by Dan Hunter
Akori’s muscles tightened as he prepared to leap at his ancestor. He felt the shrivelled fingers of the servant mummy pulling on him from behind. Caught between two attackers he lashed out with his khopesh, slicing through the dry bone as if it were air. Howling, the servant mummy fell back, holding a stump where its hand had once been. Akori’s stomach turned as he watched the bandaged hand wriggling towards him across the floor. With a quick kick, he sent it flying back through the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ebe’s powerful paws batting the other servant in the same direction. Then, as if to preserve her Goddess power, she began shrinking back into her smaller form.
Crouching, Akori turned to face Amenhotep again, holding his khopesh steadily before him. The dead Pharaoh groaned and started forward. Flashing gold, the sword arced through the air, leaving a gaping slash in Amenhotep’s ragged bandages.
“Try it,” whispered Akori. “But I’ll take you apart and throw you back where you came from, one piece at a time.”
“You musssst die,” Amenhotep groaned again, lunging forward once more, fingers reaching for Akori’s throat.
“Go back to your tomb,” Akori shouted. “Or your soul will never find peace again.”
“I obey the Lordssss of the Underworld,” moaned Amenhotep, swinging his fist.
Akori dodged it easily. But just as he was about to launch a kick at the Pharaoh mummy, a bolt of lightning shot in through the window. Blinded by the sudden, dazzling light, Akori lost his footing and fell backwards. Manu and Ebe raced to his aid, but when they turned they were greeted with a terrifying sight. The remaining servant mummy was on fire. The air was filled with the pungent stench of his burning flesh.
“He must have been hit by the lightning!” Manu gasped.
The servant mummy let out a blood-curdling cackle and started moving towards them. With every step the flames consuming his body got fiercer and higher, until he’d become a walking pillar of fire. Amenhotep advanced on the opposite side – his withered arms raised, intent on death.
Akori looked around for an escape route but there was none.
“Mussst kill,” Amenhotep rasped, from the other side of the flames.
“We’re trapped!” cried Manu, as the fearsome mummies closed in to deliver the fatal blows.
The flames leaped higher and higher, and began turning from red to gold. Akori shielded Manu and Ebe with his body, but he knew this would make little difference. Soon they would all be burned to a crisp.
Gradually, a figure began to take form in the flames. The tall, muscular figure of a man – with the head of a hawk.
Akori gasped with joy. “Horus!”
Manu, Ebe and Akori watched, awestruck, as Horus stepped out of the fire. As he did so the column of flames around him spluttered and died. The servant mummy stood before him, his tattered bandages singed black as the night sky. Amenhotep took a step backwards.
Then Horus spoke, his voice as clear and deep as summer skies. “What is this? Who dares attack my champion?”
The mummies swayed from side to side, not making a sound.
Akori stepped forward, and bowed. “Set and Oba, Lord Horus,” he said. “They sent the Pharaoh Amenhotep and his servants against us.”
“Kill Akori…” Amenhotep groaned. But all of the venom had gone from his voice. He staggered towards Horus and held out his ragged arms in desperation.
“Ssstop me,” he moaned, before lurching at Akori once again. “Pleassse, help ussss. Mussst obey. Mussst kill.”
Horus laid a gentle hand on the dead Pharaoh’s head. “Sleep, faithful servant,” the God whispered.
Akori looked into the ragged face of his ancestor. A solitary beetle crawled from one of Amenhotep’s eye sockets and scuttled down his face like a black tear. “I am sssorry, my grandson,” the mummy whispered. “I had no choice.” Half-turning, Amenhotep managed to hiss, “My thanksss to you, Lord Horusss,” before he fell to the floor, lifeless again.
“Sleep,” Horus repeated, laying a hand on the servant mummy that had been struck by the lightning bolt. The creature fell with a sigh of peace.
“I cannot return them to the afterlife, but I can give them rest until Osiris returns to his throne,” said Horus, going to the shrine to bless the other servant mummy. “Nothing will disturb their slumber until then. Place them back in the shrine. Be gentle with them. They have suffered enough already.”
