doesn’t need to know,” Gabriel muttered, standing up again, pacing.
“How’d you find me?” Lucy asked.
“They found me,” Gabriel said. “Sent a note to Michael saying my helping them was the price for letting you go.”
“Helping them do what?”
“Find something they’re looking for,” Gabriel said. “A stone—an artifact from ancient Egypt that they say is hidden in Corsica.”
“Why Corsica?”
“It’s a long story,” Gabriel said.
Lucy stared at him, concerned. “Are you going to do it?”
“I’m going to do what it takes to get you out of here.”
“Do you really think they’ll let me go if you get this thing for them? That they’ll let
you
go . . . ?”
Gabriel shook his head. “But they aren’t going to hurt either of us as long as they still need me to get it. That gives us an advantage.”
“A small one,” she said.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said, but he grinned and chucked her gently under the chin. “But how much of one do I need?”
He saw her eyes warm to the prospect of a rescue. She’d always believed in him—more than she should have, maybe. But a bit of confidence wasn’t a bad thing, a bit of hope. She needed something to restore her strength.
Some food would help. He went to the door and pounded on it with the side of his fist.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Getting you some food.”
The lock turned and the door opened. It was Chigaru.
“Hey,” Gabriel said, his voice low. “I want you to bring her some food. Right now. And—hold on.” Chigaru had started to turn away, but Gabriel snagged the front of his shirt in his fist, turned him around. Chiagru looked down at the bunched fabric angrily. “I want you to know something else. If you touch my sister again, I’ll kill you. Do we understand each other?”
“Take your hand off me,” Chigaru said.
“Do we understand each other?”
The look in Gabriel’s eyes was impossible not to understand. Gabriel let go of Chigaru’s shirt, smoothed down the creased fabric. “Good,” he said. “Now—food.”
Gabriel shut the door. He heard Chigaru’s footsteps going away. He’d left it unlocked, and Gabriel thought for a moment of trying to break Lucy out right now, while the door was open and Chigaru was away from his post. But it wasn’t feasible—not with three stories of armed men between them and the tunnel, and not with Lucy barely steady enough to stand. With some food in her, some more time for the drugs to get out of her system . . . maybe. But not yet.
“I’m going to talk to Amun and get him to stop giving you the drugs,” Gabriel said. “I’ll tell him you’re going to be cooperative now.”
“Who’s Amun?”
“Tall guy, goatee, fez?”
She shook her head. “Haven’t met him. Have you seen Khufu yet?”
“Who’s Khufu?”
“The boss around here,” she said. “Calls himself ‘Khufu the Second.’ Like he’s a pharaoh. Carries a scepter, wears a mask, this traditional Egyptian thing . . . He’s the man in charge.”
“I thought Amun was—”
“I don’t know who Amun is,” Lucy said, “but he’s not in charge. You meet Khufu, you know he’s the boss.”
She lay back on the bed. Her eyes were sliding shut, though she was fighting to keep them open.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “I don’t want you hurt because of me.”
“What do you mean, shouldn’t have come?” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I’m your brother. Of course I’m going to come.”
“I bet Michael’s mad at me,” she mumbled.
“He’s worried about you,” Gabriel said.
“He’s always worried. About everything.”
“So he’s more worried than normal. He cares about you, you know.”
“Even though I haven’t talked to him since I was seventeen?”
“Even though,” Gabriel said. “You’re still his sister.”
Her eyes slid shut and this time they stayed shut.
“I’m glad,” she said, her voice very tired, “that at least they’re not
“How’d you find me?” Lucy asked.
“They found me,” Gabriel said. “Sent a note to Michael saying my helping them was the price for letting you go.”
“Helping them do what?”
“Find something they’re looking for,” Gabriel said. “A stone—an artifact from ancient Egypt that they say is hidden in Corsica.”
“Why Corsica?”
“It’s a long story,” Gabriel said.
Lucy stared at him, concerned. “Are you going to do it?”
“I’m going to do what it takes to get you out of here.”
“Do you really think they’ll let me go if you get this thing for them? That they’ll let
you
go . . . ?”
Gabriel shook his head. “But they aren’t going to hurt either of us as long as they still need me to get it. That gives us an advantage.”
“A small one,” she said.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said, but he grinned and chucked her gently under the chin. “But how much of one do I need?”
He saw her eyes warm to the prospect of a rescue. She’d always believed in him—more than she should have, maybe. But a bit of confidence wasn’t a bad thing, a bit of hope. She needed something to restore her strength.
Some food would help. He went to the door and pounded on it with the side of his fist.
“What are you doing?” she said.
“Getting you some food.”
The lock turned and the door opened. It was Chigaru.
“Hey,” Gabriel said, his voice low. “I want you to bring her some food. Right now. And—hold on.” Chigaru had started to turn away, but Gabriel snagged the front of his shirt in his fist, turned him around. Chiagru looked down at the bunched fabric angrily. “I want you to know something else. If you touch my sister again, I’ll kill you. Do we understand each other?”
“Take your hand off me,” Chigaru said.
“Do we understand each other?”
The look in Gabriel’s eyes was impossible not to understand. Gabriel let go of Chigaru’s shirt, smoothed down the creased fabric. “Good,” he said. “Now—food.”
Gabriel shut the door. He heard Chigaru’s footsteps going away. He’d left it unlocked, and Gabriel thought for a moment of trying to break Lucy out right now, while the door was open and Chigaru was away from his post. But it wasn’t feasible—not with three stories of armed men between them and the tunnel, and not with Lucy barely steady enough to stand. With some food in her, some more time for the drugs to get out of her system . . . maybe. But not yet.
“I’m going to talk to Amun and get him to stop giving you the drugs,” Gabriel said. “I’ll tell him you’re going to be cooperative now.”
“Who’s Amun?”
“Tall guy, goatee, fez?”
She shook her head. “Haven’t met him. Have you seen Khufu yet?”
“Who’s Khufu?”
“The boss around here,” she said. “Calls himself ‘Khufu the Second.’ Like he’s a pharaoh. Carries a scepter, wears a mask, this traditional Egyptian thing . . . He’s the man in charge.”
“I thought Amun was—”
“I don’t know who Amun is,” Lucy said, “but he’s not in charge. You meet Khufu, you know he’s the boss.”
She lay back on the bed. Her eyes were sliding shut, though she was fighting to keep them open.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said. “I don’t want you hurt because of me.”
“What do you mean, shouldn’t have come?” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “I’m your brother. Of course I’m going to come.”
“I bet Michael’s mad at me,” she mumbled.
“He’s worried about you,” Gabriel said.
“He’s always worried. About everything.”
“So he’s more worried than normal. He cares about you, you know.”
“Even though I haven’t talked to him since I was seventeen?”
“Even though,” Gabriel said. “You’re still his sister.”
Her eyes slid shut and this time they stayed shut.
“I’m glad,” she said, her voice very tired, “that at least they’re not
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