by Dakota Chase
“Not a big deal?” he gasped. “I kissed you!”
“That wasn’t a kiss. That was a roundhouse punch by way of your lips.”
“I’m sorry!”
“Stop apologizing! Jeez, Grant, it was only a kiss. It’s no biggie. I just wish you’d lay off about me and Tut. Yeah, I think he’s kind of hot, but there’s nothing going on between us. I want to get the amulet and go home as much as you do.”
Grant looked totally miserable. “I know, I know. There’s got to be something wrong with me. I never did that before! I don’t know why I’m feeling all….”
“Jealous?” I finished, smirking a little.
“No!”
“Your lips say otherwise.”
“I… I….”
He’s really cute when he gets all flustered. His cheeks flushed red, and his eyes got big and round, but he really looked scared and confused. I decided to cut him some slack. I picked myself up from the floor, wincing at the way my back ached, and extended a hand to him. “Listen, Grant, it’s okay. We’ll pretend it never happened, all right?”
He stared at my outstretched hand as if it were a cobra ready to strike, but then he slowly took it and let me pull him to his feet. He wouldn’t look me in the eye, though. “We have to go home, Aston. Everything is too weird here. It’s making me crazy.”
“You’re not crazy.” I studied him for a minute, wondering if he really liked me, or if it was as he said, just a product of the general lunacy of our situation. I decided it wasn’t fair to push him about it. If he was in the closet, it wasn’t up to me to pull him out, and if not, if it was a mistake, well, then it wasn’t cool for me to bust his chops about it either.
I found that I was really, really pulling for the first explanation, though.
“Look, accidents happen, and we’re both tired. Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow we’re going to the Great Pyramid with Tut. We’ll figure out a way to snatch the amulet while we’re there, I promise,” I said.
He looked miserable but nodded, turning and opening the door. As he slipped out of my room, he mumbled something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch.
I thought it sounded like he’d said, “It wasn’t an accident, and I’m not really sorry,” but I couldn’t decide if he’d really said it, or if it was just wishful thinking on my part.
I was smiling as I lay back down on the bed. It was a long time before I finally fell asleep because I kept replaying the kiss in my head, over and over again. Had he meant to kiss me, despite what he’d said afterward? Was he jealous because I thought Tut was hot? Was that really the cause of our argument, and not because Grant thought I was putting off trying to take the amulet?
Somehow, I got the feeling that it was.
Whether or not Grant wanted to admit it to himself, he liked me, and not just in a “let’s be friends” sort of way.
I wondered what he’d do if I kissed him?
I grinned at the ceiling as I pondered what Grant was thinking about at that very moment. My money was on him reliving our kiss too. I couldn’t help but hope he was thinking about doing it again.
When I finally drifted off to sleep, my dreams were full of scenarios to that effect, and in every one of them, I kissed Grant, and he kissed me right back.
Chapter Fourteen
WHEN WE met for breakfast the next morning, Grant looked terrible. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and he looked so tired that I wondered if he’d gotten any sleep at all, although he actually gave me a small smile as he reached for a piece of bread on the table. I took that as a good sign that he was coming to terms with what had happened between us. I hoped he was accepting his attraction to me, because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was really starting to like him.
Tut must’ve slept like a rock, because he was a bundle of energy. He ate quickly and seemed impatient for us to do the same. “Come, come!” he said the minute Grant and I had choked down the last of our fruit and drained a glass of milk each. I poured a second glass from a clay pitcher.
I was certain the milk hadn’t come from cows, by the way, since I had seen neither hide nor horns of any, or heard a single moo since we’d arrived in Egypt. It could have been goat milk or hippo milk for all I knew. It was always served warm, was frothy, and tasted a little sweet. I would have preferred water or fruit juice—or better yet, a Coke. Since my chances of finding a soda machine in ancient Egypt were… let me think… zero, and there wasn’t any water or juice at the table that morning, I drank the milk.
