The dark haired man stood at the desk wrapping the golden book in many layers of cloth that seemed to suddenly appear from his pocket. As he wrapped he muttered in a tonal language that Clarke had sworn she'd heard before, but most of her attention was being held by the tall irritating man in front of her.
"He's taking the book back to where it rightfully belongs, and you can't stop him."
"Its part of MY exhibit." Clarke frowned.
"But it wasn't accounted for." Alex pointed out. That was the first thing she had rechecked after getting back to the museum. And they were right. The golden book was not listed on her invoices.
"I can't believe you're so superstitious about this! Alex!" She winced as she recognized the whine in her own voice. She did not whine, she was firmly set against it.
"I am only taking a sensible precaution." he rubbed his wrist gently, remembering the time a heavy golden bracelet sat there, sapping his strength as he ran for the temple before the sun could get to it first…
"You're not taking this!" Clarke snapped the key from the table and held it over and behind her head. Alex rolled his eyes and sighed. The key didn't matter, it was useless by itself. Besides, if he really wanted it all he would have to do is lean forward and pluck it from her hand. He was much taller than her. As if realizing that her stance was a tad idiotic, she stuffed it into her pocket instead. Alex took a second to appreciate the fact that the maneuver wouldn't have held him any longer than holding over her head had.
"Fine. Keep the damn thing." he whirled on his heel, as if to check on Mali's progress.
"You lied."
"What?" he turned back at the challenge. Her eyes glinted in the harsh conservatory lights.
"The gold book doesn't bring people to life." Clarke shrugged, "you said you brought your mother back to life using the golden book."
"You're right." Alex winced as he recalled the inky black of the covered book he'd read. Clarke smiled smugly.
"See. Told you I knew what I was talking about."
"I'm sorry, I got a little anxious. I jumped to conclusions and remembered facts incorrectly." Alex shrugged, like his father he had an easy way of dealing with sarcastic, self-righteous, know-it-all women. He simply picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carted her out of the room. He didn't know how much Mali knew, and he wasn't willing to trust him just then on only his own word that he was related to his fathers friend. It was true that they hadn't seen each other in a while, but he would think he would merit the friendship to know when his son had passed the trials every Medji took to become part of the sacred group. Ardeth and Rick O'Connell loved to one-up each other, even if only through their children.
"Put me down this instant!" she screamed as he dumped her into a couch in her office. She blinked and looked up at him with disapproval written clearly on her face.
"It was the black book I used to bring my mother back. I had forgotten that in the rush to explain to you how important it is to keep those books in the right hands. Hands meant to protect it, not use it."
"Right. Using it would be reading it. And reading is a harmless past time Alex…" she trailed off as Alex's eyes shifted to the doorway. It creaked open by itself, a gentle breeze came from the closed in hallway. "Alex…"
"Please don't tell me…" Alex shifted Clarke so that she was standing behind him, and for once she kept her mouth shut as she gripped his leather jacket tightly. The breeze had brought a scent she'd recognized from the other day. Blood and decay. "I really should have called my father back." Alex muttered suddenly realizing that if what he thought was happening really was, then the Egyptian wing of a Museum was probably not the best place to be in.
"Why? What has he to do with any of this?" Clarke followed Alex slowly as he stalked toward the open door, and the faint scuffling sound that echoed down the marble hallway.
"Well, I would know for sure who was sent to protect the book. I'm such a moron I let you distract me from its protection once someone more qualified showed up. I shouldn't have done that." He held a hand out to keep her in the room as she peaked his head out the doorway. He swore violently under his breath and once again wished his father would show up, guns blazing.
The thought held him for about a second, then he turned back into the office and shoved Clarke in front of him. Not saying a word he shoved her under her own desk, ignoring her protests. She swore creatively, he could give her that much credit.
"I don't think my head would fit up there, but after this is over you're welcome to try." He opened the drawers of her desk and wondered how anyone who was so irritating could be so messy. "Don't you have a lighter, or a dagger, or…" he flung his head around looking for anything. Then kicked himself mentally as he realized that she had several weapons mounted to the walls in a creative, yet functional manner. He ignored her protests as he ripped a long, curved sword from its brackets.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Trust me. They're slow right now, but once they catch sight of us, they'll get faster." He ripped a spear from its holder and shoved it into her hands. "Do you know how to fight?"
"Yes." Alex nodded, trusting that she could take care of herself until she proved otherwise. He would never think to contradict her simple statement just because she was a tiny girl… his mother would kill him.
"Then get ready." the scuffling sound had gotten louder in the interval, "because we need to get out of here, go back to the display room, grab the book and Mali," he was working under the hopeful assumption that the boy had nothing to do with the sudden rising, but was not blinded by the fact that it could be the other way around. "And hopefully we can do something to stop it early this time."