The Akhemkare Curse

The air shimmered with heat as Ms. Marlowe and her team of five-Time Sleuths—Emma, Sam, Jake, Ben, and Lily—emerged from the swirling vortex onto the scorching Egyptian sands. The abrupt transition from their previous cold classroom to the intense heat of the desert left them momentarily disoriented. In the distance, the sprawling city of Cairo lay like a mirage against the horizon.

The Tomb of Pharaoh Akhemkare loomed ominously against the golden backdrop of the Egyptian desert. Unlike the more famous pyramids, this structure was smaller, with a uniquely steep angle and intricate carvings that hinted at its ancient origins.

The stone exterior, weathered by centuries of sandstorms, bore faint hieroglyphs that spoke of the pharaoh's forgotten reign. Surrounding the pyramid, the sands seemed almost alive, whispering tales of the past as the wind sculpted shifting dunes around the sacred site.

There were tents and equipment scattered about the dig site. Makeshift tables held delicate artefacts, carefully unearthed and meticulously catalogued. Dusty crates were filled with pottery shards, ancient tools, and fragments of long-buried statues. A canvas awning protected the workers from the heat of the sun.

Nearby, a series of deep trenches and excavated corridors led into the bowels of the pyramid, revealing a labyrinth of passageways and chambers that promised both untold treasures and unforeseen dangers.

Ms. Marlowe, ever composed, quickly gathered her bearings. She brushed off the sand from her attire and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat to shield herself from the relentless sun.

"You know, kids, detention is starting to feel like a well-deserved break from reality," Ben squinted in the harsh sun, taking in the surrounding landscape. "So, what brings us here again?"

"Class! Welcome to Egypt! Early twentieth century," Ms. Marlowe announced, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. "This is the final resting place for Pharaoh Akhemkare, a little-known ruler whose reign was marked by efforts to unify and strengthen Egypt's borders against invaders.” She removed her Journal of Curiosities. She studied an article affixed to the page. “It was said, that Akhemkare possessed profound wisdom and mystical knowledge, which he safeguarded within his tomb.” She closed the journal and placed it away, “A tomb that has just been opened."

Emma wore a practical, yet stylish ensemble suited for the harsh desert climate. She had on a lightweight khaki shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, paired with sturdy cargo pants. Her wide-brimmed hat, adorned with a colourful scarf, shielded her fair skin from the sun. Sensible hiking boots completed her outfit, and a leather satchel hung across her shoulder containing her notebook.

Jake was dressed in a simple linen shirt and loose, breathable trousers. His shirt was a light shade of beige to reflect the sun's rays, and he wore a well-worn fedora that gave him a slightly adventurous air. His boots were scuffed but reliable, and he carried a small backpack containing water, snacks, and a basic first aid kit.

Sam opted for a more modern approach. He wore a moisture-wicking t-shirt in a dark olive hue and cargo shorts with plenty of pockets for his gadgets. A lightweight windbreaker was tied around his waist, and a baseball cap with a reflective visor sat atop his head. His sturdy sneakers were ideal for the rugged terrain.

Ben stood out with his eccentric fashion choices, embracing a style that was uniquely his own. He wore a bright, patterned Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned over a graphic tee featuring an obscure band logo, a nod to his eclectic tastes. His trousers were a mismatched pair of cargo shorts and suspenders, patched together in various colours and patterns, showcasing his disregard for conventional fashion norms. A pair of mismatched socks peeked out from his rugged hiking boots, one neon green and the other bright pink. What stood out the most was the Dame Edna style sunglasses that he wore.

Lily, the vibrant and creative spirit of the group, wore an outfit that balanced practicality with her unique artistic flair. She donned a lightweight, loose-fitting blouse in a vibrant turquoise hue, which stood out against the desert backdrop. The blouse had delicate embroidery around the neckline, reflecting her love for intricate details. Paired with this were comfortable, wide-legged linen pants in a sandy beige colour, allowing for ease of movement and breathability in the hot climate.

Her accessories included a colourful, patterned scarf tied around her head, to protect her from the sun and to add a touch of personal style. Lily also wore sturdy but stylish ankle boots, perfect for navigating the uneven terrain of the dig site. Over one shoulder, she carried a satchel containing her sketch pad, pencils and a torch.

Ms. Marlowe frowned, as she took in the site. No movement. She scanned the horizon spotting a camp, "I think it is wise for me to introduce myself to the archaeological team." How strange! No movement up there either. “You are all to remain here. I won’t be long.”

Ms. Marlowe sauntered off toward the camp site. Jake was not one for staying put. He followed at a discreet distance.

The others sat under the awning to wait. Lily was sketching the artifacts while Ben wondered if they were worth anything. Emma sat away unusually subdued, a hint of embarrassment.

Sam sighed, the tension emanating from her needed to be nipped in the butt, "Hey! You're not still worried about what happened?" He sighed when she didn't respond, "At least, you didn't fart! It was just a little drool on my shoulder."

"Ducks!" She smirked, "I'd rather have farted. I was so mortified when Kenny Ellis started to tease us."

"It's a pity he fell down those bus steps like that," Sam smirked. "He always was a clumsy clod-hopper."

Meanwhile, Lily ventured into the shadowy interior of the pyramid with a mix of awe and determination, her sketchbook clutched tightly under one arm. The dim light from her torch flickered against the walls, revealing an array of ancient hieroglyphics that danced across the stone like whispers from the past.

Her artist’s eye was captivated by the intricate patterns and vivid scenes that depicted the life and times of Pharaoh Akhemkare. As she carefully sketched the symbols, her excitement grew—these hieroglyphics held secrets and stories waiting to be uncovered.

**********

Ms. Marlowe’s heart raced as she pushed aside the flap of the tent, only to be met with a chilling sight. Inside, the lifeless body of one of the archaeologists lay sprawled on the ground, his face contorted in an expression of terror, while another one lay on a cot bed, writhing in death.

Strange, iridescent beetles, their carapaces glistening in the dim light, were swarming over them, feasting on the remnants of their flesh. The sight was both grotesque and surreal, the beetles moving with a disturbing, methodical precision.

Jake arrived moments later; his face paled even more as he took in the grim spectacle. “What on the fuck...” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he stepped closer. The beetles continued their horrific feast, indifferent to his presence, “This... this is enough to bring up everything I have ever eaten."

"I told you all to wait for me," Ms. Marlowe sighed, "Jake, you really do need to actively listen when I am speaking."

