{{E N T O M B E D -- CS Egypt Story}}

[GizmoTheDragon]

ENDANGERED:
After nerve-wracking hours of being trapped inside of a trap room, it has been discovered that the only exit leads right into the Queen's chamber. At last! The tomb has at last been found, but the mummy doesn't seem to be the only thing that was inside.
...Chapter Eleven...

"When they said there was a curse, I thought that something drastic would happen. I thought I would be vaporized or impaled or lacerated, but never did I think I'd be swarmed..."

Thousands upon thousands of them flew maddeningly around in the darkness in a chorus of insect clicking. The rasping of their rapid insect wing-beats formed an overwhelming hum that made her very skull vibrate. They were so thick in the air that she inhaled them as she breathed and coughed and sputtered on them as she tried in vain to spit them out. She could feel their tiny legs scratching in her throat, making her gag further. She reached up with her hands to block her face, but there were too many to stop. They flew blindly into her, pelting her like hailstones in a thunderstorm.

Blindly, she flailed, trying to run away, but she couldn't force her limbs to move far enough. It was like her mind was disconnected from her body, and no matter how much she screamed at herself to move, she couldn't. She stumbled backward, running right into something big and living. She yelped in surprise only to find it was Tundra, who hardly budged. For the moment, he seemed paralyzed as well.

Then he suddenly did move, catching her before she fell to the ground and pulling her back onto her feet. She clung to him like a person drowning in the sea, the treacherous currents threatening to drag her under. Seeming filled with the same desperation, he pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around her and closing his eyes against the relentless swarm of insects pelting into his face. She buried her face in his shoulder, losing herself in the embrace and trying desperately to escape the tempest of insect bodies that raged around them.

But they were both trapped in that horrid eternity, clinging to each other like the sole survivors of a shipwreck.

Then, all at once, the storm ceased and they were alone in the cavern. The space around them suddenly seemed empty and oddly silent without the cacophony of scarabs. Uncertainly, she opened her eyes, afraid to see if it was really over or if it was just a delusion. But it was real. There were no more insects.

"I think they're gone." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The small moment of solace they'd found in each other popped like a bubble. "Oh, right." He let go of her awkwardly, hands dropping to his sides. She did the same, but she jammed her hands in her pockets. "Um..."

"You think this is the tomb?" she asked, changing the subject.

"It's a safe bet." he said. "And that was probably the curse."

Her eyes lit up as excitement sparked in her mind. "Really?" she exclaimed. "Great! So it's real! I experienced it first hand! This is totally going in the article!"

He pulled out a flashlight, mouth set in a grim line. "I wouldn't be too happy yet. If they rigged that to happen, I don't know if I want to know what will happen when we go farther in."

She squinted at him. "Hey, you've got bugs in your hair." she said, reaching up and dusting them off. "There."

He seemed stunned into silence for a moment before saying. "Uhh-"

"You two sicken me."

The four words dripped from the darkness like venom. The voice was unrecognizable, but distinctly female, odd and melodic in a powerful, almost seductive way. But there was no charm there now, only poison.

Curiosity fueling her, making her brave, she stepped further into the chamber. "Who's there?" she asked. Tundra snatched her wrist, preventing her from going any further. She didn't break away from his grip- for now.

"Oh, sorry. Perhaps I should introduce myself."

With a snap of her fingers, every torch in the cavern sprung to life, crackling with orange-and-red flame. Only then could Gracie take in the tomb in its entirety, in its glorious splendor. In the center of the room, the sarcophagus glowed, it's golden facets set alight in the luminance of the flames. But it was open, the gaping void inside of it empty of a mummy. However standing beside it, elegant fingers gently stroking the golden surface, was a tall, ravishing, completely alive woman. Her long black hair was silky and brushed, bangles of gold inset with precious gems covered her arms, a necklace with a golden ankh pendant hanging around her neck. Golden tattoos lined her face, gilded dots under her eyes exaggerating the bright blue of her irises, which were filled with rage and hate.

"My name is Cleocatra, high Queen of Egypt. And you, mere grave robber?"

"We're not grave robbers." Tundra said.

The Queen gave a laugh sharp with acrimony. "That is what they all say. They'll tell you they mean no harm. They'll tell you they only mean to look. They'll even tell you they love you." her lovely voice cracked. "But they're all the same. Their silky words ring hollow when they steal your treasure. Greed always wins. Greed wins out over all."

The speech made Gracie's heart twist with what almost might be compassion combined with mortal dread, because she had a bad feeling about what happened to grave robbers.

"We're not grave robbers." Tundra repeated. "We've been returning your treasure to you."

This seemed to spark interest in her. "Really? You haven't been doing too great of a job. I'm still missing much of it."

"So I've heard." Gracie muttered bitterly.

The Queen's eyes turned steely. "Don't be insolent with me, peasant."

Suddenly, there was a thundering cataclysm of noise, as if an avalanche was tumbling down a mountain, and a door behind the queen opened. In ran the head guard followed by his cronies. He stiffened when he saw Gracie and Tundra in the Queen's chamber. "We will have them executed promptly, your highness."

Gracie's stomach dropped like a rock. Executed?

The regal woman threw a haughty glance their way. "That won't be necessary." she said to the guards. "Simply escort them out. They're my treasure hunters now, after all."

As the guards walked over to them, Tundra refused to budge. "No." he said firmly. "I'm not leaving without Kit."

