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mummies stripped of their gold and jewels, their bones strewn about in sacrilege. “It’s been desecrated.”
    “And the crown’s been taken . . .” Resignedly, he spoke the terrible truth.
    “Father, look!” Alex was holding the lamp near the wall so she could study the hieroglyphics written there.
    Enoch came to her side and peered at the writings. “It’s just as we’ve always believed!” Enoch said, a note of awe in his tone. “These writings confirm everything! It’s all here! The story of the prince’s terrible death and the princess’s curse.”
    “Look at this, Papa.”
    Her voice was soft yet urgent and drew his attention. He turned to find her standing before the doorway they’d just entered. “The inscription over the entrance reads ‘Let only those who possess true love pass this way in peace.’ ” A shiver skittered down her spine as she spoke the words out loud.
    “It was true . . . all true.”
    They remained in the chamber late into the night, making detailed drawings of the remains. It was after midnight when they emerged.
    “If looters stole the crown and brought it out, why didn’t we hear of it?”
    “It could have been stolen centuries ago. There’s no way of knowing.”
    They stood among the ruins in silence, breathing in the fresh night air. The knowledge that the crown had been stolen and probably destroyed filled both father and daughter with a great sadness.
    “I don’t know how we’ll ever find it now.” Alex said with great weariness. Her disappointment ran deep. She’d felt so sure of finding the crown, and now there was nothing more she could do. They would finish working in the tomb, trying to salvage what could be saved, and then they would journey back to their home in Boston, empty-handed. Their dream of returning with the crown had been shattered.
    “There’s one important lesson you have yet to learn,” Enoch told her as they walked slowly through the night toward their tents. A full silver moon above lit their way.
    “What’s that, Papa?” She turned to face him in the moonlight, her expression serious as she tried to deal with her disappointment over their defeat.
    “Never give up your dreams.”

Two
    London, 1857
     
    Henry, Lawrence’s personal valet for over thirty years, had just started down the main hall toward the foyer when he heard the sound of angry voices coming from Mr. Anthony’s study. He stopped where he was, uncertain whether to continue on his way or turn a tactful retreat. He hadn’t intended to listen to the argument, but he couldn’t help hearing the loud voices.
    “We’re your sons! Your flesh and blood! What do you mean you’re going to cut us off?” Philip’s outraged words could be heard clearly in the hall.
    “You heard me, Philip. You, too, Robert.” Lawrence’s voice was strained. “You’ve spent every pound I’ve given you and then some. I refuse to play the indulgent fool any longer. You know what amount I allow you each month, and from this day on, you both are to find a way to live within your means or suffer the consequences!”
    “What consequences?” Robert asked.
    “I’ll cut you both off. And don’t think this an idle threat.”
    “How can you treat us this way?”
    “Treat you what way? Try to make you responsible for your actions like most men? I’d say that’s a father’s job, wouldn’t you?”
    “You’ll be sorry for this,” Philip declared.
    “I’m already sorry. I’m sorry you two behave so irresponsibly. I’m sorry you haven’t learned that there is more to life than drinking and gaming.”
    “Some day, you’ll regret this,” Philip said. “Let’s go, Robert. There’s no point in staying. This man who calls himself our father is determined to humiliate us.”
    Henry took an instinctive step backward as he heard them crossing the study to the door. Though he was prepared for their appearance in the hall, he still jumped when they burst through the door and stormed out.