"Not the first time a teacher has said that to me," Jake replied.

"This all seems to be for show," Ms. Marlowe nodded, her expression steely with resolve despite the gruesome discovery. “Beetles don't usually amass in this quantity unless in a film script. This is likely to perpetuate that silly curse."

"A curse! Like voodoo and stuff?"

"Voodoo is a different matter entirely," The teacher continued, as she examined the offerings in the tent. "A curse is usually the stuff of mankind not a calling card from the ancients." She turned to face him, a mischievous smirk on her face, "But I am always open to be proven incorrect."

Ms. Marlowe ushered him from the tent. Jake pointed at something approaching them in the distance.

The sound of a rumbling T Model Ford disrupted the eerie silence at the campsite, its dusty tyres kicking up a cloud of sand as it came to a stop. The vehicle’s door swung open, revealing a tall man with a commanding presence.

Dressed in a tailored khaki suit and a wide-brimmed hat, he exuded an air of both authority and charisma.

Ms. Marlowe and Jake watched with curiosity as he stepped out, his sharp blue eyes scanning the scene with a mixture of intrigue and concern.

He introduced himself as Jonathan Hargroves, an esteemed investigator from the Institute for Paranormal Anomalies in England, “There were reports of a cursed site. I’ve been sent to assess the situation and determine what we’re really dealing with here.” he said, his voice rich and smooth with a hint of a British accent. "Apparently, the embassy has lost contact with the team. Are you the team?"

"Not quite. I'm Ms. Marlowe," The woman said, "I’m here with my students. We're on a little excursion."

As she spoke, his gaze met Ms. Marlowe’s, and there was an immediate, unmistakable spark between them. The connection was electric, their mutual recognition of each other's presence almost palpable. Ms. Marlowe offered a warm smile, her professional demeanour momentarily giving way to an intriguing glimmer of personal interest.

“Ms. Marlowe." As Jonathan Hargroves extended his hand in greeting, the brief touch lingered, and an unspoken understanding seemed to pass between them. "You are indeed a rare gem to be found in this harsh landscape."

"I call bull shit!" Jake snickered.

"Come, Mr. Hargroves," The teacher took his arm giving Jake a disapproving glance, "I think you'll find this most interesting."

"I bet he does," Jake smirked, sarcastically.

Ms. Marlowe led he man into the tent while Jake smirked.

***********

Inside the pyramid, Lily was still engrossed in her work when she felt the ground shift ominously. A hidden trapdoor gave way. She dropped into empty air. She reached out, grabbing onto the edge of the trap door with one hand while the other pressed the sketch pad to her body. She looked down as her torch fell into the abyss.

Her heart pounded in her chest; her usual anxieties heightened before someone reached down to grab her wrist. She was pulled to safety by Ben.

Lily, shaken but unharmed, looked up at Ben with gratitude, “Thank you. I didn’t see the trap.”

“You did let me crash at your place, so guess this makes us even now,” Ben hated any sort of praise. Lily was already moving further into the chamber. “It might be best if we get back to the others.”

“I think we should give them some space,” Lily said, examining the way ahead. “Something’s brewing with them.”

“Sam and Em?” Ben scuffed the dirt floor. “I haven’t noticed anything.”

“That’s because you’ve been obsessed with the Jake and Alex situation.”

“Which has surprisingly cooled!” Ben smirked. “Like last Sunday's burnt toast.” He took her arm, “But seriously, we should get back to the others. This place…we really shouldn’t be.”

Lily’s eyes widened, “Ben, don’t you dare move a muscle. We’re never going to get a chance like this again. I want to see what other secrets are here.”

Ben groaned as if agony. He was sure this would not end well. Yet Lily was already searching ahead.

He spotted a torch affixed to a nearby wall. He removed a lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. There must have been a build-up of wax and gunk in the torch holder as it quickly burst into flames, illuminating the next section of the chamber, “Okay! You get ten more minutes than we’re going back.”

“Yes, father!”

He removed the torch from the holder and shone the way forward.

The walls converged on a small opening no more than a tunnel. Lily stepped aside so Ben could go first. He did have the torch after all.

He began to lead them through the tunnel. Dust and cobwebs impeded their journey. Scorpions scuttled clear of them as the fire came closer.

They eventually emerged into the next chamber. They were once more able to stand upright, which helped Ben’s aching back.

Suddenly, Lily knelt on the mosaic floor, her fingers brushing dust away from carved symbols like she was unwrapping a present. She took her sketchbook from her bag and began copying the shapes with clean, sure lines — reeds, waves, sun disc.

“Alright, serious question.” Ben spoke. “Since when do you moonlight as an ancient Egyptian translator?”

Lily didn’t look up. Her pencil moved fast but precise, “I don’t consider it translating. I interpret. These aren’t words as such — they’re pictures that behave like words.”

Ben tilted his head, trying, “Like… a game of charades?”

Lily paused. She blinked, “Actually… yes.”

Ben’s eyebrows shot up, “No way. I accidentally understood something academic?”

“Academic! This is art!? She looked straight at him, delighted, “I don’t consider hieroglyphs as letters. They’re performances of meaning. You put symbols together the way you stage a play.”

Ben lit up — theatre was his mother tongue, “So if I cast the reed symbol as Hamlet, the sun symbol as… dramatic lighting—”

Lily pointing excitedly, “And the wave symbol is movement or emotion. Exactly. You stage them together to tell a story.”

Ben stared at her as if she had just unlocked the universe, “So this tile layout? It's a script.”

Lily nodded, flushed with excitement, “Everything here is composition. Egyptians didn’t seem to separate art from language. They designed sentences. They even wrote in the direction the birds faced — like stage blocking.”

Ben leaned closer, “Kid! You’re telling me they knew the fundamentals of stagecraft?”

“Yes. If you like. Way before Shakespeare,” Lily pointed to the tile sequence: reed → wave → sun, “Akhemkare. That’s his name. His throne-name. They're telling part of his story.”

Ben stared at the carvings, then at Lily, genuinely moved by how thrilled she was, “But how do you know all this?”

Lily moved to another tile, sketching its shape into her notebook with quick, fluid strokes, “Last year I found this book in the library discard pile — Gardner’s Sign List. It’s like the periodic table of hieroglyphics. I started copying them to practice linework, and then I realised they follow patterns.”

Ben leaned closer, curious despite himself, “Patterns like… phonetic symbols?”

Lily’s eyebrows shot up.. “Wow. You really do listen in class.”

