the Nile a dozen times over the years, poring minutely over every detail of description and every illustration, daydreaming about the day I might follow the same path and make my own discoveries. Working at the Museum in Cairo was meant to be my first step on that path, but I did enjoy it for its own sake."
"I am sure Ms. Edwards meant well," Ardeth replied dryly, "but like many other foreigners who published their experiences in this country, she brought a flood of others after her, many of whom have run afoul of the Medjai over the years."
"Well, without her, my father might never have met my mother at all, and then where would we be? Ah! Don't say it." Evy gave him a pert look. "At least these days any artefacts that are discovered are more likely to stay in Egypt, and I need not chip the texts off the walls to preserve their images and appreciate their meaning. Hopefully your cousin will have less work to do in the years to come."
"Perhaps," he said, then paused in interest as another object came to the surface of her sifting. "Another piece of pottery?"
Evy shook more sand away, then picked up the revealed item, turning it about carefully in her hands. It was actually a complete vessel, just large enough to fit within one palm: made of terracotta, with some relatively simple decorative work, a vertical ring at one end for the fingers of the user, a spout at the other, and a small hole in the middle. "Of a sort. Much newer than the other, though; it looks like an oil lamp, probably from a much later period. Nothing to worry about. Tourists or thieves likely left it behind. Like us, I suppose, only centuries ago; Roman era, if I had to guess, though I'll examine it more closely later to confirm. Egypt really is one of the major crossroads of the world."
"So it has always been; so it shall always be," Ardeth shrugged, smiling at her.
"I suppose the Medjai would know all about that," she replied, smiling back. Then she bit her lip again, thinking as she set the oil lamp aside and began on the next basketful of sand. "Have you thought about what you want to do after you're officially retired?"
He gave her a pointed look, and she laughed. "You know what I mean. Will you stay in Egypt? Rick and I will probably go back to England in the spring; Alex has started at school, and we'll want to be at home while he's on break. And perhaps look in on Jonathan, depending on what adventure he's stuck his nose into by that time. But we'll be back again in the fall, whether I get another concession or not. Maybe to finally take the slow way up the Nile from Cairo to the Second Cataract, like I dreamed about as a child. I think I can talk Rick into it. But I don't like to make assumptions on others' behalf."
Ardeth looked out the open side of the tent into the distance, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'll need to return to my people at least for a time, to complete my cousin's training. There are histories to be shared, and rituals; it is a sacred obligation. But when the cooler weather returns.... Yes, perhaps." He smiled at her again. "It has been a long time since I had the leisure to be a tourist in my own country."
She grinned at the thought. "We can rent a dahabeah for the whole journey, set you up on deck with a sunshade, a lounging couch and all the figs and konafa your heart desires. Nothing to do but take in the scenery and indulge in all the benefits of three partners with only one bed between them when the sun goes down. If that's something that appeals to a former chieftain of the Medjai, of course."
"It's something that appeals to me, regardless of whether any other chieftains of the Medjai would approve," Ardeth said, a smouldering heat rising in his gaze. "Though I have to ask what you expect your husband to be doing during this leisurely journey."
Evy shook her head, chuckling. "Probably scrutinising every location we dock for threats and remembering aloud every stop we made on the quest for Ahm Shere," she admitted. "Which reminds me. There wasn't time to worry about it while we were tracking Alex, but I have to ask. How much do you know about how ancient curses adapt to the passage of time? I hadn't thought about it much before, but our adventure in tracking Alex made it impossible to ignore. The bracelet of Anubis was obviously forged long before I became its guardian, back in pre-dynastic times, but the places it took us to on the way to Ahm Shere included the temple at Karnak, the temple island of Philae, and the temples of Abu Simbel. Two of those saw their most significant construction during the New Kingdom, and most of the landmarks at Philae were built much later, during the Ptolemaic period. But the bracelet guided Alex to all three of those locations on the way to Ahm Shere, an entirely magical oasis. It made me wonder...."
