Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery

by R. M. Schultz

  I ran across sand and rock, but a strong hand shoved me from behind. Sprawling forward, I managed to spin around to face my adversary. Snapping jaws descended.

  Journal Translation

  JAWS LUNGED FOR MY NECK. Grabbing the beast’s muzzle, I attempted to hold the snapping teeth at bay. But strong hands pinned mine into the sand. A flash arced over us and the jackal-headed beast sailed into the dirt. Snarling and growling intermingled with hissing and roaring.

  I squinted in the moonlight. Scrambling to its feet, the Mummy Maker yelped and the pack fled back to the temple. I couldn’t make anything else out in the darkness as my head spun in confusion, my breaths shallow and rapid. A soft meow called out and an orange shape pranced toward me. Croc! I jumped in excitement. His hair stood on end, his pupils so dilated they appeared as black orbs.

  Croc couldn’t possibly have knocked one of those beasts off of me. Did they fear cats? What was Croc doing all the way out here, anyway? It couldn’t be coincidence. Scooping up my companion, he glared at the temple and hissed.

  Where was Mutnedjmet? I’d be a coward if I left her, after she risked her life to help. I’d rather die searching for her than live knowing I’d fled for my own safety. But would I be brave enough to return? Perhaps I should carry Croc as a protective amulet. I took an unsteady step toward the stairs.

  “Horemheb!” Mutnedjmet yelled from the darkness to my right. “Don’t go back! You already nearly died!”

  Jogging toward her voice, a figure took shape. The whites around her dark eyes stood out, wide and unblinking. She shook violently.

  “Let’s go,” I said, my heart still thundering against my ribs. Did I really just see monsters and moving statues? What had happened to the world these last few weeks?

  Staring at my chest, she didn’t respond. I glanced down to Croc, who kept a wary eye on the pillars.

  She pointed. “H-he …”

  “We need to get out of here! It’s great they’re afraid, but they’ll be stronger as a pack.”

  “N-no, he … and those things …”

  Grabbing Mutnedjmet above the elbow, I yanked her around. “I applaud your distraction so that I could examine Thutmose’s body, but I wouldn’t have approved of you risking your life.”

  She shook out of my grip and stepped back, eyeing Croc.

  “I saw something,” she said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I couldn’t see well, but I saw something …”

  Croc’s eyelids closed. I’d been in dire situations before and he didn’t do anything. But was that why cats were revered as pets; could they scare away monsters? I shook my head and jogged toward the city.

  “I’m terrified,” Mutnedjmet said, following, “but I’m glad you’re here. I thought you were dead.” She attempted to hug me from behind.

  “I’m terrified too,” I said, trying to divert my thoughts from the snapping jaws of monsters.

  “Someone’s helping you.”

  An image of the old magician and overweight doctor popped into my mind, but the jackal heads forced them out. The city wasn’t approaching fast enough. Who else was on my side? Mahu? No, he always followed orders. I wished Nefertiti would look out for me, but doubted it. “The magician?” I asked, slowing to a brisk walk.

  “There’s no way an old man knocked that thing over. Magic maybe. But I’ve never seen it used and actually work. And the son of Hapu is missing. Do you think he could’ve been murdered?”

  “Why him and not the doctor?” I asked. Did Mutnedjmet know something she wasn’t telling me?

  “If Akhenaten’s trying to become God and is killing those in his way, I don’t see how murdering either one would be beneficial. Could the magician be responsible for the plague—”

  Howls of anger resounded over the desert.

  Moving faster, we reached the city’s outskirts. Amulets now hung around the doors. Visages of a stout dwarf with a mane and beard like a lion stared into the streets.

  “Do people know the Mummy Makers are in the temple?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” Mutnedjmet said, lifting her hands. “They must’ve heard something and at least thought jackals were about.”

  The vast city was eerily quiet. “I think we’re safe.”

  Mutnedjmet’s soft face and hair glinted in the moonlight. Her almond eyes twinkled against pale skin and dark hair, turning to stare into mine. Everything else disappeared.

  I yearned to kiss her—the first time I had had romantic feelings for anyone besides Nefertiti. She smiled. Shaking my head, I buried the thoughts.

