Silver Tomb (The Lazarus Longman Chronicles Book 2) by P. J. Thorndyke Page A

very aware of a threat edging closer and closer. There was a slow hissing, as of a snake, that galvanized the trio into action, sending them fleeing in the opposite direction. Whatever was coming towards them, they did not want to try and find out if bullets could harm it.
    They took passages at random, hoping to throw whatever it was that was following them off their scent, and eventually emerged in what appeared to be a dead end.
    “We’re trapped!” said Katarina.
    “Wait a minute,” said Petrie, forgetting his fear for a moment. “What’s this?”
    There was a sarcophagus in the center of the room, surrounded by silver ushabtis that were set out like a toy army at its feet. The lid, if the sarcophagus ever had one, had been removed. There was an open coffin within, also lidless, containing a mummy. It was a sad, shriveled brown thing with a silver mask fashioned in the features of a woman.
    “Now who can this be?” said Petrie, approaching the sarcophagus.
    “For God’s sake, man, this is no time to be examining mummies!” said Katarina.
    Indeed, the shuffling sound was approaching the chamber, growing closer and closer, like footsteps in the sand.
    “Now we’re for it!” said Lazarus. “Get ready to open fire. You too Petrie!”
    But Petrie wasn’t listening. He was crouched by the sarcophagus examining the hieroglyphics inscribed on its sides. “This is fabulous! Do you know who this is?”
    “No one cares, Petrie!” Lazarus shouted, the footsteps very close now.
    “This is Kiya! The very same woman whose kohl container I found at Akhetaten. This is her mummy right here!”
    “Really?” asked Lazarus, momentarily interested.
    “God, not you too!” shouted Katarina. “Keep your eyes on that doorway, Longman, and your mind on shooting whatever comes through it!”
    “Right! Sorry.”
    A shape emerged from the gloom. Both Lazarus and Katarina raised their pistols and put their fingers on the triggers, but halted just in time.
    “Oh, please don’t shoot me!” cried a woman’s voice.
    As the figure moved into the light, Lazarus instinctively lowered his weapon. Katarina kept hers trained on the woman, not trusting anything or anyone right now.
    “I heard voices and was intrigued,” said the woman. “Tell me, how did you three come to be down here?”
    She was beautiful, and her voice hinted at exotic parts. Her hair was black and fell loosely over slender shoulders. Her dress was not so different to Katarina’s, being attire suited to a female in rugged terrain, and as in Katarina’s case, this was in no way unflattering. But it was her eyes that caught Lazarus’s attention. They were dark and heavy-lidded, a smoky hazel color.
    “Mademoiselle Rousseau?” Lazarus hazarded.
    “Yes,” she replied. “And yes, that is indeed Kiya in the sarcophagus, poor woman.”
    “Mmm?” answered Petrie who had not even turned around to take note of the newcomer, so infatuated he was with his discovery. “Oh? Yes. Fascinating! Fascinating!” He then seemed to remember himself and spun around before bowing low. “Mademoiselle Rousseau, it is an honor to finally meet you. Your work at KV55 had me green with envy, positively green. It is a great pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
    Eleanor Rousseau seemed amused by the young man and smiled. “The honor is mine, Mr. Petrie.”
    “Oh? Ah! You seem to know me… but how?”
    “Your stupendous work on the pyramids at Gizah has ensured your immortality amongst us Egyptologists,” she replied. “And your excavations at Akhetaten have captured my heart for that place is so dear to me.”
    “My dear,” said Petrie, “your work in uncovering this city of the moon has far surpassed anything I have done or could ever hope to achieve.”
    “But I am unacquainted with your two associates,” said Rousseau.
    “Allow me to introduce them! This is my good friend Lazarus Longman, a fellow Englishman and fellow Egyptologist, although that is but