When the grisly work of lifting the mummies back into the shrine was finished, Horus nodded his approval.
“You did well. In life Amenhotep was a great Pharaoh. I would not have his soul in torment until the end of days. It is evil magic that Oba casts, dragging the dead from their tombs to attack you. There will be a reckoning when his own soul is judged.”
“Or before then if I get my hands on him,” said Akori, grimly.
“That time will come soon enough,” Horus said with a wise smile. “Now you must leave, my champion. The second part of your quest awaits. As you have seen, Oba and Set grow more dangerous. You must reach the Underworld before sundown and win the second Pharaoh Stone.”
“But do I have to win all five Stones?” Akori asked. “Couldn’t I just find Oba and kill him now?”
Horus shook his head, his big falcon eyes sparking with intelligence. “You might kill Oba, but Set and the four remaining Gods who serve him would keep Osiris in his prison,” he reminded Akori. “The army of the dead would still gather and overrun Egypt. To defeat Oba and Set and stop the army, you must first defeat the Gods who serve them. Win the Stones and you will be strong enough to face both of them.”
Akori bowed his head. “Yes, My Lord.”
“Return to your tomb in the Valley of the Kings,” said Horus. “Quickly, before the sun sets. This time you must go deeper into the Underworld.” The God looked into Akori’s face. “Take my blessings with you,” he said.
Golden light surrounded Horus for a second. Forming a column it flared up towards the roof. Then he was gone.
For a few moments there was silence. It was broken by the voice of the old High Priest. “You heard the God, you’d better be leaving,” he said gruffly. They all turned to see the old man standing in the doorway.
Ebe looked up at Akori and Manu, mewing.
“Yes, of course you’re coming, Ebe,” said Akori with a quick smile. “I wouldn’t dare leave you behind.” Then he looked at Manu. “Maybe you should stay here this time? You’d be useful here in the palace, too, you know?” Knowing how nervous his friend was about going back into the Underworld, he wanted to give him the choice of staying behind.
Manu stood tall, and folded his arms across his chest. For a moment he looked every inch a High Priest, despite his youth. “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he said firmly. “It’s the three of us. Always.”
The old High Priest looked down proudly on the boy who had been his student. “Wisdom will come with the passing years,” he said. “But your courage is already as great as any hero’s, Manu.”
Manu blushed. “Thank you. I’ll keep working on the wisdom,” he mumbled.
“Come on then. It’s already the afternoon and we’ve a lot of ground to cover,” Akori interrupted. He felt a sudden surge of excitement. Waiting and wondering what was going to happen next had been frustrating. Now he had instructions from Horus for his next quest he could finally do something. Oba and Set had sent Amenhotep to kill him but they had failed. Now nothing would stop him from claiming the second Pharaoh Stone.
Akori and Manu, with Ebe padding between them, crept out of a small door at the rear of the palace. Storm clouds blanketed the entire sky, transforming it into a bleak, black canopy. But still no rain had come. The wind was howling, lashing and biting at their limbs. Keeping to the shadows of the quietest streets, the trio managed to avoid the few people who were not sheltering inside. There was little danger that they would be recognized. Manu wore the simple clothes of a lowly apprentice priest, while Akori’s golden armour and khopesh were hi
dden beneath a plain dark cloak. He didn’t want to take any chances. People would get suspicious if they saw their Pharaoh roaming the streets unguarded and, for now, the exact nature of their mission had to remain secret.
When they arrived at the east bank of the River Nile, Akori headed straight for a boatman.
“How much to take us to the other side?” he called.
A sun-beaten face peered up at them from beneath a makeshift shelter of old cloth tied to wooden stakes. “In this weather?” the man shouted above a rumble of thunder. “You’ve got to be joking. Come back when the storm clears. I’ll take you then if you’ve got silver.”
“I’ve got copper,” said Akori showing the man a small handful of copper nuggets. As Pharaoh he could have showered the man in gold, but it would be far too suspect for an ordinary citizen to be so extravagant. “We need to go now.”
