‘Behind me.’

‘He’s really not.’

‘He is.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Luke, I can see his shadow. On the floor. It’s long and black and it’s covering mine and I can’t get out. I won’t be able to get past him. What shall I do?’ She was gasping for breath. She couldn’t get enough air in this tiny room so far underground. Crushed by the weight of rock and sand above it, her chest heaved in panic.

‘Jane, listen to me. Turn around and face it. You’ll see there’s nothing there. It’s your imagination. I promise you.’

‘It’s not, Luke. It’s not.’

‘All right, all right, don’t get upset. I’m coming down.’

‘No. Stay away. I mean it.’

‘Where are you?’

‘In the antechamber. Facing the burial chamber. It’s behind me. Between me and the door.’

‘Snap all your lightsticks. You need lots of light to make the shadows disappear.’

‘And when they run out, I’ll be left in the dark.’

‘No. When the shadows disappear, they’ll take whatever it is with them. That’s when you make a run for the tunnel. I’ll be waiting up here. I’ll get you out.’

‘I can’t. I’m trapped.’

‘Jane, it’s OK. Deep breaths. It’s OK. I’m here. Now – turn around and tell me what you see.’

She fumbled for another lightstick and held it above her head. The room grew brighter. On three. One . . . two . . . Taking the recommended deep breaths, she turned, very, very slowly, expecting the worst at every moment.

There was nothing there.

Relief surged through her, to be swamped almost immediately by hot embarrassment at her own monumental stupidity in allowing her mind to play stupid tricks on her like this. Of course there was nothing there. How could there be? This wasn’t one of those holos where screaming nightdress-clad women fled lurching, bandage-wrapped mummies. And now she’d told Parrish, of all people. Mocking, sophisticated Parrish. She’d never hear the last of it. And there was nothing here. The whole thing was simply ridiculous superstition. Obviously, there was no curse. How could there be? Howard Carter, the man responsible for finding the tomb and first to enter it, had lived for many years afterwards. Sometimes she was so stupid . . .

The air moved again. Something that was at one and the same time very close to her and yet a long way off emitted a long, tired exhalation. Her entire body went rigid. Because it was behind her. It was still there. Somehow, it was still behind her. She knew then. There was no escape. No matter where she stood . . . No matter how fast she ran . . . or how far she ran . . . it would always be just behind her. It would stand behind her for the rest of her life.