Because courage isn't the absence of fear. It’s being terrified of a two-ton undead pharaoh and still returning the slab.

Courage exhaled. His knees knocked together once, twice. Then he picked up his bone, walked inside, and hid behind Muriel’s skirt for the rest of the afternoon.

The slab vanished into a waiting sandstorm.

He screamed. Ran in a tiny circle. Then, trembling whisker by whisker, he marched past the locusts, past the decaying god, and snatched the slab from the yard. He dragged it toward the road, nails squeaking on stone, while Ramses watched with eyes older than Egypt.

Then the locusts came. Not buzzing— whispering .