Danaus said nothing until we hired a pair of camels and started riding northwest into the desert, past the Tombs of the Nobles. I looked over my shoulder once as we topped the massive hill to see Aswan spread out before me, glittering in the night, with the Nile gliding like a black asp toward the north. We were leaving behind the last signs of civilization.

“Where are we going?” the hunter called from his camel behind me.

My gaze remained on the rock formation to the west that was steadily growing in size. It was the western quarry. “Seeking the key to the triad.”

“Which is?” he prompted after a few seconds of silence.

“Who is, you mean.”

“Mira…”

I smiled. There weren’t too many creatures that could reduce my name to a low warning growl, but Danaus was quite successful. “Jabari.”

“I thought you said he was dead.”

A warm wind swept across the desert from the south, carrying with it the faintest hint of the Nile. The only sound in this vast wasteland was the muffled footsteps of the camels as they steadily maneuvered through the soft sand. There was no life out here beyond the snakes and scorpions. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was gazing at the reason why the Ancients of my race were dwindling. As time passed, Jabari spent less time in the company of the living, preferring the solitude of the vast desert terrain he ruled. And while Tabor had been barely more than half Jabari’s age when he was murdered, I knew he had taken to spending more time in Russia’s icy tundra than in the western cities of Moscow and St. Petersburg.

While we never aged and were completely immune to disease, my species struggled to last more than a few millennia at best. What was the point of immortality if you couldn’t live for more than a couple thousand years?

I bit back a sigh and absently patted my camel’s neck, running my finger over its coarse hair. “I don’t know. Jabari was always the strongest of the triad. If he is gone, I would like to know if the naturi are responsible.”

I didn’t know what had happened to Jabari. I suspected that I should have gone straight to the Coven, but I wouldn’t have been able to keep the hunter at my side, and for now, I didn’t want him out of my sight. Besides, my interaction with the Coven had always been through Jabari. I didn’t know how to directly contact Macaire or Elizabeth, the two other members of the ruling vampire body. I didn’t think anyone in the Coven would have tried to destroy Jabari. He was one of the oldest and strongest of the Elders, just below Our Liege. Besides, getting any kind of answer from the Coven was proving to be a waste of my time. And for the first time since becoming a nightwalker, I had a feeling that time was in short supply.

After a thirty-minute ride through the desert, we finally reached the great rock outcropping that rose up around us. An anxious knot tightened in my stomach as I dismounted from the camel. The wind had stopped and the desert seemed to hold its breath as the shadows created by broken slabs of rock watched us in silence.

Danaus started to walk around me and enter the quarry, but I placed my hand in the center of his chest, stopping him. One last time I stretched out my powers, scanning the area. I reached out into the desert and back toward the Tombs and to Aswan, searching for any sign that a nightwalker was near. There was nothing, and it hurt. It hurt more than I wanted to admit. There was no Jabari. Only something dire would draw him away from this area for so long. Maybe he already knew about the naturi and was with the Coven, but for some reason, I didn’t believe it. I’d left messages with every contact I had with the Coven and heard nothing. I’d even checked one last time when I awoke in Egypt, but no one responded. With a slight shake of my head, I headed into the quarry with the hunter close at my side. We were on our own.

Slowly, we picked our way around giant boulders and slabs that had been smoothed with ancient hammers and chisels but never taken to the monuments they were intended for. I paused beside an unfinished obelisk. Three sides had been smoothed and carved with hieroglyphics and other images. The fourth side was still unfinished after countless centuries. Abandoned.

“Why here?” Danaus said, standing beside me. “Of all the places in Egypt, why would he be here?”

My hand slid over the unfinished obelisk, images of the last time I had walked through this quarry flashing through my brain. I could recall it as if it had happened only moments ago. I’d been feeling restless then, in no mood to be around the peoples of Alexandria while memories of the naturi haunted my daylight rest, and Jabari brought me down to Aswan. We’d wandered up one side of the Nile and down the other, allowing the quiet to seep into our skin. Walking beside me, Jabari had explained all that went into creating an obelisk of this size.

“Jabari was one of the chief architects for Amenophis II. He designed parts of Karnak,” I told Danaus, pride bringing a wavering smile to my mouth as I stared into the emptiness. Jabari had told me of a trip he made to Aswan when he was human, and to two of the quarries here to inspect the stones that would be shipped back to Karnak. Though he never spoke of it, I always got the impression that he never had the chance to finish his life’s work at Karnak because his human life had ended somewhere between Aswan and Luxor.

“What are we looking for?” Danaus asked.

Holding out my left hand, I conjured up a small flame, which flickered in the breeze that begun to stir once again. “A sign.” Closing my hand around the flame, I tossed it out into the night before us. The flame split into six separate balls of fire and shot out into the deep reaches of the quarry. Shadows danced and retreated around us, revealing their secrets. If Jabari had fought the naturi here, there would be signs of a battle. The rock wall would have new scars, the earth gouged, but above all I would have been able to sense Jabari’s death. I was around when nightwalkers were destroyed, had even killed a couple Ancients myself. I knew that a ripple of magic was left in the air when a nightwalker was destroyed, and it lingered for years. The older the nightwalker, the thicker the mark. If Jabari had been destroyed here, I would see it and feel it.

“This is unexpected,” stated a deep voice from behind me. We both spun around to find Jabari standing at the top of the unfinished obelisk.

At just over six feet, he was an impressive figure in his traditional robes. Even for a vampire, his skin was still dark, midnight hair cut short on his head. His almond-shaped, mahogany eyes watched me, questioning. He hadn’t directed his gaze at Danaus yet and he wouldn’t. To recognize Danaus’s presence was to give him importance.

Despite the fact that he was standing just a few feet away from me, I still could not sense him. It was like he wasn’t really there. I hadn’t moved from the base of the obelisk, couldn’t even drag my voice past the lump that swelled in my throat. It was like staring at a ghost.

His eyes softened and he raised a hand toward me, beckoning me to his side. It was all the encouragement I needed. I scrambled up the obelisk until I nearly collapsed against him. Wrapping my arms around him, I pressed my cheek to his shoulder. My teeth were clenched so hard my jaws ached as I swallowed the sob that had knotted in my throat. He hadn’t been destroyed. He was real and right here.

For a moment my world threatened to crumble. Centuries had passed since I last stood with him in his beloved Egypt, held in his benevolent arms. He had helped me recover from horrors I thought would plague my dreams for all eternity. And then one day I left and never looked back. I stood on my own two feet. But now I stood there holding him as if he were my last tie to sanity.