IX. Cursed's Fear

The Indian man put distance between them, mindlessly walking away and filled with never-ending relief to be out of that cursed place. Eleanor watched him go as he avidly counted the coins they had paid him for guiding them back to Cairo.

It was already nighttime when Bernie and her set foot inside Fort Brydon, the place seeming more affordable than any hotel. If they were not careful, the bucks they had saved for the journey back home would be spent. So they'd asked for a room for both of them to save money and stress, then her brother went straight to find out when did the next ship leave. The sooner, the better. Eleanor didn't doubt that was his excuse to go to the bar. After all, it was almost midnight; Bernie wasn't so stupid or candid to think that, whoever he bumped into at this hour of the night, would be reliable. So she feigned to believe his excuse, allowing him to go get a drink, and didn't bother to completely unpack. It was actually cute that he thought of her as so naive. Sighing for herself, she opened her baggage, merely looking for a new set of clothes, opting for a blouse and a skirt, deeming her pants as unnecessary now that they were gone from Hamunaptra. She left the clothes hanging from the side of the sink right before running the bathtub's cool water. Afterwards, she lowered herself into it, massaging her tense muscles and untangling her inked locks. She hoped Bernard wouldn't feel compelled to stop by the bar longer than necessary, for they couldn't waste their cash like that, not to mention she'd rather not be alone just yet. At least for longer than necessary; after all, that was the reason why they hadn't asked for separate rooms. She still felt the same anxiety and utter distrust that had invaded her earlier this day.

Eleanor hated how the thrill of adventure and danger had so easily turned into fear. This is what she had wanted... A part of her felt failure and a bruised ego were her punishment for walking out of the only adventure she was most likely to ever have in her whole life, but she hadn't been able to help herself. She let out a tired sigh as she rested her neck against the curve of the white-yellowish porcelain of the tub. Maybe she just wasn't done to be an adventurer... The thought saddened her to no end.

Some minutes later, she finally stepped out of her bath, wrapping herself in the robe hung on the door. She allowed her wet hair to come loose from the improvised bun she had created while washing, but when she was about to comb it she realized that, annoyingly enough, the brush still was in her baggage. Eleanor went back to the dorm and kneeled before the suitcase; she had to sink her hands into it, navigating them through every kind of garment until finally her fingertips brushed the desired object at the bottom. She held it out with her right hand as her left closed again the suitcase. Then, she stood up and turn around to stride back in front of the bathroom's mirror.

Her scream left her throat even before she could process what was going on, just as her feet unconciously took a step back, consequently making her stumble on the damn suitcase on the floor, by the bed. Thankfully, she spared herself the humilliation of actually falling onto her butt. The man clad in its brand black robes that Eleanor had come to both, know and fear so well, calmly lowered the scarf that had been covering his mouth and part of his nose. She nervously glanced at her dorm's closed door, shielded by the tall, dark man standing in front of it and boring holes into her face, seemingly searching for her eyes. It lasted a moment before she remembered the predicament she was in now; how in the name of God had he gotten inside here, soundlessly? In the blink of an eye, she tossed the hair brush against the intruder, faintly aiming for his head, then her legs sprinted for the open bathroom at her right. She could have almost winced at the deep groan that followed the slam of the door and the click of the chain lock; with a bit of luck, perhaps she'd have managed to break her attacker's nose.

The man himself looked somewhat familiar, as did his tattoed cheeks. "Miss, I'm not here to hurt you." Said he from the other side of the door, with his thick accent ringing in each r pronounced.

"You and your friends' actions say otherwise!" Snapped back she, her back painfully tensed and pressed against the wood. Her hearbeat was reaching miles per second, she was sure.

"Where's your brother?" Asked the man.

"Why do you want to know?" She questioned back, finally losing sight of her reflection in the mirror as, instead, she looked for a weapon, still not moving from her spot, as if that would prevent the strong, foreign -or was she the foreigner in this case?- intruder from kicking the door open and crushing her like a fly in the process.

"You both are in grave danger." Came the slightly muffled reply, making her utter a sarcastic chuckle.

