“Eleanor,” Allison whispered.
“Shhhh.” I poked my head around the sarcophagus and squinted to see into the entrance hall. Yet it was hard to tell which distant figures were statues and which were people.
“There’s something glowing in your dress.”
“What?” I jerked my gaze to her . . . then down. Sure enough, a faint blue glow pulsed inside my bodice.
I fidgeted with the fabric over my chest and finally withdrew the ivory fist. My jaw went slack, for it flared with a throbbing, blue light.
I gasped, and my fingers jumped to my throat. To the heartbeat that pulsed at the exact same speed.
Allison gawked at me. “What is that?”
“It’s only a . . . an artifact.” I lifted one shoulder. “I found it in Paris—but it has never glowed like this!”
“Put it away.” Allison shrank back, covering her eyes. “It’s too bright, and someone will see.”
But someone seeing us was the least of our worries, for at that moment, a shriek—rattling and desperate—ripped through the museum.
I met Allison’s wide eyes through the glowing blue light.
Another scream broke out, followed by another.
With no concern for caution, I scrambled around the sarcophagus—for something was happening, and it was bad. Through the distant curtains, I could see figures racing for the door.
“Eleanor.” Allison’s fingers latched on to my bicep and squeezed.
“What?” I snapped. But then I saw what had caught her eye. The ivory fist was pulsing twice as fast now.
I shoved the fist deep into my bodice. The light dulled, but even the layers of silk could not hide it completely. “I think it’s time to go—we can get out while everyone is fleeing.”
“But what about my money?” Allison cried. “And we don’t even know why they’re fleeing.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.” I had to shout now to be heard over shrieking party guests. Yet as I crept back toward the entrance, I saw that the main hall was blocked—too many people were trying to get out. I watched in horror as one man tripped and fell, hitting the tiles hard . . . and no one stopped to help. They simply climbed over him.
I tried to swallow. Tried to breathe. My feet stumbled two steps forward, and my hand waved dumbly for Allison to follow. Two more steps . . . then one more. . . .
Then I stopped trying to move at all, for now I could see what had sparked the panic. His rotted, cloth-draped body had reached the octagonal case in the entrance, hopping along on one leg.
Thutmose II had woken up.
People kicked and heaved to get away as he clawed with skeletal fingers for anyone in his path. Then a guttural groan poured from a lipless mouth . . . and his head snapped toward Allison and me. In a twist of ancient sinew and bone, he lurched toward us.
A scream tore from Allison’s throat—then her hands shoved against my back. “Go! Go!”
But I stayed glued to my spot, unable to look away from the approaching mummy. There was something in his hand—something in each hand . . .
And the items were glowing blue—identical to the ivory fist.
“Do something,” Allison screeched. “Stop it—lay it to rest.”
“Not yet.” My hand moved toward my bodice.
“Yes yet!” Allison yelled at me. “Do something!”
But I did not do something. At least not what Allison likely wanted. And it was certainly not what Oliver or Jie would recommend. But they were not here to stop me.
I tried to swallow. Tried to nod, but the old hunger for magic was beating to life—and it was as loud and insistent as the mummy’s moans. Somehow Thutmose II was walking again—and somehow he was linked to the ivory fist.
And I needed to know why.
Then my eyes landed on the display of maces, and an idea ignited. I dived for the nearest one, its head of spiked bronze looking particularly effective.
For half a breath Allison gaped at me, her mouth hanging open—and in a flicker of a half-formed thought, I realized how much I would rather have had Jie beside me at that moment. She would know instantly what to do.
But then Allison caught onto my plan, and she snatched up another mace. “Now what?”
My only response was to slink back into the middle of the hall, for the mummy was close now. His groans—a sound like ancient wind—grated against my skin. The glowing items in his hands burned my eyes with their light. There was a heaviness in the air. An electrical shimmer. It set my teeth to grinding, and my hairs pricked up.
This wasn’t simply one of the Dead—the mummy reeked of power.
With a deep inhale, I sank low into my stance. But then Allison’s hand thrust up, pointing ahead to a lone figure limping through the entrance hall. “Milton,” she growled. “And he’s getting away.”
She was right. Why the professor was the last to leave—and why it looked like he could barely shamble out, I had no idea. But this was our chance to get what we’d come for.