Thank you for reading!

The prisoner was dragged back into his cell by the guards, still struggling. Evelyn, still somewhat dazed from that kiss, took a moment to remember that she had come here to find out from him how to get to Hamunaptra. "Where are they taking him?" she demanded of the warden, who had just returned to them.

"To be hanged. Apparently, he had a very good time."

"Hanged?"

"Yes. You may stay and watch, if you like."

Evelyn was at a loss. How exactly was she supposed to free this filthy barbarian—with, admittedly, very striking blue eyes—from prison when he was about to be hanged? But she had to, or none of her dreams of being an explorer would ever come true. She felt certain of that somehow. "Yes," she said with sudden decision. "I will stay to watch."

The warden eyed her with a sudden avaricious gleam in his eye that she didn't like at all.

"I say, Evie, are you certain this is a good idea?" Jonathan asked, rubbing his jaw.

"I'm open to other suggestions if you have them."

As she had expected, he didn't. He also professed to being too squeamish to watch a hanging, and begged off. Evelyn was fine with that—whatever she came up with, she didn't think she needed her big brother trying to meddle with her plan. Jonathan meant well, but he often over-complicated things.

She sat next to the warden, watching as the prisoner was led up to the gallows. He was quite tall, she noticed. And well-built. And his kiss …

Evelyn shook herself. Now was not the time for reliving that moment. Nor would there ever be a time for that, she told herself more firmly. This filthy, rude, horrible man was her ticket to Hamunaptra, nothing more.

She turned to the warden. "I will give you one hundred pounds to save this man's life."

The offer didn't move him at all. "Madam, I would pay one hundred pounds just to see him hanged."

"Two! Two hundred pounds."

He didn't even glance at her. "Proceed."

"Three hundred pounds!" That number was ridiculously high, but could you put a price on your future?

Rick looked up at the warden, seeing the pretty lady from before sitting next to him. Was she actually so desperate to get to Hamunaptra that she was really trying to get him set free? Well, if so, he wished to hell she would hurry up about it. The noose was being tightened around his neck even as he stood here.

"Any last requests, pig?" the hangman asked.

"Yeah. Loosen the knot and let me go."

The hangman turned to the warden and called across to him in Arabic, repeating the request.

"Of course we don't let him go!" the warden shouted back.

The hanged man smacked Rick in the back of the head and moved toward the lever that would open the trapdoor and end a wasted but fairly enjoyable life.

Evelyn tried one more time. "Five hundred pounds!"

That caught the warden's attention. He called to the hangman to wait. "And what else? I'm a very lonely man." He put a hand on Evelyn's knee.

Without thinking, she smacked his hand smartly with her book. When all the spectators burst into laughter, she realized to her chagrin that she had just signed the prisoner's death warrant.

The warden called out in Arabic and Evelyn rose to her feet, shouting out "No!" even as the lever was dropped.

Rick would have shouted, too, but he was holding his breath even as the floor gave way beneath him and his body fell through. The noose caught him painfully, cutting off his air … but he was still alive, dangling there in midair, trying to conserve what little breath he had, hoping something, anything, would happen before he strangled to death.

"Ah-ha!" the warden crowed. "His neck did not break!" He turned to Evelyn. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Now we must watch him strangle to death."

All the spectators were shouting now, enjoying the sight of this man's death in front of them.

Evelyn had really wanted to avoid playing the last card—leaving it until perhaps a bit too late, really. But now there was little choice left. He was going to die, and soon, if she didn't do something desperate. Turning to the warden, she said rapidly, "He knows the location to Hamunaptra."

He turned to her, studying her. "You lie."

"I would never!" she cried, shocked.

"Are you telling me this filthy, godless, son of a pig knows where to find the City of the Dead?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"Yes. And if you cut him down, we will give you—" She really didn't want to share the treasure with this disgusting warden. Glancing at the prisoner, she saw he was still struggling, but feebly now. There wasn't much time. "Ten percent."

"Fifty percent."

"Twenty."

"Forty."

"Thirty."

Caught by the rhythm of the haggling, the warden said, "Twenty-five."

Evelyn beamed in triumph. "Ah! Deal."

He realized what he had said too late and grimaced, but accepted the decision, calling out, "Cut him down!"

The hangman drew a cutlass and hacked through the rope.

Rick felt himself falling, and he landed on the ground with a painful thud, lying there trying to breathe, the noose still tight around his neck. After a moment, hands were roughly yanking it off him and the pressure on his windpipe eased. He drew in grateful gulps of the fetid air, feebly turning to look up into the gallery, where the woman was standing, looking cool and clean and collected—and triumphant.

So. It was back to Hamunaptra. He supposed that was better than dying.

Once he was back on his feet, Rick was handed the rough bundle of his personal effects. Most of it wasn't worth anything, but he was glad to have the leather cuff he wore over the tattoo on his right wrist back. It had been part of him for too long to feel right without it now.

"So." The woman was standing in front of him. "I got you out of here, as you requested. Now you will take us to Hamunaptra?"

"Right now?" He should thank her, but he felt awkward about it. And he really didn't want to go back there.

"Once we've put our supplies together. And I assume you'll want to—" Her eyes, dark and beautiful, swept him up and down. "Get cleaned up?"

He actually did want to, not that he was about to admit it. "Uh-huh."

"So we'll meet you on the docks at say, noon, two days from now."

"Yeah. Sure." As she turned away, Rick realized there was something that he still needed to know. "Hey. What's your name?"

"Evelyn. Evelyn Carnahan."

"I'm Rick O'Connell."

"Mr. O'Connell."

"Miss Carnahan."

And she was gone, leaving him standing there wondering what the hell he had just gotten himself into.