House of Scarabs

by Hazel Longuet

  Ellie grabbed her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. "Not as much as I love you, lollipop."

  "Ah, you called me that when I was on Earth. I heard you. You used to say, ‘Hurry and grow, lollipop, so I can meet you.’ And look, I grew real big, Mommy."

  Ellie stared at her, eyes wide. "Yes, I did. You were my secret lollipop. Mommy loves you so much, Amarine. Remember that when I'm away. And I promise you, I will come back to visit as often as I can." She covered her face with kisses and pulled her back in for a hug.

  Sam walked up behind them and cocooned them in his embrace. "You are my everything, but I can't leave her. She will be the target of great interest here as the only child of the gatekeeper. Some may try to use her to get to you. She needs me. She's the only thing that could ever keep me from you."

  Ellie stared into his chocolate eyes, saving the memory of his arms and the adoration on his face to return to when she was alone on the living plane. "I always knew you'd be the greatest dad. She's a lucky girl. Oh, but I'll miss you so much." She blinked the tears away, nodding at him as she turned. Elspeth blew her a kiss, and Ellie pulled her lips tight, swallowing the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. "Keep them safe for me, Grandma.”

  “You know I will, darling. Now go make us proud..."

  Ellie bit her lip, drawing blood, as she closed her eyes, willing the pain away. She brushed the tears from her face and knelt to stare into little green eyes. "I'm so glad I got to meet you, lollipop. Will you promise me to dance, to laugh, to play games, and to do your best to make Daddy laugh at least twenty times a day when I'm gone?"

  Amarine considered the question before answering seriously, "Twenty times is a lot, Mommy. Could we make it eighteen instead?"

  Ellie laughed and nodded. "Okay, that's a deal, Eighteen laughs." She got up and ruffled Amarine's hair, smiled at Sam, and rubbed her fist around her chest, as she'd always done to tell him she loved him when they were in public. He smiled with tears in his eyes and returned the gesture. He took Amarine's hand and walked back to Elspeth.

  Ellie studied the group one more time, with tears pouring unchecked down her cheeks, before turning towards the gate. It shimmered and cleared as she unlocked it and walked through.

  Epilogue

  A ripple flowed across the desert plains, the agricultural green lands, the concrete jungles of the cities, and the fast-running waters of the Nile. It was a ripple unseen by the living, just a subtle blur that softened the focus for a second. Yet, it exploded through the realm of the dead, heard by everyone, understood by only a few who'd been waiting a millennium for its arrival.

  They stretched like satisfied cats, moving towards the nearest gateway, in no particular hurry after having waited for so long. As they slipped through the barrier, the ripple’s impact became felt in the living world.

  The royal mummies reanimated in front of the startled gaze of thirty schoolgirls on a trip to the Egyptian museum.

  In Luxor's Valley of the Kings, American tourists witnessed Tutankhamen's resurrection.

  Nobles exited their tombs in Saqqara after several millennia of slumber.

  A gentle knocking emanating from a sarcophagus in the storage repository of the British Museum shocked the young Egyptologist working nearby.

  The ancient Egyptians had returned, ready to reclaim their heritage and positions. Innocents in a strange new world.

  THE END

  I hope you enjoyed my little tale. As an indie author, I totally depend on reviews to encourage other readers to take a chance on my book. I'd be so grateful if you'd spare a moment to leave one. It's easy. Click this link, and you'll go straight to the review page on Amazon.

  Want to know more about this world and what happens next?

  Sign up to my reader community list by clicking here. I'll keep you informed about new releases and give you priority access to FREE short stories that explain the backstories of some of your favourite characters as I write them. As a thank you, you'll get a FREE copy of the prequel House of Scarabs: Genesis, which takes you 3,000 years back to the time of the pharaohs and explains how Ellie, Ben, and Gerhard's ancestors were imbued with the seed of the House of Scarabs. Grab it NOW or read on for a preview.

  Afterword

  Evil comes in many forms, in both the unintentionally heinous acts done by good people and the rotten souls that rampage through life, leaving misery in their wake.

  Can anyone be truly good or truly evil? When I first dreamt this story, I became fascinated with the concept that the Guardians of the Ankh were good people forced into terrible actions. The trio of the House of Scarabs were a kind, normal bunch but encumbered with powers that could unleash global chaos. Neither group were traditional goodies or baddies but a complex mix of both, which, honestly, is truer to life than the standard premise of good versus evil.

  The book came sixty percent formed in one of my reality dreams - dreams so intense, painted in such rich shades and detail, that the barrier between dreaming and reality blurs somewhat. It fascinated me, and as a lifelong bookworm, I wanted to know the ending, but I was the only one who could uncover it, so I started writing. I hope my attempts have done the story justice. I have tried to be historically accurate but there are occasions where I’ve bent the facts a little to suit the story.

  It's taken me an age (five years), as I went through a move across continents, and then another within the UK. I became a doggie mum to two Rottweilers, Magical Merli and Asha, the one-eyed queen of hope. Through it all, I kept slogging on with the story, sometimes with months of breaks enforced by home renovations or illness. I'm proud of the final result, but now the bookworm is whispering again, "But what happens next?" That, I will answer in the sequel – House of Bastet, coming out in 2019.

