By the time we made it through customs and baggage claim, I was running on fumes. The heat hit me like a physical blow the moment I stepped through the sliding doors at the airport's main exit. After hours in the cold air conditioning, it was almost a relief. I paused, squinting against the sun, letting the heat settle over me.
I drifted forward in the crowd, drawn into the knot of competing voices. Vendors lined the walkway, calling out to tourists and travelers alike. A man with tobacco-stained teeth thrust a carved scarab toward me, chattering in rapid Arabic before switching to broken English when I didn't respond.
"Very good price for pretty lady!"
"No, thank you," I said firmly.
He followed me, lowering his price with every step. Behind him, others began to circle, drawn by the possibility that I might buy something. A woman with hennaed hands held up bangles that glittered in the sun. A teenage boy moved beside her, flashing a stack of postcards and pointing at statuettes that looked like they'd been made in a factory last week.
Eliza flung her arm over my shoulder, her voice at my ear. "Don't make eye contact. Don't touch anything. And whatever you do, don't let them see you're interested in anything, or we'll be here all day."
I gave a quick nod, following her as we worked our way through the crowd. The vendors continued to call out, their voices a mixture of genuine disappointment and practiced manipulation. One elderly man clutched at my sleeve, but Eliza jerked her head sharply and guided me away.
My expectations of Egypt had been shaped by the documentaries and travel shows I watched as a kid, all carefully edited shots of golden sand dunes and ancient ruins. The reality was grittier, more immediate, and I loved it.
At the curb, where a queue for taxis was already forming, the air was thick with exhaust fumes and scents I couldn't identify. Cars honked in what seemed like a continuous symphony of frustration, while motorcycles weaved between them with confidence that bordered on insanity. A dry wind tugged at my ponytail, pulling loose strands free to stick against the sweat at the back of my neck.
A small boy, maybe ten years old, materialized beside me as we waited for our taxi. I caught the faint tug at my pocket before I even saw his hand, and without thinking, I grabbed his wrist. He froze, his dark eyes meeting mine. For a breath, we simply stared at each other. Then something shifted in his expression. It wasn't fear or guilt, but a flicker of amusement.
Slowly, he opened his hand. The necklace Eliza had given me rested in his palm, catching the sunlight in a dull glint of silver. Looking at it now, nestled in the boy's palm, I realized I didn't want it back. It had felt wrong against my skin from the moment it had been fastened around my neck.
"Keep it," I whispered, offering the kid a small wink.
The jewelry unsettled me in a way I didn't know how to explain without sounding like I was crazy. Just looking at the damn thing brought everything back. The doctors. The diagnosis. The pills.
His eyes widened. He looked from me to the necklace and back again, as if trying to determine whether this was some kind of trick. When I made no move to take it back, he closed his fingers around it and melted back into the crowd as quickly as he'd appeared.
"You've got to watch the younger ones," Eliza said. She had flagged down our ride, her hand opening the car door. "They'll rob you blind and make you thank them for it."
I laughed, pulled out my wallet, and slid in next to her. "Still here. No need to panic."
We rejoined the group at a meet-up spot that turned out to be a nondescript hotel on the edge of the city. The parking lot was packed with dust-covered jeeps and pickup trucks, most of them loaded with equipment crates.
Groups of people clustered around the vehicles. The rest of the university students hovered nearby, trying to look useful while the more seasoned members were securing equipment and double-checking lists with minimal conversation.
Eldon emerged from the hotel lobby wearing khaki pants and a shirt that somehow still looked crisp despite the heat. He scanned the lot until he spotted us, then lifted a hand in a brief wave and started walking over.
"The rest of the team's already at the site," he said, quickly stepping out of the way of departing pickup. "We've got a few things to set up before tomorrow, and I'd rather get it done before we lose the light." He pointed to one of the jeeps. "Come on. I'll drive you."
As we left the city behind, the landscape opened up into something that seemed almost biblical in its vastness. Rolling hills of sand and stone stretched toward horizons that shimmered with heat, broken occasionally by clusters of palm trees that marked the presence of water.