“It is all Sam’s doing. He explains everything to me later, or I end up retaining only every third word.”

Lily laughed — a light sound that warmed the dusty air, “It started as a drawing exercise. Symbols are perfect for practicing precision. But then I got nerdy about it. I started researching how scribes used direction, how you can tell which way to read based on where the birds face, how the pharaohs encoded names using solar discs—” Lily stopped, “Art is the only place where I never feel…wrong. I get lost in shapes and lines and meaning — and all my self-doubt eases.”

Ben swallowed, “That’s how I feel when I’m on stage.” He said it lightly, “On stage, I can be anyone else but me. I can exist in another world…away from the crap that is my life.”

Lily’s gaze snapped to his face, reading a truth he hadn’t meant to reveal. He quickly redirected with bravado.

“Enough about me! What’s this all saying?”

She pointed: Reed → Wave → Sun disc, “Akhemkare. We follow his name, we follow his story.” Lily lit up at that and nodded, “The floor is our script.” She pointed at the jackal tile, “And that’s Anubis. We do not enter that scene.” She pointed to the reed tile, “That one is safe. I’m sure of it.”

He lifted his foot carefully and stepped on the reed tile.

CLICK.

The walls gave a soft grinding noise — like an ancient lock acknowledging them.

Lily excited whisper, “Something is happening…I could literally pee my pants with excitement.”

They moved forward tile by tile. Reed. Wave. Sun. Each step triggered a low rumble in the stone. Sand trickled from the ceiling like a countdown.

At the end of the sequence, a final tile showed a falcon — the symbol of protection.

Lily pressed her palm against it.

KA-THOOM.

The floor shook. A section of the wall slid downward, revealing a hidden chamber. Ben’s jaw dropped, “Okay. That was objectively badass.”

Lily grinned, breathless with adrenaline, “Art opens doors.”

*********

The desert had a way of swallowing sound. Even though Ben and Lily had only disappeared down the stone chute minutes earlier, the silence that settled after them felt dense and old, like the air remembered secrets it refused to share.

Emma sat on a low block of limestone near the entrance, in the shadows, fanning herself with her hat. Heat shimmered above the sand, making the distant dunes ripple like water.

Sam crouched nearby, fiddling with the junk-filled survival kit he insisted on carrying. His knee bounced nervously.

Emma watched the tomb opening and tried to pretend her heart wasn’t racing, “They’ve been gone too long.”

Sam didn’t look up, “It’s been four minutes.”

“Four very long minutes.”

“You once waited forty-five minutes in a line to get bubble tea.”

“That was different, ducks,” she said. “There were toppings.”

A small smile ghosted across Sam’s face. He was trying to distract her, she knew. It helped. Until her thoughts did what thoughts always did — they circled back to Kenny Ellis.

Her stomach tightened.

Sam noticed. He always did, even if he didn’t understand the why.

He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, “Hey, Kenny was just being an idiot as usual. This is the same kid who couldn’t even cheat on an exam successfully even when he had the answers tattooed to his body.”

Emma pulled her hat lower to shadow her expression, “It wasn’t just the dribble,” she muttered. “It was what he said after. Kenny was being racist. And you didn’t seem to care.”

Sam scoffed softly. “Trust me, I care. I’ve just… built a system.” He shrugged, forcing lightness, “I have been called far worse than your ‘Mocha Delight.’”

Emma’s head snapped up, “Don’t.”

Sam arched a brow, “It’s almost poetic. Coffee imagery. Very barista-core.”

“Sam.” Her voice cracked. “He looked at you like you were—like you were some novelty flavour he gets to comment on.”

Sam’s mouth twitched into a sideways smirk — the kind that tried to turn pain into punchlines, “Hey, at least I wasn’t ‘Spicy Hot Chocolate.’ That one was Year Eight. Real creative peak.”

Emma stared at him, jaw tightening, “Why are you joking about this?”

“Because if I don’t joke, I’m angry,” Sam said simply.

The honesty of it dropped between them like a stone.

“I just…” Emma swallowed. “I hated that he said it like you were less. And everyone laughed.”

Sam looked down at his hands, picking at a frayed thread on his shorts, “That’s the part I’m used to.”

“Well!” Emma burst out. “You shouldn’t have to ‘get used to it.’”

He finally met her gaze, eyes dark and tired, “Emma, I pick my battles. I don’t have the energy to fight every idiot who thinks I’m a punchline.” He leaned in closer, “We have been friends for a very long time, and this is the first time this has come up. Why now?”

“I…well…we’re friends,” Emma stammered, not wanting to share her true feelings. It was different now. She seemed much more invested in Sam, “I guess…detention has made me much more aware.” Emma leaned forward, voice low and fierce, “Kenny Ellis doesn’t get to decide how people see you. He doesn’t get to shrink you down to some—label.” Sam blinked, startled by her ferocity. Emma wasn’t done, “And if he ever talks about you like that again,” she said, “I will shrink him.”

Sam snorted, “You’re five-foot-two.”

“Ducks! I’m five-foot-two with rage and a hydration schedule,” she corrected. “Do not test me.”

A beat of silence followed.

Sam’s smirk softened into something real, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being mad. For noticing.”

Emma nudged his shoulder gently, “Always.”

Their eyes caught one another. There was a moment between them when the desert around them just ebbed away.

He looked away, feeling a little embarrassed suddenly, “I want to thank you for coming stargazing with me…even though a cloud bank got in our way…and I bought stale chips.”

“Ducks!” Emma cracked a reluctant smile, “At least, you weren’t the one who spilled Sprite on your telescope.”

“I do think pledging to quit school and become a cam girl to pay for a new one was a bit extreme,” Sam laughed, “I liked spending time with you.”

Sam finally looked at her — really looked at her. The way he saw things that mattered without noticing he was seeing them. Emma blinked. She did not expect this level of intensity coming from him. “We should do it again sometime…when we get back home.”

Her throat tightened. There was a tightness in her chest that seemed to increase.

***********

The new chamber was cooler—almost unnaturally so. The shift in temperature hit them instantly, like stepping from a furnace into a stone cathedral. The air held the faint scent of resin and something metallic, like old coins and forgotten breath.

Ben lifted the torch higher. Firelight rippled across the walls, revealing faded murals flaking into dust. A cracked funerary mural showed a procession of figures kneeling before a jackal-headed god. Gold leaf remnants shimmered beneath soot and age.

Jars. Scroll fragments. A sarcophagus resting like a stone heartbeat in the center of the room. All the enthusiasm drained from Lily’s face.