“I am anxious to ask the gods for the proof I need,” Tut said as I finished my milk and wiped a foamy mustache from my upper lip with the back of my hand. “It will take a short while to reach the Great Pyramid. We must leave now. I do not wish to be traveling during the hottest part of the day.”
Grant looked at me and rolled his eyes. Neither of us was looking forward to a long walk over hot sand, under the broiling Egyptian sun. I remembered what Tut had said about using chariots, and wondered if he’d arranged to have some for our use or if only Tut would ride to the pyramids.
Lucky for us—or unlucky, in Grant’s case—Tut had no intention of letting any of us walk.
Tut’s servants helped him dress in a loose-fitting white robe and the standard cloth headdress. When we followed him outside, the robe billowed when the breeze caught its folds, reminding me of sheets hung out on a laundry line.
I heard Grant gasp before I saw them.
Six horses were lined up outside Tut’s house. Each team of two was attached by a system of leather straps to an honest-to-goodness chariot.
The chariots looked just like they did in the movies. Well, sort of… two of them were kind of plain. They were carved from wood and covered in animal hides. The third gleamed golden in the sun. I guessed that one was Tut’s. Even his horses were decked out as befitted a king—someone had tied ostrich and peacock feathers to the horses’ manes and tails, and their backs were covered by bright, multi-colored blankets.
Like I said before, the boy sure loved his bling. Even the wheels of the chariot were trimmed with gold, which, I supposed, was the ancient Egyptian version of rims.
A glance at Grant showed he’d paled under his tan, and I remembered him saying that he was afraid of horses. Even though he’d be riding in a chariot and not actually on a horse, he still looked scared.
“Hey,” I said softly, grabbing Grant’s arm. “It’ll be okay. You don’t have to actually get on one of the horses. You only need to steer them.”
“Have you seen those things? They look dangerous!” Grant said. His eyes looked wild, and I figured that not all of the sweat on his forehead was from the heat. He was really scared. No, beyond scared. Grant was terrified.
“You can’t walk, Grant. You have to get on one of the chariots and drive it. How hard can it be? It’s not like trying to drive stick or anything. I’ll keep close by you, don’t worry,” I said. I could see I’d surprised him… hell, I surprised myself. Since when did I get to be so comforting?
Oh yeah. I remember. Since he kissed me and I want him to do it again, I thought, biting back a smile.
“Oh? Since when are you an expert on chariot driving?” he asked, frowning.
“Since I’m not afraid, and you are.”
“I’m not afraid!” he hissed, pulling his arm away from me. “I’m just… cautious.”
“Yeah? Well, if you’re any more cautious, you’re going to pee yourself.” Tough words, and I hated saying them, but I could see I’d dented his pride, and that was just what he needed. He’d get up on the chariot and drive it even if it killed him, just to prove me wrong. The smile escaped my control, and I grinned.
It wasn’t necessary for me to help Grant because there was a servant for that purpose, and I could see my attention made him a little braver, but when he stepped up into the chariot and took the reins, I could see his hands shaking.
I couldn’t decide if Grant looked ready to scream or throw up a
s a servant showed him how to guide the horse. He fisted the reins so hard that his knuckles turned white.
I was kind of excited to drive a chariot. Then again, I was always ready to try new things, although I admit, they weren’t always in my best interest. Sometimes they just seemed to be a good idea at the time—for example, me stealing a car to go for a joyride—but the chariots didn’t appear to be self-destructive as far as I could see, and I was anxious to see what they could do. I didn’t pay much attention to the horses that were going to pull my rig, but maybe I should have.
One of my horses hated me. I know this for a fact because he kept tossing his head around and kicking out with a hind foot, which made the whole contraption shake violently. I named him “Meek,” after the headmaster, not only because the horse was so surly, but also because they sort of looked alike… well, except for the fact that I thought the Meek at home might weigh more than the horse.