  Faint light splashed the eastern sky, hiding the stars. My insides cramped with dread, bringing shooting pain. I needed to get back.

  Mutnedjmet led the way, but glanced about as if beasts would descend from the alleyways.

  I’d confirmed similar wounds on the supposed plague victims, but how would this impact Akhenaten and his plans? I couldn’t accuse him of traitorous acts, I’d be executed. Could Mutnedjmet? And Father was going to be burned today. “We need something to convince Pharaoh of Akhenaten’s depravity,” I said. “He’ll never believe me. You must try.”

  “He won’t—”

  “You’re our only hope. Pharaoh has to oust Akhenaten for good. There isn’t anyone else with enough power.”

  Mutnedjmet frowned but nodded. “I’ll insist Father and Aunt Tiye talk to Amenhotep. But we don’t have any proof, only your and Nefertiti’s accounts of his atrocities.”

  We climbed over the palace’s perimeter wall.

  I yearned to see Nefertiti alone, missing her beyond words. And I didn’t want her to think I’d put Mutnedjmet’s life in jeopardy. Fantasizing, I imagined she’d awaken at my arrival and be elated to see me. She’d invite me into her room, grateful I longed to be her guardian. We’d talk, or perhaps I’d even kiss her red lips …

  After clearing my throat, I said, “I should get back.”

  Mutnedjmet’s head hung with obvious disappointment. “Are you gonna check on Nefertiti?”

  Surprise made me drop Croc. How did she . . . ? I shouldn’t lie to her, I may need her help again. “Maybe.”

  “I could still go with you,” she said, kicking at the sand.

  I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. “I can’t put you in any more danger.”

  She shuffled off. “I’ll look for you tomorrow night, in the gardens and let you know how convincing I was with Ay.” Croc followed her. Casting him a wary glance, she walked faster. He trotted to keep up.

  I smirked, but felt bad. Not bad enough to ask Mutnedjmet to tag along, though. Sneaking off into the predawn, I maneuvered around the scattered sentries and arrived at Nefertiti’s window. No one in sight. I jumped and pulled myself up.

  An icy dagger pierced my soul when I laid eyes upon the scene within. My grip faltered.

  Present Day

  MADDIE’S HEAD JERKED, bouncing her bun. “When were you going to tell me the hired hands tracked us?” she asked, her voice rising a full octave.

  “I only saw them after running for the cab,” I said, backpedaling, my psychological defenses springing up like shields.

  Wheeling on Mr. Scalone, she thrust a finger at him. “Where did you find those two?”

  “I didn’t know them,” Mr. Scalone said, his muscular arms tensing beneath a myriad of tattoos. “A source informed me they had worked with archeologists and could be trusted. I was trapped too, remember? You didn’t see Jenkins running off to help you in Luxor.”

  Leaning against the wall with interlaced fingers, Jenkins the bodyguard made his presence easy to ignore—despite his size. “My job is to protect Kaylin and her little brother, Aiden,” he said. “I’m not here to hunt treasure.”

  “Who’s your source?” Maddie asked, poking Mr. Scalone in the abs.

  Folding his colorful arms across his large chest, Mr. Scalone said, “Can’t tell,” as if he were a respected journalist.

  Maddie’s cheeks burned and the he
at of my own anger ignited.

  “After all we went through?” Maddie yelled, clenching small fists.

  Kaylin cast Mr. Scalone a threatening glare with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw.

  “All right,” Mr. Scalone said. “The Prime Minister of Antiquities. Known him for years … from my line of work. We talked again after our meeting at the restaurant.”

  “Did he have us followed?” I asked, my mind reeling with scenarios. “To make sure we didn’t go digging on our own?”

  Maddie spun on Kaylin, her eyes as hard as stone. “I hope your dad wouldn’t set up a meeting with someone who’d trap and leave us to die!”

  Kaylin gasped, lifting a hand to her pink lips. “I-I. My dad is very influential, but I doubt he personally knew that man. I feel horrible.” She held her hands over her heart. “With a guide and two helpers we thought you were safe, but I called, like, every day. I even bought tickets to fly down to Luxor … right before Mr. Scalone showed up.”

