** The horror slumbers buried under many meters of rubble and desert sand. Nameless cartouches, desecrated relics, and a sarcophagus containing an ancient riddle. **
"Ancient lands lost in time.
Storms of sand, walls of lime
Surround this mask of de...
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"...ella! ... Ar... bella!"
Her senses struggled sluggishly out of the swamp of sticky blackness that had taken over her mind. Only with difficulty did the first unsteady thoughts make it to the surface as the young woman's long eyelashes fluttered.
What had happened? She remembered... Fear and empty corridors. And ...
"Arabella!"
A heavy groan escaped her lips as the dancing spots before her eyes faded. Her field of vision gained clarity, and formless shadows slowly gave way to her uncle's worried face. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from the back of her head to the rest of her forehead and eyes. With a contorted face, the young woman instinctively groped for the source of her suffering.
Had she hit her head? Had she fallen?
Arabella blinked and tried to recapitulate what had happened. Her uncle and Mr. Thornten helped her to sit up. From what looked like... a pile of broken bricks and plaster? Pain pressed into her body where she had fallen on stone, but the pulsing of her head overrode everything else. Some nausea made her throat tight, and the young woman had to close her eyes a few times to get a grip on the dizziness.
"What happened?" asked her uncle, whose solicitous expression increased when he saw traces of blood on her fingers. "My goodness - you're hurt ... Did you fall?" At this, his gaze slid from her to the hole in the wall of the chamber.
"Probably just fell over her own feet or that useless junk," Mr. Gates' voice rose, and the man snorted snidely - as if it had simply been her fault or blunt clumsiness.
But that was not what caused anger to bubble up inside her. The fear she had endured moments before still sat in her veins. Together with the pain, it made an explosive mixture that shook the walls of her patience and tore them down with a rumble.
"How dare you ...!" Arabella shook angrily and stepped towards Gates. "You left me alone! In a bloody grave after you had secured ...! What kind of a sicko are you?"
"Wow-wow-wow!" American interrupted her rudely. Gates raised his hand, and the American tapped his forehead meaningfully with his index finger, "You must have bumped your head too hard or inhaled too much dust!" Indignantly, he curled his lips like an irritated dog. "I was standing outside the chamber the whole time! What do you think we are doing here? I'm not your nanny who has to hold your hand so you don't trip over a pebble and fall, Princess!"
This asshole! Arabella gasped, and momentarily, she had to restrain herself from slapping this man's face! "You miserable liar!" Arabella angrily poked the taller man in the chest, "You were gone when I turned around! That's not funny, you bloody Yankie! I could have been lost!"
Now it was her uncle who reached for her. "Arabella, calm down!" her uncle pleaded, and Mr. Thornten stepped in to calm the lady down or, if necessary, to stand between her and Mr. Gates. Better safe than sorry - you never knew with Americans like Gates.
