When Lucas shifted abruptly to reach for the laptop again, Ian jerked in surprise. “What are you doing?”
Lucas opened the last window. “Taking the last test.”
“But I said—”
“I know what you said. I’m going to find out for myself if I would have fallen into your trap.”
The third test required him to lean forward and squint at the small images on the screen. They were photographs that had been cut into equal pieces, then scattered across the page like a puzzle. Each one had a piece of yellowed parchment on it, with script thick with some sort of Eastern language.
“It’s Syriac,” Ian explained without prompting. “Serto, specifically. It’s—”
“Don’t tell me.” He didn’t want it to influence his answer. “But where did you get it?”
“I logged onto the British Museum’s system. It’s part of the test that’s given to potential hires. Modified slightly for you.”