Ghosts of Karnak by George Mann Page A

superstitious bunch, you see, and believe the tomb to be cursed. I’m the one who cracked the seal, the first one to have gone inside, and so now they are waiting for me to succumb to the curse and drop dead at their feet. The longer I live, the better for them, as the curse will spread to any and all associated with the dig.”
    “Well, now I’m thinking twice about going inside,” said Ginny.
    “Oh, it’s too late for that,” said Amaury. “Your card’s been marked. You’re here at the dig.”
    “Ah, well then, I suppose I’ve nothing to lose.”
    “That’s the spirit,” said Amaury. “The entrance is just over here. I hope you’re not claustrophobic…”
    He led her down into the excavation pit, taking her hand and guiding her across a wooden gangplank that had been tenuously balanced across two blocks of stone. When he reached the other side, he dropped into a crouch, indicating a small cavity in the side of the trench.
    It was no taller than three foot high, and about the same width, but she could see sandstone blocks were supporting it. “In
there
?” she said.
    “Yes. We need to wriggle in on our stomachs,” said Amaury. “The seal has been broken, and there’s a small drop into the tomb on the other side. You can stand up in there, once you’re in.”
    “And how do we get back out again?” Ginny could hear the tremulousness in her own voice. She hadn’t expected to go crawling about underground. The idea didn’t immediately appeal to her.
    “The same way,” said Amaury. “Don’t worry. One of the workers will help us back up. I’ve done this plenty of times.”
    “Why haven’t you fully excavated the entrance?” said Ginny.
    “These things take time. They have to be done slowly. If we haven’t shored it all up properly, the sand will just spill back into the tomb.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, Ginny. You’ll be fine.”
    “All right,” she said. She tried not to think of Landsworth’s bizarre warning. “You go first, I’ll follow behind you.”
    Amaury nodded. He dropped down onto his front, reached into the opening, and pulled himself through. A moment later she heard him land on the other side, and after a moment of scrabbling about, his voice echoed through the hole. “Come on. I’ll catch you.”
    “Here goes nothing,” muttered Ginny, lowering herself onto the warm sand and wriggling forward like a snake.
    No sooner had her fingertips reached the edge of the lip than she felt Amaury’s hands take her wrists, sliding her forward. She couldn’t make out much in the darkness, and for a moment, panic threatened to overcome her. What on earth was she doing here, in the middle of the Egyptian desert, climbing into a dark tomb with a Frenchman she barely knew?
    Then she was falling, tumbling head first into the void on the other side of the hole, and Amaury was catching her, gathering her up and preventing her from hitting the floor.
    “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
    She righted herself with a gasp, smoothing the sand from the front of her blouse. The only light in the tomb was leaching in through the small hole she’d just entered by, and she could make out nothing beyond the silhouette of Amaury, standing close by.
    “Are you okay?” he said.
    “Yes, yes. I’m fine,” said Ginny, a little hastily. “But it’s so dark in here. Aren’t you going to light a torch?”
    “I was waiting for you,” said Amaury. “The effect is quite spectacular.” He took a matchbook from his pocket and struck one, the flare momentarily under-lighting his face and giving him a sinister aspect. He stooped and collected a wooden torch from a pile just by the door, and put the flame to it. A moment later, the stench of burning pitch filled her nostrils.
    As the flame began to take, however, she soon forgot her discomfort; the light from the torch seemed to stir the room to life, as if summoning it from the depths of time.
    The walls were covered in gold;