Then the locusts came. Not buzzing— whispering .
Courage’s teeth chattered, but his legs wouldn't run. His eyes climbed the towering figure that now loomed behind the stone: Ramses, king of a dynasty of dread, his gilded beard cracked, his painted eyes weeping black resin. He didn't move so much as unfold —joints creaking like a sarcophagus lid. courage the cowardly dog ramses
“Return the slab,” they hummed, low and dry as a throatful of sand. Then the locusts came