I don’t bother licking my fingers, just wipe them on the limestone blocks before turning on my Maglite and plunging into the depths.
I sneeze within twenty steps, and halfway down, through the haze, my light reveals several loose rocks strewn across the landing.
Crap.
I scurry down the remaining stairs and stop dead in my tracks as I turn left at the bottom. A pickax rests amongst a host of broken and scattered limestones, beside a gaping hole in the wall.
Shit!
I sneeze again as I pick my way toward the no-longer-secret room with trepidation. How did Irik know about it?
“This may be the greatest find in the last decade, Irik. Unbelievable.” Jude’s voice drifts into the landing, oozing enthusiasm and awe. “I still don’t understand how you found it.”
Neither do I.
Irik laughs. “Just a little thumping here and there.”
Call me a fiery redhead but my temper ignites in an instant. He plans to take credit for my find. But what am I going to say? Yeah, Jude, I found this trove of scrolls day before yesterday and then a sexy guy came and together we dealt with a sphinx that came to life as a result?
“I’d no idea there might be something so extraordinary right under our noses,” Jude continues.
It about kills me to bite my tongue, but I manage it, just barely, crushing my empty coffee cup as I fist my hands, then stuff it in my pocket.
Play it cool, Pell. Play it cool. Focus on the problem and pray they haven’t read any of those scrolls.
I put on my best face of indifference and stride into the room. “Good morning. The guys told me I could find you here.”
“Pell,” Jude says, glancing up at me from where he kneels before two ancient manuscripts that lay open. “Look what Irik discovered.”
Irik, the dumb ass, lets the corner of his mouth rise. I do my best to ignore the idiot, gazing across the shelves bursting with ancient knowledge that still inspires awe in me, but my stomach sours as I realize, not counting the scrolls on the floor, several more are missing. Did Irik make off with them? I wouldn’t put it past him.
I return my focus to the open scrolls and bite my lip before asking, “What do they say?”
“We’ve only just started translating them, Pell,” Jude says. “It’s odd considering we’re in Greece, but they’re in hieroglyphs.”
Yes! They haven’t read them.
I quickly wipe the smile off my face.
“Hieroglyphs are your specialty if I remember, Pelly,” Irik says, winking as he unzips his navy parka where he stands near the shelves.
I struggle to push down the fury he knows he’s unleashing with the use of that name. “Irik, have you ever heard of a bony-eared assfish?”
He grins. “Can’t say I have.”
“Not a wonder. They have the smallest brain-to-body weight ratio of all vertebrates, and you’ve just proven you are one.”
The royal snob’s eyes go wide, and I laugh.
Jude cuts off our bickering. “I have to admit I’m a bit rusty with my ancient Egyptian. Why don’t you help us out?”
Crap, crap, crap.
“Should you be trying to decipher them out in the field? Won’t it hurt the scrolls?” I ask. It’s worth a try.
“One or two shouldn’t be a problem, right, Jude?” Irik winks at me and my eyes go wide.
Pay the jerk no mind, Pell. I exhale loudly.
Jude motions for me to kneel beside him. “This find is historic and I have to know what they say before I contact headquarters.” Jude’s anything but emotive usually, but excitement laces his every word.
Damn. Where’s Harpoc when I need him? I can’t release another centuries-old creature.
“Go ahead,” Jude says, after I hesitate for a minute. I steal a look out of the corner of my eye to see his eyes sparkle.
A little help Harpoc?
I clear my throat as Irik the Oaf lands on his knees across from me. “Yes, go ahead, Pelly.”
Don’t be like him, Pell, be the better woman. I barely stifle a snicker.
I focus on the text that Jude shines his light on, and my stomach goes hard. Whatever it is, there’s only two or three sentences devoted to it. I’ll decipher it in no time.
Crap, crap, double crap. How can I delay longer? Harpoc, get your sexy ass over here.
“Go ahead, Pell,” Jude encourages.
“I con…” Irik says, trying to beat me to it. “Wait, what’s that next character?”
I give him an evil eye. If I dally longer, these two’ll no doubt attempt to translate it and all hell will again break out.
They can’t know the true nature of these scrolls. With his big mouth, Irik will blabber Harpoc’s secrets in that arrogant, snobbish droll of his to anyone who’ll listen. They’ll be public knowledge quicker than I can say “Irik’s an ass” and who knows how many other creatures might be brought back once they’re fully translated.
I glance at the papyrus.
Please, oh please, be the secret of an ant or tiny, tiny, tiny cockroach. Who knows if such creatures have secrets, but I can hope.
I refocus on the first line of the text. Like the sphinx’s scroll, this missive begins with a title. My shoulders curl forward as I read, “Secret of Zephyr the Harpy.”
Shiiiit!
“A harpy? They were the dogs of Zeus, agents of punishment who abducted people and tortured them on their way to Tartarus. They were vicious, cruel, and violent,” Jude says, and his eyes start to dance.
Harpoc! I don’t know how you knew I translated that scroll before, but get your sexy ass here, right now!
“A harpy had a secret?” Irik adds, like it’s no big deal. “Hmm, interesting thing to be written on this
