ππ’ππππ‘ πππππ, πππ’π‘ ππ’π¬ βΈοΈ α΄ α΄α΄Ι΄α΄
π§ππ πππ₯π ππ’ππ¦π‘'π§ π¦πππ₯π π π. Even on a gently rocking boat, deep in the cave of Haxhi Ali, my hands remained steady. I hefted the lantern, which was glowing with a magic flame, higher. My mother sat in the boat behind me, papyrus posed and ready. I knew that if I turned around, I'd see her eyes lit up by my light. I'd see the almost complete hieroglyphs she'd prepared. I'd see a lot of things, as observant as I am.But I didn't turn around. My eyes never wavered, never looked away from the creeping shadows that puddled around rock formations and rippled on the surface of the water. There was something-someπ°π―π¦-out there. It was my job to fix that.β¦