"Says the man who raided a camp and set a boat of innocent tourists on fire..." She murmured to herself.

"Our actions were meant to prevent a greater evil from raising." Responded the bedouin, apparently hearing her perfectly and, consequently, making her jump in surprise. "And, thanks to you, we have failed." The man added sounding bitter.

"What kind of... protectors," Eleanor spatted the word, hoping her irony was so obvious that it could be palpable. "Resolve to murder innocents in order to save?"

A second of silence later, the man spoke again. "Back at the City of the Dead, the undead has been awoken," Said the warrior, impatiently. "Now the creature will hunt those who opened the chest and took the sacred canopic jars." She frowned in confusion, finding difficult to breathe normally. "You and your brother were there so I must ask, where is he?"

After another couple of deep breaths, Eleanor answered. "What do you mean the, undead has been awoken? Who's after us?"

"It's a long story, but none of you is safe here." Safe from what, she wanted to ask. Nevertheless she didn't get the chance. "You should get dressed and open the door, miss. There's no time to waste."

"Time for what?" She angrily pursed her lips before snapping. "Who are you? Why are you telling me this?" She really wished she knew where the hell Bernie was exactly!

"The blond man that was with you, he asked me to deliver a message for you. He said, "tell Nellie she was right, ask her to book a damn ship and get us outta here. She was the only smart one". He also asked me to give you one of his girls, assuring it would be the only way to make you listen." Eleanor gulped. Why did she want to believe the stranger's words so badly?

She sighed before answering, her back still pressed against the door. "You could be lying, you could've taken anything from him after killing him." She felt tears forming at her eyes from the mere thought of imagining Henderson with a rain of bullets carved in his chest, delivered from this brutes.

"I'll leave the revolver at the foot of the door, on the floor. I'll tell you when to open and step out, once I've positioned myself at the opposite side of the room, if that makes you feel safer."

Eleanor flickered her watering eyes all over the small bathroom, before exhaling. "Fine." Less than a minute later, the accented voice, noticeably distant from the spot at the other side of the bathroom, called for her to open the door. And so she did, slowly, with trembling hands, before her blue eyes found the revolver, empty of bullets. She kept her glare fixed on the stranger, who true to his word was standing in the furthest wall from her spot, directly in front of her and well within her eyesight. She only allowed herself to look away from him and to the gun once she was holding it, carefully studying it and instantly recognising it, alongside the HH rudely engraved in the metal.

"I am Ardeth Bay," The man said, making her realize he had walked up to the side of the bed, the piece of furniture being the only physical thing separating them. She could clearly watch his features now. "Leader of one of the twelve tribes of the Medjai. I'm telling you all of this because your lives, as may the whole world too, are in great danger. And my people and I need to find a way to stop the creature before he destroys everything on his way." He solemnly said, riveting her gaze with his own. Eleanor could've sworn she felt her chest tightening for more than just fear, and she was sure she had paled too. She took a sharp breath, surprised that he had actually answered her early questions in order.

For a moment she was the one searching his face, faintly wondering if in this culture it was considered inappropiate of a woman to look into a man's eyes, as something inside her head finally snapped as she recognized the voice and face before her. "You and your people... You killed many during the first night." Her hold on Howard's revolver tightened painfully. "Why should I believe you? How can I know you won't hurt me?" His impassive mask just angered her further. Did he have no emotions? "Give me just one good reason."

For what felt like the longest time, Eleanor tried to relax her body under his hard gaze, tensed in anticipation, but it was useless. The man unnerved her, and she was certain she'd never get her questions answered and be thrown over his shoulder, or maybe just knocked out, when Ardeth Bay finally told her. "One of the men that were with you, David Daniels. It's unlikely he'll survive if we don't take action." He took a step to his left, nearing the corner of the bed and closer to her rooted spot, their eyes clinged to the other.

She swallowed difficultly. "What happened to Dave?" Eleanor's mind buzzed with queries; how did the assassin before her know Dave's name? Why wouldn't he survive whatever had happened to him? How could she know if it was true?

