Alexandria was crawling with tourists. While the Egyptian police were able to section off the Citadel of Qaitbay for a few hours to assist Arkangel Industries in their search of the bay, the same couldn't be done for the vastly popular Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa.

So, Monet Delacroix opted to begin their descent into the necropolis once the attraction was closed to the public. She had her workers set up another temporary research facility just outside of the catacombs. The mercenaries employed by her company stood watch, making sure none of the civilians got a good look at what they were doing.

Henri and his companions were stuffed deep inside, away from any nosy onlookers. They might not have been bound and gagged, but they still were Monet's captives. Since arriving at the catacombs from the Citadel of Qaitbay, they'd been forced to sit in silence. Every now and then Henri would try and whisper to his parents or Malik, but the guards tasked with watching over them made sure to keep them quiet.

He—they—needed a plan.

Arkangel was close to discovering the tunnels. Those tunnels would lead them to the Mouseion, and then to the Library of Alexandria. And once they found it, Henri feared there wasn't anything he, or anyone else, could do to stop them.

The majus weren't the only ones at risk if Monet succeeded. The woman was insane—her lofty plans for the human race would spell disaster for them all. And the worst thing about it all was that she believed herself to be in the right.

Henri wished he could reason with her. Perhaps they still could...

He glanced in her direction. She was frantically waving her hands at her workers as she barked commands in French at them.

On second thought...

Malik nudged him out of his own head. "What's going on in there?"

"Trying to figure out how we can get to those tunnels before Monet does," he whispered.

"Well? Any ideas?"

He discreetly shook his head, careful not to tip off the guards standing just a few yards away.

"Maybe we could fight them?"

Nearby, Thea snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."

"Quiet!" one of the mercenaries shouted.

The girl pulled an imaginary zipper over her lips before rolling her eyes.

Fighting wasn't an option. While not everyone in Monet's camp was armed to the teeth, there were at least a dozen mercenaries wielding automatic rifles. Henri didn't even have as much as a pocketknife on him. No, they'd need to come up with something else.

He gazed at his sister and then at his parents. His eyes eventually settled upon Malik, whose head wouldn't stop moving as he scanned the makeshift campsite Arkangel had set up near the entrance to the catacombs.

Their small group was comprised of two of the world's smartest and most resourceful explorers, his erratic—yet talented—sister, and Malik, one of the bravest people Henri had ever met. Coupled with his superior intellect, surely, they could've come up with something.

He looked up at the dimming sky. The sun was an orange medallion sinking beneath the shimmering horizon. Soon, it would be gone. Night would be upon them. Then it would be time to join the dead beneath the earth.

They were running out of time.

He wrung his hands as he exhausted his brain for ideas. Eventually, he found himself watching the visitors of the catacombs pour out of the stone staircase spiraling out of the ground. His eyes widened. The staircase seemed to be about as wide as two people. Catacombs weren't known for having much space for the living either.

How much of Monet's camp would be able to join her downstairs?

A plan began to form, expanding and unraveling like the universe at its conception. But to get it across to his family, he needed these mercenaries to vacate the area for at least a minute. He needed a distraction.

His eyes flickered to Thea. He grinned.

She quirked a brow at him. "What're you looking at me like that for?"

He lowered his voice. "I need you to do me a favor."

"A favor? What could you possibly need a favor for—"

"Look, I have a plan on what we can do to stop Arkangel once they go into the catacombs." He avoided eye contact with one of the mercenaries as they walked past him. Once they were out of earshot, he resumed. "But if we're all going to be on the same page, I need these goons gone for a bit."

Thea frowned. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"What you do best: piss them off."

"What're you trying to say? Henri, I'm a delightful person."

"Yeah, okay. Even you don't believe that."

She turned to their parents. "Can you believe him?"

Aminata gave Henri a disapproving shake of the head while Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. Meanwhile, Malik chuckled at them all.

"Quiet over there!" their guard commanded. They were sitting on the remnants of a brick wall with a lighter and a carton of cigarettes in hand.

"Or what?" Thea shouted back. "You're not gonna do shit!"

The mercenary jumped up from their perch, their lit cigarette falling from their fingers, forgotten, and left to waste on the dry grass below. Jaw clenched, they stomped up to Thea with their hand on the handgun concealed in the holster on their hip.

"Don't test me, little girl."

"Little girl? I'm twenty-one years old, you idiot."

"You look little to me."

Thea glanced at their waist before smirking. "Same could be said about you."

The mercenary's face went red with anger, and probably embarrassment too.

Henri fought hard to stifle his laughter. Having been on the other end of a Thea reading far too many times, he knew good and well how deep her simplest insults could cut. He had to admit it was entertaining being on the other side of it.