"The girl!" the Queen snarled. "Is that all this is about? Is that why I was awoken from my slumber?"

"It appears so." Gracie said hesitantly.

The Queen turned to glare at her guards. "How many times have I told you not to take hostages?"

The head guard bared his teeth in a snarl at the chastisement, but didn't say anything.

She shook her head in disdain. "Give them the girl. She's more trouble than she's worth. I can hear her prattling through the entire night. It disturbs my sleep."

"As you wish." the head guard said icily, turning to go back down the passageway from which he'd come. A few minutes he came back with a somewhat bedraggled looking Kit. Rings of sleeplessness curled around her eyes and her clothes were covered in a layer of dirt and dust, but she appeared unharmed. Her green eyes brightened she saw Tundra.

In the span of three steps, the two were in each others arms, both almost looking like they were on the verge of tears. Dimly, Gracie felt herself smile, he guilt falling off of her shoulders like melting snow. Things were right again.

The Queen, on the other hand, seemed anything but pleased. Her face wrinkled. "Young love. How I despise it." she said acridly. "Callow mortals losing themselves in fits of emotion. It's weak."

Gracie turned toward the Queen, though she wasn't going to say it out loud, she had to disagree. Any emotion that could force someone to intrepidly travel into the depth of a pyramid without thinking twice has to be completely strong. Stronger, maybe, than greed and guilt and accrued hatred. Maybe something this strong could overcome all. (Or maybe she, in her head, just sounded like some sort of fairy godmother in a princess story).

"What about the scarabs?" she asked. "Where did they go?"

A malicious smile crept across the Queen's face "Oh, they're just my curse on the world for disrupting my slumber."

Gracie gaped without realizing it. The woman curses and entire kingdom just because someone work her up from her sleep? she wondered incredulously. What a diva! "How do we get the curse lifted?"

"I thought that would be obvious." she said. "Bring me my artifacts. Every last one."

She raised her chin defiantly. "Fine." she said. "We will. Now, would you mind showing us the way out."

The Queen pointed a finger toward the entrance the guards used. "Take the stairs. They will lead you swiftly to the entrance."

Just as the three were about to leave, the Queen said her final words, which echoed harrowingly on the stone walls. "One last thing:"

Gracie turned around to see the Queens' piercing gaze lock onto hers.

"Any mortal who has set foot within my chamber is doomed to die."

Sorry for the short chapter! I thought that was a nice cliffhanger to leave off at, and I can't stay up any longer! I have to get up early tomorrow! Anyway, thanks for reading!

[GizmoTheDragon]

ENCUMBERED:
It's all real: the curse, the queen, the guards. The queen, who is very much alive, has unleashed a plague of scarabs upon the land as punishment for waking her from her slumber. The land has been plunged into turmoil, and there is but one way to convince her to lift the curse.
...Chapter Twelve...

"The people here were not prospering, but they were surviving well enough. Even as in tune with the land as they were, they had no idea of the disaster that was to befall them..."

Puffs of dust took to the air with every step down the winding road. As she followed it into the market, she found the streets to be desolate and abandoned. The town which had previously throbbed to the pulse of life was empty and hollow. In the air, scarabs flitted in meandering flight paths, the air reverberating with the low humming of their wings. The few people who were about kept shawls and scarves pulled up over their faces, trying to keep out the insects. Due to the stifling heat, she herself had given up on covering her face, simply keeping her hood pulled up around her head made her feel like she was on the verge of heatstroke.

By the time they'd emerged from the pyramid earlier, it had been seven in the morning, and the sun way already peering down from a pastel blue sky.

"You two head back to the dig site." she'd said at the time. "I want to see the damage to the town for myself."

Enveloped now in the hollow silence of what had suddenly become practically a ghost town, she was coming to regret that decision. Still, she couldn't stop. She wouldn't let herself even dream of it. Bracing herself, she pushed on, taking in the sights of desolation in quiet acceptance.

"Argh! Dratted scarabs! Get out! Get out of those!"

She walked up to the clothing vendor's tent to see him swinging a flyswatter wildly at the scarabs swarming his tent. He swore lividly, beating them out of the folds of the clothing on the racks. As she neared him, she cringed away from a clump of scarabs sent reeling out into the street. She stopped by the counter. "Need some help there, Marcus?" she asked.

He looked up at her, pausing for a moment in his struggle. "Oh, it's you." he said, eyeing her apparel. "See you're dressing like the locals." he said dryly.

"Yes." she said with equal sarcasm. "Everyone in the desert wears black. It keeps you nice and toasty in the scorching sun." She leaned against the counter, resting her elbows on the smooth surface, which was clean except for the insect carcasses that littered it. "So, do you want some help?"

He sighed, whirling around to shake out another rack of clothing, setting loose more creepy-crawlies in the process. "Actually, yes. If you wouldn't mind, could you bring the bug net down over the front of the tent? It should eliminate most of the problem."

She did as he said, locating the net where it was bound over the entrance and bringing the thin, gossamer material down just over the entrance to the tent yet behind the counter. "Anything else?' she asked.

He shrugged. "Well, if you're bored, you could help me catch some of these." he suggested.

She walked in the tent, brow furrowing. "Catch them?" she asked. "Why would you want them?"

"My kids like to keep them as pets." he explained, grabbing a small bug-proof cage and a few nets from the corner of his tent.

