“What did you say this place is called?” dad asks, scouring over a map of Egypt.
It’s several hours after my meeting with the Krobats, and already he and mum have managed to book us onto a flight to Egypt that leaves tomorrow afternoon.
“Eldra Dairum. But it won’t be on there. It’s not even supposed to exist,” I reply, packing a pair of jeans into my suitcase.
Luckily, mum managed to find us all some cheap clothes in our local charity shop, since most of the ones we had went up in flames. We’ve been packing as much as we can in case our stay in Egypt takes longer than we expect. Not that we can really expect anything, given how little we know. The plane we’re catching will land us in Cairo, and from there dad intends to hire a Land Rover to help us navigate through the desert.
It sound