"The creature mutilated him." Eleanor actually cringed, mentally scowling herself for showing weakness and assuming the man's words true. And given the brief emotion that passed over his face, the man had noticed the change in her behaviour too. "The undead will do the same to your brother and the rest of your friends if he's not stopped. Right now they're being led to Cairo as the rest of my men try to find a way to kill the creature, but we'll need help." The stranger's dark, piercing gaze briefly flickered all over her face before setting back on her blue eyes. "If you want to save them, you'll have to trust me. Because I'm your only choice."

Her gaze finally broke apart from Ardeth Bay to flicker nervously around the whole room. She couldn't think straight anymore. Maybe that's why she ended up nodding, just as her watering eyes found the assassin's black ones once more.

Bernard was too tempted to keep asking for shots, yet he knew he couldn't. Not if he wanted to see home again or stay in his sister's good side. So, instead, he looked uninterestedly at the empty glass he had drunk a while ago. To say he was quite depressed with how the journey had developed was an understatement.

His short-sighted eyes found the bag resting by his thigh. At least they got the trinket that rested inside there; well, better than go back empty-hand. It'd probably be easier to sell it back in the States anyway, and for a higher price too... One more shot couldn't hurt, right? He was about to raise his hand to call the bartender when two men flanked both of his sides, staring dead serious at the front. He glanced at each from the corner of his eye, a cold shiver going down his back. He recognized the tattoes that marked their faces and hands.

He gulped, weighing his options. He could sit still and wait, he could confront them, he could ignore them, he could shoot them with the revolver tucked inside his high boots... That option sounded like the most appealing. He briefly glanced behind him, over his shoulder, to check if there were more crazy psychos at his back. Instead, he froze upon seeing Eleanor standing at the entrance of the bar, another tattoed man in black standing by her side. Her teary eyes were looking at him intensely, pleading. When she saw she had his attention, she gestured with her head for him to come.

Bernard glared first at the man at his right, then the man at his left, both of them returning his glare with an unimpressed façade. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. Finally, he got up from the stool, slamming the shot's glass onto the counter on his way.

Eleanor paced the room as she played with a long lock of her hair, aware that Ardeth Bay's gaze tended to rest on her just a bit longer than on her brother, who was pale as he sat down on the corner of the bed in their room. The two thugs that had come with the warrior stood outside, guarding the door. She allowed her glare to rest for a moment on the lion head of the jar before abruptly looking back to the front. She wanted to kick it.

She jumped out of her skin when Bernard slammed his boots against the floor, abruptly standing up. "All that bullshit makes no sense!" He snapped, shocked as the news Ardeth had told her sunk in his mind. "It's impossible!"

Her eyes kept glancing from him to the stranger, as if following a tennis match.

"It is true. You can ask your friends in the morning, once they arrive." He calmly responded with a stony mask. Eleanor gulped, wanting to intervene in the conversation, yet, too afraid to do so.

"No one can resurrect! Not our s'pposed God, much less some thousand-year-old mummy!" Bernie retorted, his voice loudly contrasting with the desert man's. "Curses an' Apocalypse?" His gaze set on her, making her almost flinch. "Ya really believe this guy an' his superstitous tale?" She briefly glanced between them again, both of the male's gazes deeply focused on her. She could've almost blushed. Thankfully, she didn't.

"I don't know what to believe." She admitted. "But I know that if Dave's hurt, I won't hesitate to do anything that's in my hand to help him." She added, wishing her voice sounded as determined as the situation required. She took a couple of steps towards her brother, her long skirt accompaying her leg's movements. "Bernie, if it's true, Dave isn't the only one who is being hunted..." She whispered, her voice almost trembling as they locked their eyes. And finally, Eleanor saw it: deep down, her brother was just as scared as she was, and unexplainably so.

"Your sister's right." Ardeth said, taking a step closer to them. "All of you who were present opening the chest will be targeted if the creature isn't stopped."

Eleanor turned so her body was facing his, taking a step forward herself. "And do you know how to stop him?"

Her heart dropped when the warrior imperceptibly shook his head. "The Medjai were taught to guard the City but not to fight such evil."