She raised an eyebrow. "You have kids?"

He scowled a little bit. "Yes." he, handing a net to her. Inwardly, she found this surprising- he hadn't seemed like a family man. Didn't even seem old enough to have one!

In twenty minutes' time, after quite a bit of sweat and frustration, they had a cage teeming with scarabs and a tent completely free of them.

"Thanks for your help." he said, shaking her hand. "Those scarabs were going to ruin all of the clothes- and my business! There's no ends to the infestations here! First the foxes and now this!" He tsked with disdain. "Honestly, those scarabs came from no where! It almost looked like they came from the pyramid."

Gracie sighed, knowing that she couldn't tell him about what was really going on, about the curse and the queen. "I'm sorry about all of this. I really hope it doesn't hurt your business too much. It'd be a shame to see you go bankrupt."

He laughed a little bit. "I won't go bankrupt until the locals all move out. I don't really need the tourists. Back before all of this hullaballoo, it was just me and a bunch of fabric and a bunch of clothe-less locals. The tourists just make me earn much more money." he said. He paused, giving her a once over. "And, speaking of clothes. You need an outfit."

She started to decline, but he insisted, saying that. "You helped save my entire stock from destruction, the least I can do is give you something other than the death shroud you have on."

At that, he reached into his stock, rifling through a bunch of Egyptian cotton dressed. "Say, you already bought a white dress from me, didn't you?'

She nodded. It was the dress she'd bought her first day of being here. He took this into account, pulling out a dress that was very similar to the one she had but different in color, being more of an ecru that reminded her of parchment paper. "Go put this on." he said, pointing to his now non-bug infested make-shift dressing room. She sure couldn't argue; she was getting free clothes! So she complied, getting dressed in the shoe-box of a dressing room and then coming out.

He looked her over, nodding in satisfaction. "The color's good for you. It makes your skin tone look darker, and the strapless-ness shows of the star tattoos on your shoulder." He turned back to his storage. "But you can't go out in this scarab-infested ghost town without a scarf or shawl.



After ten minutes of trying things on and rearranging things, she ended up wearing the parchment colored dress with a red cape of shimmering scarlet. In her hair was a red rose to match it, and, of course, her mirror pendant. As soon as she stepped out of the tent, saying thank you for the hundredth time, someone called her name urgently.



"Gracie!"

"Gracie! Over here!"

She whirled around and saw the two people who she was hoping that she wouldn't see here - her sisters. She plastered on a happy smile for them, but inwardly she cringed. It always seemed that, whenever she was on a really important job, her sisters just to happened to vacation in the exact place where she was.

Not that she didn't love her sisters, but she would rather love them from a distance. Especially if that distance it across the entire Atlantic ocean.

"Hey, Mariam. Hey, Phoebe." she said.

Mariam, her older sister, immediately trapped her in a rib-crushing hug. Phoebe followed suit. "Good to see you again, little sis. I had no idea you were going to be here!" Her surprise was about as fake Gracie's smile. Her sister was never an actress.

Yeah. Sure you didn't. "Who told you?'

Mariam rolled her eyes. "Psh. No one."

Gracie gave the expression that said, Really? You really think I'm that stupid? "Who?" she insisted.

Her sister groaned. "Jack at the magazine office."

Curse you Jack at the magazine office! she thought, mentally shaking her fist and reminding herself to talk to that guy when she got back from her trip.

Phoebe hugged her, then stepped back to gape at her dress. "Where did you get that?" she asked, reaching out to feel the cape draped over her shoulders. "It's really pretty on you!"

She turned and pointed to the tent she'd just emerged from. "That one." she said. "He picked out the entire outfit. You should get something from there. He has a real eye for matching colors and matching colors to people." She put in her best word for him, urging as many customers toward him as she could.

Her violet eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh, is he the one with the brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes?" she asked, and, as usual, continued without giving a chance to answer. "He's the one I bought this dress from! He said I'd blend into the locals perfectly!"

Ha, ha. Fat chance of that. she thought dryly, but instead said. "Yeah. That's him. And this is actually the second dress I've gotten from him. He's got quite the variety."

Mariam nodded. "Maybe we could go look around some more there?" she suggested.

Phoebe nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! I tried giving him my number but he wouldn't take it!" she said. A mischievous grin spread across her face. "Maybe I could give it another shot."

"Wouldn't waste your time." Gracie said, rolling her eyes. "He has a wife and two kids."

Phoebe gave her a half-hug. "Aw. Sounds like you found out the hard way. Sorry you struck out on that one, Grace."

"Yeah." Mariam said solemnly. "He would've been a catch."

Before she could launch into an explanation of how she really found this information out, someone interrupted her.

"Gracie!"

The three sisters whirled around as if on cue to see none other than Tundra walking toward them down the road. Beside her, Phoebe whistled. "Speaking of catches." she muttered to her sister.

Once he reached them, he paused. His face folded into a scowl of confusion. "Gracie, there are three of you?"

"Yep." Mariam and Phoebe said in unison.

"No!" the real Gracie exclaimed. Her peered at them, as if finally perceiving the differences in eye and hair color. "I mean, there are three of us, but not three of me. I'm the real me; the real Gracie. They aren't."

Something appeared to click in his mind, because recognition suddenly flared in his eyes. "Oh! And they are?"

Gracie bit her lip. "My... sisters." she said hesitantly.