She trailed off there, but by Ardeth's sympathetic expression, the inference was clear enough. "Whether your parents really did fall afoul of a curse, or whether the deaths were all the result of a toxic fungus, as the more modern scientific explanations would have it," he concluded.
She nodded. "Perhaps it's silly of me to ask. But I thought if anyone would know...."
Ardeth shook his head. "I have no answers for you, Evelyn. It is likely there were precautions taken in the tomb your father opened; certainly, there were protective inscriptions. But no specific lore came down to the Medjai about it. It was built before our formal histories began during the reign of Nefertiri's father, when Imhotep's actions and ultimate fate altered ours, and only the most notable items, like the bracelet, were well-remembered enough to make it into those records. The gods of Egypt became much less active after the fall of the last dynasty, but they have seen a resurgence since the discovery of the stone at Rashid and the decipherment of their ancient dedications."
"I suppose that explains why Imhotep had so much trouble fighting the Scorpion King, at least; Anubis was more powerful in supporting his champion than he had expected him to be," Evy decided, making a face at the memory of that confrontation. The result had been to put Rick on more equal ground with his opponents, giving him the fighting chance they needed; but Anubis' resurgent strength had also nearly overwhelmed the Medjai guarding the oasis from the outside.
"Ooh. Speaking of religious matters," she continued, distracted. Another object had surfaced, a small clay amulet deeply carved on both sides. On one side Osiris stood before a bird; on the other, the symbol for Ma'at was depicted twice followed by an ankh, meaning 'Life to the eternal truth.' She looked up at the man beside her, with the Ma'at tattoos on both his cheeks, and showed it to him.
"So it has always been, so it always shall be?" she teased him, brightly.
"You begin to think like a Medjai," he teased back. Then he reached for the next basket and helped her begin sifting anew.
There were few other notable objects uncovered during the rest of that morning, but Ardeth remained at her side until they joined Rick and the remainder of the crew for the mid-day break, then switched to work with him on the sand clearing project in the late afternoon while Evy resumed sifting. From the progress they reported, it sounded as though she'd be able to take a preliminary look at the walls of the next chamber the following morning, but there was nothing particularly notable about them, only more of the same. That was all right; Evy already foresaw months' worth of work writing all her notes up for publication once the season was up, however unexciting the details might be to the others.
And once the sun was down, they retired back to their private tent and continued the other sort of exploration they had begun the night before. Evy was very glad she was able to avoid wearing proper ladies' clothing when in the field, because that would involve far too many layers to remove, and she was impatient enough as it was. Ten years into a marriage, with an eight-year-old son, and she might as well be embarking upon a second honeymoon! It was intoxicating, invigorating, altogether inspiring, and probably far more interesting to Rick than most of her other excavations over the last decade or so, however much he might pretend interest in the work for her sake.
She woke late in the middle of that second night together, curled between the pair of them; satisfied and full at heart, but too awake to easily slip back into dream. She contemplated the silence for a moment, then carefully extricated herself from between them and unearthed a shift and robe she could throw on for basic decency before tiptoeing slowly through the darkened tent to reach the sands outside. There was a slight rise behind the excavation site, a hill that overlooked the immediate area; it fairly glowed in the reflected light of the full moon, and she picked her way slowly up the path that led to its crest until she could see the glint of the River of Life in the distance.
A turn of the head, and the mountains of the West Bank were visible behind her; they would be rose pink in the sunrise, dominated by the pyramidal peak of El Qurn, which had been known as Meretseger to the ancient Egyptians, 'She Who Loves Silence.' Hymns had been written to her, and shrines dedicated to her as the resting place of the ancient kings of Egypt; it was unlike anything she'd ever seen in her father's country. Five thousand years of civilisation had played out here, between the black lands and the red: between the realms of the living and of the honoured dead. She would likely never excavate in the Valley of the Kings or any of the great famous mortuary complexes, but she had seen Belzoni's tomb where Nefertiri's father had been buried and walked through the Ramesseum where the statue that had inspired Shelley's poem had been found. She had stood at the base of the Great Pyramids and felt dwarfed by their bulk ... and dwelt in a vast crumbling manor in a far cooler country, from whence a much younger people had come looking for meaning. The contrast could make her feel so small and irrelevant if she let it. But mostly she just felt wonder: so vast a world, to have such amazing things in it.
