Sorry I took so long! I have absolutely no excuse for not updating in a year, almost, only for not updating lately. That one goes by the name of Frances. Ya know, the monster of a hurricane that flattened most of Florida? Anyway, I'm so sorry!

Oh, new organization from this point on, more like the Amelia Peabody series (manuscript H, etc.). And the parasol action will have to wait. Anyway, here ya go, enjoy!

Oh, yeah, to Sarah Sparrow: I've read up to the Golden One, too. There's a new one that comes out in April? Hadn't heard, thanks for letting me know! And thanks to everyone else who reviewed, y'all made my day!

Neffy

Seated in the balcony of the prison's main courtyard (where the warden had graciously agreed to let us watch the forthcoming execution), we were all waiting for the "show" to begin. Miss Carnahan was seated up front, next to the warden, with the rest of us in the back of the balcony with her still-unconscious brother. Ramses loomed over the side, watching the scene with his unreadable dark eyes.

The gallows were unremarkable; I suppose any primitive prison would have an exact copy. The prisoners were a rather rowdy bunch, to say the least. They seemed to greatly enjoy banging on their cell bars loudly and screaming something- I believe it is the gentleman's name, O'Connell, or some such- and all I can say to that is that it makes a dreadful noise.

The man himself is obviously American. Not the respectable sort that we have known over the years, but from what I have seen he may well be quite a nice person. However, I may just have to change that to past tense in a few moments. It seems he won't be lasting long.

"I will give you a hundred pounds to save this man's life!" Young Miss Carnahan was arguing with the warden again.

"Me' dam, I would pay a hundred pounds to see him dead!"

"Two! Two hundred pounds!"

"Proceed!" the warden shouted to the other prison workers.

"Three hundred pounds!" Evelyn was shouting uselessly," Five hundred pounds!"

The Arab stopped at that and yelled for the guard to stop for the moment.

"And what else?" He asked, being so forward as to grip her knee, "I am a very lonely man..."

I was quite amazed at his effrontery, and was about to interfere when Emerson stopped me with a mischievous grin. Shortly after this comment, Miss Carnahan proved herself not so naive after all; with a hard slap from her book, the warden stood angrily. She might be the death of the American, after all- wounding an Arab male's pride is a capital offense to them. In fact, wounding ANY male's pride is. He motioned to the guard to release the rope, despite Evelyn's protests.

"Haha!" the warden grinned broadly and laughed as the American swung from his neck,"His neck did not break! Oh, I'm so sorry. Now we must watch him strangle to death!"

From his enthusiastic response, it wouldn't be very much of an ordeal at all.

"He knows the location to Hamunaptra," Evelyn said quietly. It was a last-ditch effort, as the Americans say.

"You lie," the warden stared at her skeptically. The girl looked offended.

"I would never!"

"Are you trying to tell me that this filthy, Godless, son of a pig, knows where to find the City of the Dead?"

"Yes!"

"Truly!"

"Yes! And if you cut him down, we will give you... ten percent."

"Thirty."

"Twenty."

"Twenty-five!"

"Ah! Deal!"

The warden realized what had happened and groaned before signaling to the man at the gallows.

"Cut him down!"

The other prisoners cried out and banged on their cell bars once again. It was beginning to get irritating. I glanced over at Emerson, who was busily watching the scene below.

"Alright," I said briskly,"If we are through here, I believe we should collect our charge and get moving. Come on then."

The next day, we all met at the port. We decided that it would be easier to leave our own boat behind and travel with the Carnahans and their American. Emerson was off looking after the baggage and we were waiting to board.

"Do you really think he's going to show up?" Evelyn was asking her brother and Nefret irritably.

"Undoubtedly, knowing my luck," Jonathan answered.

"Well, if you ask me," she stated,"I think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel, I don't like him one bit!"

"Anyone I know?" the American came out of the crowds, though I certainly wouldn't have recognized him. He had shaved and gotten a haircut, as well as new clothing so he looked somewhat respectable. Somewhat. He stopped between Jonathan and Ramses, a large duffel sack slung over one shoulder at Jonathan and pulled his wallet from his coat.

"Oh, no," the older man protested,"I'd never steal from a partner... partner."

"I'd hope you wouldn't steal from any of us..." I warned in a stiff voice. He nodded and grinned idiotically.

"Good, we'd best be off. Come on then..." I led the group towards the boat.

"Look, if this is just some sort of scam, I AM warning you, I-" Evelyn began barrading our guest.

"You're WARNING me?" Mr. O'Connell stared at her in disbelief,"Look lady, my whole damn garrison believed in this so much that, without orders, we marched halfway through Libya and into Egypt to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand and blood. Let me get your bags."

"Yes," Jonathan moved behind her,"You're right. Filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel."

Evelyn looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and followed the American. Nefret and Ramses exchanged glances and followed them towards the ramp. I was about to join them when I heard the unmistakable sound of a motorcar. I could only pray that it wasn't what I thought it was.

Unfortunately, my husband had decided he couldn't live without the large, obnoxious bright yellow motorcar he had insisted we were in dire need of. It was known throughout Egypt, by every person (respectable and unscrupulous alike) we had acquaintances with. I lowered my head, entirely embarrassed; He must have spent a fortune trying to convince the officials to let him take that monstrosity on board, even with his "connections". No sane Egyptian defies the needs of the Father of Curses. Neither does anyone else, no matter their cultural backgrounds.

I was equally stunned to see a very familiar head of ebony curls. David Todros, once a forger of antiquities, now a very blessed artist and a second son to both myself and Emerson, came swinging towards me, dressed in a regal European suit; irony of ironies. He and Ramses resembled each other very much, however it was the actual Egyptian boy who looked to be English.

"David?" I exclaimed, as he grinned and kissed my hand. A gentleman to the last.

"Aunt Amelia," he smiled warmly,"I'm told you are embarking on another adventure. You would not let me miss it, would you?"

"I was under the impression you would be at home with you're wife," I said suspiciously. David had recently married Emerson's niece, Lia. Despite much opposition, the two were very much in love and bound and determined to make it official.

"Well..." he trailed off sheepishly,"We were planning on visiting you, but the Professor managed to secure two more tickets, so..."

"Aunt Amelia!" Amelia Emerson Todros flung her small body at me, gold curls flying from beneath her hat.

"My dear, what are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be on you're honeymoon?"

"Where better to go than on an adventure with our dear family?" Lia exclaimed giddily,"Where is Nefret? And who is this new family the Professor is talking about?"

"It's a bit of a long story, dear..." I muttered, leading my extensive and nosey family to the waiting boat.