"Seems like I struck a nerve." Thea looked past the guard and her eyes bulged as if she'd been punched in the gut. "And it seems like you're trying to burn us all to a crisp!" She pointed at the patch of dead grass currently burning behind them. A small fire danced about the ground like a mischievous sprite.

"Oh, shit!" The mercenary sped off toward a tent.

"Don't move!" their partner shouted before running after them.

Henri shared a look with his sister, who sported an awestricken look on her pale face.

"Well," she swallowed hard, "you said create a distraction."

"I didn't say set the camp on fire!"

"I didn't!"

"You're both wasting time," Simon said. He readjusted his glasses on his nose. "Henri, what was your plan?"

Nodding, he cast one look at the guards racing for the nearest fire extinguisher. He would only have a few moments to explain before they returned.

It would have to be enough.

###

The sky had darkened, expelling any remnants of the sun that scorched most of the earth in this part of the world. The Nitrian desert was to the west, a physical separation between Alexandria and Cairo. Henri couldn't see the stars above him; the city at his back was too bright. Illuminated skyrises and streetlamps did well to provide them with light during the night, but they did little for those who wished to enjoy the pleasures of stargazing.

There would be no time to look upon the stars, though.

Where Henri was going, the stars couldn't see him. Nor could he see them.

An invisible lump lodged itself at the base of his esophagus as he stared at the entrance of the Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa. It had been closed to the public for an hour now. After the brief cigarette fire fiasco caused by one of Monet's mercenaries, most of those visiting the catacombs evacuated. Now, there wasn't anyone else around except for Henri, Malik, his family, and those a part of Monet's research team.

For the last hour, they had been preparing to delve into the earth in search of the tunnels. Monet had her scientists study published maps of the Egyptian necropolis to determine the most likely area for a hidden chamber to be. While much of the catacombs had already been discovered, Henri figured it was probable for certain sections to have escaped rigorous searching. Underground structures, especially ones this old, didn't tend to fare well when messed with.

Monet didn't seem to share his worries, though. She urged her workers to prepare more drones for their search. These were built to resemble tiny scarabs, capable of fitting into the crevices they were bound to come across within the underground corridors. Henri's skin crawled every time he heard their mechanical legs and bodies moving. Had he not known they were machines, he would've mistaken them for actual bugs.

And he hated bugs.

"We're all ready to go down, madame," a worker announced. They then furrowed their brow at the haphazardly assembled workstation and other scientists standing around them. "Er, are we all going to fit down there, though? The catacombs aren't very large..."

Monet stiffened.

Henri smiled. Clearly, she hadn't thought of that. But he had. His entire plan to thwart her revolved around the lack of space within the catacombs. If she made the decision he expected her to make, it would only make things easier for him and his family. If she didn't... Well, he would need another plan.

And he didn't have another plan.

"We take what we need," Monet eventually said. She pointed at two of her workers before beckoning them forward. She then motioned for Sergei to join her. "The rest of you, stay here. Monitor the scarabs. Make sure no one else comes down. Understood?"

"Yes, madame!" they said back.

Henri wondered if the woman's workers had been completely brainwashed or if their paychecks were the reason for their unwavering loyalty.

"And them?" Sergei glanced at the Becks with disdain in his beady eyes.

Monet considered them all carefully.

"My parents know these catacombs," Henri quickly said. "Right, Mom and Dad?"

His mother nodded. "That's right. We searched these during our expedition through Egypt."

"But you didn't find the tunnels."

"We didn't know we were looking for any."

Henri resisted the urge to grin. While his father might've been a walking encyclopedia, his mother was no slouch herself. The woman was a quick thinker and a slick talker. Her wit got them all out of many jams. He was depending on it now.

"Touché." Monet squinted at her. "But what you know can't help me. You said it yourself, that pact you made with the majus prevents you from helping me."

Aminata cursed under her breath.

Henri stepped forward. "Then we continue to do what we've been doing."

"Which is?" Monet raised her eyebrow.

"You let me, Thea, and Malik come down with you. We'll relay whatever my parents know about the catacombs to you."

She pondered this for a moment before turning to Sergei. "What do you think?"

The hulking man glowered at the Becks. "I don't trust them."

"Neither do I. But we could use their assistance. The catacombs..." She threw a wary glance toward the entrance. "Being underground has never been my favorite. The scarabs can only help us so much."

Sergei rolled his shoulders back. He grunted before giving the woman at his side a curt nod.

That settled that.

"Alright," Monet said. "You'll come with us." She plucked a trio of mercenaries, bringing their party to eleven members. Six on Arkangel Industries' side and five on Henri's. While he still didn't fancy their odds, they were much better than they would've been had they stayed above ground.

He just hoped what lay below wasn't the nightmare he was anticipating.

Monet performed the sign of the cross over her chest before making her way to the steps. She pulled a heavy, silver chain from beneath her shirt and pressed it to her lips. She then faced the rest of the group with dread in her eyes. "Let us begin."