Simon Beck's working theory was that Alexandria's pre-existing underground dwellings led to a central point—a doorway that led to the old world beneath the sand. He'd told Henri a potential entrance to the tunnels depicted on the map he'd found would be underwater near the coastline. The city had been drowned many times throughout its history; many things were lost to the Mediterranean Sea. The tunnels might've been one of the many.

The old Alexandria had been a city connected by underground canals that supplied the people with water. Many of those canals had been lost to time, but if there was any hope of finding the entrance to the Library of Alexandria, then that was where they'd have to start.

That's exactly what Henri told Monet Delacroix.

She expressed to him a similar theory her research team developed, but instead her people spent most of their time and resources searching underground in the heart of the city instead of near the water. They never got close, only discovering hidden reservoirs of water and old structures caked in cobwebs and dirt.

Once Henri revealed what he knew to Monet, she immediately put her people to work. He overheard her giving them their orders, which included referencing their database of blueprints, collected maps (including his), and images taken during their extensive satellite imaging tours. They were even commanded to call upon data compiled from when they mapped out much of Alexandria's underground via ground-penetrating radar.

Monet speculated they'd have their breakthrough by the morning. This entire time, they had almost everything they needed to find the Mouseion and the Library of Alexandria. They were just missing one thing. And Henri might've just given it to them.

He wrung his hands as he, Thea, and Malik left to their own devices in the tent while Monet disappeared to give out more orders.

"You better hope your little plan works," Thea told him.

"It will," Malik said. "Right, Henri?"

"It'll work, trust me."

He nodded confidently, but inside he was praying to every god that might've existed. They needed all the luck they could get.

###

Once their contribution to the search was deemed adequate, Monet had the Becks—and Malik—moved into two connecting tents in the eastern wing of the research camp. Unlike the holding cell they'd been forced into earlier, their new dwellings sported thick, insulated tarps designed to fight off the desert cold, soft carpets, a few inflatable mattresses, and electric lanterns illuminating the airy space.

It reminded him of the glamping trip he and his family went on in Dubai.

Except they hadn't been prisoners then. They were now. If everything went to plan tomorrow, they wouldn't be held captive for much longer. This nightmare would soon be over. He'd finally get to go back to his life.

As he sat on the ground next to his bed, he thought back to where he'd been before Arkangel Industries turned his life upside down. He'd just graduated from Westminster School with top marks, but he never had a plan for what to do next. Being a member of the Beck family meant he didn't have to work if he didn't want to; but it also created a space for complacency to grow like algae in a still pond.

All his friends, the few he had anyway, remained in the United Kingdom to start their lives—whether that was going to university, entering their careers, or whatever else. Henri remembered standing in his empty dorm room, alone and numb as he stared at the walls, stripped of the posters and decorations that'd been decorating them for the past year. Movers had helped him pack his stuff up. His parents were too busy setting up their museum showcase at the Smithsonian to help. His sister was off in New York doing her own thing. He didn't even have a boyfriend to help him carry the heavy boxes down the stairs.

After graduating, Henri was lost. Now that he was thinking about, what life was he rushing to get back to?

With his home having been burnt to cinders, he truly didn't have much waiting for him. While he might've not enjoyed being shot at and chased by murderous mercenaries, this past week had been the most invigorating time of his life. He'd been doing something that mattered—uncovering a piece of history and saving his parents. And after learning about the majus and his parents' unwavering sense of duty to them, he realized this was bigger than he could've imagined.

Perhaps he shouldn't have been looking to get back home.

Like the Library of Alexandria, Henri was lost. But maybe he was to find his purpose in the sandy dunes of Egypt in search of the Mouseion...

A sigh left his lips.

"Everything alright?" Malik asked from the edge of his inflatable bed.

Henri nodded. "Yeah. Just...got a lot on my mind."

"I can imagine. Today was messed up."

"Messed up is an understatement."

Too much had happened, too much new information had been presented. He could feel his brain struggling to keep up. If he didn't get some sleep soon, he feared his head would burst like a balloon. If they were going to potentially discover the Library of Alexandria in the morning, he would need his rest.

As he climbed on top of his inflatable mattress, he cautiously watched Malik do the same. He gnawed on his bottom lip as he felt a question brewing in the back of his throat.

"Hey, Malik."

"Yeah?"

Henri paused.

Malik lifted a brow at him.