Mariam tossed her hair, putting on her best smile. "I'm Mariam Penbrooke. Pleased to meet your acquaintance Mr...?"

"Tundra." he said. "Tundra Mathers."

"Ooh. Nice name. I like it. It's kind of rugged." she said admiringly. Gracie had to refrain from rolling her eyes.

"And I'm Phoebe and still a Penbrooke." her younger sister said brightly. "And still available."

His brow furrowed. "Okay. Nice to meet you? I'll keep that in mind?" His voice lilted upward in a question.

Gracie couldn't take any more of this. If she had o watch another second, she was probably going to explode or just die of embarrassment and melt into a little puddle of goo. "So, where's Kit?" she asked, casting meaningful glances at her sisters.

"She's at home." Tundra said, seeming to see his way out of this awkward situation. "But Archie wants to see you back at the pit."

Both of her sisters visibly perked at the sound of another mans' name, and Gracie visibly cringed at their reaction. "Well, that must be important if he wants to see me this early in the morning." she said a little to enthusiastically. "Sorry Mari, sorry Phoebe! I've got to go get fodder for my article. Have fun shopping!" As soon as she finished speaking, she grabbed Tundra by the arm and practically ran away. Behind them, the sisters waved goodbye.

Once they were out of earshot and on the road to the pit, he said. "And who were they, again?"

Gracie sighed, releasing her grip on his arm. "The one with the blue eyes and hair was Mariam, my older sister, and the other one was Phoebe, my little sister." she said. "I'm sorry about that. But you could've spared yourself the pain and just called me."

"I tried. You didn't answer."

Gracie reached for her phone to check if it was dead only to realize she hadn't been able to find it earlier. "Darn! I must have lost it in the pyramid or something. I haven't had it since!"

"Well, that explains a lot."

There was a pause. "Again, I'm sorry about my sisters. They're kind of certifiably insane."

"Well, you sound like you get along great with them." he said dryly.

"Can you blame me?" she said in exasperation. "And I love them, just not all of the time. Now is not one of those times."

There was a pause. "I never thought I'd ask you this," he said. "But how did you turn out normally?"

She scoffed. "I never thought you'd ask me that either. Usually the writer is the craziest one in the family."

"Okay," he admitted. "Maybe you aren't exactly normal, but you aren't desperate like them."

She shrugged. "It's because I'm a career-driven young woman. I can't waste the energy on being desperate. I'd ruin myself completely."

Tundra heaved out a sigh. "Speaking of ruin, the scarabs have already started destroying thing place. If we don't get this curse reversed, no one's going to be able to live here."

"I know." she said grimly. "How's Archie taking it.

"Not well. He isn't very happy with us. Not at all."

[derision]

i love this, please continue <3

[GizmoTheDragon]

INSPIRED:
The only way to lift the devastating curse is to return all of the Queen's artifacts, and that's exactly what has to be done. But the team has started to fear that they may not be able to accomplish this feat alone. If they should fail, the country would fall into despair and ruin.
...Chapter Thirteen...

"People are often asked to lend a hand, but this was a task that required more than hands. It required sweat and blood and tears and countless hours of sifting through the earth..."

Archie's oddly colored eyes locked onto her own, pinning her with the sheer force of their scrutiny and unchecked fury. "Do you two realize the extreme stupidity of what you've done?" he asked, voice as cool as tempered steel. "You've managed to not only almost get yourselves killed and endangered the hostage in the process, but you've awoken a supposed-to-be dead mummy and single-handedly destroyed the entire town!"

She refused to shy away from his penetrating stare. To look away, to flinch, even to blink would be akin to admitting defeat. "Well, there's nothing we can do about that now." she said, voice equally cold. "This is groundbreaking. This defies the laws of science as we know them. This isn't just a scam anymore. This is real- all of it. There's really a bunch of immortal tomb guards and a real queen and real scarabs flying around."

"I don't care how groundbreaking it is!" Veins were popping out of his forehead. "You should not have been interfering with these proceedings. You're here as a courtesy, Miss Penbrooke, and you are sorely stretching your limits."

She could've pointed out that she wouldn't have been in that pyramid if Tundra hadn't gotten trapped there first, but she couldn't even think of throwing him under the bus like that. "That hardly matters now!" she exclaimed. "We need to be fixing this problem, not sitting here pointing fingers at each other!"

"There's nothing else we can do!" he railed. "We've already given them everything we have! There's nothing left to give!"

"Then we need to find something else to give them!" she exclaimed. "Or this place is going to become uninhabitable! Everyone here will flee or die trying!"

"And when they do, I hope it pulls like a lodestone on your conscience that you are the one who brought this down upon them."

She seethed with rage, blood boiling. "How can you condemn them like this?" Fire leapt into her aquamarine eyes. "You're giving up on them! You're going to let their livelihoods be destroyed, and you're just going to walk away! They can't just walk away and fly back to their own country."

Archie smashed a fist against his desk. "Enough!" he roared. "Miss Penbrooke, get out of here. Now. You're no longer allowed near this dig site or its investigation team. Remove yourself from the premises, or you will be taken away by force."

A bitter laugh escaped her, forcing its way out of her throat. "Ha! What is it, Archie? Can't handle the truth? Let me tell you something: there is always the truth, and it always gets out eventually."

His eyes narrowed. "If any of this ends up in the article, so help me God-"

"Don't bother with the threats." she said. "It's nothing I haven't heard before, and from scarier people than you."

