Christian nodded and tilted the aircraft in that direction.
Below their skids, they swept over a village of mud-brick houses that had stood for nine hundred years, some continuously occupied. Erin tried to imagine living in the same house, generation after generation. Her current university apartment was younger than she was. It certainly did not have the breathtaking accretion of history that surrounded her now.
Then again, more than anywhere, Egypt held a sense of timelessness and mystery, a land of grand kingdoms and fallen dynasties, home to a multitude of gods and heroes. She touched the piece of amber in her pocket, remembering Amy’s fascination with this country’s history. Like every archaeologist, Amy had wanted to someday oversee a dig in Egypt, to make her mark here.
But unfortunately for Amy, that someday would never come.
Erin kept a hold on Tommy’s shoulder as the helicopter banked for a turn past the temple ruins.
Never again, she promised.
The temple swelled before her. The walls were tumbled, the roofs gone, and the rooms open to the ashen sky. Even in its current state, a hint of its original grandeur remained. Had the woman seated across from her really lived within those stone walls and determined the fate of the world with her prophecies? Had she convinced Alexander the Great that he could conquer the world? Had she met Cleopatra when she bathed in these waters? If so, what had she told the queen?
Erin had a thousand questions, but they would all have to wait.
Christian skimmed past the ruins and out toward a section of the outlying desert.
Where was Arella taking them?
The woman continued to navigate for Christian, her back to them.
Rhun gave Erin a puzzled look, just as confused, but she shrugged. They had come this far based upon the word of this angelic woman. It was too late to distrust her now.
The helicopter skirted past the occasional broken hill and flew over undulating dunes of sand. Overhead, the sky continued to grow a deeper gray as the ash cloud moved farther upon them.
Finally, the helicopter began to lower. Erin searched for any landmarks, but it appeared they were picking a random stretch of dunes on which to land. Their rotors tore ribbons of sand from the closest ridges.
The pitch of the engines changed, and the helicopter hovered in place.
But why here?
Jordan sounded no happier. “Looks like the hundreds of miles of desert we’ve already flown over.”
Erin was tempted to agree with him, but then her eyes began to detect subtle differences. The closest ridge of dunes did not follow the pattern of the surrounding desert. She glanced out both windows to confirm it. The ridge curved completely around, to form a circle, framing a giant bowl a hundred feet across and about twenty deep.
“Looks like a crater,” Erin said, pointing Jordan to the raised lip all around.
“Another volcano?” Jordan asked.
“I think it might be a meteor strike.”
Erin looked to Arella for an answer, but the woman simply directed Christian down.
A moment later the skids touched the sand. The helicopter came to a rest, canted slightly at an angle inside the bowl, not far from the center. Christian kept the rotors turning, as if deliberately blowing sand from the crater.
That’s one way to excavate.
Golden-tan sand whirled in the wash of the rotors, momentarily blinding them.
Then the engines finally stopped, the rotors slowing. After so many hours of constant droning, the silence rushed over her like a wave. The blown-up sand settled, pattering to the ground like a golden rain.
Arella finally faced them again, placing a hand on Christian’s shoulder, thanking him. “We may go now.”
Rhun cracked open the door and hopped out first. He held them back, ever wary, which Erin knew was well warranted.
“There is nothing to fear here,” Arella assured them.
After Rhun confirmed this with an all-clear, the woman climbed out next, followed by Erin.
Once on her feet, Erin stretched, drawing in a deep breath, sucking the dryness deep into her lungs, smelling the rocky scent of pure desert. She let herself bask for a moment in the heat. Sand meant the luxury of time at excavations—hours spent in the sun digging to free secrets long buried from the patient grains that had concealed them.
She didn’t have that luxury now.
She squinted at the sun. This late in winter, it would set at five o’clock, less than three hours from now. She recalled Bernard’s warning about the gates of Hell opening, but she pushed such fears aside for now.
Tommy certainly did not have even those three hours.
She turned as Jordan’s boots hit the sand next to her, helping Christian carry Tommy’s body into the desert, into this strange crater.
“Where are we?” Christian asked, his eyes narrowing in the sunlight, even though it was dimmed by ash to a harsh glare.