Thank you for reading!

Evelyn had wasted precious minutes banging on the door, screaming at O'Connell and demanding that he let her out before it occurred to her that a man as decisive as that hadn't waited to see what her reaction would be. She shifted then to Mr. Daniels and Mr. Henderson, asking them nicely, begging, even. It went against the grain to beg—but it also went against the grain to be locked up here in her room like some fragile piece of china while other people fought the battle she had begun.

Still, it didn't matter, because their responses came faintly through the doors: hems and haws, awkward clearings of the throats, "Well, little lady …" No help was coming to her from those misguided American men who thought they were saving her from something that might horrify her.

Too late. She was already horrified. She was also responsible, and she had to be the one out there making things right.

She attacked the door with whatever tools were handy, but there was nothing that could get through the wood. Evelyn resolved that from now on, every room she spent time in would have a cache of weapons and tools. She would not be left locked in and helpless again.

Withdrawing from the doors, she sat down on her bed to contemplate her next move. Sitting down reminded her that it was somewhat chilly in the room, what with the eclipse blocking out the warmth of the sun, so she pulled up the covers.

At some point, she had wiggled down so that her head rested on the pillow. It had been a long few days with very little sleep, and before she knew it, she was yawning. Her brain felt as though it was still working on the problem of how to get out of here, when the door opened and O'Connell appeared. Strangely, she wasn't angry with him any longer. Instead—instead she was excited to see him here, warmed to her toes in a way that was new and exciting.

He smiled, that lopsided smile that set her heart racing, and he came toward her, putting a knee on the bed. Some part of Evelyn protested—it wasn't at all seemly to have a man in her room, much less one actually on her bed—but the rest of her welcomed him, putting up her arms and lifting her face for his kiss.

He was so close she could smell him. A familiar musty scent. Tombs. And … decay.

Evelyn's eyes flew open, the dream dissipating. The creature was here! It was him on her bed—and he was kissing her!

No sooner had she realized what was happening and started shrieking, her cries muffled by the half-decayed face of the monster she had awakened, than the doors of her room flew open.

O'Connell's voice shouted, "Hey! Get your ugly face off of her!"

She'd never heard anything quite so nice in all her life. The creature sat up, turning its face toward O'Connell, and Evelyn scrambled back off the bed, away from the monster. He looked almost like a man. He must be nearly fully regenerated.

The idea of what might have happened while she lay there helpless and asleep terrified her. Evelyn made a mental note to keep a weapon by her bed at all times from now on. Just in case. If she was going to be an adventurer, she was going to have to be prepared for her adventures to follow her home.

The mummy spoke, but she missed the words in the process of diving off the bed.

"Look what I got," O'Connell said, and she heard her cat hiss.

Evelyn looked up just in time to see the monster back away from the cat, whirl itself around, turn into sand, and blow out the window, which shut behind it.

When it was gone, and the room was quiet again, not so much as a grain of sand left behind to show what had been here, she lifted herself up off the floor and looked at O'Connell. She wanted to say something tart about never leaving her locked in a room again, or something appreciative about being rescued just in time, but all she could do was sigh in relief.

"You all right?" O'Connell asked.

"Well, I'm not sure …" Jonathan clutched at his heart as Evelyn and O'Connell both turned to look at him, rolling their eyes. "No, I'm quite all right," he decided hastily.

"As am I," Evelyn said, getting to her feet, her equilibrium restored. "I take it …"

"Mr. Henderson," O'Connell confirmed, moving aside so that she could see the desiccated body on the floor of her room. "We need to find Daniels."

"Why don't you go while I change?"

"No. Absolutely not. I'm not leaving you again." His voice cracked on the words. Then he cleared his throat. "I mean, we shouldn't separate. Not while that thing is still out there. And we need to hurry, before it gets to Daniels."

"All right." Evelyn grabbed a coat and threw it on over the dress she had bought at the oasis. It would have been nice to have changed into something more practical, but he was right, there was no time. She should have thought of that while she was locked in, she chided herself. From now on, she promised herself, her clothing would be practical and suitable to the life of an adventurer.

Until then … this would have to do. She joined Jonathan and O'Connell. Surely the three of them could defeat this creature, she thought, trying not to look at the body of poor Mr. Henderson, whom she had failed so utterly.