Then she turned around and stalked silently toward the exit, climbing up the ladder and leaving them all behind. With every step she took away, she felt their eyes boring into her like lasers on the back of her skull until she was finally out of sight. Inside, she fumed, head spinning maddeningly. The base truths were already too hard to comprehend: the queen, the curse. The implications of the reality were staggering. Combining that with the anger she felt at her being cast out and the exhaustion from staying awake for too many hours all coalesced into the painful knot of tension forming in her skull.

Suddenly, her painful silence was broken. "Hey, Gracie!"

She whirled around to see none other than Mariam and Phoebe walking toward her. Instinctually, she scowled. She wasn't in the mood for this today. "What do you want?'

"We heard the whole thing." Phoebe said. "The curse, the artifacts. Everything."

"You followed me? You were eavesdropping?" she seethed.

"It was Mariam's idea!" Phoebe quickly squeaked.

Gracie's older sister gave her an endearing look. "Come on," she said. "Don't look all angry with me. We can help you, you know! We can help search the garbage pile for the missing artifacts and help get the curse lifted."

She shook her head with disdain. "Just don't mess with anything." she said. "Forget it. Just forget you heard anything. This is my problem, I'll deal with it. Not you guys. Me."

All of her patience worn out for the day, she brushed past her sisters and went back into town. Alone, she walked all the way back to her hotel. For the moment, she needed time- to think, to rest, to let her anger subside. She knew that she could only find these things in solitude.

Just as she was opening her hotel door, she heard another voice behind her, "Gracie! You're back!"

She almost yelled an acidic rebuttal until she realized that it wasn't either of her sisters. She turned. It was Silver. She heaved out a sigh. "Hi, Silver." she said.

"So, you were out pretty much all night." she said, mischief gleaming in her bright blue eyes. "Did things go well with Tundra?"

This was another line of questioning she simply wasn't in the mood for. "Yeah, great. We ended up sitting in a pyramid death trap for a good four hours and then unleashed a curse that could destroy this entire town. All in all, I'd say we had a wonderful night together." Her voice was sharp with sarcasm.

She stared in confusion. "Wait, you what? The curse? Is that what these bugs are everywhere?" The realization dawned in her eyes and she put together the pieces of the puzzle. "Oh, God..."

"You're telling me." she said dryly. "And I'd love to give you the riveting details of my evening, but I'm rather dead on my feet and could use a shower to wash the cobwebs out of my hair."

"Tell me later?' she asked inquisitively.

"Absolutely." At long last, she swung the hotel door shut behind her and was truly alone, save for the small fox now snuffling around by her feet. Absently, she stroked the silky fur on its ears for a few moments before simply slipping into bed and falling into an exhausted sleep.

And in her sleep there came a dream.

The tomb was lit warmly, with orange firelight dancing on the walls, casting dark, unmoving shadows. The Queen was by her golden sarcophagus, not lying in it, but lounging on it casually, as if it were just a normal chair or couch Her armed forces surrounded her, forming a protective throng of muscle and steel.

Shackled to the wall was Tundra, bound and gagged and seemingly on the verge of unconsciousness.

She turned tot he Queen. "Let him go." she demanded as forcefully as she could manage, but the words felt hollow in her mouth.

The Queen leered, a smirk of satisfaction gracing her lips. "Give me my artifact."

Then, when she looked down there was something by her feet that wasn't there before. A small, simple canopic jar, the dark head of Daumutef at its crown. Quite mystified, she reached down to grab it. But just as her fingers were within a hair's breadth of it, it disappeared. Her head whipped around, locating it on the other side of the room.

"Hey! She exclaimed, glaring at the Queen.

The other woman simply glared coldly. "Give me my artifact."

With nothing left to do but comply, she walked urgently across the room and reached to pick up the jar, only to have it disappear and reappear again. She growled in the back of her throat. "Stop doing that! I know you're doing it!"

"Give me my artifact."

This time, she coiled together and then dove across the room, hands first to grasp her prize. But all she caught was an empty fistful of air. She whirled around, locating the artifact again on the other side of the room. Without speaking or giving the Queen warning, she leapt for the jar again, only to miss.

Feverish in her pursuit, she ran herself tired, darting constantly from one end of the room to the other in pursuit of the jar. she had to get it. She had to get it. She couldn't stop to consider giving up. She continued her endless, jagged dance of leaping back and forth across the tomb. All sets of eyes watched her.

In the background, she could hear him muttering. "Stop doing this. You're wasting your time. Don't was your worry on me. I'll be fine. you can' t get that artifact. She's toying with you. It's all a trap."

She ignored the voice. She had to try. She had to try. That jar was the only thing that mattered. Getting it so she could save Tundra, herself, and the rest of the citizens. That jar was the key. If only it would stop eluding her grasp.

In the background, the Queen was whispering. "Callow mortals. I almost find it humorous, to be so caught up in emotion to not see reason, to not think straight. How deliciously foolish they are. How mystifyingly odd. How do they always think that matters of the heart can overrule logic? How divinely defiant. How romantic... yet how foolish."

Somewhere in the distance was the rumble of thunder.

Suddenly, it all disappeared. Her eyes flashed open ad the pale gold light of day poured in, not the orange-flaxen of the firelight. There wasn't a tomb around her. Just a hotel room. For a moment, she took in the stillness, which was complete save for the fox nuzzling at her elbow. Then she realized someone was knocking on her door, beating urgently with their fist.

