** The horror slumbers buried under many meters of rubble and desert sand. Nameless cartouches, desecrated relics, and a sarcophagus containing an ancient riddle. **
"Ancient lands lost in time.
Storms of sand, walls of lime
Surround this mask of de...
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"Bad omen," Arabella grumbled, looking at her reflection in the hand-sized pocket mirror she had placed on the table.
Looking back at her from the surface, the reflection was more dissatisfied but cleaner than it had been a few minutes ago. Meanwhile, she washed and applied a little powder to reduce the shine of her fair skin. She had also tamed her long, honey-blonde hair into a rather pretty topknot at the nape of her neck. Only a few strands still fell around her slender features and framed her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were still slightly flushed from the excitement. A vast blue silk ribbon adorned her hair, matching the daffodil yellow wrap dress of light cotton. Against the sweltering heat, Arabella had draped a wide scarf around her shoulders. Finally, all that was missing to complete the look was her hat; then, she could dare to be around people again. As a young lady from London and a journalism student, she had always been advised and emphasized how important a neat appearance was for her future profession.
Arabella was used to moving among men, who - as in most professional fields - also dominated the field of journalism and photography. Restraint did not get her a good story or an interview. What was it that bothered the workers? Were they so superstitious that they immediately linked a woman and the landslide and blamed her? Sullenly, their lips twisted.
"Arabella?" came the voice of Mr. Thornten, interrupting the gloomy thoughts.
"I'll be with you in a moment!" Arabella rose a little more hastily than was necessary. When she stepped outside, Mr. Thornten waited patiently outside her tent, wiping some sweat from her brow with a cloth.
"Arabella, Miles!"
Hurried footsteps kicked up dust under her uncle's shoes as he quickly curved around one of the tents and approached them. Although the tragedy of the event still overshadowed his features, there was a strange expression on his features. A smirk hid at the corners of his mouth, and a flash traced the small wrinkles around his eyes more clearly. In his hands, he held out to them both what, at first glance, looked like a small, elongated stone. On second glance, however, a humanoid form revealed itself in the light-colored stone.
"An Uschebti!"
Arabella noticed Mr. Thornten tense noticeably beside her as he reached for the piece in her uncle's hands and carefully but hurriedly took it from his hands.
"Where ...?" the assistant asked, his voice sounding rough.
"Near the landslide," her uncle replied, and now the hint of a smile crept onto his lips, "The workers have cleared rubble aside and uncovered a stone-covered entrance." Her uncle struggled to contain his excitement at the find, and the sacrifice it had cost alone did not make him raise his voice louder.
"So you really have found a tomb!" Arabella, on the other hand, could hardly contain her excitement. Her heart somersaulted with excitement, and she stumbled ahead at a rapid sprint.