The boatman looked down into Akori’s hand. “I don’t know,” he said grumpily. “It’s hardly worth risking my life for.”
Akori’s heart began to pound. There were no other boatmen in sight. If this one didn’t take them across the river they’d never make it to the Underworld in time. He looked up at the sky. It was so dark it was impossible to tell how close the sun was to setting.
Knowing they could be running out of time, Akori drew himself up to his full height and put on his most arrogant voice. “Well, take it or leave it,” he said.
Manu nudged him, as if to say, What are you doing? But Akori’s act paid off as the boatman slowly got to his feet and emerged from his shelter.
“All right then,” he said, snatching the copper from Akori’s hand.
As soon as they clambered onto the boat, the wind strengthened. Ebe curled into a ball beneath Akori’s cloak to protect herself from the churning water. It was no wonder the boatman had been so reluctant to carry them across the river; he groaned with each heave of his oars as he battled against the storm. Eventually after being tossed about like a cork, and much cursing from the boatman, they finally made it to the other side.
As they climbed onto the bank Akori looked ahead at the Necropolis of Waset, the pale tombs jutting from the sand. Above them, the mass of black clouds began spitting fat drops of rain and behind the gloom, Akori could just make out the dying rays of the setting sun.
“Come on!” Akori cried. “We’re running out of time!”
As they ran past the animal cemetery, flashes of lightning zigzagged above them and the rain began falling like spears. By the time they reached the Valley of the Kings, the ground was as slippery as oil. Ebe hissed crossly as she struggled to keep dry.
Akori reached the steep hillside leading to his tomb. Turning back to Manu, he shouted over the crashing thunder, “We have to climb now. Think you’ll be okay?”
Manu nodded as Ebe began stealthily picking her way up the cliff towards a cave high above. Akori and Manu hauled themselves up the wet rocks. The rain caused small waterfalls to gush around them, soaking them to the bone. Another crack of thunder roared above their heads. Startled, Manu lost his grip, and with a shout of panic he began to fall. Lightning fast, Akori grabbed onto his wrist, guiding his hand to a safe hold.
Finally, the two boys hauled themselves onto the highest ledge, to see Ebe sitting in the dry sand of the cave beyond, washing her ears.
“Don’t worry about us,” muttered Manu as Akori led the way into the tomb without pausing to rest.
Ebe gave him a look that clearly said, “I was wet, you can look after yourself,” and trotted along behind.
Akori glanced at his own vast face carved in stone. This was the second time he had visited his future tomb and it still gave him the creeps. But the place where they were going to was creepier by far. For the first time since setting off, Akori felt a wave of fear as he thought of the monsters they’d encountered before. What horrors awaited them in the Underworld this time? He quickly traced his fingers over the Stone of Courage in his collar and was instantly filled with a warm glow of confidence.
“Come on,” he said to Manu, nodding at the lid of his coffin.
Using all their strength, the two boys pushed the heavy stone, then clambered inside. Ebe leaped in after them before they lowered the lid and huddled together in absolute darkness. At first nothing happened and Akori’s heart sank. Were they too late? Had the sun already set behind the storm clouds? Suddenly the coffin began to shudder. Faster and faster, until every bone in Akori’s body rattled. The blood in his veins pulsed in time and in the darkness he began to smile. They had made it. His second quest had finally begun!
A blue glow appeared on the stone wall of the coffin, dimly lighting the faces of Akori, Manu and Ebe. Akori had been expecting this. The last time they had plunged into the Underworld, he and Manu had chanted the words of power that had begun their journey into the lands of Osiris. Akori’s stomach lurched as the coffin began dropping like a rock thrown into a well. Bracing himself for the landing, he squinted at the stone, trying to make the words out as they appeared, grateful for Manu’s patient teaching that meant he could now read and write, a little. Even so, many of the strange hieroglyphs were still beyond his grasp. The first words were exactly the same as last time.
“I shall sail rightly in my vessel, I am Lord of Eternity in the crossing of the sky…”
Akori stopped reading. “The next bit is different,” he said. “The words aren’t the same as before.” He pointed at the glowing hieroglyphs. “This one means water, I know that, but what does this say?”