Eliza pointed out landmarks as we drove, her voice taking on the cadence of a tour guide. "That's the Giza complex in the distance," she said, indicating a cluster of shapes that were almost lost in the haze. "And over there, you can see the first of the smaller pyramids that most tourists never bother with."
The jeep had gone quiet for a few minutes, the hum of the road filling the silence. Eldon kept his eyes on the road as he spoke.
"So, Harper," he said lightly, like it was just an afterthought. "What does your family think about you disappearing to Egypt for a month?"
"They're not really involved," I said carefully, which was true in the most literal sense possible. Dead people tended to not have opinions about travel plans. Anytime someone asked about my parents or family, I gave vague, noncommittal answers. Just enough to satisfy curiosity, never enough to invite more questions.
Eldon gave a small nod, his eyes on the road. "That's too bad," he said. "But you'll find that everyone on this team looks out for each other. We're family, in our own way. I'm sure you'll fit in just fine."
He paused, then added. "And if things go well on this dig, there may be room for something more permanent."
I frowned, "Permanent? I'm just here for the summer. My major is engineering. Not sure how that would be a good fit."
"That could be an interesting combination," he said, "they are both about understanding how things are built, just from different perspectives. A double major is still possible, even with only a year left."
The jeep jolted over a dip in the road, and I glanced at Eliza. She was staring out the window.
Eldon shifted his grip on the wheel. "Eliza showed me some of your work online," he said, glancing over. "You've got a good eye."
I swallowed nervously. The sweat on my back had gone cold. I still remembered the sound of my camera shattering as I threw it against the wall. My hobby kept me afloat during the last year of high school, until the images in the darkroom started changing. I began to see things again, things that the pills were supposed to keep away.
"I've been busy with school and work," I said, "And my camera broke, haven't gotten around to replacing it."
"Well, we have some of the best equipment on site," he replied. "And now that you mention it there are private sponsors that are always looking for people who can document properly. Especially when it comes to digitizing older archives."
The conversation drifted to safer topics after that, and I relaxed in the seat as we approached the Valley of the Kings.
It didn't arrive all at once. First came the tourist buses, clustered like insects around shaded rest spots, their passengers spilling out with cameras and guidebooks in hand. Then came the shift in the land itself, the dunes falling away to reveal bone-colored rock, fractured and dry.
We drove deeper into the valley, the road narrowing as the cliffs closed in around us. Near the far end, the land grew rougher, scattered with crumbling rocks and debris that had fallen from the cliff face above. A few faded ropes marked off the unstable edges. A tight ring of tents had been set up around the rubble, their canvas sides fluttering in the wind.
Eldon parked the jeep in an area that had been marked off for vehicles, and I climbed out on legs that were stiff from the drive. The heat was even more intense here, reflecting off the pale stone and creating an almost visible shimmer in the air.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" he said, coming to stand beside me. "Imagine what could be sleeping beneath our feet."
"Oh," Eldon said suddenly, his voice casual but somehow focused, "you're not wearing your necklace. I thought Eliza gave it to you already."
Eliza froze mid-step, her body language reminiscent of a rabbit that had suddenly noticed a hawk circling overhead. My hand went instinctively to my throat.
"I think I might be allergic to the chain," I said, trying to keep my voice even. I wasn't sure why it mattered so much. Maybe he'd spent a ridiculous amount on it and the stone was real. "It gave me a headache, and my skin itched the whole time I wore it. I thought I put it in my pocket but I must have left it on the plane." I swallowed, already dreading the next part. "If it was expensive, I can pay you back."
Eldon stepped closer, his expression concerned but his eyes calculating. "Really? May I take a look?"
Before I could respond, his hands were in my hair, pushing the strands back to examine my neck. The unexpected contact made me want to step away, but I forced myself to remain still.