“Oh,” she breathed. “It’s not just a chamber. It’s a burial room.”

The weight of it—the reality of it—settled over her like dust. She had wanted discovery. She had forgotten about disturbance.

Ben turned to her, torch crackling in his hand, ready to make some joke to ease her face, when—

hissssssss

They froze. The sound didn’t come from ahead. It came from above.

A shape dropped from a dark vent in the wall and hit the stone with a wet, heavy sound. A snake. Its scales caught the firelight with an oily sheen as it slithered forward, tongue flicking to taste the air.

Lily’s breath hitched as a second snake slid through a hole between two painted reeds on the mural. Then a third and a fourth pushed out from crevices along the floor.

The realisation hit her like ice water. The “decorative vents” in the murals… weren’t decorative. They were release points.

Ben’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Okay. Stay very still.”

But the snakes were already spreading, forming a shifting semicircle around the sarcophagus, their bodies weaving over one another like living ropes. They weren’t attacking yet—they were herding.

Lily’s voice shook, “I think they’re guarding him. Guarding the dead.”

Ben swallowed and lifted the torch higher, flame casting frantic shadows. A dozen slick bodies twisted into view. Then another dozen, “I never thought my Indiana Jones Fan Fiction would ever come to life.”

Lily pressed against him, clutching his shirt. The sound of the snakes in motion—like thousands of dry leaves whispering against stone.

Ben shifted his stance. Torch forward. Lily behind him. No sudden moves.

The snakes weren’t blind. They watched.

Slowly, deliberately, Ben swept the torch in a wide arc. Heat and flame drove the nearest serpents back; their bodies recoiled on instinct, scales flashing before disappearing into cracks.

“Keep close,” he murmured.

He guided her step by step toward the entrance, torch slicing a narrow path through the crawling mass. The chamber felt smaller by the second as snakes slipped from unseen gaps, from vents carved as art, from alcoves disguised as shadow.

Lily forced a whisper, “Ben… I shouldn’t have opened it. I may have disturbed things best left alone.”

He didn’t look away from the torch or the snakes, “Well…can’t help it now. We just gotta make things right.”

Her grip on him tightened. The snakes pressed closer. Ben swept the torch again, creating a burning curtain. More snakes recoiled, “Almost there,” he said, voice rough.

They reached the edge of the original chamber. The shift in air—warm, dry, sunlit—felt like a lifeline. Ben kept the torch raised until they crossed the final threshold.

Only then did he allow his arm to lower, chest heaving.

The last thing Lily saw before they turned away was the sarcophagus—still shrouded in shadow, still guarded by the rippling ring of asps.

Lily pressed the stone once again. The chamber was sealed. The snakes left writhing in the darkness.

Ben took her hand leading her out into the sunlight. He let the torch fall onto the sand and stamped it out.

Emma and Sam rushed forward, voices overlapping.

“Where have you been?!”

“What happened?”

“You were gone forever!”

Lily couldn’t speak yet. She only stood there, hands tremoring around her sketchbook.

Ben swallowed and managed only one word, hoarse and certain, “I hate snakes!”

Lily’s eyes flicked back toward the darkness of the tomb, “No, they were guardians.”

The tomb had allowed them in. Not to get too close. It had warned them out when they did.

The sunlight outside the tomb was blinding. It took Lily a moment to register that she was standing on hot sand again and not slippery stone. She retreated to the shade of the awning. She pressed her palm against her sternum as if to force air back into her lungs.

Ben dropped onto an overturned crate next to her. Emma and Sam hovered. Lily removed the sketch pad from her bag, flipping to the hieroglyphics she had drawn there. She began to study them intently, reading their message growing even more disturbed as time went on.

*********

Dust plumed behind the model T-ford as Hargroves sped across the desert flats. He looked a little pale himself after venturing inside the tent. Ms Marlowe sat beside him, smirk on her face, while Jake sat in the back, staring at the undulating desert.

Appearing before them, three riders sat atop camels at the base of the ridge. Robed, still as carved obsidian, their faces shadowed by traditional keffiyeh scarves. Their presence felt wrong, not because they were out of place, but because they looked like they had been waiting.

The car was abruptly brought to a stop, “What the devil are these chaps up to?”

One rider dismounted, moving like part of the sand itself. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of desert nights and unbroken lineage, “You must leave here!” The man lifted his hand — not threatening, but commanding silence, “You disturb the sleep of Akhemkare.”

Ms Marlowe glanced into the back seat, “Stay here, Mr….”

She stepped out of the car, approaching the man.

Mr Hargroves joined her thinking it was proper of him to protect the woman, “We have permits to be here, you scoundrels! You bullying tactics will not work on us. I shall have you flogged for this.”

“Mr Hargroves! That will do! You are not helping matters.”

The man’s eye furrowed darkly, “The dead do not care what papers you use when you wake them.” Mr Hargrove’s felt a chill, his body turning ice cold at the man’s gaze, “They will bring dark foreboding to your days until you leave this place.” The man’s eyes flicked past Ms Marlowe and Hargroves, landing squarely on Jake as he stepped out of the car.
“You refuse wisdom,” he said softly. “Then perhaps you will heed its consequence when one so young is afflicted.”

A hot wind whipped the edges of Jake’s shirt.

The nomad knelt and pressed his palm flat to the desert floor. With his free hand, he scooped a fistful of sand, lifted it into the air — then let it fall.

Except—it didn’t fall.

The grains hung suspended in a shimmer of heat, frozen in mid-air as though the desert itself had stopped breathing.

Jake’s stomach dropped.

The nomad’s finger traced a symbol through the floating particles — deliberate, precise — the ancient curve of the Eye of Horus.

The instant the symbol completed—Jake’s ribs detonated with pain.

White-hot, blinding. Like invisible hands crushing his chest inward.

“Ah—!” He doubled over, a strangled cry tearing from his throat. His vision fractured into sharp black spots.

“Jake!” Ms Marlowe caught him before he hit the sand. Her hands were firm, grounding, trying to anchor him against something that wasn’t physical. “Jake, look at me. Stay with me.”

The nomad opened his fist. The sand dropped.

Jake collapsed fully, knees slamming into the ground. The pain didn’t lessen. It ripped through him, claws raking across bone and nerve, as if something inside was trying to tear its way out.

He folded into himself, clutching his ribs, “WHAT—the fuck— DID YOU—” He could barely breathe, the words breaking.