"I'm coming." she groaned tiredly, forcing herself out of bed despite the screams of protest from her sore muscles. Inwardly, she grimaced, but somehow she made it to the door and sung it open. Standing there was Silver, phone in hand.

"Someone wants to talk to you." she said, handing her the device.

Gracie took it in her hand, putting it up to her ear. "Hello?' she said, stifling a yawn.

"What did you do?" asked a distressed voice on the other end.

Her heart sunk. It was Tundra. Don't tell me he got locked in that pyramid again. she thought, mind flashing back to the night previous. "What do you mean? What happened?" she asked.

"I'm serious!" he exclaimed on the other end. "You did something! Who did you talk to?"

Fury bit into her words. "Look, I don't know what's going on, and I'm not behind it. I've been sleeping for the past few hours. If anything went wrong, you can go blame someone else."

"Really?" he asked, mystified.

"Yes! Now what's going on?"

He paused, and she could see him grimacing with dismay in her head as he said. "There's all these people here, none of them were invited. We've got half of the town sifting through our garbage pile, and about seventy five percent of the tourists working with them."

She scowled to herself. "It's like a call to arms." she muttered, but what could've inspired them all to do this, she had no idea.

Okay, maybe she had one idea.

[derision]

bumpy <3

[mermaidva]

This is awesome. :3

[GizmoTheDragon]

ENAMORED:
The Queen's rage is seemingly everlasting, even with hundreds searching away for her relics. She still sits in her stone tomb, watching the world with cold blue eyes, letting her curse run rampant. What could have instilled this fury and hate within her, no one knows, but the truth will soon be revealed.
...Chapter Fourteen...

"One thing I knew for sure was that the Queen's story was surely written on the papyrus scroll; Tundra had. What I didn't know was that her story was a saga of lust, tragedy, and salacious betrayal..."

"Sometimes, I really can't believe you two."

Her sisters squirmed uncomfortably under her glare, and for good reason. She was seething with anger, so much that it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine smoke coming out of her ears. Not that her anger wasn't justifiable- they had gone and done the one thing she'd requested them not to do, as always. She should've seen this coming, but it wasn't her fault her sisters always had to follow her around. she didn't ask for that!

"Don't be mad, Gracie." Mariam said. "We were only doing what was best."

"No you weren't!" she exclaimed. "You dragged the rest of the world into this when they shouldn't have been! This was a private investigation, emphasis on the private. You two weren't even supposed to know about it."

"If it's so private, how come you know about it?" Phoebe asked.

"Because it's my job! to know things!" she snapped.

Mariam made a 'tsk' noise in the back of her throat. "Come now, Gracie. You're being such a pessimist. We haven't done too badly now. The entire town is now working toward the same goal. Isn't that good?"

She continued to glower at them.

"Yeah." Phoebe chimed in. "And your attractive archaeologist friend seems to like you even more now. He hasn't stopped staring at you since you showed up."

Her eyes widened. "Wait- what?" She spluttered. She spun around, looking for Tundra, but he was on the other side of the dirt pile talking to Archie. She returned to glaring at her sisters. "Really?"

"Okay, maybe he hasn't been staring at you the whole time." Phoebe admitted. "Just the fair majority of it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Ugh... Just go home you two. You've made enough trouble for one day."

Mariam laughed. "And miss watching you and nerd-boy? No thank you! I'll stay right here and watch all the drama unfold."

Drama? The nerve of her! "He has a girlfriend for crying out loud!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, every person within a ten foot radius fell silent and turned to look at her. Suddenly, she realized she'd been yelling. An embarrassed blush suffusing her face, she barely managed to mutter, "Just go home, you two." before purposely heading off to the opposite side of the rubbish pile and burying herself in work.

The rest of that day Gracie had spent sifting through the dirt pile at the dig site, chatting with Tundra, Silver, Diana, and all these tourist people that she'd never met before. Upon finding her reason for being in Egypt, many of the strangers came to chat with her, saying this thing or that which was either insignificant or blatantly false. They talked about all the things they knew- or thought they knew- about Egypt. About how the Egyptian clothes the locals wore were so beautiful and how they couldn't believe that people really rode camels or that the Pharaoh must be really angry if he's unleashed a plague of locusts on the town.

But she was used to people like this: people who pretended to know what they were talking about in a cheap ploy to try to earn themselves a feature in the article and five minutes of fame. She did her usual, playing alone with the, and pretending to be in fact very in engrossed in what they were saying, while, in her own mind, she was secretly berating them. Some people just didn't give it a break, like one gentleman in particular.



She'd been in one of her few moments of solitude when suddenly a shadow fell across her, blotting out the sun she was working by. She peered up to see a tall young man who was rather sharply dressed considering they were in the midst of a bug infestation in the middle of the desert. "Can I help you?" she asked, brushing some of the dirt from her hands.

He shrugged his shoulders, ocean blue eyes smoldering in a very convincing attempt at charm. But it wasn't enough. She'd faced enough people in her line of work not to be won by flattery. "Just to ask a few questions. You are the author, aren't you?" His voice was vaguely British.

"I'm not an author. I'm more or what you'd call a journalist." she replied. She didn't particularly like having to look up at him. She'd rather stand up so she could look at him more levelly, but she wouldn't abandon her work.