  I hope you enjoyed House of Scarabs. It feels odd to put my baby out for everyone to judge, but if you liked it, I'd be so grateful if you could leave a review here. They help us bookworms find great new reads, and they help the independent authors find new readers.

  The bookworm in me loathes typos or story inconsistencies, so I've worked day and night to catch the little blighters. I've set traps to find and eradicate those tricky little spelling mistakes and grammar goofs, but if you come across any, please let me know, and I will zap them with my magical editing wand. Email me at: contact@hazellonguet.com.

  Thank you for using your precious time to read my book, and I truly hope we meet again in the pages of another story or via one of my social media connections.

  You can follow me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HazelLonguetAuthor

  You can tweet me at: http:///twitter.com/HazelLonguet

  Join my reader community: Click here

  Or visit my House of Scarabs’ Pinterest board to see locations, casting ideas and book covers: http://www.pinterest.co.uk/hazell/house-of-scarabs-inspirations/

  Farewell... for now.

  Hazel

  If you are wondering how the story started, read on for the opening chapter of the prequel, House of Scarabs - Genesis.

  Genesis

  Prequel to House of Scarabs

  Faced with the extinction of their faith, the high priest of Egypt must take steps to preserve the gods’ knowledge for the sake of the pharaoh’s immortality.

  One vision rocks the foundations of the Egyptian belief system. The pharaoh’s seer knows that their civilisation will perish and their faith fall fallow. Horrified at the implication, she shares the news with the high priest of Egypt. Only together can they plant a seed that will allow the culture to return and flourish. Her vision is clear. They must select a group of men who will carry the power of the ancient gods within them. They will form a secret organisation that will cross the plains and oceans to ensure that one day, the pharaohs can rise again and reclaim their rightful place as world leaders.

  Nothing must stop them - not even the pharaoh.

  The only problem is they have a spy in their midst who’s determined to see them fail.

 
Genesis is the prequel to House of Scarabs and should ideally be read after it. If you like historical thrillers, quirky characters, and tales of mysterious ancient powers, then you’ll love this novella.

  Read on for a sneak peek at the first two chapters of Genesis or click here to download it for FREE when you join my reader community.

  For those of you who will never join a mailing list but still want to read the prequel, I've made it available to buy from Amazon.

  The Seer

  The fountain of knowledge was bathed in sunshine, the water throwing glimmering lights around the walls of the courtyard. The fountain held centre stage, with four twisted old olives standing sentry in each quadrant of the famed courtyard of all knowledge. Except for the gentle trills of the dancing water and the distant birdsong from the gardens surrounding the temple complex, all was quiet. The day was young and the sun yet soft.

  Kiya hummed softly whilst gazing into her scrying mirror. At only twenty years and one, she was young for her weighty role, yet everyone agreed that never had a pharaoh been so blessed with such a powerful and accurate seer.

  Raiders had captured her family long ago and sold them into slavery. They were split amongst various owners and spread across the known world. Kiya considered herself one of the lucky ones to have found her way to the pharaoh’s court.

  When she’d come into her powers as a mere child of eight, the pharaoh's court considered her something of a child protégé. Her astounding accuracy saw her fly up the ranks until she’d taken the role of Pharaoh’s Seer. She’d held the position for five years, and so far, had never seen something that didn't come to pass.

  The early mornings were her favourite time, when the sun had yet to heat the air, the temple was wrapped in the silence of sleeping priests, and the birds were rejoicing the dawning of a new day. She could let her mind wander and enjoy a modicum of freedom before her duties pressed down on her.

  She laid the mirror down with great care and wandered over to sit on the edge of the fountain, trailing her fingers through the twirling jets. The sun played with her honey-blonde hair, bringing fiery highlights into focus.

  A movement in the water caught her eye, and she stared, immediately taken into a vision. As the importance of this vision became obvious, she held her breath, wishing that this was the one that broke her perfect record. Unable to process what she’d seen, she hurried back to the scrying mirror that rested on one of the devotional cushions scattered across the yard. She gazed into the depths of the polished metal surface, which clouded and again replayed the same vision, with the same details and same horrific outcome.

  Dropping her precious mirror, she lifted the long white lengths of her dress and ran to gain the high priest’s counsel. Telling the pharaoh what she'd seen could result in her own execution. Only the high priest could help her. She knew this emphatically, for the vision had shown her the path to take. The future never lied.

  The High Priest

  Haremakhet was particularly reflective that morning. Egypt had basked in a prolonged period of peace under the guiding hand of the pharaoh and his all-seeing seer. As a high priest, it had been a period of great reward. Less political wrangling gave him time to build the temple’s brethren. He'd opened religious studies to more of his pharaoh’s subjects. They lived in blessed times, a golden epoch.

  And yet, today was different. Today, he felt the dark hand of fate hovering.

