“What did you do, Cade?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.

“I…”

A rumble of shifting rock from the stairs turned their heads. Voices called from beyond the rubble, and Cade could see the orange glow of torches. It looked like the slavers had found light.

“Hurry,” Cade said. “We’re almost out of time.”

CHAPTER

51

Cade ran into Alexander’s tomb, his three legionaries close behind, and took in the sight of the strange place in a few hurried glances.

This tomb had also been buried in Egypt. Alexandria to be exact, named for and founded by the very man whose grave he was about to rob.

Still, the room was distinctly different from what Cade had expected, for it was a mess of conflicting cultures. The floors were covered in mosaics, rich in color despite the dust that coated them. Here, a curly haired man riding a horse was depicted, spear raised in defiance. Stranger still were the men he charged at: bearded soldiers riding chariots, and behind them, elephants.

These were the Persians and Indians whom Alexander had conquered, and Cade took some small pride in his heritage, knowing that it was in India that Alexander’s rampage across the world had finally been halted.

As in Imhotep’s tomb, the walls here were decorated in two-dimensional figures, but here the figures had hawks for heads, and hieroglyphics surrounded them. Clearly, Alexander’s tomb had begun its life as an Egyptian temple.

In the room’s very center lay a pale, smooth marble coffin, complete with engravings of Greek lettering.

And behind it, a naked man, youthful, contorted in an almost erotic pose, stood in white stone. It was a statue of the great man himself.

There was little in the way of treasure here. Cade knew that Alexander’s tomb had been a place of worship for many years, visited by pilgrims and tourists alike. Anything of value would have been long gone.

Still, few would have had the audacity to open the coffin itself, and Cade motioned with his hands for his men to remove its top.

The coffin lid crashed to the ground, and Cade lunged forward to see inside.

To Cade’s surprise, there was not one but two bodies within. One was covered with time-eroded rags and seemed to stare back at him through hollow sockets.

The other, fresher body was adorned with clothes intact, and so fresh that the remains of a bushy white beard could still be seen, even if the head was a half-mummified mess of skin and bone.

“What the hell is this…,” Cade breathed.

Abaddon had left him a surprise. Or at least, for whoever stumbled across this place. A further reward for the seeker’s curiosity.

The man’s clothing was formal. It almost looked like a tuxedo, with an upturned collar, gloves, even a top hat.

“Codex,” Cade breathed. “Who is this?”

“Remnant is William Cantelo, a gun inventor who disappeared in 1880. He claimed to have invented the first machine gun, and went missing along with his prototype from his home in Southampton, England. Four years later, Hiram Maxim invented the Maxim gun, and made a fortune from the patent during the First World War. So similar were the two men in appearance, some believed he and William Cantelo were the same man.”