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“The school offered me a lot of incentives—a plane ticket here, a stipend, and…” She threw in some jazz hands. “As long as I do a decent job, Dr. Roth agreed to be the fourth member of my dissertation committee.”
As the director of the field school, Dr. Albert Roth was the lead academic in charge of the entire project. In addition to his years of experience in Cyprus, he was a tenured professor who’d published four books on Mediterranean archaeology. For Olivia, getting him to serve on her committee would be a huge coup. She needed four professors to approve her dissertation—a technicality she’d taken care of last year, until one of those professors took early retirement.
Stuart gave her a high five. “Nice work. Roth’s name carries a lot of weight in the classical world.”
“Thanks. I really lucked out. Now I have to make sure I don’t screw up. Which might be tough because I’m wayout of my depth.”
And I’ll be working with my ex. Not that she’d share thattidbit of information with Stuart.
“You’ll catch on quickly. Our biggest challenge is making sure those undergrads stay out of trouble.”
“No kidding. I reviewed the school’s code of conduct on the plane ride over. The rules about underage drinking were unbelievably strict.”
Stuart rolled his eyes. “It’s kind of a joke. Even if the students can’t bring booze into camp, they can still head into Paphos on Saturday night and hit the bars.”
“We’re not expected to stop them, are we?” Her anxiety clawed its way to the surface. Since the harbor town of Paphos was only twenty minutes away, the students could easily get there by taxi.
“Don’t worry about it. We’re here as teaching assistants, not camp counselors. Though we should warn them digging in the hot sun while recovering from a massive hangover is a hellish ordeal.”
“Speaking from experience?”
He barked out a laugh. “We’ve all had our share of drunken shenanigans in the field.”
“Are we contemplating shenanigans?” a snarky voice asked. “If so, then I want in.”
A petite woman with short dark hair, dressed in a tank top and faded cargo shorts, joined them on the porch. One of her bare shoulders bore a tattoo of a stylized pyramid. The other displayed a set of crossed shovels, like the ones on the Camp Kouklia flag.
She nodded at Olivia. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dusty.”
“I’m Olivia.” After a beat, she turned to Stuart. “Wait. Is this the Dusty you told me so much about?”
Dusty gave a little bow. “The one and only.”
Over the years, Olivia had heard a lot of stories about Dusty Danforth. Her parents were Egyptologists whose passion for ancient Egypt had made them legends in the field. Since Stuart’s parents were also archaeologists, he and Dusty had grown up together, spending countless seasons on their parents’ digs.
“Dusty’s here as our illustrator,” Stuart said. “She’ll be drawing the finds and teaching the students the basics of archaeological illustration. When Dr. Roth said he needed someone, I persuaded her to join us.”
“It wasn’t hard,” Dusty said. “What’s not to love about spending the summer in Cyprus?” She pointed to Olivia’s pack. “You trying to figure out where to put that monstrosity?”
“Yeah. After I unload it, I don’t want to lift it again until I leave.”
“Good plan. Come on.” She pushed Stuart in the direction of the Jeep. “Go help the guys unload while I get Olivia settled.”
Olivia hefted her pack and followed Dusty into one of the classrooms. Sunlight streamed in through a row of tall windows, illuminating tiny dust motes. Desks, tables, and chairs were stacked along one wall. Six dark green camp cots were spread across the remaining floor space. Beside each one was a wooden produce crate, presumably for storing personal items. The room gave off a musty odor, and the air was so heavy and thick Olivia immediately broke into a sweat.
“There are two classrooms like this set aside for our cots and our stuff,” Dusty said. “You’ll be in here with five of the female undergrads. I’m in the next classroom over with the other three students.”
“Is this where we’ll be sleeping? It’s so stuffy.” As soon as the words were out, Olivia wished she could take back her whiny tone, but Dusty nodded.
“Yeah, these classrooms are the worst. They don’t have AC or ceiling fans, and the windows barely open. Rick said we’d be better off dragging our cots outside to sleep. Did you see the big soccer field when you came in? We can set them up there.”
“We’re sleeping outside? In the open?” A tent was one thing. But if all they had were camp cots, they’d be exposed to the elements. “What if it rains? And what about predators?”
“You mean the bears? There’ve only been a few brown bear attacks this year, and they weren’t on this part of the island.”
Bears? How was she supposed to sleep if there was a remote possibility a rogue bear would creep into camp?
Dusty burst out laughing. “Sorry. That was totally out of line. No bears in Cyprus. But you should have seen your face.”
