The two boys sprinted through the bundle of shadows pouring from the walls guiding them forward. It was as if the darkness itself was pulling them in, aiding in their navigation of the hidden tunnels running beneath the historic Egyptian port city. Much to Henri's delight, that doorway at the edge of the catacombs hadn't dropped them into a bottomless pit. Thea had been right—it led to something.

He just wasn't sure what yet.

With a livid Monet hot on his heels, he didn't dare stop moving. Her shouts rang out behind him like gunfire, her angry voice stabbing through the shadows like a hot knife. He kept his grip tight on his flashlight while his other hand was being gripped by Malik's. They sprinted through the narrow corridor, their heavy breaths intertwined like their fingers. Jagged openings appeared in the dark now and then, but Henri stayed in the tunnel they originally entered. They might've been paths to safety. They could've also been roads to certain death. Instead of blindly choosing one, he opted to follow the soft turns and bends of his current course, determined to reach the end of this trail.

The Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa were in the southwestern portion of Alexandria. Now he didn't have a compass on him, but if he had to bet on which direction they were moving, it would've been north. North was the beach. As his breath hitched in his chest, he recalled a speculative map of ancient Alexandria. The Mouseion and the Library of Alexandria were said to have been built somewhere near the shore.

If they were truly headed north...

He shook his head and ordered himself to focus on the task at hand: getting away from Monet. All the running he'd done over the past few days was starting to catch up with him, though. His feet and legs ached, the muscles trembling with every heavy step he took. Sweat dripped down his face and seeped into his clothes.

"How long is this goddamned tunnel?" His ragged pants filled the air.

"Just keep moving," Malik urged.

He didn't sound phased by the journey at all. While Henri struggled to catch his breath, the boy continuously checked his shoulder for any sign of the psychotic CEO of Arkangel Industries chasing them. She disappeared behind, likely getting lost in the spiderweb of corridors.

Henri wasn't even sure if they were heading in the right direction. He'd been operating off the tingling sensation behind his navel and his innate sense of direction; only time would tell if that was the right decision.

"Get back here!" Monet's distant voice boomed behind them.

She'd fallen behind. Henri forced himself to move faster to match Malik's speed.

The deeper they went into the tunnel, the farther Monet's voice got, the more he thought about the fate of his family. His plan—albeit hadn't unfolded how he intended—worked. They managed to distract their captors just enough to flee. He just hoped none of them had been caught yet. While the catacombs were expansive, there were only so many places they could hide. The good news was Monet was currently chasing Henri and Malik, not the others; her order to have them all killed once recaptured likely hadn't been relayed yet.

The bad news? Henri was starting to think he had made a mistake.

After a while, his steps faltered, a consequence of his fatigue and apprehension.

"Why'd you stop?" Malik furrowed his brow at him. "C'mon, man, we gotta keep—"

"Just...hold on for a second," Henri wheezed. He clasped his hands behind his head and gulped down the stale air. Once his head stopped spinning, he nodded to himself. He then looked at Malik. "I think we're lost."

"Lost? Of course we're lost, Henri."

"No, I mean...I mean I'm not sure we're headed the right way."

"How do you know that?"

He didn't. But they'd been going straight for about ten minutes now. Surely they would've seen some sign they were on the right track. He glanced at the walls. They were nondescript; brown and caked in dust, spiderwebs, and—

His eyes widened as his flashlight hit a crystal protruding out of the wall, the light causing the rock to glow for a split-second. It was the same material he'd seen on the walls back in the catacombs. Those same crystals marked the gateway to the tunnels. Surely their presence here meant something good remained at the end of this corridor.

"Scratch what I said. We're going the right way."

Malik shook his head before redoing his locs into a ponytail atop his head. Henri shined his light on the boy for a moment. He wasn't sure how it was possible for him to still be attractive with sweat stains marring his t-shirt and dirt gathering on his skin, but somehow, he pulled it off.

"What?" He lifted a brow at Henri. "I got a spider on my face or something?"

Henri cleared his throat before pointing his flashlight in the other direction. "Er, let's keep moving."

And keep moving they did.