The nomad’s voice was solemn, “The sand obeys only those who belong to it.”

Jake’s vision swam. His heart thrashed against his ribs like a trapped bird. He couldn’t get air. Couldn’t scream. Could only curl into the sand, curling around the pain like a wounded animal.

“STOP THIS!” Ms Marlowe demanded. “He is an innocent here.”

The man didn’t blink, “He crossed where he did not belong. He stepped onto soil that he had no place to be.”

Hargroves lunged toward the nomad, sputtering indignantly, “You’re hurting the boy! You cad—”

The nomad’s stare was colder than stone, “You ignore warnings. You mock the ancients. Their patience is not endless.”

Jake sucked in a shaky breath — to scream, to beg, to curse — he was not sure which. He curled into the foetal position, choking.

Ms Marlowe knelt and cradled him, fierce and gentle all at once, “It’s okay, Jake. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Her voice trembled. Her hands did not. She swallowed hard and looked up at the nomad, “If we leave…” her voice cracking under the weight of the question, “…does it stop?”

The nomad’s gaze softened — not with pity, but acknowledgment, “If you leave the shadow of the pyramid, and never return, the desert will release the child.” His eyes darkened to obsidian, “Collect the others. Leave this place. We will be watching.”

There was no threat in the words. Just certainty.

He turned, taking the reins of his camel, the other guardians following him silently into the desert — as if the dunes swallowed them whole.

Silence crashed around them.

Ms Marlowe slid an arm under Jake’s shoulders, lifting him gently. His weight was slack against her, breath shuddering.

Jake didn’t speak. He couldn’t.

Ms Marlowe guided him back into the back seat of the car, then climbed in beside him — placing his head against her shoulder, her arms around him like a shield.

Hargroves climbed in and gripped the steering wheel.

Ms Marlowe held Jake tighter, “I will get you home safely,” she whispered, voice cracking in a way Jake had never heard, “I promise.”

Hargroves drove toward the pyramid. The shadow of the tomb stretched before them. And somewhere beneath the sand, something ancient stirred.

*********

Lily's hands still trembled slightly as she looked up from her notes. “These hieroglyphics detail a curse,” she explained, pointing to the intricate symbols. “The inscriptions speak of a powerful curse meant to protect the tomb from desecration."

Ms Marlowe appeared mysteriously beside her, “You went into the pyramid!” she furrowed her brow. “That was extremely reckless. These sites are full of dangers to preserve the Pharoah’s offerings and effects.”

“Well, we sure know that now,” Ben added. Jake appeared beside him looking pale, and trembling in pain, “What happened to you?”

“Oh dear! Unfortunately, Mr ….has had a curse put on him,” The woman sighed, “We need to leave this place.” She pointed toward Mr Hargroves’, “This man has offered us a lift.”

Sam took a moment to reflect, his gaze distant as he considered the significance of the pyramid. “You know,” he began, his voice carrying a tone of reverence, “these pyramids remind me a lot of sacred sites back home. These pyramids are more than just old stones—they’re deeply connected to the people who built them and their spiritual beliefs.” He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. “We have sacred places that we don’t disturb, because tampering with them can bring about consequences we’re not prepared for. It’s the same here. This tomb isn’t just a piece of history; it’s a place that was meant to be left undisturbed. We don't belong here. No one does."

His comparison highlighted the profound respect he felt for both his heritage and the ancient Egyptian traditions, serving as a sobering reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating.

"I agree with the little darkie," Mr. Hargroves said, impressed, until he saw the twin volcanos burst forth in Sam's eyes. "Hey! I meant no offence!"

Sam clenched his fists ready to use them, "Well you did any way."

Ms. Marlow stepped between them, "I'm afraid that this gentleman's attitude is common in this time." She walked her student away from him, "One of the perils of walking through the past."

"Look! I'm sorry at any offence," The man said, "I would be happy to provide food and lodgings as compensation."

"But we're not staying! I can't!" Jake piped, his pain and discomfort seem to pale in comparison to his failed date. "I've got to get home. I have a date tonight...This is chance for Alex and me to get back what he forgotten."

“Oh dear! The boy speaks again,” Ms. Marlowe turned, a mischievous look in her eyes, "We could spend a week here and the vortex would still get you home in time for your date." Her forehead furrowed slightly, "But I can never ever take you back before we actually left...oh no...I really have patience for only one Jake at a time."

Jonathan Hargroves drove in strained silence, the battered T-Model Ford rattling over the dirt track toward Cairo. The students were crammed together in the back seat, bodies jostling with every rut in the road.

Ms Marlowe and Jake sat up front. He slumped against the window, drenched in sweat, breath shallow. With every metre they put between themselves and the pyramid, the pressure in his ribs loosened — at first a faint easing, then a slow unwinding, like unseen fingers releasing their grip on his bones. The pain that had tormented him only minutes ago withdrew in waves, ebbing like a tide. By the time the jagged outline of the tomb disappeared behind a dune, Jake drew a deep breath without choking. They had kept their word.

**********

The car finally came to a halt in front of the stately embassy building, its grandeur providing a stark contrast to the chaos they had just left behind.

Inside, the cool air of the embassy was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside. Jonathan guided them through the elegant hallways to the guest quarters.

“Please, make yourselves comfortable,” he said. “I’ll arrange for some food to be brought up. You all deserve a proper meal and a chance to freshen up after the long day.”

It wasn't long before servants brought clothing apparel for the group. Ms. Marlowe declined the offer.

The students eagerly freshened up. The boys were changing into light, breathable garments, in their shared room. Ben glanced across at Jake, his taut body on display. The kid was fit. No longer the dumpy awkward boy. There it was again. The shot to Ben’s body that quickened his heartbeat.

He shut his eyes, blotting out the image. He felt someone touch his arm, “Hey! Benny! You okay! You look…bloody flushed.” Of course it was Jake standing behind him. His breath teasing the hairs at the nape of Ben’s neck. “You haven’t even gotten out of your skivvies.” He felt mortified when Jake whipped off his shirt. Then came the silence.

Ben opened his eyes, taking a moment to notice how close Jake’s naked torse was to his own, the heat from their bodies shortened his breath, before turning to see the disturbed look on Jake’s face.

There was a bruise on Ben’s back. The same shape as a size 9 boot. Jake couldn’t look away from it, “Who fuckin did it?” Ben tried to hide his naked body with the light tunic, “It was him again…wasn’t it?”

“Stop! Jake! It’s fine! I can handle it.”

