It felt like something was crawling over my neck. Like a cold and soft breeze that held a vague shape. Scratching at the skin, I felt nothing but the sensation wouldn't go away, and it freaked me out that there might be a bug on me. So, I rushed to the bathroom to make sure there was nothing on me.

Looking in the mirror, I searched my neck and made my way up into my hair.

Because I spent my life at archaeological digs, I didn't bother with putting effort into my appearance. There was little point to it when most of the places were hot and dusty. Makeup was pointless and would often slide off other women when they wore it, so I didn't bother. My hair was kept to an easily maintained length that sat at my shoulders. It could be tied up but was looked reasonable if I wanted to let it hang freely.

I didn't bother with colouring it either. A lot of people did, and after a few weeks, the tell-tale sign would appear. I kept to my blonde and ensured that life was simple.

When I found nothing in my hair, I sighed. Then I thought that the bug might have ventured into my shirt. Rushing into a cubicle, I pulled it off and turned it inside out. There was nothing, so I put it back on and returned the washbasin.

Turning on the water, I cupped my hand and let the cold liquid pool. When there was enough, I hunched over and splashed the water on my face. All the while, I prayed that it was not a symptom of whatever was wrong with Eddie.

I didn't feel lethargic, I had a spring in my step, and I didn't feel like the walls needed to hold me up. As I lifted upright, I turned the water off. With a heavy sigh, I reached for the paper towel and blotted the water from my face.

When I looked in the mirror, I yelped in shock, spinning around to look at the man behind me. There was nothing.

My hand was shaking as I reached for the basin, praying that my legs did not collapse.

It was no ordinary man. It looked like the body that was in the sarcophagus.

"I must be going mad," I whispered.

Was that what this was? What other explanation was there? I was the only one that saw a body rather than a skeleton, and now I was seeing things that were clearly not there.

I needed fresh air.

Rushing out of the restroom, I made my way to the doors, pretending that everything was okay. I was perfectly fine and not about to have a mental breakdown.

Pushing through the doors, I felt the cool of the afternoon hit me. The soft wind was refreshing on my flustered face. I took it all in, enjoying the moment of sanity.

Because I really was insane if I thought that I'd seen the living body of the man that was not in the sarcophagus.

"It is not real," I whispered to myself.

The door clunked behind me, alerting the guards to my presence. One of them gave me a stiff nod and turned back to his newspaper. The little hut was enough to keep him dry and free of sunburn, but that's it. Like the rest of us, he was used to life in the outdoors, and it didn't bother him.

In the small area set aside for the smokers, I sat on a bench and stretched back to look at the sky. It was still blue, still a perfect day.

When I felt better, I sat up and took a deep breath in. I was not insane. I did not see the body in the sarcophagus nor in the mirror. I was not ill, and I will not become sick. It was just a minor episode, probably brought on by working too much.

Lifting from the bench seat, I walked back into the building and returned to my desk, hoping that everything would be okay. That the words that I'd said to myself outside would remain firm in my mind and I wouldn't falter. It was a long shot considering that I didn't believe the words, but I would do my best to persevere.

I was in the middle of ordering the food for another week when I heard Nelson barking something from the depths of the tomb. It was only a short walk from my office to the tomb but he was so loud, it sounded like he was right behind me. Seconds later, the man appeared at my door.

"Miss Harrington, have you seen Dana anywhere?"

"No, I guess she's in her office though."

It's usually where she was considering that she was the site nurse and if someone was sick, she needed to be ready for them.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a few of the kids are feeling a little tired and woozy. Must be the heat."

"Claustrophobia often gets people too."

"Ah, yes. I'd forgotten that one. Perhaps sitting outside for a while might help them. Good thinking."

He toddled off back to the entrance and then called out for Hannah to get them out into the afternoon sun.

Hearing a whole heap of groans that sounded like zombies had entered the building, I got up from my desk and watched as the students made their way out of the tomb. They walked like zombies too, sluggish in their movements, pale and almost lifeless. One leaned on a wall and almost fell asleep, Hannah soon moved him on.

"Maybe you might need to call Dana."

Hannah looked at me, giving a grim smile as she nodded. As for Nelson, he was already back in the tomb trying to decipher the markings.

Dana scuttled across the open area as I sat back at my desk. She had her bag of tricks strapped to her body, concern on her face. The woman was a worrier; I'd learned that much over the years. She was good at her job, but she fussed over everything.

When I was almost done with ordering, I saw the professor bringing a large box out of the tomb entrance. Knowing that I needed his credit card for payment, I got up and followed him to his office.

"Professor."

"Busy." He called out.

Yeah, that's great, but if I don't order today, the food won't come tomorrow.

"I need your credit card for the grocery order."

"Oh yes."

He flicked his hand, ordering me into his office.

"Look at this, Miss Harrington."

In the box was a little box made from the same black marble as the sarcophagus. Nelson looked at it adoringly, a smile on his face that I'd never seen before.

"It is exquisite. So beautiful and perfect."

It was a plain box, and I'd seen prettier in the junk shop. The professor opened his safe and stowed the box in it rather than with the rest of the things he'd found in the tomb. He thought it was precious enough to store in the safe, but then he merely flicked the door to shut it. The latch didn't connect, and I was about to say something when he distracted me with photos.

"Look! These carvings are amazing, aren't they? The sculptor must have worked on this for a really long time. Smooth lines, not a hint of a flaw to be found. Even the stone is something of quality. This really will make quite an exhibit in a museum. Don't you agree?"

"Absolutely. It is a beautiful piece, perhaps too beautiful to leave in the ground. Doesn't it make you wonder why they didn't create a mausoleum if they went to such efforts with the sarcophagus?"

"Perhaps a structure existed when this chap passed away, and this is what is left. Maybe if I am sent the equipment that I asked for, I can do testing and check the surrounding areas. Honestly, how do they expect me to work in these conditions?"

I had no idea, but it made sense if they wanted to ensure the preservation of everything found in this place.

"Professor?" Dana called out.

He sighed and put the photographs down. When he moved around me and the desk, I turned.

"The credit card?"

"Yes, yes. In the drawer. Put it back when you're done."

I rolled my eyes and walked around his desk. Telling me which drawer it was in would have been great, getting it for me would have been even better.

I sat down at this desk, opening each of the drawers and searching for his card. When I moved the chair back to check the drawers on the other side, I knocked open the safe door. The credit card was sitting under the marble box. I shook my head, not surprised at all.

Lifting the box, I collected the credit card and put it on the desk. The stone was cold against the palm of my hand, and it was not that interesting.

It almost looked like it had been put into the room as a joke because I swear, I'd seen ones like this at the markets. The box was small, rectangle in shape, narrow lid and deep container. I wondered what was inside it, if anything at all.

The more I looked at it, the more intrigued I became. Turning it over to the underside, I saw the only mark in an otherwise perfect stone. It was a tiny hole in the centre. Running my finger over the hole, I felt the edges scrape against the pad of my finger.

"Curious," I whispered.

It made me wonder if Nelson had seen the hole. He didn't say anything about it, so I was inclined to think that he hadn't.

Opening the top drawer in his desk, I found a little pen light and shone it into the hole. I could see some kind of markings in the shaft.

"Maybe it's a keyhole."

Switching off the light, I returned it to the drawer and put the box back in the safe. I'd ask the professor later when mentioning that he left his card in the safe. Then again, maybe I won't. I didn't want him to think that I was snooping. He was always worried about tomb thieves, and I didn't want my personnel file marked in a way that reflected that I might be one. If that happened, I might never work on a dig site again.