"I don't see any irritation," he murmured, his fingers trailing down to the base of my throat. His touch lingered longer than necessary. "But everyone reacts differently, I'll get another made with a different alloy since you lost this one."
His hands remained on my neck, and when he spoke again, his voice held a note of amusement.
"You know," he said conversationally, his fingers resting against my pulse point, "I saw you let that little pickpocket take it from you at the airport."
My heart stopped. His fingers were positioned perfectly to feel the way my pulse spiked.
"You can lie to me if you want," he said, "but I'd prefer if you didn't."
Before I could respond, a new voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Eldon? What the hell is going on here?"
We all turned to see a red-headed woman striding toward us, her face flushed with heat and what was clearly anger. She looked from Eldon to Eliza to me, her expression growing darker with each passing second.
"You didn't tell me about her," she said, her voice tight with controlled fury. "We have protocols for a reason, Eldon. Procedures. You can't just show up with random people and expect me to accommodate them."
Eldon stepped away from me, his hands finally dropping to his sides, but his expression remained perfectly calm. "She's here to replace Addison and Tomas."
"Replace?" Cassie's voice rose, sharp with disbelief. "You can't just replace them. I already made a concession with her." She jabbed a finger in Eliza's direction, the last word coming out like a bitter taste.
I looked at Eliza, eyebrows raised, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. She was staring at the ground like she wished it would swallow her whole. The silence that followed was thick with tension. I could see other members of the expedition beginning to notice the confrontation, their conversations dying away as they turned to watch.
"If this arrangement makes you that uncomfortable," Eldon said, walking past her like it was hardly worth his attention, "then there is no need for you to stay."
Cassie's face went white, then red. For a moment, I thought she might explode, but then she seemed to gather herself with visible effort. She stalked after him, her back rigid with fury. The people standing around quickly found reasons to be elsewhere, leaving Eliza and me standing in awkward silence.
"Where are we bunked?" I asked her.
"We're over there," she said, pointing to a cluster of canvas tents, their openings flapping in the slight breeze. "Two to a room. It's not glamorous, but it's functional."
Shouldering my duffel bag, I followed Eliza across the sandy ground to the tents. Each one had a small folding table, a battery powered lantern, and a few hooks for clothes. Spartan, but clean. I dropped my bag beside the nearest cot but didn't sit.
"Hey, Eliza," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Are we going to talk about what just happened?"
She didn't look up, still fiddling with her bag, pretending not to notice the silence stretching between us. Eliza finally looked up. Her face was unreadable, but I could see the tension there.
"She wasn't supposed to be here," she said at last, her voice tight with frustration. She pushed her pack back on the cot with more force than necessary. "Cassie's complicated. She's from old money. Used to getting what she wants, and not hearing no."
I waited, knowing that there was more.
"She's been pushing to make things more official between them," Eliza said, not quite looking at me. "But Eldon only keeps her around because she's useful."
She drew in a sharp breath. "But she doesn't see it that way. She thinks it means more. And that makes her a giant pain in the ass."
"If it's that bad," I said quietly, "why do you put up with it?"
Eliza stilled, just for a moment. Then, without looking at me, she said, "I can't. My brother's sick. Treatment costs more than we can manage. After this summer, I'm being offered a paid position. It'll be enough to cover what my family needs, at least for a while."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know. I hope he's doing okay."
She didn't answer. Instead, she stood and brushed her hand down the front of her shirt, smoothing fabric that didn't need it. "They're setting up dinner near the main tent. I'll introduce you to everyone.
I followed Eliza out to where a few folding tables had been set up under the open sky. The food was simple: rice, lentils, flat-bread. It was hot and better than I expected. She introduced me to the rest of the team. Most were polite, though distracted, already deep in conversation or half-asleep on their feet.
I kept my answers short, smiled when I was supposed to, and tried to take in names I knew I wouldn't remember by morning. Afterward, Eliza wandered off to help with equipment checks. I didn't ask where she was going. I went back to the tent, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the cot.
I was asleep before I could even think about brushing my teeth.