Jake turned him swiftly around, his fingers examining the bruise. Ben gasped, not from pain. His touch was enticing, “He can’t keep doing this!”

Ben notice that Jake was becoming emotional. The boy grabbed him by and arms, facing him, firmly, “Hey! I’m fine! Please don’t worry.”

“It’s bull shit!” Jake pushed him away, “He is hurting you.”

“No! It’s me and my big mouth. If you haven’t noticed, I can get extra lippy sometimes.”

“That’s fucked and you know it. He did this. Not you.”

Ben glared at him, “Oh! So you finally noticed now Alex isn’t around so much! You all present and attentive.” He leant in closer to Jake, “So where were you when I needed somewhere to go? Off with Alex…I don’t need you or anyone else sticking their noses into my business. Got it!”

Ben pushed passed him, putting on his tunic, as he stormed from the room, almost bowling Sam over as he came back into the room. He looked over at Jake, “What! Lover’s tiff?”

“Get stuffed!”

It was Jake’s turn to storm out now. Sam shook his head. Boys could be so difficult some times.

**********

The sun continued to set, casting a soft, ambient light over the embassy grounds. Ms. Marlowe took her students to an open window and made them take a good look outside. This is what her lessons were all about.

The three boys slowly but surely began to shake off their disagreements gazing at the cityscape stretched out before them. It was bathed in a warm, amber glow. The bustling streets, alive with the movement, seemed to slow as the evening approached. The distant minarets and domes of mosques cast elongated shadows across the rooftops, their silhouettes stark against the vibrant sky. The golden light illuminated the intricate patterns of the city’s architecture, highlighting the historic charm of early 20th-century Cairo.

The air was filled with a gentle breeze, carrying the distant sounds of the city’s lively markets and the soft, melodious call to prayer. As they stood in awe, the scene before them felt both timeless and enchanting, a reminder of the rich tapestry of history and culture they were about to explore.

Jonathan, who was overseeing the meal arrangements, nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Cairo is a city of endless wonder. A slight delay in your plans will only add to the flavour of your experiences.”

As the sumptuous feast unfolded in the embassy’s dining room, the rich aromas of roasted lamb, spiced rice, and freshly baked bread filled the air. The group eagerly dug into the meal; their plates piled high with delectable dishes. Their moods elevated by the food.

An Egyptian servant, discreetly attending to them, lingering near the edge of the room.

Jake glanced across at Ben, hesitated, before nudging him in the side, playfully, “I’m…sorry…ok! I just worry about you.”

“I know,” Ben paused, fork halfway to his mouth, “He’s my dad. He is all I’ve got now.”

Jake leaned closer, “Bull shit! You’ve got us too.”

Ben smiled, glancing across at him, “Thanks a bunch.”

“Let’s hug it out,” Sam grabbed them in a hug, “Friends again.”

Sam gives them both a hearty squeeze before letting them go. Jake smiles across at Ben once more before returning to his meal.

Lily finally spoke up, her excitement palpable as she shared her latest findings, “While I was examining the hieroglyphics more closely,” she began, her voice rising above the hum of conversation, “I discovered something crucial about the curse.” Her eyes sparkled with intensity as she continued. “The inscriptions reveal a way to break the curse. It involves a ceremonial act of restoration—a ritual that must be performed at the site using specific symbols found within the pyramid.” She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in. “We need to recreate the ritual to appease the spirits and lift the curse.”

“No way am I going back there,” Jake spat.

“I’m sure this ritual would release you too from any future harm,” As Lily spoke, the servant's eyes, dark and intense, fixed on her as she described the ritual. His demeanour shifting from professional attentiveness to one of palpable unease. He exchanged a glance with another servant who had come to relieve him. The information Lily was sharing seemed to strike a nerve, and it was clear that the servant was not pleased with what he had heard.

As the evening wore on and the sun dipped below the horizon, Emma and Lily retreated to their shared room in the embassy, eager for a quiet moment away from the bustling dining area. The room was a modest sanctuary, adorned with simple furnishings and a large window that offered a view of the city.

Emma wrinkled her nose at the stench, “The smell reminds me of my mother’s yurt after summer solstice.” She raised her eyebrows, “Not entirely an unpleasant aroma.” Her face fell, “Just don’t tell her I said that or she’ll want me to join next time.”

"Look! Enough about the yurt," Lily started, not sure how to approach the subject. "So…I've noticed you staring a little too interestedly at Sam." Emma looked on aghast, "You even get this rouge effect when he comes near. So, when did that all happen?"

"Shh! Ducks! Don't broadcast it to the whole embassy," Emma cringed, pulled her closer. "It's just a little crush! Nothing more." She thumped her leg, "I should never have gone star gazing with him, but he was just so excited about some meteor shower."

Their conversation was abruptly cut short when the door creaked open and the Egyptian servant slipped inside, his face a mask of feigned concern. “I’m here to bring you some additional refreshments,” he said smoothly, but his eyes betrayed a sinister glint while holding out a tray containing two glasses of what looked like milk.

Emma and Lily didn't think anything was strange until another servant came behind them through the open window.

The girls turned back as they heard the tray hit the ground. The servant lunged at them, clamping a hand over Emma’s mouth. Lily’s attempt to scream was smothered by the other man’s forceful grip. Emma and Lily struggled fiercely, their hands flailing as they tried to break free.

The room erupted into chaos, their desperate movements causing furniture to topple and objects to crash to the floor. Despite their valiant efforts, the strength and coordination of their captors proved too much.

Within moments, the two girls were subdued and bound. The servants, showing no hint of hesitation, dragged them through the open window to their waiting transport below.

***********

Ms. Marlowe and Jonathan Hargroves stood in the dimly lit room, the reality of Emma and Lily's kidnapping weighing heavily on them. They were interrupted by one of the embassy staff. A fussy little man who looked nervous all the time, "Sir, the bodies have been returned from the dig. They await your examination."

"Not now, Tosh!" Mr. Hargroves reproached him, "We've got a missing couple of ducklings on our hands." He turned to face him, "I need to interview the servants. Someone must know something."

Ms. Marlowe projected an optimistic air while deep down was troubled. These adventures were exciting to watch her students blossom, but this kidnapping reminded her of the real dangers in what they were doing. Did she have the right to involve them? It was troubling her usual enthusiastic outlook.

Tosh returned, with the servants, "Apparently, Khalid and Ahmed are suspiciously absent. Khalid was last seen taking refreshments to the students."