"Do you..." He cleared the shakiness from his throat. "Do you ever feel lost? Like you don't know what you're supposed to be doing?"

"You're seriously asking me that?" Malik laughed. He moved from his side of the tent and joined Henri in front of his bed. "I've been lost ever since I blew my shot at making the NBA. Hell, even before that. I've been lost since my Pops died."

Henri silently chastised himself for forgetting. Malik might've been the only person who was more lost than him.

"Since I was a kid, I thought I was going to make it big, man," Malik said. "Me and Pops, we'd wake up at four in the morning to put up shots in the gym before school. We...we had this whole plan. I was gonna play Division One basketball, catch all the scouts' eyes, and get drafted in the first round. Was gonna take Pops with me to whatever team I ended up on. And it almost happened. Then he died. He was the nicest man in the world and he got gunned down in the street like a dog. For a long time, I was just...I was so angry. And I let that anger take everything from me."

A deep, harrowing look of regret carved itself into the boy's stony face. His eyes were glossy with tears yet to fall. Henri instinctively placed his hand atop his.

"It didn't take everything. You still have your family. Your Grams, your siblings. You've even got my family now."

You've got me.

Malik smiled. "Yeah, you're right." He glanced down at their now intertwined hands. "We won't be lost forever, you know. Before I met you, I thought my life wasn't going anywhere. It still might not go anywhere, but at least I can say I've done something now, you know? I mean, we just discovered magic is real and we're searching for lost ruins in Egypt. I wasn't even sure I'd ever leave the United States."

"This is regular for my family, believe it or not. Well, except for the whole magic stuff. That's new for me too."

"Oh, I believe it. I've known your parents for an hour and they're already some of the coolest people I've ever met."

Henri smiled. Hearing his parents receive plaudits wasn't unusual for him. But usually, people heralded their amazing accomplishments instead of them as people. Malik couldn't have cared less about what they'd done in the past or how much money they made. He saw them for what they'd done as people and what they were doing for others.

"They're pretty great," he said. "Stick with us and you'll experience a lot more than Egyptian deserts."

"I'd love that." Malik paused before rubbing the back of his neck. "I wouldn't mind getting back home alive first, though."

Right.

Malik was never meant to get wrapped up in any of this. This wasn't his world—it was barely Henri's. The boy had volunteered to help the Becks out the kindness of his heart. It was only right they got him back to his family in one piece after all this was done. Henri couldn't guarantee his safety, though. Especially not with the plan he had cooking in the back of his brain.

The current mission was to prevent Arkangel Industries from finding what they were looking for within the ancient Egyptian Mouseion.

All their lives would be at stake if things went awry.

Henri banished the thought from his psyche.

He couldn't afford to think like that right now. Right now, it was time for them to get some sleep. Tomorrow was a big day. He climbed onto his bed and Malik did the same.

###

Henri awoke earlier than everyone the next morning. Careful not to rouse anyone else from their slumber, he tiptoed to the entrance of his part of the tent and peeked outside. Brisk, morning tickled his nose as it protruded through the folds of the tent. The research outpost buzzed with life. Mercenaries and Arkangel workers milled about the camp, carrying out tasks and conversing with each other. Had it not been for the sun's position in the sky, Henri wouldn't have been able to tell it was early in the morning.

Off to the side, he spotted workers loading up armored trucks and large vans with equipment. He squinted at them, desperately trying to get a good look at the machinery they were moving. Footsteps approached from nearby, the owners just out of his eyeline. Sucking in a breath, he disappeared back into the tent.

Once safe inside, he exhaled and turned around.

He found his father standing in the makeshift doorway separating the two crescent-shaped rooms. The man was missing his glasses, and his button-up shirt had been split open, revealing his dirtied undershirt. Bags hung beneath his eyes and a bit of stubble dotted his jaw.

Simon Beck had surely seen better days.

"What're you doing up?" he interrogated.

Henri instinctively straightened his posture. "Couldn't sleep." He gestured towards outside with his head. "All the noise, you know?"

Simon grunted in agreement. "What happened with Monet yesterday? I assume you told her everything."

"I did. She agreed to bring us with her when they go looking for the tunnels."

"I had my doubts, but you managed to get it done. Good job."

Henri bit the inside of his cheek. Was it possible for the man to give a compliment without being condescending?

"Dad, I know the last thing you wanted to do was help her but—"

"You're playing with fire here, son. I know I agreed to help you with your plan, but I need you to understand something. There are hundreds of thousands of lives at stake. If we don't stop Monet from stealing that eldricite, the lives that will be lost will be on our hands. On your hands."

