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urgency of the elusive calling propelled her forward without care.
    She pressed her palm to the wall. A protection spell recited word for word in her mind. She recognized it immediately from the pyramid text from the museum. An incantation written by the ancient Egyptians to suppress and neutralize other spells. The mythological magic pulsated beneath her fingertips. To actually experience the enchantment gave Kendra pause. What had she gotten herself into? Maybe Bomani was right?
    She should have waited until the morning.

Chapter Six
     
    A radiant turquoise light emanated from the walls and outlined Kamen’s bulky form with a green halo. The Ancient Egyptians believed this same color could protect them from evil spirits. Kendra lowered her flashlight. Her mouth gaped open. “What is this place?”
    He frowned. “It contains the demotic texts. Black magic.”
    “The answer is here,” she whispered. The vault had no door, only the turquoise veil covering the entrance. “How do I get in?”
    “Only those without sin can pass.”
    Sinless? No one was sinless. Even her. There was the time she used God’s name in vain. Or the time she took her father’s excavating tools without asking.
    “Ah, is there another way in?”
    “No.”
    “What happens if a sinner enters?”
    “Death.”
    “Just that,” she croaked. “Maybe coming back tomorrow would be a better idea.”
    “If you wish.”
    She stared at the glowing waterfall. “Will you come with me?”
    “I cannot.” Kamen retreated a few steps.
    He couldn’t because he didn’t want to or he couldn’t because he was a sinner?  She didn’t have the courage to ask. Asar wouldn’t have granted her access, if harm would come to her, right?
    Unwilling to allow Bakari to suffer any longer, she breathed in deep, held it and stepped into the energy. The equivalent of electric shocks conducted across her skin and bore into her chest. The pins and needles sensation drove her forward until she stumbled clear. She expelled her breath in a nervous laugh. Apparently, her sins weren’t so bad. She looked through the shimmering veil only to see Kamen’s back fade into the darkness.
    He left her to her own devices, never a good idea according to her sisters. She tucked her flashlight into her pocket and turned to the rows of texts that barely fit the span of chiseled sandstone. She stifled a cough. Similar to the tombs she exhumed in Egypt, this place had a rotten compost smell. The power thickened the air, almost suffocating her.
    The sooner she left this place the better.
    She inched forward to a text that lay open on a stone alter in the center of the room. The frayed leather and yellowed parchment attested to the extreme age of the book beyond anything she had seen in the years she spent handling antiquities. The hieroglyphic inscriptions matched the prayer she had palpated from the walls. She didn’t dare touch it and risk disrupting the enchantment. 
    A low hum from the far corner drew her attention. She wiped the sweat from her brow and crept toward the noise. Voices speaking an ancient language skittered over her shoulder and left a trail of warmth against her neck. She whipped around, almost expecting to see she wasn’t alone. The room lay empty.
    The whispers swooped like a flock of birds. She stumbled and bumped her dislocated shoulder into one of the bookshelves. Wincing, she sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.
    “Stop it.” She blew out several breaths willing her heart to slow. Her stomach tumbled and tightened. An eerie quiet descended in the room at her command, and left her with only the choking rancid air.
    She resisted the urge to charge out of the vault. Unable to live with her failure, she pushed off the bookshelf and surveyed the room. How was she ever going to find what she was looking for in this mess? Bound books and stacks of rolled parchments overstocked the shelves.
    The hum that distracted her earlier hissed louder. The source, a