Ms. Marlowe approached one of the servants, her tone firm but calm. “We need to know everything about Khalid and Ahmed,” she said. “I need to know what happened to those girls. I am responsible for them.”

The head servant, an older man with worry etched on his face, nodded. “Ahmed and Khalid have always been secretive, but I never thought they would do something like this. They’ve been here for years, but they’re part of something... ancient.”

One of the older servants, Fatima, stepped forward. “I can take you to our elders. They are the only ones who can influence Khalid and Ahmed.”

Mr. Hargroves nodded. “Thank you, Fatima. We need their help as soon as possible.”

While Fatima prepared for the journey, Ms. Marlowe and Mr. Hargroves discussed their plan. “We’ll need to approach the elders with respect,” Ms. Marlowe said. “Their culture values honor and tradition. If we show them that we understand and respect their ways, they might be willing to help.”

Mr. Hargroves agreed, “The longer the girls are held, the more danger they’re in.”

***********

Meanwhile, Jake, Sam, and Ben had not been idle. Once they heard about Khalid and Ahmed by listening at the door. They decided to investigate the servants’ quarters, hoping to find clues about where Emma and Lily might be taken. Sam had used his home-made lock picking device to open the door.

The room was sparse, but a thorough search revealed a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards. Inside, they found ancient symbols, hidden documents, and maps marked with sacred sites.

“Shit! Look at this,” Jake said, holding up a map. “It points to an oasis deep in the desert. This must be where they’ve taken them.”

"Woah!" Ben suddenly blurted out. "This telegram...whoever sent it was letting Khalid and Ahmed know that the deed was done. Maybe the deaths of those archaeologists?" He looked over at Jake, "So it was staged."

"Bro!" Sam nodded, examining old parchment. “These writings talk about a cult dedicated to protecting the sanctity of the pyramids. I guess, faking a curse is one way to scare off desecrators.”

“Hey! I was in real agony! It wasn’t faked!”

“Your experience isn’t tied to these two men,” Sam shook his head, "You see, this is what happens when folks mess with things they should not. Innocent girls get kidnapped."

"Sweet," Ben, always one to find the humour in a situation, could not help but quip, “This has given me so many ideas for my next Indiana Jones fan fic.”

Jake glanced at Ben, surprised, "You are bullshitting us! You write fan fiction? I thought only twelve-year-old girls like my sister wrote stuff like that."

Ben scowled, backing his friend up against a wall, "Hey! Fan fiction is a community! Not just twelve-year-olds. It is a great way to get the adulation that I really do hunger for."

Sam grabbed Ben away from Jake, "Bro! Not now! We need to get the girls back."

Sam dragged the guys from the room with the map showing where the oasis was. Yet finding Ms. Marlowe proved as difficult. She seemed to have skipped the embassy without them.

*********

After their kidnapping, bound and gagged, Emma and Lily were roughly loaded onto camels, their captors' grim expressions illuminated by the flickering light of lanterns. The journey through the desert was long and arduous, the rhythmic sway of the camels and the vast expanse of sand creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The night sky, filled with countless stars, provided little comfort as they moved farther from the embassy and deeper into the unknown.

As dawn approached, the camels began to slow, and an oasis emerged on the horizon, its lush greenery a stark contrast to the surrounding desert. There was a tent set up amongst the foliage.

Kalid and Ahmed guided the camels to the small pool of water surrounded by palm trees. The camels lowered to the ground allowing the two men to dismount. They grabbed the girls from the other camel and dragged them roughly to the tent.

The tent was large and ornate. The canvas was a deep, rich red, adorned with intricate patterns of gold and black, reminiscent of ancient hieroglyphics. Heavy, woven rugs covered the sandy ground inside, muffling footsteps and providing a semblance of comfort in the otherwise austere setting. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a mix of myrrh and frankincense burning from brass braziers placed strategically around the space.

Dimly lit by lanterns, hanging from the central support poles, the girls were made to sit on two low cushions, their hands bound, under the watchful eyes of their captors, who moved silently and purposefully, their faces stern and unyielding.

Kalid removed their gags, crouching down before the girls, who huddled together frightened.

“We are the Guardians of the Pharaohs,” Kalid began, his eyes cold and unwavering. “For centuries, our order has protected the sanctity of these sacred sites, ensuring that they remain untouched by foreign hands. The curse upon the tomb of Pharaoh Akhemkare is our greatest weapon. It has kept outsiders at bay until those arrogant Englishmen defied those superstitions."

Emma and Lily exchanged glance, their minds racing to comprehend the gravity of their situation.

Kalid continued, his tone growing more fervent, “We cannot allow the curse to be presumed lifted. It is the only thing that stands between our sacred heritage and the relentless greed of outsiders. You spoke of undoing such a thing. This would attract greedy men once more. We cannot let that happen.”

Ahmed gave the two girls a water bag than nudged Kalid, "We must speak with the others to decide what to do with them." They left the tent

Emma and Lily guzzled the precious water waiting for the two men to leave before testing their bonds. Their efforts were futile.

The sun rose higher; the tent was becoming like a sauna. Hot and stifling. Sweat dripping off the girls. They decided to ration their water not wanting to die from dehydration before help arrived. They had faith in Ms. Marlowe to rescue them.

**********

Ms. Marlowe, Mr. Hargroves, and Fatima emerged from the T Model Ford. The woman approached the largest tent and spoke in hushed tones to the ladies who worked outside. After a tense moment, they were allowed inside. The elders, distinguished by their age and bearing, listened as Fatima explained their plight.

Ms. Marlowe stepped forward, speaking in their native tongue. Mr. Hargroves's left eyebrow raised in surprise, “Honorable elders, we come seeking your help. Two of our students have been taken by Khalid and Ahmed. We understand their motives, but these are innocent girls who have no part in this conflict.”

They were surprised by this woman's grasp of their language. There was definitely more to her than what was on the surface.

The eldest of the group, a man with a weathered face and piercing eyes, considered her words, “You speak with respect and understanding. But Khalid and Ahmed are deeply committed to protecting our sacred sites. It will not be easy to convince them.”

Mr. Hargroves added, “We believe, with your influence, we can persuade them to release the girls. They do not need to harm the innocent to protect their heritage.”

"We do not trust him," The elder spoke glancing over at Mr. Hargroves, "He comes to appease his government over the deaths of those two Englishmen. They will want Khalid and Ahmed's blood soaking the desert sands as retribution."