As if sensing this, he knelt down beside her. "What's a writer doing digging around in the dirt?" he asked, sounding mildly curious and skeptical.

"Research." she said. "It's kind of something you have to do before writing an informative article."

He nodded in understanding. "I'd know about research. I've done a lot of it for roles. You see, I'm an actor. I'm kind of a big deal back at home."

She could already feel the smugness and the rambling about nonsense coming from a mile away. He didn't want to talk to her because she was her. He probably wanted to talk to her for the same reason anyone else did: a few minutes of publicity in an article, which would boost his acting career, which probably wasn't as prosperous as he made it sound. "Uh-huh." she said, trying not to sound too disinterested. "So what's a classy British actor doing digging in the dirt?"

"In case you haven' t noticed," he said. "I'm not digging in the dirt."

She grabbed a trowel sitting by her side. "Then why don't you start and make yourself useful?" She held the tool out in his direction. "We don't get any closer to fixing this curse while you stand here talking to me."

He grabbed the trowel and started digging right beside her, quite deliberately invading her personal space. "So, you believe in the curse then?"

"I believe there's a swarm of scarabs wreaking havoc on this town, and that's substantial evidence to me."

"I thought they were locusts."

She couldn't help it- she laughed. Locusts? He was just like the others! Next thing she knew, he was probably going to be talking about Egyptian cotton clothing and camels and angry pharaohs and mummies wrapped in toilet paper! In that instant, he was classified into the blur of faces in her memory bank labeled as 'crazy tourists', never to redeem himself from that dark place.

He scowled a little bit, tainting his handsome features. "Did I say something funny?"

She sighed, trying not to laugh any more. "Oh, nothing. Nothing..."

He remained with her for almost the rest of the day, pestering her with this comment or that. He would be charming, she thought, if he talked about something with substance! Something that wasn't about how beautiful the sandy dunes were or the kindness of the locals. She was surrounded by Egypt! She knew about all of those things! Say something that means something! she thought in desperation. Because you're losing me fast.

She didn't find any form of solitude until she reached her room after dark - when the search had finally ended for the day. She shut the door behind her, slumping against it in exhaustion. Even though she'd napped for a few hours earlier, she was too tired to think straight. She glanced in the mirror at herself as she passed and found herself a mess. Scarlet sunburn covered every inch of her that was exposed to the sun. Her hair was in tangles. Even her face reeked of exhaustion. Hesitating no longer, she switched out of her clothes and fell into bed.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

She woke up with a groaned, jarred from her sleep by the sound of a telephone. She blinked, yawning. There was dim sunlight coming into the room through the windows, though it was still largely dark out. She checked the clock. 2:19.

Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing. Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.

Once she came fully into awareness, she was swept up in a deluge of de ja vu as she remembered a time much like this only about twenty four hours ago. This thought jarred her into leaping out of bed and picking up the hotel phone on the bedside table.

"Hello?"

"Gracie! Great! You picked up! I didn't think you would!"

Another wave of de ja vu hit her. "Tundra?" she asked. It certainly was him, though he didn't quite sound like he was on the verge of a panic attack this time. That was certainly something to be celebrated.

"Can you come in to the pit? I've found something big on the papyrus scroll with the hieroglyphs. You know, the one we think is a story? It turns out to be a story after all!"

Excitement and intrigue bubbled up within her. It was a story? What kind of story? The possibilities buzzed in her head like bees in a beehive. Murder, betrayal, greed, grave-robbers, suicide... all of the potential stories were a dizzying whirlpool of 'what if?' "What's it about?" she asked.

"Come here and I'll tell you."

"Do you think Archie will be mad if I show up at the pit after I was so angrily kicked off of the investigation?"

"Probably. Why? You care?"

"Yeah. I want to make him as peeved with me as possible. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

True to her word, she was in the pit even before she said she'd be, showing up in a record time of eighteen minutes. Upon her arrival, the pit was entirely abandoned except for Tundra, who sat with the papyrus sheets scattered like fallen leaves on his desk. His back was turned to her.

"Tundra?" She crossed the pit, but he didn't seem to notice her. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Tundra!"

He whirled, looking more or less like a total wreck. His tired eyelids drooped over his eyes, which had a more melting-ice look, but lingering in his expression there was a wild flicker of excitement. In his shaking hand, he held a half-full cup of coffee. "Oh, hey, Gracie," he said, "I'm surprised you came."

"Of course I came. You called at 2:30 in the morning, why wouldn't I come?" she perched on a stool next to his desk, "So, what did you find?"

"I found the identity of our mummy Queen," he said, eyes glimmering, "And the real reason her legacy was expunged from all records."

Anticipation stirred in her stomach. She leaned forward on her chair. "Tell me," she said eagerly.

Word by word, line by tedious line, he translated the story for Gracie as best he could decipher it from the scrolls. She listened with rapt attention, drinking in the delicious tale like a parched desert traveler offered a glass of cool water. When he was finished, he took another drink of coffee.

"So, Miss Penbrooke, do you think you can weave a better retelling of that?" he said, goading her to try.

She smiled devilishly. "You're fighting a losing battle, Mr. Mathers," she said, impersonating his tone, "Now, let me tell the story as it should truly be told."

He shrugged. "Be my guest."

