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“How are we supposed to do that? With a crowbar?” Sayyid held up the tool in question, which didn’t look like it stood much of a chance against the thick, sturdy columns of stone.
“There must be another way!” Neil pressed desperately.
Sayyid made a cross retort. “Well, let me know when you think of—”
He cut off as he leapt to his feet with a yelp, stumbling away from the column he’d been sitting on.
“What is it?” Neil demanded. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Sayyid replied in strangled tones, making a distinguished effort to straighten his waistcoat. “Just thought I imagined… Yeeeearrggh!”
He danced, hopping from foot to foot in a wild panic, then kicked out his leg.
Something flew from the cuff of his trousers, landing with a little click against the fallen stone column.
Sayyid went still. “Was that a beetle?”
Neil stepped over to investigate.
The fat, glittering form of a black scarab lay on its back in the shadow of the toppled pillar, skinny legs wriggling in the air.
“Er… yes?” Neil offered awkwardly.
Sayyid closed his eyes, shuddering. “It was on my trousers. On. My. Trousers.”
The scarab rocked, then flipped itself. Legs once more on the ground, it skittered off into the shadows beyond the glare of the firebird bone.
Something tickled at the back of Neil’s mind as he stared after it. “Beetles,” he said absently. “Down here. In the quarry.”
“I sincerely hope not,” Sayyid replied fervently, twisting to get a look at the back of his legs.
The pieces suddenly clicked into place. Neil took hold of Sayyid’s shoulders and gave them a shake. “Beetles in the quarry!” he repeated urgently.
“Why?!” Sayyid wailed.
The question was rhetorical rather than a direct inquiry, but Neil answered it nonetheless. “Because they went under the door—the door that Bates said must open intothe middle of the mountain!” He gave Sayyid another shake. “The beetles went under the door, Sayyid! And now they are here in the quarry!”
Sayyid’s eyes widened. “They built the tomb into the quarry. That’s why no one ever found it. They built the tomb into the quarry and then collapsed the entrance!” He gave out a wild laugh. “Those clever devils!”
“Which means that somewhere down here, we will find the other side of the entrance to the tomb!” Neil added.
Sayyid’s expression firmed with determination. “Yes.”
He slipped from Neil’s grasp and hurried into the columns, walking with quick purpose. Neil scurried after him.
“If we can get into the tomb, we can climb back out through the fissure and try to help the others,” Neil reasoned, a little breathless at trying to keep up with Sayyid’s quick pace. “We might still be able todosomething! But… where are we going?”
Sayyid pointed into the gloom beyond the illuminated columns. “Over there. That is where the entrance must be.”
“How do you know?” Neil demanded, bewildered.
Sayyid arched an eyebrow, shifting his arm to the right. “Because we fell into the quarry over there, from the burial chamber. The tunnel from the treasury turned ninety degrees to the left, then up the stairs and around another thirty-degree left before the painted hall.”
He traced out the route with his finger as though drawing it onto the impenetrable darkness that surrounded them. “Haven’t you been paying attention?” he finished impatiently.
Neil stared at Sayyid as a tumult of emotion roiled inside of his chest—then threw his arms around him. “Thank you,” he said, giving Sayyid a fervent squeeze before awkwardly releasing him.
Sayyid stared at him with surprise.
