Free Ghosts of Karnak by George Mann

It carried the faint scent of women’s perfume, along with a few loose strands of blonde hair.
    The Ghost swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He recognized the scent immediately. It was one of Ginny’s favorites. He’d spent lazy hours in bed beside her, breathing in that scent, tracing his fingers along the curve of her hip while she’d kissed his neck and playfully slapped his hands away.
    What had she gone and gotten herself mixed up in?
    He threw the pillow back where he’d found it, and replaced the casket lid. Again, there was every chance it was just a coincidence. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands of women out there with the same perfume. He had to avoid drawing conclusions, at least for now, despite everything his gut was telling him, despite the gnawing sense of fear. He needed proof.
Real
proof.
    Something occurred to him, and he glanced back at the pictures on the wall. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but the woman kneeling before the lion goddess in the painting was blonde. He’d never seen a blonde Egyptian before.
    The sound of distant voices brought his reverie to an end. He had to get out of there, and fast. He reached for the hole in the wall, pulling himself through. The dockworkers, or guards, or whoever was on their way, would be there within moments. The wreckage of the statues would hold their attention for a few minutes—long enough for him to get off the ship and be up on the nearby rooftops before the police were called in, assuming he could avoid running into them on his way out.
    With one last glance back at the ruins of the wooden crate, the Ghost melted into the shadows, and slipped away.

NINE
    The motorcar purred across the smooth desert sands, leaving two snaking trails across the starlit dunes.
    Ginny sat in the back beside Amaury, peering out of the window in wonder. It was beautiful out here—desolate, but beautiful. Light was only now beginning to break over the horizon, a shining red disc shimmering across the glassy sand, like the world was only just waking from a long and restful slumber.
    She’d risen shortly after midnight, bathed and dressed, and found the others waiting for her in the hotel lobby. They didn’t look as if they’d been to bed, and sure enough, Landsworth had slept most of the way out here in the car, snoring noisily as their Egyptian driver wrestled with the wheel, leading them deeper and deeper into the empty desert.
    They’d left Luxor behind them over an hour ago, and Ginny hadn’t seen a landmark or settlement since. She had no idea how the driver had any sense of where he was going; he didn’t even seem to be consulting a compass.
    “It’s very…”
    “Bleak?” suggested Amaury.
    “No, not bleak,” said Ginny. “Just… well, I’m not sure, really. Peaceful, but… empty, I suppose. I’d expected to see more buildings, villages, towns, that sort of thing. Ruins, even. I can’t even see the city anymore. It’s just… empty.” She sighed. “If you were to strand me here now, I wouldn’t have any sense of how to find my way back.”
    Amaury laughed. “The desert is a dangerous place, Miss Gray. You can rest assured that you will not have to find your own way back.” He grinned. “Although you might be longing for it, soon enough.”
    The car was drawing to a stop. “What do you mean? What’s going on?” she said, craning to see out of the windscreen.
    They’d stopped before what appeared to be a small encampment, with pitched tents, a campfire, and a number of men milling about. On the edge of the camp, tied to a post by coils of thick rope, were four camels.
    “Oh, you can’t be serious,” she said. “Camels!”
    “I’m afraid the motorcar cannot take us any further,” said Amaury, laughing. “The terrain becomes too uneven as we get closer to the site of the tomb.” He shrugged. “And besides, you said you wanted to see the
real
Egypt.”
    “I said I wanted to see the
Luxor Temple
!” said Ginny, with mock