Tut was obviously very familiar with his chariot. He didn’t need to drive, though. A tough-looking man with sinewy arms stood at the helm, reins in hand. Servants helped Tut up into the chariot and secured him with the ancient Egyptian equivalent of a seat belt. My guess was that his clubfoot made staying on board difficult.
Once Tut was ready, he gave word. The driver flicked the reins over the horses’ backs, and the chariot set off at a good clip.
I heard Grant yelp as his horses took off after Tut’s, trotting over the desert sand.
My horses stood stock-still, and Meek kicked again. No matter how hard I flicked the reins or clicked my tongue or swore up a storm, Meek wouldn’t move. The other horse tried, but he couldn’t go anywhere without Meek’s cooperation.
Stupid Meek.
Just when I thought I was going to have get off the chariot and pull it across the desert myself, he launched himself forward. I had to grab tight to the edge of the chariot to keep from being thrown off the damn thing.
Well, that’s karma for you, I guess. Here, I was worried about Grant, and I was the one who nearly ended up butt-first in the sand.
The horses galloped on, and the chariot bumped and jerked, but I managed not to fall off. I have to give the horses this much—they made pretty good time. We caught up to Tut and Grant even though they’d had a head start.
And then we passed them.
I yanked back on the reins, but my horses evidently had missed the day in chariot-training when they were taught how to stop. No matter how hard I pulled back on the reins and shouted “Whoa!” or “Stop, you freaking crazy horses!” they didn’t even slow down. We left Tut and Grant, and the servants who were on foot, all in our dust.
By this time it felt as if my spine was going to pop right out of my mouth from the jarring ride. The ancient Egyptian dune buggy made for a hard ride over the lumpy sand. It felt a little like off-roading in an ATV, except rougher. Luckily, we were nearing the Great Pyramid—although the horses refused to stop or even slow down, they at least seemed to know which way to go, which was lucky for me, because I didn’t have a clue. I wondered whether they’d stop when we got there, or keep right on going until we ended up splattered against the side of the pyramid like a bug on a windshield.
The hot desert wind blew sand into my face as we raced toward the pyramids. It was a really rough ride; I was worried that one of the wheels might snap off. If I were thrown while the chariot was rolling at such breakneck speed, I’d be in for a world of trouble. There’d be no doubt that I’d get hurt, maybe seriously.
Either Meek had a few more brains than I gave him credit for having, or the other horse decided enough was enough, because they slowed down and eventually stopped. When it was time to return to Tut’s house in Giza, I wanted a different horse, or I was hoofing it home on my own two feet.
After what seemed like forever, Tut and Grant arrived at the pyramid. The servants would be a while yet, I figured, since they were on foot.
Grant must’ve gotten over his fear of his horses, because he was grinning and looking as if he was having the time of his life.
“What was the big rush?” he asked, walking up to me. “You shot by us so fast I thought your horses’ butts must’ve been on fire.”
“This one’s defective,” I sniffed, indicating Meek. “He doesn’t have brakes. What have you got to smile about, anyway? I thought you were petrified of riding.”
Grant shrugged a shoulder. “It wasn’t really riding. It was driving, and like I told you before, I was just being cautious. Besides, I don’t know what I was so worried about anyway. Once we got going, it was fun!”
Fun. Yeah, it was fun like a trip to the dentist for a root canal was fun.
At least, for me, anyway.
I forgot about Meek and how much I wished he was glue as Grant and I stood in the shadow of the Great Pyramid. This close, I couldn’t see the top, not even craning my neck and leaning backward. It was, I realized, the ancient world’s version of a skyscraper. It was at least four hundred and fifty feet tall! I did the math in my head and realized that worked out to about forty-five stories. No wonder it had been one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. I was willing to bet there wasn’t anything manmade on earth that was taller.