###

It wouldn't be another thirty minutes until Henri and Malik stumbled into a wide, cavernous room with sand trickling down from the lofted ceiling as if they were trapped in the bottom half of an hourglass. Twisting pillars riddled with cracks and blemishes stretched up from the ground around the edge of the room like the limbs of withered corpses.

In the center of the space was a huge, single statue of an old god with curly hair topped by a crown and an even curlier beard. He sat in a massive, marble chair with a three-headed dog—which was slightly taller than Malik—at his feet. He held a broken scepter in one hand and an ankh in the other. A bronze necklace equipped with a sun medallion hung from his neck. Egyptian, Greek, and other symbols were inscribed into the stone base the statue was built upon.

Henri's eyes widened as he examined it. Unlike the rest of the room, it was in pristine condition. The quartz it had been chiseled out of was blinding white, almost like it had just been made or if someone had been cleaning it. There weren't any cracks, no chipped paint, nothing. The only thing that told Henri it had been done here was the piles of sand around its base.

It didn't make any sense.

"Where the hell are we?" Malik asked. "And what the hell is that thing?"

"I think..." Henri swallowed hard. His heart thumped in his chest. A million different thoughts and questions swirled in the whirlwind that was his mind. "I think that's Serapis."

"Sarah who?"

"No, not Sarah. Serapis." Henri squinted at the statue. "And that's Cerberus at its feet."

Malik gave him a blank look.

"Mate, did you pay attention at all during history class?"

"Not really, no. I didn't really pay attention in any class. I kind of thought I was going pro, so I never even tried."

Well, that explains a lot.

Shaking his head, Henri approached the statue to study it further. It was the only thing in the room, and there wasn't a way out besides the way they came. Assuming Monet was still following them, they needed to find an alternative exit. This statue of Serapis wasn't here by coincidence. It was here for a reason. He just needed to figure out why.

As he circled the statue with his hand rubbing his chin, Malik crouched in front of the three-headed-dog sculpture.

"Do you think this thing really existed?" he asked. He scratched under the middle-head's neck before chuckling to himself. "I mean, a three-headed dog is crazy."

"With everything we know and don't know about the world, I wouldn't rule it out."

Henri continued analyzing Serapis and his throne. He did his best to decipher the message engraved into the quartz foundation, but not all the symbols were readable. Not for him, at least. His parents might've been able to read them, though. Or even Thea, as they looked eerily similar to the ones she decoded in the catacombs.

They weren't here, though. No one else could solve this except for him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to recall all his knowledge of the Greek alphabet and Egyptian hieroglyphics. Armed with a limited knowledge of the ancient languages, he scanned the symbols and attempted to piece together the message.

"You think this thing is magic?" Malik asked. The suddenness of his question made Henri jump. He'd been so deep in concentration that he'd forgotten the boy was in the room with him.

"Maybe?" Henri rubbed his face in exasperation. Magic would explain why the statue didn't seem to be affected by the conditions of the cavern. But it didn't help him with deciphering the message. "Can you, I dunno, quiet down for a minute? I'm trying to focus here."

"Oh. Right Sorry."

Malik went quiet again. Henri thanked him before returning to his task.

It didn't take long for him to return with another random question.

"What do you think this place is?"

Henri pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing at him. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"You're just trying to figure out what those letters spell out," Malik argued. "But what really is this room? What's it doing here? Are we the first ones to even find it?" Rubbing his chin, he examined the statue of Serapis for himself. "I think this thing is guarding something."

"Guarding what?"

"You're supposed to be the genius. Why don't you tell me?"

Henri rolled his eyes.

"I mean, look at it, though. It's just sitting here, in the middle of this big ass room, staring at us. You think someone just put it here to make a statement? No, it's sitting here like a center sits in the paint waiting for a shot to fly toward the rim."

He lifted a brow at him. "Is that some sports analogy I just don't get?"

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

Malik had made a fantastic point, though. While the message inscribed into Serapis' marble foundation had yet to be decoded, the purpose of the statue was obvious. It was guarding something. It was guarding the way to the Mouseion, to the Library of Alexandria. But how? Where was the entrance? How were they meant to find it?