"So there's just nothing to be done?" Tears of fear and frustration began to form in her eyes. She took another step, forgetting etiquette. "Am I supposed to stand and watch as that monster gets every single person I love?" She damned that instense, guarded gaze with all her inner strength. She noticed from the corner of her eye, Bernie had allowed his body to fall into a sitting position again, his hand coming to rest to his forehead. He looked so tired...

A moment later, Ardeth broke the silence. "I must see a friend and ask him about the matter. He may know if there's any hope." Eleanor set her lips in a firm line, blinking away the tears that had yet to fall. Why did she have to be such a goddamn crying baby?

"Very well. Then I'm coming with you." She stated, thanking that, for once, her nervousness hadn't made her voice tremble or lower itself.

Upon hearing that, Bernard recompossed himself and stood up. "And I'll go wherever she goes." The bedouin looked between both of them, making Eleanor wonder if the image of her and her brother, standing protectively at her back, resulted heroic in any sense to the mysterious Medjai, or simply pathetic. Finally, he nodded.

"Fine. We must hurry, then." He tilted his bearded chin towards the golden jar. "Take that with you, the creature must not get any of the sacred jars." Bernie handed her the object as he took all of his guns and cash, meanwhile Ardeth opened the door and said something in Arabic to the other two Medjai. They nodded, throwing them one last glare before disappearing. And so, the two siblings began to follow the other man to an unknown location. "Do any of you own a cat?" He asked out of the blue, not bothering to check if they were keeping up with his long, hurried strides. The few people they passed gave them funny looks.

"No, why ask?" Bernard questioned him back.

"Cats are the guardians of the Underworld, the creature will fear them until he has completed the curse." Eleanor frowned as Bernie voiced the questions she had just asked herself.

"Then why haven't ya bring one?" To Eleanor's surprise, the Medjai ignored them.

"You should find one and keep it with you at all times." He simply said, making her brother snort in disbelief, otherwise keeping silent.

Some minutes passed in which Eleanor occupied herself analyzing the voice of their guide. When he had talked in Arabic, she was sure he had heard it before somewhere else, but where? She knew it hadn't been during the raid, for he had talked in English there so all of them could understand his threats and warnings. The mere memory was enough to make her shiver. She studied his broad shoulders and armored back. Could it be possible that he, alongside the rest of the Medjai, were a sect instead of a secret society -as Ardeth claimed- and that the tale of the mummy was a superstition? Maybe an hallucination he and his people had? It sounded far more plausible. Eleanor prefered to deal with crazy, real people rather than that that she had no clue how to handle or fight. It was human nature, after all: the unknown was scary. In fact, wasn't that the reason why she had forced Bernie and herself to leave Hamunaptra?

The American nurse could've bumped into the Medjai had it not been for her brother's hand softly grasping her forearm. He lowered his hand, instead holding her own. Eleanor briefly looked at the gesture, surprised to find that she didn't mind it, opposite to what she'd normally think. The Burns' siblings had only held hands when they were less than 9 years old, usually as they explored some new place. Eleanor felt that had been such a long time ago, just like her anger for the bootlegging business he was currently involved in. The perspective of dying, of truly losing him, was all too compelling. Snapping out of it, she glanced up to the entrance of a new, great building. "Cairo Museum of Antiquities"

Ardeth led them to a back door as he entered into the place, like it was his own home, confidently navigating them through the empty corridors. The thought made her wonder, did he have a family somewhere? If so, did they know what he and his gang did, all of the blood that stained their hands? Did they mind it? Before she realized, they found themselves at the entrance of a spacious and richly decorated office. Her gaze immediately found a second Egyptian man sitting behind a desk, scribbling something down in a small piece of paper. He looked up just as Ardeth opened the door without bothering to knock, apparently not surprised of seeing them there. He left the pen he held on the desk and stood. "I presume the rest haven't arrived yet." Said his accented voice, not as deep as Ardeth's, ignoring the two Americans.

"Laa. They won't arrive until the dawn." Ardeth answered, walking up to the desk. The other man glanced distrustfully at them.

"And with them they'll bring the curse as well." A last glance, then the two Egyptian men locked eyes as they talked. "I don't know what do you expect me to do. We've never faced something like this before."

