each measuring at least sixteen or seventeen feet by about twelve feet, and at least nine feet high. They were positioned side by side with just a few feet between them.
“Again,” he ordered, reaching out to touch the wall of the one closest to them. Some kind of wood, cedar probably, covered with plaster, gilded and inlaid with precious and semiprecious stones. It looked as though it had just been erected that day. It was mind-boggling to realize it had been placed there three thousand years ago.
The flash went off, showing them the double sloping roofs and some of the hieroglyphics. Another flash. He got an impression of the brilliant blue background, hieroglyphs, and a shitload of gold.
Impressive as hell, undoubtedly the discovery of the twenty-first century.
They’d stumbled across what everyone else was willing to kill for.
“Did you see the double tyet-knot amulets? Those are Isis and Osiris.” Flash. “And on the end there, the protective wedjat-eyes… Oh, Connor, I wish my father could see this. Look at the details in these.” She ran her fingers reverently over a sunken relief of a headless lion.
“Maybe he will one day.” Thorne tried to keep each flash image in his head so he could reexamine it in his mind’s eye. “Take lots of pictures.”
With each burst of light he was more interested in seeing if there was a way out. He wasn’t willing to spend a whole hell of a lot more time here. If there was no exit, then they had to negotiate the tunnel back to the original chamber. Isis might’ve gotten a second burst of energy, but he’d noticed her slowing footsteps and lack of energy fifteen minutes ago. She needed water—hell, they both needed water, to replenish what they were sweating out in the too-warm confines of the tomb.
“Let’s walk around to the other side.” The stink of ammonia was stronger behind the two shrines. Ammonia usually indicated bats. Tombs were a favorite hangout for them. He didn’t hear any squeaking.
“Okay.” There was a little bounce in her step as he felt his way along the wall of one of the shrines. “These are like Russian nesting dolls.” Flash. “There are usually at least five or six shrines one inside the other before reaching the sarcophagus inside. I would love, love, love to go through each one… I’d love getting out of here more, however.”
“Working on it.” All around the perimeter of the chamber were piles of Coptic jars, statues of all sizes, and piles upon piles of jewelry and ornamentation. What there wasn’t was a fucking door.
“To be the first person to lay eyes on Cleopatra in thousands of years…” She laughed as she took another series of shots. “I see now how easy it was for my father to get the bug, and why he never wanted to leave Egypt.”
“Flash the ceiling.”
She did so. “What are we looking for?”
“Bats.”
“Ew. Is that the smell?”
He nodded, which she couldn’t see. “I didn’t see any, did you?” Didn’t see them, but knew they were somewhere close by. “If there are bats around, there’s a way in and out of the tomb close by.”
“Bats can squeeze into teeny-tiny holes, right? There might be an opening that’s only bat—”She stopped his forward motion with a sharp tug of his hand. “Hang on, stand here.” She positioned him. “Look straight ahead.” Flash.
“Do you see that?” Her voice rose in excitement.
“What am I looking at?” A narrow recessed panel, carved out of limestone, was set in the wall. A couple of statues in rich garb, holding hands, sat in a two-foot-high niche. Like everything else here, it was beautifully executed and covered with gold and stones.
“It’s a soul door—a false door.” She stepped closer and got off another flash. “The statues are to offer the souls refuge if the body’s stolen.”
“Lovely,” he said with a bit of a bite. “But we’re looking for a real door, reme—” The words cut off abruptly when he heard a faint murmur of voices beyond the wall. He squeezed Isis’s fingers, but there was no need. She too had heard the voices, and went dead still.
Suddenly a pinpoint of light shone through the solid stone soul “door” from the other side. “Don’t move,” Thorne breathed, squeezing her hand.
Moving stealthily, he went to the small hole and peered through it.
At eye level were the bats they smelled. Thousands of them, clinging in a black mass to the ceiling. Clearly not bothered by either the light or activity below