Ramses and David exchanged grins as the few tourists idling in the shop stampeded for the door. The proprietor mumbled under his breath as he searched behind the counter for a bag and reluctantly produced one. Ramses demanded to know how much he had paid for the forgery.

“It is yours. I want nothing to do with it—what I paid does not matter. Just take it, Brother of Demons.”

“Then I will pay for the scruffy bag,” Ramses said, dropping a few coins on the counter. “Had this been the original, I would have had you arrested for dealing in stolen antiquities. That is, as you must know, illegal.”

Latif insisted on carrying the bag as they left the shop. “Now we go to the warehouse, yes? If someone attempts to attack us, I will kick him so hard that he will howl from pain.”

David flagged down another carriage. “You will have to give the driver directions, Latif. Once we have identified the warehouse, you must remain in the carriage and take this bag to my cousin’s apartment. I will write down the address for you.”

The carriage wound through increasingly bleak and narrow streets as Latif gleefully shouted instructions. After a quarter of an hour, he told the driver to halt. “This is where I stopped. The building is just around the corner. I want to come with you, Brother of Demons! I am small, but I am strong and quick.”

“Yes, you are,” Ramses said gravely, “but you have an important assignment, which is to take this bag to a place where it will be secure. Here is some money if you have to pay anyone to store it, and the rest is for you.” He handed a handful of coins to the boy. “I am sure we shall meet again, Latif. Show the address to the driver and keep your head down.” To the carriage driver, he said, “I will pay you now, but if you fail to take my prodigy to his destination, I will find you sooner or later to discuss the matter.”

“Aywa,” the driver said nervously. “I will do as the Brother of Demons requests.”

Latif sighed as he sank back against the cushion. Ramses and David exited the carriage, waited until it drove away, and went around the corner. The warehouse loomed in the darkness, but glimmers of light escaped through the boarded windows. As they approached, they could hear steady clinks, indicative of chisels on limestone. They moved stealthily to the nearest window to peer into the interior. The only furnishings in the vast room were a long table and half a dozen stools.

“I see Harun, that bloody bastard,” said Ramses, “and three apprentices. What I do not see is the bust of Nefertiti.”