Think, Henri, think.

Serapis was unlike other gods. He wasn't Egyptian, nor was he Greek. He was somewhere in between, an amalgamation of deities from various cultures and pantheons. Henri once learned he was once the god of the underworld, akin to Osiris and Hades. A quick glance at their surroundings provided him with a sharp pang of irony. When Serapis was reintroduced to the Egyptians, he became known as the god of the sun and the protector of Alexandria.

The sun...

It wouldn't be morning for hours, though. If sunlight was the key to uncovering whatever Serapis was guarding, then they were out of luck. Henri squinted at the statue. No, that couldn't be it. The journal he found stated the cult of Serapis often used the underground tunnels to navigate the Mouseion and the city in secrecy. Secrets often moved in the dark, in the night.

They didn't need sunlight.

His eyes fixated upon Serapis' necklace.

"I have an idea." He carefully approached the god. "You mind helping me up there?"

"You do that a lot, you know."

"Do what?"

"Your brain moves too fast for everyone else, and you just leave everyone else behind. You gotta work on that."

Henri attempted to ignore him, but he couldn't help but sense the truth in the statement. He didn't do it on purpose. Or did he...? Shaking his head, he stopped at the base of the statue, his face inches away from the three heads of the stony Cerberus at the god's feet. He craned his neck upward.

"Can you give me a hand?"

"Not until you tell me what you're thinking."

Henri sighed. He then pointed at Serapis' sun necklace. "This god...he used to be the god of the underworld. Well, where are we right now?"

"Underground..." Malik nodded slowly. "What's up with the sun then?"

"He was then converted into an Egyptian god of the sun. But more specifically, he was the god of Alexandria."

"So...?"

"I think the key to unlocking whatever it is he's guarding has to do with the necklace around his neck. I think the key to unlocking... whatever it is he's guarding has to do with the necklace around his neck. I need you to help me get up there so I can get a better look."

Malik glanced at Serapis' sun medallion before nodding at him. He got down on one knee and patted his thigh. A smirk was plastered across his face as he waited for the other boy to take the hint. Henri rolled his eyes again.

"Don't make it weird."

"Sorry."

He placed his foot on the boy's thigh, the muscles beneath his pants leg taut and solid. Using Malik's wide shoulders for support, he swung a leg onto Serapis' lap and attempted to climb on. Clearly, he needed to visit the gym more often, as his arms weren't in the mood to support his weight. His eyes bulged as he felt himself slipping off the smooth, marble. The shriek that had been crawling up his throat died once he felt Malik's strong hand press against his lower back, forcing him up with ease. Face reddening, he stood up atop Serapis' stony robes and smoothed out his own garments.

Malik simply smirked. "You alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He turned and marveled at Serapis' medallion. It shined under the light of his flashlight. The bronze was glossy enough for him to see his reflection in it; the pendant itself was about the size of his face, wide and large. The sun itself was detached from the inner medallion, which sported a flat, spinning piece in the center. They were both connected via running through the outer circle. A face had been printed on the front of the smaller piece; it reminded him of the gold Krugerrands his mother collected. He carefully prodded the piece and it rotated slightly under his touch. Sucking in a quick breath, he snatched his hand backward.

"Did you break it?" Malik called out from below.

"No!"

At least he hoped he didn't. Breaking a piece of a statue that might've been hundreds of years old had to be some sort of crime. Arkangel Industries were the criminals here, not him. Speaking of, he hadn't heard any sign of Monet for a while yet. He figured she'd gotten lost in the tunnels, the pessimist in him insisted the woman had a few tricks up her sleeve. For all he knew, the woman was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Hey, Malik. Keep an eye on that doorway, yeah?"

"On it."

While the boy stood watch, Henri got to work on analyzing Serapis' sun medallion. He wrung his hands as he contemplated touching it again. Malik had been joking, but his words stuck in his head like gum beneath his shoe. What if he accidentally broke the statue? The sacred monument had stood the test of time thus far. Who was he to infringe on that? At the same time, he needed to figure out a way out of this room and he knew that necklace held the answers he needed.