She leaned across the table at him, "There was," she said, "A queen that Egypt never again dared to speak of after her treachery. However, those who did whisper it in hushed breaths among themselves referred to her as Cleocatra. In her prime, she was cold, proud, and fierce. The only sovereign female of Egypt that history had ever laid eyes upon, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Cruel and unrelenting, to question her, or even to look her in the eye, was to evoke her wrath."

She paused, noticing that tundra was hung up on her every word. Careful not to smile, she continued, "Only one person in the world could soften her edge, could bring her down to earth, could capture her thorn-twined heart - and he was the only one forbidden to her. As an emperor of the Roman Empire, it would be madness for them to even glance at each other in the public eye. But behind closed doors, they did much more than glance at each other. No, they were in love. Their affair, as lustful, fleeting, and secretive as it was, brought the Queen more pleasure than any of the beautiful vices available in Egypt. That is, until she was caught.

"Of course, she was caught, and as all clandestine love affairs tend to do, it came to a tragic end. Cleocatra ended her own life only shortly before she could be executed as a traitor. Afterward, her body was stowed in the depths of a pyramid, which would be left to sit in the endless expanses of the desert and never be seen again. Not that anyone wanted to see it, for the Queen cast a curse before she died - that any who should disturb her eternal rest would die a thousand horrid deaths. Due to this, the Egyptians were glad to avoid the area, but the Queen's lover remained unaware. In fact, he continued his life rather normally, and, to show his complete lack of loyalty to the Queen, he sent his men to loot her grave. Upon entering, the men were killed and cursed. Cursed to roam the Queen's halls forever, as her loyal guardians. Once the local villagers heard about it, they vacated the area near the pyramid, leaving to find a land that remained uncursed."

By the time she reached the end of the story, her voice was barely above a hoarse whisper. "And that is the story of our dearly departed Queen Cleocatra."

His eyes were trained on her face, suddenly seeming more lucid despite his caffeine-induced haze. He breathed in slowly. "When you put it that way," he said, "That's one hell of a story."

A smile crept across her face. "It is." She reached out and grasped one of his hands, which shook uncontrollably. "Are you alright, Tundra?"

He shook his head, seeming to snap out of whatever daze he was in. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. And exactly how many cups of coffee have you had between now and your last powernap?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek. "Don't know. I can't remember when my last nap was."

"That's what I thought," she said, standing up. "Go home, Tundra. You've been running yourself ragged since who-knows-how-long? One ground-breaking discovery is enough for one night."

"I guess you have a point, Gracie." he conceded at last, "But could you do me a favor?"

"Of course. What?"

He gestured to some crates sitting next to Archie's desk. "Could you help me carry these to my house? Archie doesn't want them sitting in the open of the pit now that all of the tourists are hanging around. There's no where else to hide them."

"Fine," she said, picking up a box, which was surprisingly heavy, "But only because you asked. If Archie asked, I would've spit on him."

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't think you and Archie were on speaking terms."

"We aren't."

Walking off into the night, the two carried the boxes in relative silence that neither of them were inclined to fill. It was peaceful. The air of the desert night was cool against her skin, but oddly humid. There wasn't supposed to be humidity in the desert. The air normally remained dry. Bone dry.

She didn't quite piece it together until, drop by subtle drop, it started to rain.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Tundra exclaimed. They were barely halfway back to town.

"No, I don't think the weather is kidding," Gracie hastened, doubling her speed. "Not one bit."

The rain continued to fall, turning the top of the sand into an awful paste, causing them both to slip and fall almost three times each. When they finally got to their destination, she set the box down gracelessly in Tundra's front hallway. "Thank gods," she muttered, wringing out the end of her thin dress with one hand. It suddenly struck her that she was wearing white. Not a good color to get wet in.

Tundra set his own box on top of hers. "Sorry about that," he said, giving her an apologetic look. "I didn't think we were going to be rained on. That really doesn't happen here very often."

"It's fine," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "But I really should be getting home."

"No!" She gave him a wide-eyed look, and he quieted a little, "I mean, I'm not going to make you walk across town in this rain. You're free to stay here as long as you need to."

She glanced cautiously from him to the door, appraising the situation. "I'm not sure," she said, "Sure, it's a bit of a walk, but it's only rain, and I'm soaked as it is. Besides, I need to get home and change out of these clothes anyway-"

"You're free to borrow something of mine, at least for the night," he said, "If the rain doesn't let up soon, you can stay on the couch. It's quite comfortable. Besides, you have a habit of making yourself at home no matter where you are."

"A- Alright then."

As she dismissed herself to his closet-sized bathroom to change into a flannel shirt and shorts that smelled faintly of Tundra, she marveled at the oddity of her situation. And tried not to overthink it. He's just being nice, she told herself as she hung her dress up to dry, He doesn't want you to stay here for any other reason. He likes Kit too much for anything else.

Still, her feelings remained ominously mixed. Despite herself, her imagination wandered. Where exactly was the night going?

When she emerged, Tundra handed her a folded up blanket. "Good night, Gracie," he said.

She took it in her hand, studying him silently for a moment, searching his face for something. Anything. She wasn't sure what she wanted to find there. He stared back, his expression giving nothing away. Nothing. But she knew he was searching her eyes. She could sense it. For what, she wasn't sure.

She was the one to finally move. Leaning in, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tundra," she said. "Good night."

He looked at her for a moment, wordless. Then, he disappeared, retreating to his room in the dark. Gracie herself curled up on the couch. His face was the last think she thought of as she fell into a welcome sleep.