‘I – I’m fine,’ she stammered.

‘What happened?’ demanded Wu.

‘I’m still trying to figure that out!’ She took a moment to compose her thoughts. ‘Okay. When I touched the key, I felt the flow of earth energy – qi, you called it. I was trying to direct it so I could open the sarcophagus when . . . when I felt the person inside it. He’s still alive. He’s conscious.’

Shock from the observers. Dr Hui wore a headset of her own, her voice coming through the earpiece. ‘That is not possible. How can he still be conscious?’

‘I don’t mean he’s fully awake and aware of what’s going on,’ said Nina. ‘But there’s . . . a spark, some part of him that’s still active.’ The implications hit her. ‘My God. He’s been in there for over a hundred thousand years – and at some level, he’s been conscious all that time. What the hell will that have done to his mind?’

‘We will find out soon,’ said Wu without sympathy. ‘Go back to the key. You have wasted enough time – open the sarcophagus.’

‘All right, but you can pay for the guy’s shrink.’

Now prepared, she placed her hand back on the key. Her external perception fell away as an inner eye reopened. The energy flow surrounded her again. She concentrated upon the coffin. Again she made contact with the spark of life inside. But this time she forced herself past it, searching for some other mental handhold. The Turkish vault had had a way to stabilise the spearhead once it was triggered; there had to be something similar here . . .

There was. The lines of power flowed together, concentrating in one particular place. She fixed her mind upon it. She didn’t know how to manipulate it, only that she could—

That was enough.

Her will shaped the phantom world – and something changed, the lines reconfiguring. The jolt of transition was enough to make her release the key in surprise. Reality snapped back around her, leaving her momentarily confused – then she hurriedly retreated as a low thud came from within the sarcophagus.

The crystal lid began to open.

Yellow gas swirled through the slowly widening crack – and alarms sounded, the isolation chamber’s sensors detecting the poison. The dirty mustard-coloured miasma rolled across the room after Nina. ‘Okay, you can let me out now,’ she said, reaching the door. ‘Seriously, I’m done here!’

The exit remained closed. ‘The ventilation filters will quickly clear the air,’ Wu told her as powerful fans started to thrum.

‘That’s great – unless this stuff kills me on contact!’ She flattened herself into the furthest corner, watching with growing fear as the expanding cloud came closer . . . then began to rise, swirling into a vortex as the extractors drew it upwards. In seconds, the escaping gas became a yellow tornado as it was sucked from the still-opening sarcophagus.