He exhaled. "Sorry, Serapis." He pressed the sun again, harder this time. It spun like a coin on a tabletop, the quiet sound of bronze touching bronze filling his ears. He quickly stopped it between his fingertips. Huh. It was, in fact, like a coin, because the other side held the image of a heart. He lifted his brow at it; he didn't recall Serapis being the patron god of love. Had he missed that lesson?

"Figure it out yet?" Malik asked with his face pointed toward the entrance to the room.

"No," he grumbled. His shoulders sank with disappointment. He carefully dismounted the statue with the help of his companion and observed its engravings for what felt like the millionth time. His eyes scanned a section, and then something in his brain clicked. His eyes scanned a section, and he thought back to the heart printed onto the other side of Serapis' medallion. Then it clicked. "Actually, I think I got something...."

He couldn't decipher everything, but he managed to relate enough pieces to things he'd seen before to interpret the message Serapis was presenting. It read:

"In Serapis' heart, love and wisdom align,

The sun turns, a celestial sign.

Love is the key to resurrection's door,

Find the library, knowledge to explore.

With a kiss echoing through halls of time,

Unlock the entrance to treasures of all minds."

Malik appeared at his side. "What's it say?"

His face suddenly felt warm despite the cold draft swirling throughout the cavernous room. Clearing his throat, he avoided looking at the boy at his side as he tried to make sense of what he'd read. There was a high chance he'd totally misinterpreted the code. He was by no means an expert at reading ancient languages. But he did know way more than the average person; just one of the perks of being the child of two genius anthropologists and attending the best school in England.

"Uh, hello? How are you zoning out right now?"

"Er, sorry." He rubbed the back of his reddening neck. "The, um, the statue basically says wisdom and love align within Serapis' heart. When the sun turns..." He swallowed hard. "When the sun turns, a door unlocks. The message directly mentions the library."

Malik's face lit up. "Okay, that's great! Right?" He tilted his head at Henri. "You don't look happy. You kind of look like you're about to throw up. It's okay to be nervous, but it sounds like all we've got to do is spin that—"

"The message says love is the key to the door."

"Oh."

The pair went silent.

This felt like some twisted joke. Even the slight smile carved into Serapis' white face insinuated he found amusement in this.

"Maybe I didn't read it right."

"I mean..." Malik's voice trailed off as he dropped his gaze to his feet. His hands disappeared into his pockets, his fingers pushing against the fabric of his jeans as they searched for something they wouldn't find. "Maybe you did?"

Henri tilted his head at him. "We'll just have to find another way to open the—"

"The message said love is the only way to open the door, right?"

He nodded, his heart racing faster than a hummingbird.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I feel like it's telling us to kiss," Malik said. "Unless you want to wait around for Monet to find us and convince her to kiss you instead of killing you."

His nose immediately crinkled at the thought of kissing that woman. She wasn't even terrible looking, his brain just couldn't fathom it. Malik was joking anyway. There was no way in hell Monet wouldn't try to kill them the moment she found them. The only way they could complete Serapis' request was by kissing each other.

A thin sheet of sweet manifested against his forehead. Now, he didn't have any issues with kissing Malik. This wasn't the first time he thought about doing so either. But his fantasies didn't have them doing it in this fashion; he imagined them in the streets of Paris or on a boat in Bali. Not in some dusty temple underground, forced to kiss to appease some stupid statue.

He scowled at Serapis.

"So, we doing this or what?" Malik walked up to him. He stopped just inches away from him. Their height difference was quite apparent now. The top of Henri's head barely reached the boy's clavicle, causing him to lift his chin to peer at his face.

Cheeks flushed and an army of butterflies assaulting his stomach, he awkwardly cleared his throat. He hadn't brushed his teeth since the morning. He probably smelled like body odor and dirt. He couldn't kiss Malik like this.

"If you don't want to, we don't—"

"No!" He shuffled his feet. "I mean... Let's do this." He took a calming breath.

The boys locked eyes. They leaned forward. Their lips touched.

