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Chapters (52)
  1. Title
  2. Copyright
  3. About the Book
  4. About the Author
  5. Also By
  6. Contents
  7. Dedication
  8. Roll Call
  9. A Brief History of the Time Wars
  10. Jane
  11. Luke
  12. Matthew
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 8
  21. 9
  22. 10
  23. 11
  24. 12
  25. 13
  26. 14
  27. 15
  28. 16
  29. 17
  30. 18
  31. 19
  32. 20
  33. 21
  34. 22
  35. 23
  36. 24
  37. 25
  38. 26
  39. 27
  40. 28
  41. 29
  42. 30
  43. 31
  44. 32
  45. 33
  46. 34
  47. 35
  48. 36
  49. 37
  50. Epilogue
  51. Author’s Note
  52. A Note on Recruitment

She drew a sharp breath. Her brain screamed at her to run but her legs weren’t listening. She stared at the black-faced jackal and the black-faced jackal stared right back again. There was no sound except her heavy breathing. And then she took in the blank-faced stare. The unblinking eyes.

It was a statue.

Relief flooded through her. Her legs weakened for a moment. It was a statue of Anubis, carefully placed at the entrance to the treasury to watch over the king as he slept and guard his treasures.

She leaned against the wall, waiting for her heartbeat to return to something like normal and then lifted her lightstick. The chamber was empty. Well, no, not empty, it was full of yet more priceless treasures, but for her purposes it was empty. And now she could truthfully report she’d checked every single chamber in the tomb and every single one was clear. Luke had been right. She’d been given a job to do and she’d done it. She would be able to look Grint and all the others in the eye after all.

‘Because,’ she said to the black-faced Lord of the Underworld, and her voice hardly trembled at all, ‘I’m the Time Police and I am an utter bastard and don’t you forget it.’

‘Lockland, who are you talking to?’

‘Everyone,’ she said, and meant it.

‘Well, utter bastard, if everything’s clear, then you might as well return to the antechamber and make yourself comfortable while we await the return of all the other utter bastards.’

His words reassured her and she withdrew her head, climbed up out of the burial chamber back into the antechamber, pulled out a probably priceless chest and made herself comfortable against the wall.

She’d done it. She’d checked and secured the tomb. She’d conquered her fears. She leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment. Exhaling, she slowly began to relax. ‘Do you think Matthew will be all right?’

‘Oh, yeah. Grint will keep an eye on him. He’ll be fine.’

Behind her – in the burial chamber – something flickered.

10

10

Matthew, however, was far from fine. He was crouched, ­glowering and resentful, behind Grint and Anders as they peered down the slope into a rock-strewn basin some twenty feet below them. It had been made very clear to him that he was more than superfluous to requirements.