Lance's heart stopped for a beat and he held his breath. He tried to move, but his legs wouldn't respond. Peering from the crawl-space edge, he saw Wendy frozen, too. He shut his eyes, opened them again, and fixed on the figure a few feet from her. It was the mummy-not a spirit or the akh or even the pharaoh he'd seen in his room-a mummified body wrapped in aged white linen, with places where the linen had pulled away to reveal gray, dried flesh and bits of bone. Its jaw hung loose from the skull; its arms drooped at its sides as it moved toward them in stiff, tiny steps.