Then it was over. He barely remembered how it felt. He didn't even get a chance to close his eyes. As Malik slowly moved his head backward, Henri stood there, frozen, with his eyebrows raised in surprise. They turned toward the statue, waiting for the entrance to the Library of Alexandria to be revealed.

But nothing happened.

Malik furrowed his brow. "I thought you said that was going to work."

"I-I... It was supposed to..." He wanted to curl into a ball and die. He wanted Monet to come and set him on fire. He wanted nothing more than to be out of this hellhole.

Of course, he didn't want to kiss me! Of course, he doesn't like me!

A million other similar thoughts continuously punched him in the face as if he were sparring with Mike Tyson himself.

"Maybe the kiss wasn't good enough."

"Huh?"

"I mean, that was just a peck. My Grams kisses me on the cheek like that."

Henri didn't reply. He wouldn't have known the difference, regardless. He'd never kissed anyone before.

"You looked pretty nervous. I didn't want to push it, you know? But maybe Serapis wanted, like, a real kiss."

"What are you saying?"

"We should do it again. But for real this time."

Henri's head was spinning now. "You...you want to try it again?"

Before he could answer, distant footsteps sounded from the corridor they entered the room from. His eyes snapped to the doorway. Now his heart was really beating. It only sounded like one set of steps, but he couldn't be too sure with the echo. All he knew was he didn't want to be there to find out.

"Don't think we've got much of a choice," Malik said.

Henri nodded. They were running out of time.

Malik turned toward him. He cupped Henri's face with his large, calloused hands. His soft jaw fit perfectly in Malik's palms. He melted into the boy's touch. Even his legs threatened to go out from underneath him. Eyes widening, his breath hitched as he waited for Malik to speak. The air crackled with a sense of anticipation as Serapis' sun pendant began to spin on its own.

"I think that's our cue," Malik quipped.

"I-I suppose it is..."

"You ready?"

He couldn't even speak anymore. He opted for a quick nod instead.

Malik leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. Henri's mind went blank as his eyes fluttered closed. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Malik's neck. The boy responded by drawing him in further with his hands. Their lips danced as golden light poured from the engravings etched into the stone holding up Serapis and his throne. After what felt like a century, the pair broke apart, their open mouths silently gasping for air as they stared into each other's longing eyes.

"Woah," Henri said.

"Woah indeed," Malik parroted. He lifted a brow at the boy, a hint of a smirk playing on his full lips. "Was...was that your first kiss?"

"What? No, of course not. I've had plenty of—"

"It was your first kiss."

He hung his head. "Yes...yes, it was."

Malik laughed. "Not bad for your first time."

As he opened his mouth to retort, he felt a surge of energy pulse through the room. He swore he heard whispering, almost as if Serapis was making his approval known. The sound of gears grinding, and stone sliding filled his ears. They both turned their attention to the statue. The engravings in the stone base were glowing with golden light, illuminating the room. Henri's eyes widened.

He had never seen anything like it before. That's because it shouldn't have existed. None of this should have. But if the last day had taught him anything, it was that he knew nothing about the world. Though, he had figured out one thing.

The crystals in the wall back in the catacombs, the statue's glowing marks, and Serapis' necklace... He knew what they were made from. He knew what gave them their magical power. It was eldricite—exactly what Monet and Arkangel were searching for.

They were on the right track. That scared him.

The sun pendant hanging from Serapis' neck was spinning like a dreidel now. The sound of stone shifting filled Henri's ears as he watched the side of the statue shifting. Slabs of rock moved around like pieces of a Rubix cube until large parts of it pulled away, revealing another opening that went deeper into the earth.

"Looks like we've got our way out," Malik said.

"Looks like it."

A moment of silence awkwardly slid between the two of them. Henri opened his mouth to try and dispel the quiet, but the set of footsteps from before carried out the task for him. A dark silhouette in the corridor behind them was barreling through the shadows. A shrill voice called after them, the sharp sound bouncing off the walls like a ricocheting bullet. He couldn't see who it was, but he didn't need to.

They didn't have any more time to waste.

Henri held his hand out. Malik took it immediately. Nodding, the two of them delved deeper into the earth in search of the hidden library.