  “What about your lab tech here, Maddie?” I asked. “The one you said inspected the letter’s authenticity? Could he have followed us?”

  Maddie’s eyes widened behind thin lenses. “I only allowed him to examine one side of the paper and the ink. We did it in the evening when the lab was empty, and I didn’t let it out of my sight. He was curious, but couldn’t have discovered the tomb’s location.”

  “I don’t know much about Egypt,” Jenkins said, stepping forward and looking at each of us in turn. The palpable tension ebbed, and my fists relaxed. “But we all need to be more careful and not trust anyone—”

  A beanpole of a teenager stumbled into the room, his red dreadlocks spilling out from under a straight-billed cap—Aiden. Yanking at the waist of his green basketball shorts, partially hidden beneath an oversized t-shirt, he froze like a deer in the headlights.

  “I filled ’em in on what happened,” Mr. Scalone said in his Italian accent, nodding toward Kaylin and Jenkins. “But you two haven’t told us everything. It’s too dangerous to keep secrets, and I’ve a feelin’ that empty tomb wasn’t our real objective.”

  I swallowed in awkward hesitation. This guide wasn’t going to know everything about my dad’s discovery.

  Stepping up beside Mr. Scalone, Kaylin planted her hands on her hips as if she’d wait all night if she had to.

  Maddie chewed her lip. “The Hall of Records is still waiting to be discovered …” She recounted our tale, including Dr. Shelsher’s letter, and how we traced clues to the lost tomb in the Valley of the Kings; she only omitted details about the student’s journal.

  My insides burned with angst as Mr. Scalone had all of our hard-earned information simply drop into his lap. Maddie, Kaylin, and I had made a pact before setting off. We’d be the only ones in the know about the secrets we learned. I didn’t even want to inform Kaylin, but Maddie had already divulged a lot in order to receive her help and funding so quickly. But anyone else Kaylin’s dad hired would only be given general information. Aiden was sent along because their dad hated him hanging around the house, not doing anything with his life.

  “So, the tomb we found was supposed to be the start of an ancient trail,” Mr. Scalone said, running a hand across his dark stubble.

  “Cool,” Aiden said, his eyes bugging out of his head. He must’ve thought this was another vacation he was forced to go on with his sister. “I’m glad you dudes are still alive. Why do I miss all the cool stuff—”

  “Because you’re lazy,” Mr. Scalone said, his accent thickening. “And the tomb was supposed to lead us to this Hall of Records?” A single eyebrow arched onto his forehead.

  “But no clues remained?” Kaylin asked, leaning forward. Her jaw hung open in excitement or disbelief.

  I shook my head. Maddie nodded.

  Kaylin’s petite frame slumped. “But, like, there’s got to be something. Maybe we should go back.”

  Digging a stack of folded papers out of my bag, the dried parchment crinkled. I teased the pages apart. “I took notes on everything, before the incident. Mr. Scalone photographed it, too.” The guide’s expression didn’t budge, not conveying his intent. “We could go over it, but it doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”

  “I unsealed an ancient tomb,” Mr. Scalone said, puffing his chest. “We could be heroes, but without real treasure we should keep going for the final trophy before announcing—”

  “Were there mummies?” Aiden asked, his crooked teeth exposed by parted lips.

  Why would this boy, born into wealth, have crooked teeth and dreadlocks?

  “Only dead and crumbling inside an open sarcophagus,” Maddie said.

  “Let’s contact the media and show them the tomb!” Aiden said.

  “Shut up,” Mr. Scalone said, shoving an open palm at Aiden’s face. “Someone tried to trap us inside and I had to dig us out. We’d be in danger advertising our escape.”

  Something in my core knotted in irritation. Did he really just say he saved us? That selfish d-bag almost let us die. “We’re lucky the flood broke through, or we’d be dead,” I said.

  Mr. Scalone laughed. “A miracle! Or magic!” He waved his fingers like casting a spell.

  “I don’t remember a flood,” Maddie said, her eyes moving back and forth as if trying to recall a memory. “Mr. Scalone pulled me out.”

  What? I searched her face in disbelief. Were my memories of what’d happened only dehydration-fueled hallucinations? “What about the water bottle he told us he didn’t have?” I whispered to her.