It was amazing. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how they’d built it without cranes and other heavy machinery. One block alone had to be almost five feet tall and just as wide, and must’ve weighed a couple of tons! They got smaller as the rows got higher, but still, we were talking about millions of tons of rock. How had they managed to drag the blocks all the way from the quarry and pile them up using only sledges and ropes? Yet the stones were set together so tightly, I doubted that I could slip a playing card between them.
Tut limped up to us, chuckling. “To watch you, I would think you never drove a chariot before. Do they not have horses and chariots in your country?” he asked me. “How can you live in such a backward place? I will send some mares and a fine stallion with you when you return home, so that you may breed your own herd. I will send a chariot as well, so that your people may see it and marvel at the greatness of Egypt. Your king will be most impressed.”
I was embarrassed that Tut had remarked on my driving ability—or lack thereof—and felt my face grow hot. Let’s see you jump behind the wheel of a Mustang in my world and drive like a pro! I thought. But the last thing I wanted was to antagonize Tut, especially when my ticket home was hanging around his neck, so I asked, “Are you going to have a tomb built like this one? A pyramid?” I didn’t want to talk about Tut’s death, not really, but I was embarrassed about my chariot-driving abilities and the question just popped out.
He shook his head. “No. My tomb lies far to the south in the Valley of the Kings, near Thebes. It will be grand, make no mistake, and filled with all my treasure so that I will have use of my wealth in the next world. For this reason, my tomb must be well hidden from thieves.”
I knew no one would find Tut’s tomb for over three thousand years, which went to show just how secret the location of Tut’s tomb would be, but didn’t think it was a good idea to say so. I pointed to the Great Pyramid. “Are we going to go inside?”
Tut looked shocked. “No, of course not! The pyramid is sealed. It is the sacred resting place of Khufu. It would be blasphemy to desecrate it by entering! We will go instead to the funerary temple, there,” he said, pointing to a walled-in structure adjacent to the pyramid. “I will leave an offering of dates and barley and ask the gods for the proof I require. Come! We will wait in the shade of the temple for my servants to arrive.”
Well, I thought with relief, at least it answers my question about what Tut would leave as an offering. No human sacrifices here, I was glad to note.
Grant and I exchanged a glance and shrugged at one another because we both would’ve liked to see the inside of the Great Pyramid, but we followed along behind Tut as he walked toward the opening in the wall that surrounded the temple.
Chapter Fifteen
THE INSIDE of the funerary temple was no
thing like I’d expected it to be. I thought it would be more like a chapel, with pews and an altar, but it looked very little like any church I’d ever been in. There was a statue inside at the head of the room, who Tut told us was Khufu, himself, in his divine form. In front of the statue, there was a beautifully dyed, woven rug spread on the ground, and a small, empty platter.
That was it.
After seeing the grandeur of the pyramids, I’d figured I’d see the same type of splendor in the temple, with lots of gold and treasure, paintings and hieroglyphics, but it was very plain and simple inside. Tut explained that this place was only for communication between the king or his priests, and the gods. It didn’t need to be rich or elaborate. The wealth of the king needed to be buried with his body, not used in the temple.
He told us that the Egyptians believed death was only a continuation of life, complete with your original body, all its parts, and all the riches, servants, and status you’d accumulated in life. I thought his version of death sounded like graduating high school and going off to college—you were still you, still in school; you had your same MP3 player and favorite pajama bottoms, but it was a different kind of experience in a different place.
When Tut’s servants arrived, he met them outside the temple. No one was supposed to be inside the temple except for priests or Tut, who, since he claimed he would be a god after his death, was the go-between for his people and the gods while alive. I guess it said a lot about the trust Tut had in Grant and me to allow us to be in there at all.
He came back inside with his arms full. He showed us a sack of barley, one of dates, a small basket of incense, a few gold rings, a lion’s pelt, and a loaf of bread.
Grant and I hung back and watched as Tut knelt by the colorful rug and placed the items on it. He put the bread and dates on the platter, and then arranged the other items carefully on the rug before the statue.