She felt more than heard Rick come looking for her; she leaned over into his warmth as he arrived, heaving a content sigh as he wrapped his arms around her. Then Ardeth showed up, stifling a yawn behind one hand, and stretched out on the sand, pillowing his head in her lap. She chuckled softly, weaving her fingers into his hair, then let her own eyes drift half-closed, basking in their comfort.
"Look on my works, ye Mighty," Evy murmured, quoting the poem Rick had reminded her of.
Rick chuckled and held her close until the howl of distant jackals finally broke the spell and sent them all back to the tent for the remainder of the night.
"So, we're keeping him," Evy's husband murmured to her the next day, keeping her company again as she copied down the inscriptions in the newly exposed second chamber.
It was clearer there that this had been some sort of religious structure; though likely a repurposed one, as she could tell that some of the stone under the cartouches had been chiselled clear at some point and carved deeper before being incised with Ramesses II's throne name. Perhaps one begun under his father or grandfather, or one of the kings of the Amarna period; he had reigned far longer than either of the former, and the latter had been overwritten as much as possible in the historical record by subsequent pharaohs. The propaganda machine at work yet again.
It was interesting how much Osiris was emphasised here as well; normally, Amun-Re was featured as chief deity in all works in which Ramesses the Great had had a hand. Perhaps another intentional correction after his father's favourite High Priest had gone down in infamy, as with the retreat of the worship of Aten after the reign of Akhenaten and Nefertiti? Likely they would never know, but she was still fascinated by that period of history and always would be.
"Of course we are," she murmured back, rolling her eyes. "I don't think I've ever seen you this content on a 'boring' dig. Unless there is some other objection you have yet to mention?"
Rick snorted. "You know, I don't think I ever told you what I was actually arrested for, back in Cairo the week we first met," he replied, obliquely.
"A 'very good time', at least according to our unfortunate friend Hassan," she reminded him, then gave him a sly look. "You didn't strike me as a hardened criminal, so I'm afraid I drew certain conclusions from that." Morality offenses weren't an official reason for hanging at the time, but an American soldier in Egypt, likely drunk and frequently combative in the aftermath of losing his entire garrison out in the desert? They might have eagerly seized on that history as an excuse if they had discovered him, just as an example, in flagrante with another unclothed man.
He laughed. "Yeah, whatever you imagined, you were probably right. I adore you, and I always have; I think you know that. But the fact that you feel the same way I do about Ardeth? As far as that goes, trust me, I'm thanking my lucky stars. I'm just wondering if we need a strategy for what we tell Alex about it. Not to mention your brother."
"Jonathan has no room to talk," Evy snorted, remembering the knickers they'd found draped over the furniture on their return to England with the Bracelet of Anubis. Technically, it might be as much his house as hers, even if she and her family were the ones to actually live there most of the time – scion of a posh landed family or not, Jonathan's experiences in the Great War and afterward had left him a little disinclined to stay in any one place for very long – but generally he tried to keep his more licentious behaviour away from Alex. "Which I'll remind him of, if he ever dares say a word. But you know Alex; he won't care. He's probably more upset with us for sending him to school than he ever could be about 'Uncle Ardeth' taking a more permanent position in our lives."
"You're probably right," Rick said, wrapping his arms around her again and bracing their foreheads together. "Just in case I haven't said it recently: I love you, you know. Not because of Nefertiri-you, either, though we've certainly had some fun with that lately. Not just because of ancient-Medjai me, either. Rick O'Connell the former legionnaire with a rather sketchy past, and Evelyn Carnahan, the cheeky librarian with the heart of an explorer."
"Your hand in my hand," she quoted back softly; the poem was more than three thousand years old, but the feeling it captured was eternal. "My soul inspired, my heart in bliss, because we go together."