“Labyrinth,” Manu answered, peering up at the lid. “It looks like some kind of warning about what lies ahead.”
“Battle,” said Akori, picking out another word. “Battle and water and labyrinth. That doesn’t make any sense.”
Manu frowned. “You’re right, it says that we must fight water and find the fastest path through a labyrinth.”
“Fight water?” Akori felt even more confused. “How can you fight water?”
Manu shook his head. “Who knows? We’re heading into the Underworld, Akori. Nothing is straightforward there.”
Ebe pressed her nose against the glowing hieroglyph for water and hissed.
Then the coffin began spiralling even faster. Akori felt his stomach lurch and all of the blood in his body seemed to rush to his head. Just when it felt as if his head might explode, the coffin reached a juddering halt.
Akori looked at Manu and Ebe in the dim blue light. “Good luck,” he whispered.
“You too,” Manu whispered back.
Ebe nudged Akori’s arm with her nose and gave a reassuring purr.
Cautiously, Akori pushed the stone lid back and they all peered out into the gloom. Rain was falling in sheets. Through the misty air Akori could just make out the open Gate to the Underworld. He shuddered as he remembered what he’d had to do to open it in his last quest – being swallowed alive by the monstrous creature who had guarded the Gate.
“We’re back where we left last time,” Akori whispered. “On Aken’s boat.”
Ahead, just visible through the pouring rain, a man sat pulling on a set of black oars, his body facing towards them. His head, however, was facing backwards, for ever looking in the direction the boat was headed. Scrambling out of the coffin, Akori, Manu and Ebe stood at the side of Aken’s boat, shielding their eyes from the driving rain. Overhead, lightning ripped through the sky, and thunder rumbled like the warning growl of a dog the size of a house.
“Do you think this is the water we’re supposed to battle?” Akori shouted over the deafening roar of the rain.
Manu shrugged. “The warning on the coffin wasn’t clear. But let’s hope so. It’s a fierce storm, but at least it’s not actually trying to kill us.”
Suddenly, Ebe jumped up, placing her paws on the edge of the boat, ears flat against her head. Gazing out into the rain-lashed darkness, she mewed. Both boys turned their heads to look in the same direction.
“There!” shouted Akori, pointing. “Reeds. We’re close t
o the bank. We might be able to wade ashore if we jump.”
“But we have no way of knowing how deep the water is,” Manu said with a gulp.
“Only one way to find out,” Akori replied, a determined expression etched on his face.
Without another word, he vaulted over the side of the boat, gasping as he hit the icy river. He grasped onto the side of the boat, trying to stop it moving away. But the water was deeper than he expected – almost up to his neck. The current wrapped itself around him like a rope and began dragging him downstream.
“Quick, Ebe, over here,” he panted. Within seconds, the rushing water and Aken’s oars would pull the boat from his fingers and it would be swept beyond his reach. Hissing at the water, Ebe jumped onto his shoulder. “Now you, Manu,” Akori called.
Manu muttered a prayer as he leaped from the boat. “C-c-cold!” he shouted breathlessly, half-wading, half-swimming towards the shore.
Akori swiftly followed him. He tried to move faster, but his soaking clothes were heavy and the current clutched at them, threatening to pull him under. Beneath his feet, river mud sucked at his sandals. Gradually, though, he made his way to the shore, struggling through thick reeds.
Sodden, Ebe jumped to the ground, hissing and looking bedraggled. Manu was in a similar state, his cloak spattered with mud and clinging wetly to him.
“I’m beginning to think I’d prefer to fight something that’s actually trying to kill us,” Akori shouted. Quickly, he pulled off his own sodden cloak. There was no need for a disguise here and it was too wet to be of any use.
But Manu didn’t reply. Instead, he stared past Akori, his face draining of colour and his eyes widening.
“What?” Akori shouted as thunder rumbled again. “What’s the matter, Manu?”
Slowly, Manu raised his hand to point.
Akori turned.
His mouth fell open.