Before the younger man could reply, Eleanor found herself clearing her throat, dragging the attention of the three men to her. A second later, Ardeth spoke to save her from the tense silence that had formed. "This man and her sister were in Hamunaptra when the chest was opened. They were the only ones to listen and leave too." Eleanor wished she could read the impassive mask that the face of Ardeth Bay was to her as he looked at her while speaking.

A small, ironical snort sounded before the second man answered. "Obviously not fast enough."

Bernard took a step forward. "There must be somethin' we can do." He didn't bother to specify. "If that thing can be awoken, surely it can be put to sleep too."

Eleanor caught glimpse of the nametag resting on the desk as the man which it adressed completely faced her brother, taking a step forward himself. "No mortal weapons can defeat such power, sir. Ancient curses aren't awoken regularly, and for good reason." Terrence Bey, as the nametag read, solemnly said.

"Does... the creature, have any weakness we can take advantage of?" Eleanor found herself asking, gulping for the renewed attention. "We already know he fears cats. But that won't keep him away forever."

"No, it won't." Mr. Bey agreed. "We must look into history and see if our predecesors left any clues behind, at least while we wait for the rest of your party. The archives of the museum are at our entire disposition, but time marches fast, miss. We can't afford rest." Eleanor nodded before looking away.

"All of them will want answers too. I'll go with Miss Burns to the lower section." Eleanor quickly looked back to Ardeth upon hearing this, her gaze instantly avoiding his and looking for her brother, who was already speaking.

"Why do she have to go with ya?"

Mr. Bey was who answered. "I seriously doubt any of you has the slightest idea about Ancient Egypt history, sir. It will be more beneficial if we split." He walked back to his desk as he added. "Not to mention, we are warriors opposed to simple gunmen. Both of you will be safer with one of us than if you limit yourself to fire bullets aiming for every suspicious shadow." The scathing answer had hit the nail, all too logically.

Bernard and Eleanor exchanged a brief glance before both nodded, the nurse feeling grateful for the small hand-gun Bernard had insisted on giving to her and which was safely secured in her right boot, hidden by her long skirt. Ardeth and Mr. Bey exchanged some words in Arabic before the first advanced towards her. "Follow me."

And so she did, fighting the urge to glance one last time over her shoulder at her brother. The pair kept going down some stairs until they reached some sort of basement. At the sight, Eleanor stopped dead in her tracks, tense. She could already feel the sweat and the aches. Ardeth stopped as he was about to open the door to gaze at her. In an instant, he had let go of the door handle and walked closer to her, still keeping the safety distance of her personal space.

"You don't need to fear me." His voice, gentler than she had ever expected, surprised her, making her frown a bit. It seemed like that only prompted the desert man to explain further. "My people and I do not kill or bring harm to others out of pleasure. Besides, you are no good dead, Miss Burns." She gulped, their eyes once again clinged to the other.

So, he had mistaken her claustrophoby for fear towards him. Nevertheless, she thanked his apparently sincere words. They soothed her a bit. "I actually am afraid of small, closed spaces, or underground locations which are too dark or small." She took a deep breath.

"I see..." Said he, turning back around and opening the door. "Wait here." He threw over his shoulder, and she happily obliged. The black robes he wore fused with the darkness of the corridor, making his shilouette practically indistinguishable. Then, a bright light came from the doorway and she walked closer. A bit ahead, Ardeth gestured for her to come in. Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the now illuminated, spacious room. It didn't feel like it was practically underground. She followed the Medjai until they stopped at one of the various tables that occupied the place, alongside several bookshelves littered with manuscrits, papers and books of all sort. Her eyes wandered over them curiously.

"What's this place exactly?" Eleanor asked, nearing one of the shelves and carefully picking a random book. She opened it, disappointed upon encountering Arabic writing, which obviously enough she failed to understand. Ardeth appeared at her side, gently taking the book from her.

