"You're quite right," Carmelina agreed, to the man: the witch most certainly hadn't been buried in Irvingly, and this tomb was quite clearly not supposed to be lurking in the walls of the Irvingly Casino. "All this ought to be in Egypt," she echoed, still peering at the runes, and rapidly trying to pick out other clues in amongst the general rhetoric of doom. "I've never seen anything else like it somewhere like here. So that - " and whatever answered this had to tie into what had started all this and Miss Sykes' question of how to counter the curses that had been unleashed, as was the way, "- means there must exist either someone or something - physical - here, something bound to the witch's spirit which has brought her and her curses here."

She looked at the walls again, wishing her brain might decipher the runes faster so that she could be sure she hadn't missed anything obvious about what that was. If only Walter were here - he would have been a help. She had never done this sort of thing entirely without him.

Young Mr. Scamander's shout snapped her out of her faraway focus on the mystery and back to a more manifest clue. "Well," she said, clearing her throat and stepping towards the dubious bridge obligingly, "perhaps we'll find it through that door." She screwed up her face in a nervous sort of grin, glancing briefly at Miss Sykes, and then steeled herself to cross. Better not look down.

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