That certainly wasn't what he wanted to hear this morning.

Henri balled his hands into fists. "What's it going to take for you to believe in me for once?"

"What?"

"I mean, seriously? Let me know." He threw his hands up. "I survived multiple attempts on my life, made it all the way to Egypt, discovered the key to finding the goddamn Library of Alexandria, and came up with a plan to get us back home in one piece. What more do you want from me?"

Simon's face contorted in confusion. "I didn't...I never wanted you to come here."

"Who else was going to save you?!"

A muscle ticked in the man's jaw. "Henri—"

"How hard is it to just say thank you?" Henri scoffed. "I'm tired of trying to impress you. I got perfect scores in all my courses at Westminster and you couldn't even be bothered to come to my graduation. Did you know I was the president of the history club? Of course you didn't! Because we barely know each other anymore, Dad. I thought you would've been proud of me after all this time, but nothing I do is ever enough." The words spewed from his mouth like lava from an erupting volcano. Years of pent-up feelings were rising to the surface.

"Henri, listen to me." Simon placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I didn't want you or your sister to come here because I didn't want you two to get hurt. This...this was never your fight. I never wanted it to be either." His eyes fell to the floor. "I know I probably haven't been the best father to you and Thea. When you were born...that was one of the scariest days of my life. We'd already had Thea, but you...you were my first son. My only son. I wanted you to grow up better than I did, to be better than I was. I was...I was afraid of failing you the way my father failed me."

Henri stood before his old man with wide eyes. His grandfather—Thaddeus Beck—rarely got a mention in their household. In fact, he barely knew anything about the man. Now he knew why.

"I'm hard on you because I see what's inside you. Do you know why your mother and I started the Beck Foundation?"

"Are you kidding me right now? Why are we talking about your stupid foundation?"

"Our foundation. It's for you, son. It's always been for you." Simon pressed his finger to Henri's chest. "I've always seen the potential in you, son. When you're ready, I want to pass the reigns to you. That's always been the plan."

Henri blinked. What?

"I've made a lot of mistakes," his father continued. "There's...there's a lot I need to work on. Since the day you were brought into this world, I've been afraid. Afraid of losing you. Afraid of hurting you. Afraid of failing you."

"You could never fail me, Dad," he said, his voice an octave above a whisper. "All I've ever wanted to do was impress you. To make myself worthy of the Beck name—"

"The name is a trap. It's always been a trap. I know that now. And it's time you know it too." Simon squeezed his son's shoulders. "As much as I might not like it all the time, you've always been good at being you. Just...keep doing that, okay?"

Tears sprung in Henri's eyes. He wiped them away before nodding quickly.

He couldn't remember the last time they had a talk like this. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure if they ever had. But it was needed. Years of misunderstandings could've destroyed their relationship; he theorized something similar happened between his father and grandfather. History wouldn't repeat itself, though. Not this time.

"We're going to stop her," he reassured. "I promise."

Simon nodded. "I know we will."

Offering a smile, Henri extended his hand toward him. Simon reached to grab it, but instead of shaking his hand, he pulled the boy in for a hug. Henri stiffened for a moment; a hug from the man was rarer than a total eclipse. But he wouldn't let this moment slip through his fingers. Squeezing his eyes shut, he wrapped his arms tightly around him.

Once they pulled away from each other, he spotted his sister and mother standing side-by-side beneath the doorway connecting the two tents with massive grins on their faces.

"I thought I'd never see you two hug each other," Aminata joked.

"Hopefully this means I'll never have to hear them argue again," Thea said with a laugh.

Henri and Simon exchanged an identical deadpan look.

Behind them, an obnoxious yawn tore through the air. They all turned to watch Malik climb out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled over to the Beck family. He yawned again before lifting his brows at the four of them.

"What'd I miss?"

The Becks simply laughed.

Their moment didn't last long. Mere moments later, a pair of mercenaries stepped into the tent with stern expressions on their faces. Henri tensed at the sight of them.

"Ms. Delacroix has requested your presence," one of them announced.

"For what?" Aminata inquired. Meanwhile, Simon's eyes widened as he stood beside her.

Henri's stomach dropped. He didn't even need the mercenaries to answer the question. He already knew.

Monet Delacroix had found the lost library of Alexandria.