"Exactly," he said, capturing her mouth in a kiss.
This time, she suspected Ardeth had intervened to keep everyone else away, because they got considerably further than a little disarrayed clothing before she recollected herself and returned to the inscriptions.
The next several days passed in much the same fashion, the mundane nature of the work and the extraordinary nature of their personal lives working in tandem as the structure was gradually uncovered. Parts of the upper layers did appear to be missing as they worked further back through the rooms; more sand and debris had got in through those gaps, increasing the time it took to shore up the remaining walls and fragments of roofing before they could examine the rest of the interior. The work was further delayed when they discovered a square pit in one of the rooms; whether a burial site for human remains, a cache site for damaged ritual equipment, a defence against thieves, or some other intended purpose, it was impossible to know until they unearthed it fully, and it was deep and narrow enough that excavation required one team at the bottom and another at the top pulling the sand up with ropes one heaping basket at a time.
"You've got that look on your face again," Rick said warily, standing next to her as they observed the operation. He'd dressed in a more relaxed fashion the previous few days, but he'd taken one look at her that morning and strapped on both pistol holsters over a white linen shirt and added a blue handkerchief at his throat: very much the picture of Rick O'Connell, Adventurer. Next to him, Ardeth appeared similarly ready for action.
"What look?" Evy replied distractedly, arms crossed over her chest.
"That look," Rick pointed at her. "Like you think something's about to happen."
"I was just thinking earlier," she replied, "about the references to Osiris here. Of course he was always the judge and lord of the dead and the underworld; it isn't exactly unusual to find him mentioned on the walls of tombs and temples. But he wasn't the chief god of Ramesses' reign, or those of his successors, and none of these texts are anything I've ever seen before. And given what happened with Imhotep, to find such focus on his deity here, tucked away from the main temple complexes...."
Rick gave Ardeth a grim look. "And here I'd been thinking that we wouldn't have to worry about that guy again for another generation, at least, by which time he'd be a problem for Alex and your cousin. You think there's something important hidden here?"
"Not to my knowledge," Ardeth replied, equally wary. "But if it was an older artefact, reburied...."
There was a sudden flurry of exclamations from the men in the pit, and then the ladder shook as the workers hurriedly climbed back out, crying for her to come and see.
Evy gave both men a look, then edged carefully forward, glancing down into the pit where a glint of colour winked back up at her, a small portion of something larger clearly exposed by the digging team. "Gold," she realised, breath caught in wonder. There had been something valuable left within these walls, preserved from the passing millennia. "I'm going down there."
"Evy...." Rick objected, setting a careful hand on her arm.
"Well, someone's got to investigate," she told him tartly, then picked up a trowel and brush. She understood the wariness, really she did, but she was who she was, and he knew who he'd married. She supposed she could make a few concessions, though. "I'll be careful not to touch it with my hands, don't worry. And Ardeth, if you think you should come with me...?"
He had already stepped out onto the ladder, anticipating her choice. "I'll go down first," he declared, then began descending, carefully gripping the rungs as he dropped below the level of the floor.
Rick hissed out a breath, then nodded to Evy, reluctantly letting go. "Be careful. Both of you."
"Always," she said, smiling wryly at him, then followed Ardeth down.
At the bottom of the square pit, the glint of colour resolved into a long, straight section of some larger object; careful brushing revealed not only gold but blue glass and obsidian also, alternating along the object's length. A box: very like the one in which she had discovered the bracelet of Anubis, in fact, though the decoration differed. Evy brushed carefully along the seams, surer now what she was going to find, and hissed out a breath as a small lock was exposed, identical to the one on that other chest.
She looked up at Ardeth, breath caught in excitement; he nodded back to her, then called up to Rick. "Send down a length of cloth! We'll have to wrap it before we bring it up. It seems my professional expertise was needed here after all."
"You have got to be kidding me...." they heard Rick mutter, moving about up above as he carried out the request.