"This is the Museum's department of archives. At least part of it." He swiftly left the book on the nearly empty table while he kept speaking. "Here we may find something useful..." He nearly muttered the last part, as if forgetting she was there. The American studied him as he took more and more documents. She was about to offer help when, finally, he placed the pile that had accumulated in his arms on the table. Then, his quick fingers made two different piles before finally looking back at her. "These texts are written in English," He placed his right hand on top of the mentioned pile. "They mainly refer to the 19th Egyptian dynasty and the royal family's history, some will talk about religion and culture. While you study them I'll take care of the rest."

Eleanor hesitasted for a moment before walking up to the man's side, her smaller hands taking the first manuscrits of the pile. "What's the legend? The story your people know?" She found herself asking after some minutes in silence, not averting her eyes from the royal habits the pharaohs tended to follow. She damned herself for even striking up conversation with him, the man who lead a party of butchers. She still remembered how she had gone checking the pulse of every single digger that had been killed at the camp, confirming their deaths.

After a moment, he indulged her curiosity. "The creature once had a name, and was human before becoming the undead. He was High Priest of the Pharaoh, Seti I, and keeper of the dead. He was cursed after murdering the pharaoh and attempting to resurrect the woman he loved, the pharaoh's mistress, who also died. As punishment, he was sentenced to be buried alive and cursed with the Hom Dai, the worst of all. It is said, if the creature were to rise from the dead he would bring along with him the ten plagues of Egypt, extending his curse to all mankind."

Eleanor frowned, leaving the paper she had been holding onto the table. That just didn't make sense to her. "Why condemn all of mankind for the wrongs of a single man? He was tortured enough when he was buried alive, and supposedly in the afterlife too." She stated. An instant later, she shook her head before facing the warrior. He had been watching her. "What kind of curse gives more power to a sinner than it takes from him?" They kept a gaze contest until Eleanor realized just that it must have been a full minute since they made eye-contact and that he didn't seem willing, or capable, of giving her an answer. Faintly blushing, she turned back to the books and papers scattered in front of her. Her feet and legs were beginning to ache. One or two moments later, she found herself speaking again. "You said he was once had a name. Which was it?"

A second later, he replied. "Imhotep."

Eleanor wasn't sure what had she expected, but guessed that was as good of a name as any other. She wanted to pull out her hair. Why was she acting as if she believed this so called priest had resurrected to take vengeance on the world? It was impossible. A little annoyed with herself, she harshly moved aside the books she had already checked concerning pure history facts and decided to focus on the texts concerning religious practices. If the enemy was a priest, it was just logical to get to know him, wasn't it? She couldn't help but turn her head upon hearing Ardeth speak again.

"Why did you leave Hamunaptra?" Now she saw he was the one all too focused on staring at the documents. "Your friend told me you were the only one who insisted."

She gulped before answering. "I didn't really believe in your warnings, other than the one that you and your men would come back." That attracted his attention, which she answered by avoiding his stare. "Death is not worth some ancient gold in my eyes." She muttered. Ardeth must have been at a loss for words since she was answered with silence. A silence she, for some reason, couldn't bear. "Our mother is sick, back in America." From the corner of her eye, she noticed the Medjai staring at her as he listened. "She's stable, although not recovered. She may heal completely once we get the medicines. And for that we need money..." She almost whispered the last line. What did it matter if this stranger judged them or not? Why did she care enough to give him an explanation? "Besides," She carried on. "My brother and I have other expenses." Like their parents' care, at least partially, like Bernie's upcoming wedding, like her own studies and independance... Eleanor guessed such a trivial things could be sacrificed if necessary. Well, her spinsterhood and the wedding could be.

If Ardeth was going to give her an answer, it fell on deaf ears as she frowned, noticing something interesting written on the manuscrit she held. It read, "...By honoring the principle of harmony or ma'at, personified as a goddess of the same name holding the white feather of truth, and living one's life in accordance with its precepts, one was aligned with the gods and the forces of light against the forces of darkness and chaos, and assured one's self of a welcome reception in the Hall of Truth after death and a gentle judgment by Osiris, the Lord of the Dead."

