He turned, his head tilted. “I cannot take you, and I cannot give you a driver or arrange one – it would be suicide for him…and most likely for me and my family.” He shrugged. “Already I risk my head just by having you here. I cannot take the chance of being seen to help Westerners.” Once again he waved his arm around at the piles of ancient manuscripts. “If any one of the more aggressive anti-Western militias finds out, they’ll burn everything, behead me, and then search for my relatives. Then they will come for you.” His eyebrows sagged on his forehead. “Everything would be lost. Truly, I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, Doctor Albadi. We’ll find a way across,” Matt said. “I know this was a huge risk to you and we greatly appreciate it. Your assistance has been immeasurable.” He turned to Abrams and raised his eyebrows, before slowly turning back to their host.

“Ah, Dr Albadi, is there anything we can do for you? As a simple gift of thanks for everything you have risked for us?”

Albadi stared for a moment, and then his head bobbed. “Well, yes; my daughter Sabeen is studying economics at Princeton University. She worries about me and wants to come home. She must not. If you could just…keep her there, at least until the country here stabilizes.”

Abrams nodded.

“Of course. She will be safe. You have our word,” Matt said.

“Good.” Albadi closed his eyes and swallowed. “Professor Kearns. I do have an SUV you can take; it is rigged for desert driving, so will suit your requirements. I can give you supplies, and I can also give you directions. But the rest must be up to you.”

“Thank you,” Matt said.

Tania grunted, and looked from Albadi to the map once again. “Dr Albadi, is there anything else you can tell us about the Book, or Abdul Alhazred, or the library? Anything and everything is important now.”

The doctor seemed to think a moment more, and then turned back to the table and the ancient tome’s pages. He leaned over it, sighing. “Much of Alhazred’s work was crazed, nonsensical – it is why he was called the Mad Arab. For many centuries, scholars who read the copies assumed it was all mad scribbling – now, current events mean we know better. Most of his essays, writings and poems have turned out to be truly prophetic. The man was given over to bouts of dark poetry, and perhaps…” He started to turn pages quickly, and then stopped and looked up at Matt.

“If you find the original Al Azif, it will be you who translates it, yes?”

Matt nodded. “When we find it.”

“Then you must steel yourself. As I mentioned, the act of reading the original work is dangerous. It was said to drive men to suicide, make them sick, and even invite the attention of the Old One in their dreams. There is only one way to prepare – read here, and start to absorb the words.” Albadi kept one finger on a page. “Alhazred gives us a clue as to what to expect in your journey. Read it, Professor.”