  He swept the Holy of Holies with a worn broom almost bare of bristles. His assistant priests had tried to wrestle it from his hands more times than he cared to remember, and yet, he always returned to it. It wasn’t his responsibility to clean the inner sanctums anymore; it hadn’t been for years, but he felt closest to his gods when he was toiling in manual labour, serving their needs. It was a philosophy he insisted all his priests follow, but few embraced it as whole-heartedly as he.

  He heard the soft tap of feet running through the temple toward him. Surprised another was about so early, he turned to greet his visitor. He knew it was Kiya as the sun lit her fiery hair, which was so unusual within the kingdom. She was trying to show respect to the deities but was obviously in distress and hurrying through the rituals to get to him.

  “Your Eminence,” she said, flowing into a deep curtsy, her left arm across her chest as she bowed her head and bent at the waist.

  “Your Omniscience,” he replied formally, touching his head and heart and bowing back. “You appear in a rush, my dear. Is all well with you?”

  “With me, yes. But not with our world, Haremakhet. The gods, praise be to them, presented me with a vision of such consequence that I fear our society is doomed,” Kiya said. She looked earnestly at the high priest. “I seek your counsel, Haremakhet, for this is a prophecy of such import, yet I can’t share it with our great pharaoh. The gods forbid it, and even if it were not so, I would be extremely fearful to report such loathsome news. He would surely kill me to remove the blight.”

  Haremakhet had never seen Kiya so riled. She was always the epitome of decorum and propriety. A woman of rare beauty, beguiling and serene. Her greatest quality was how unaware she was of her impact on others. As High Seer, she was destined to remain a maiden, her virtue intact. Only if it were so would the gods continue to bless her future visions. He’d often thought it sad but acknowledged the importance of her role to the entire Egyptian dominion.

  “Do the gods, praise be to them, sanction my consultation, Kiya?”

  She raised her cornflower blue eyes, eyes so startling and intense that people often had difficulty looking at her. “Haremakhet, they demand it. The actions you and I take today will shake the world over three thousand years after we meet our makers. This is our destiny, to set theirs.”

  “Whose, Kiya?” he asked, bewildered by her trance-like reply.

  “The House of Scarabs, Haremakhet. The Resurrectionists. Those we choose today will carry the secrets of resurrection forward to allow our great pharaohs to rise again. They must leave our lands and travel to new, unknown territories and carry that knowledge, protecting it until the time is right to start again. Our great gods will wither, and a new god will rise and be worshipped around the world. The ways of our people will be forgotten, lost to the desert sands. Our great knowledge will be lost, and civilisation will retreat, leaving our people illiterate and backward. Egypt will lose its place in the global theatre. Our temples will be looted as the people turn to their new god, a god so great he has no name. His followers will banish the other gods into the realms of myth and legend. Such is our future, High Priest, and there is no action I can recommend to change it. It is set and will happen. All I can do is guide you to ensure we respect the desires of our pharaohs, past and present, and give them the gift of regeneration. This is what we must do.”

  He stared at her as her words resonated in the echoes of the Holy of Holies. He said nothing. He wanted to. He wanted to shout at the gods for abandoning them to such a bleak future, for not fighting this all-powerful usurper. Yet, he knew that they were all-seeing and all-knowing. This abandonment, whilst extreme, must surely be for some long-term benefit that was too great for him to imagine.

  “Kiya, the rituals of resurrection take twenty years to master, and only a few of the graduates are ever granted the powers by the gods. Every one of them is known and would be missed. How can we create this House of Scarabs without showing our hand?”

  “My dear friend,” she whispered, grasping his arm, “the gods will preside over the initiation. They will seed a latent talent that negates the need for years of apprenticeship. We must select the candidates from the brotherhood of priests that serve Khepri, Bastet, and Sobek. I know not why. We must make haste. Our preparations can’t take long. The House must be formed when the moon is next full. Blessings be, Haremakhet. Tell no one of this, for if we fail, our souls will be subjected to the rage of Anubis in the afterlife.”

  “Wait. Kiya, I have so many questions.”

  Kiya smiled. “As do I, Your Emine
nce, but we have all the information deemed necessary by the gods to complete our task.”

  Her eyes glazed as she gazed into the distant corner of the holies. She shook her head slightly and turned back to him.

  “Haremakhet, our son. You will live out a long and peaceful life serving us, as will more generations to come. Our demise is assured but not in your lifetime and not permanently—if you do as we request. Be good and be true. Offer wise counsel. You will bathe in our love.”

  Kiya’s eyes cleared as she found his gaze. “It’s time, Your Eminence,” she said with a gesticulation of piety.

  Touching his head and heart and bowing from the waist, he answered, “It appears it is, Your Omniscience. Gods’ blessings go with you.”

  Kiya backed out of the Holies before rushing away.

  The high priest studied the floor, watching a scarab beetle dart across the sandy surface. The light played on its back, turning the black body into an oiled sheen of purple, green, and blue. He closed his eyes and contemplated everything Kiya had shared with him. With a deep sigh, he picked up the broom and completed the temple floor, said his morning prayers in a whisper, and left to convene a religious council.

  Available End of January 2019

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  Acknowledgments