"Here," She pointed, prompting the Medjai to stand closer as he watched over her shoulder. Eleanor decided to ignore the intimacy of the gesture, for her sake. "From what you told me, Imhotep broke that principle. Wouldn't that play in our favor? Can't we use some ritual or spell calling on Osiris for help so he can restort that harmony?" She risked a glance over her shoulder, their heads too close for her liking, even though not breaking their personal space. The Medjai had a slight frown on his forehead.

"The only way Imhotep could have been brought back is if someone read from the Book of the Dead." Eleanor resisted the urge to point out how unoriginal the name was. "The legends say the Book has a sort of counterpart, which reverses its effects. The Book of the Living."

Eleanor fully turned around, failing to keep her shoulder from touching the chest of the warrior in the process. "Then we could just read the opposite spell to counteract the curse!"

Ardeth shook his head before explaining. "It's not as simple. On a start, the location of the Book of the Living is unknown, although there's a good chance that it's hidden somewhere in Hamunaptra."

She took a step forward, forgetting both of their personal space. "Then we'll look for it! Your people has guarded the City for millenniums, you must know well the place, even if you don't know the Book's location."

"Even if we found the Book soon enough to prevent the creature from consuming those who are now cursed, its writing is not similar to any modern dialect." He said, making her frown. "Only someone who speaks and reads Ancient Egyptian could read out loud the spell from the Book, Miss Burns." She heaved a sigh, feeling defeated.

"There must be at least one person able to do so. The same one who woke Imhotep in the first place!" After what felt like an eternity, Ardeth nodded.

"Yes, you're right." Eleanor sighed one more time, this time allowing a small degree of relief to flood through her veins. Ardeth extended his arm, and just as she was about to blush, he reached from behind her and grasped half of the manuscrits that laid on the table. He turned around then, placing them in their respective shelves. Within a minute, he had cleared the entire table and had turned to face her. "Come, we must tell your brother and Terrence."

Eleanor kept her gaze focused on the dark ceiling of their room at Fort Brydon. She couldn't sleep. Her brother, on the other side of the bed, had been snoring for almost ten minutes now though. He was too tired to worry; plus, the shot he had got at the beginning of the night was quite helpful to get to sleep. Maybe she should've taken one herself.

Instead, she replayed in her head once and again all of the events that had occurred since she had found Ardeth Bay in this very same bedroom. After they had got back from the basement, both of them had explained their theory to Bernie, at first skeptical as ever, and to Mr. Bey, who had listened silently, stroking his goatee in contemplation. Then, he too had voiced his agreement as well. Problem was, all of them were tired, and nevertheless they would have to wait for all the rest to arrive to Cairo. According to Mr. Bey's asumptions, Miss Jennings herself, or more likely one of her two British friends, must have been the ones to read from the Book of the Dead. And, in spite of being certain that Imhotep would bring the plagues with him, they still had no clue of what would he do if he managed to consume the curse and regenerate himself. Gulping, she moved her head to watch her brother's sleeping form. She did so for a good while. What would she do if he...? Abruptly, she closed her eyes and gave him her back so she was laying on her side, one hand beneath the cool pillow. She refused to even think about the possibility.

If that wasn't enough, a small part of her kept watching all of the interactions she had had with Ardeth Bay in her mind. Moreover, an even smaller part of her brain knew she was missing something, and that it had to do with the equally handsome and intimidating Medjai. She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus.

Tomorrow, first light in the morning, they would wake up and greet the others, afterwards heading straight for the Museum to devise a plan. And, in the way, she would make sure to fetch an entire army of cats if that served to keep Imhotep away from her loved ones.

A.N/: Forgive the very, very late update. My life's been quite a havoc recently. Nevermind, here's the new chapter! Even if a bit of transition, I assure you all the stuff that happened here is relevant to some extent for the plot I have in mind. Anyway, I assure you next chapter will be awfully interesting ;)

I'm afraid, seeing I was in such a hurry to update, I didn't add any 1920's slang, although that can be spared this time, seeing that the crucial points and information of this chapter are untouched. Even so, next time I'll make sure to find the time to add that accurate flavor the period slang provides. I also apologize for all the grammar and spelling I surely have overlooked; I'll try to fix it soon.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

~Se acerca el invierno