Evy bit her lip, examining the hieroglyphs on the lid more closely, remembering what had happened the last time, but found no warning about mummies or drinking from the Nile. "There's no curse this time," she murmured, confused. "Only: 'homage to thee, Osiris, Lord of eternity, King of the gods.' But then, I suppose the location of the key would have been a countermeasure all its own, and there is security to be found in obscurity as well. The more elaborate defences of the Bracelet of Anubis might have drawn attention that this place would not."
Another basket lowered from above, this one containing a length of undyed linen; Ardeth helped her finish exposing the chest, then wrap it in the linen and secure it for transport. "You have the key with you, then?" he asked, pitching his voice low so as not to be heard from above.
She nodded, replying in kind. "It was with the Bracelet. Alex hid it when Lock-Nah came to the house, and I've kept it with my jewellery ever since as a reminder of just how close things came."
"In the tent, then, when the rest of the men are at dinner," he suggested.
"Go up with it, then? I'll stay here and pretend to be looking for any other artefacts, as if it's nothing particularly important." The last thing they needed was anyone else getting curious.
Ardeth agreed, and climbed the ladder back out, keeping an eye on the basket the whole way; Evy watched it go, then listened to the murmur of voices at the top for a moment before turning back to the sand at the bottom of the shaft. Trowel work around the chest had revealed bedrock; it had been placed at the very bottom of the shaft, then the shaft had been filled in and likely paved over at the top. If ancient thieves had not stolen the paving stones, she might never have found it.
A shiver worked through her shoulders, and she turned her attention doggedly back to the work, carefully removing the rest of the sand in hopes of perhaps a few more hieroglyphs or a seal or two. But there was nothing else: just the treasure itself, whatever it might prove to be.
On previous adventures, the danger had revealed itself right away; this time, the anticipation dragged out for hours, prickling along her nerves, until the three of them could finally retire to their tent and see what doom had dropped upon them this time. Evy retrieved the necklace-sized key from among her things, then took a deep breath and offered it to Rick; he shook his head adamantly and passed it on to Ardeth. Their lover gave them both a dirty look, but finally set the key in place, waiting a moment before turning it with a click and gently using its chain to pull the lid up out of the way.
Whatever cloth wrapping had once concealed the object inside had long since rotted into small, discoloured scraps; Evy bit her lip, then fanned them away, reluctant to touch anything until she had to. Unlike the inlay on the box, the treasure itself did not appear to be made of gold or precious stones; it was long and narrow, a dark brown in colour, perhaps made of wood. She was hesitant at first to say what it reminded her of, but as further fanning revealed a rounded base at one end and a curving hooked shape at the other, it became bafflingly apparent.
"A shepherd's crook," Evy breathed. "Such were a symbol of rule at least since the time of King Scorpion. But why secure one like this?"
"If it were not just any shepherd's crook. The crook of Osiris," Ardeth corrected her, slowly.
"The crook of Osiris?" she repeated, then stared at him, stunned. "Are you saying...."
Ardeth looked at it, then at Evy, then began to laugh, shoulders shaking with the force of the emotion.
Rick frowned, glancing warily between them, one hand dropping to a holstered pistol. "What does that mean?"
"Let's just say that if a certain priest of Osiris had got his hands on this instead of the pharaoh's mistress, the Nineteenth Dynasty might have been considerably shorter," Ardeth replied, then turned to capture Evy's face with his hands for a thorough kiss. "As much as I appreciate your company, I don't think any of us wants to see what might happen if a reincarnated pharaoh's daughter picks it up again, with the deities stronger now than they have been since ancient times. You have enough responsibilities already, I think."
No wonder Ramesses had buried it. "Including what to do with the damn thing now we've found it," she said, sighing. "Blast. And here I was thinking we were finally having a relaxing vacation."
"If you haven't learned better by now...." Rick snorted, relaxing again and shaking his head. "What was that saying about coincidence and fate?"
Evy gave her husband an indignant look, then their lover; then finally yielded to the absurdity of the situation and shook her head with a chuckle. "I suppose all that's left to say is, here we go again."