  “Honestly, Gavin,” she said, “the entire day before our escape is pretty foggy. I’ve remembered more from drunken college parties.”

  No, that couldn’t be. My breathing quickened with distress. Mr. Scalone kept water from us while we worked ourselves to death.

  Hours faded inside the luxurious sitting room amongst a fervent discussion of the ordeal and what we’d do. Aiden disappeared, his curiosity diminishing. Room service delivered plate-covered entrees of blackened seafood, soft rice, and herbed vegetables. Throwing back a long swallow of bold red wine, pepper clung to my palate. Kaylin polished off her third glass.

  “Book us a flight back home,” Maddie said.

  Kaylin’s slender hands trembled, as if she were almost afraid to leave. “Since you guys have been gone, I’ve run every cipher from a code-cracking textbook on the professor’s letter,” Kaylin said. “His clues would only lead us to the lost tomb. From there we should find where the Hall is buried.”

  The girl was bright, even though she didn’t look it—

  “Look what I scored while you guys were gone,” Aiden said, reappearing and tugging on a leash. A small rodent-like dog appeared on the other end, sniffing. Huge bat-like ears flicked back and forth above a tiny face and a body of tan fur.

  My empty glass clinked onto a decorative white plate, shock making me clumsy.

  “It’s a pet desert fox!” He picked it up in one hand. “Check this out.” Pointing to a spiked collar that resembled a fighting dog’s, only on a purse-riding Chihuahua, he laughed. “And he’s got his own Egyptian souvenir.” A tiny prism—no, a glass pyramid—dangled from its tags.

  “Poor thing,” Maddie said, her eyes fluttering. “Aiden, animals go through hell because stupid tourists want to buy them.”

  Shrugging, Aiden shoved a jerky treat in front of its nose. The fennec fox, which must’ve weighed no more than two or three pounds, gobbled it up.

  The fox was cute, drawing me in to stroke its wiry fur. I agreed with Maddie, but what could we do now, let it out into the wild? It seemed tame.

  Mr. Scalone wrinkled his nose in disgust. “We go exploring and he buys a filthy rat.”

  “I’m going to bed,” Maddie said, standing to leave.

  Jenkins and I followed suit. This long bout of social interaction had tired me out almost as much as the recent ordeal.

  “I could’ve slipped you around any riot,” Mr. Scalone said, pointing at me just before I closed the bedroom door. “Don
’t put these girls in any more danger.”

  My brow wrinkled in surprise as I shut the door, leaning against it. What a jackass. He had left us to take a plane.

  “Kaylin,” I heard Mr. Scalone say through the partition. “I can locate this Hall faster than a couple kids. Let me help you, instead of being your chauffer.”

  “I’ve told you everything,” she replied.

  “Let me see the letter. The one from the 1920s.”

  A few muffled words followed, and then Kaylin said, “We need to talk it over. I don’t want us to get ourselves killed, but I’m not running when we have the opportunity to discover more gold artifacts than what’s in the entire Museum of Egyptian Antiquities.”

  “Deal,” Mr. Scalone said. “We’ll go over everything domani. Want to come to bed?”

  Holding my breath, my throat tightened in suspense. The air conditioning kicked on. I jumped. Did this guide plan on bedding Kaylin, the much younger daughter of the man who had hired him? Mr. Scalone was handsome in a tough, bad-boy kind of way. My fingers crushed the door handle. Was I jealous? Or disgusted?

  “Paul,” Kaylin said, “not now.”

  “You can come in anytime,” he replied. “Just don’t let Jenkins hear you.”

  The soft clap of shutting doors followed.

  Releasing a stale breath, I turned to my bed. I threw the outer crimson, probably unwashed comforter on the floor and flopped down. At least the sheets were clean.

  Touching the pages of the journal, I felt a connection to this servant and his problems with women, self-worth, and meaning. Could he really push on through all that suffering? No one had that kind of stamina. Yet, the characters were real ancient Egyptians, even if those jackal-headed monsters who adorned many tomb walls were priests in masks. And the other unbelievable events, like living statues? Maybe in a time before science they referred to the unknown as magic and embellished it. Horemheb was freaking out in the temple, and imagination is more powerful than reality.