"This isn't about Mr. Hargroves," Ms. Marlowe spoke, a firm voice. "My business is not about those dead men. They made their choices." She sighed, "I am here just for my students."

The elder nodded slowly. “You must understand. This is a delicate matter. Our traditions run deep."

"Fine! You can have your traditions. You can continue your curse," Ms. Marlowe said. "Just tell us where we can find those men."

The elders muttered between themselves while Ms. Marlowe and Mr. Hargroves looked on. They had taken a crucial step towards finding Emma and Lily.

*********

As the boys set out from Cairo, the bustling city soon gave way to the endless expanse of the desert. With the map clutched tightly in Jake's hand, they navigated the arid landscape in an old army truck left over from the war. Sam had hotwired the truck, and was now shifting gears, the tires kicking up plumes of sand in their wake.

Ben was hanging out the back of the truck enjoying the landscape, holding on for dear life, his Dame Edna glasses providing relief from the glare.

The heat was oppressive, and the air shimmered with mirages that danced on the horizon. The landscape grew more desolate. The boys passed crumbling ruins of ancient structures, half-buried in the sand, remnants of a time long past. The silence of the desert was occasionally broken by the whisper of the wind.

Finally, as dusk began to fall, they spotted a cluster of palm trees in the distance, their fronds swaying gently in the gentle breeze that had sprung up. Ben could ditch his sunglasses.

“Right there! That’s it,” Jake said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “The oasis.”

They parked the truck a safe distance away and continuing on foot. The soft sounds of the oasis—a trickling stream, the rustle of leaves—were a stark contrast to the harsh landscape of the desert.

The boys moved stealthily through the shadows, their hearts pounding in their chests as they approached the back of the tent.

They could see Ahmed standing on guard outside the tent, his eyes scanning the darkness. Unbeknownst to him, Jake, Sam, and Ben crept closer, staying low to the ground.

“Keep quiet and follow me,” Jake whispered, his voice barely audible, removing a pocketknife from his backpack. The other two nodded.

Jake began to carefully cut through the heavy canvas, hoping to create an opening big enough to slip through. Just as they made a small tear, the sound of approaching footsteps made them freeze. Jake quickly slipped the pocketknife through the tear and into the tent hoping, if they were right and the girls were on the other side, that they would know what to do.

The boys tried to scatter, but Kalid grabbed Ben by the scruff of his neck and placing a sword at his throat. The two other boys stopped, looked back uncertain what to do.

Ahmed pounced on them. He knocked Sam to the ground with the butt of his sword. He turned to face Jake. The boy stopped dead glancing over at Ben who was struggling in Khalid's grip. He didn't want to risk his friend's life. Yeah! Friend! Maybe even more! He was an odd duck, but they were mates, bound even further together by these adventures.

Kalid’s face was a mask of anger. “You thought you could sneak into our camp and free your friends?” he snarled. “You will pay for your foolishness.”

Inside the tent, Emma and Lily could hear the commotion. They strained against their bonds, desperate to help. Emma’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. “We have to do something!”

Emma suddenly noticed the glint from the pocketknife at the rear of the tent. She hurried over working with difficulty to severe the rope about her wrists. When they were both free, Emma continued to cut through the back of the tent while Lily grabbed two lanterns to use as weapons. They had to improvise as usual.

The boys were stripped to their underpants and tied to posts to one side of the camp. They were near a large ant hill.

Kalid distracted him by produced a jar of honey, his eyes gleaming with malice, “Let’s see how you like this,” he said, liberally dousing the boys with the sticky substance.

The sweet scent of honey quickly attracted the ants, and the boys could already see them advancing upon them. They struggled against their bonds, but it was no use.

At that moment, Emma and Lily rushed at the two servants. They turned startled by them. The girls swung the lanterns hard at them. Emma stumbled and fell while Lily went full Rambo on them. The two men removed their swords ready to impale them. That was when the two men, noticed the approaching vehicle, and lights growing in the distance. They lowered their swords

"We must not be caught," Ahmed said,

"There is much to do before we can rest," Kalid muttered.

The boys started to feel the tiny legs crawling on their skin. The ants began to bite, and the boys grimaced in pain.

The two men slipped into the foliage of the oasis looking to circle around to the camel at the rear. Ms. Marlowe rushed into the camp, grabbing the pocketknife from Emma, to sever each boy's bonds, "You need to wash them off or they won't stop until you're nothing but bones."

The boys ran for the pool of water and jumped in without any hesitation. They began washing their skin clean of the ants, but the honey was much more difficult.

"But they got away," implored Emma. "They should pay!"

Fatima looked on somberly, "They were only observing their duties as protectors of the ancients."

Ms. Marlowe glanced at Mr. Hargrove, "I'll leave you to deal with this curse. It is high time I got my students back home. It is way past their bedtime."

Ms. Marlowe guided her students toward the army truck. She drove them back to Cairo where they would collect their belongings before calling up the portal.

She had listened to the students catching up, picking up on one matter she wanted to raise, "Samuel!" The woman hesitated, "While I commend your efforts, may I remind you that it is illegal for minors to operate motor vehicles." She smiled, "Especially when they do not have the appropriate permits." She tutted, "This will mean an additional detention for you...and your co-conspirators."

"Sweet! A boy's only field trip!"

Ms. Marlowe didn't look back at them, "Oh no! My dears! That would be a reward," She smirked, "Time travel can mess with your moral compass. That is the only thing that will connect you back to your own time. They anchor you to your world just as much as that clock in my classroom."

The boys groaned in the back while the girls snickered at them. Lily leaned forward, "Ms. Marlowe! What is going to happen about the dig?"

"Oh! I am sure Mr. Hargroves can weave a convincing story to appease everyone," The woman said, as she focused ahead of her, sighing with a mixture of fondness and regret. "But the greed of men will not stop them for long." She glanced back at her student, "And who knows, maybe the real curse will rise to smote them." She smiled, looking forward to a nice cup of tea when they got back to the classroom. "But that concern is for other adventurers to solve."

They continued heading towards Cairo and their way back home to their classroom where Ms. Marlowe's cup of tea beckoned.

Jake glanced across at Ben. His friend smiled at him. Jake’s gut somersaulted. His face started to blush. Strangely, there was no longer any urgency to get home for his date with Alex.

#TimeTravelAdventure #YAThriller #SupernaturalMystery #AncientEgypt #LGBTQCharacters #FriendshipDrama #ArchaeologyAdventure #CursesAndRituals #HighStakesRescue #HistoricalFantasy