Clash of the Dark Serpent

by Dan Hunter

  With thanks to Martin Howard

  First published in the UK in 2013 by Usborne Publishing Ltd., Usborne House, 83-85 Saffron Hill, London EC1N 8RT, England. www.usborne.com

  Text copyright © Hothouse Fiction, 2013

  Illustrations copyright © Usborne Publishing Ltd., 2013

  Cover and inside illustrations by Staz Johnson. Map by Ian McNee. Coffin illustration by David Shephard.

  With thanks to Anne Millard for historical consultancy.

  The name Usborne and the devices are Trade Marks of Usborne Publishing Ltd.

  All rights reserved. This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or used in any way except as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or loaned or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Epub ISBN 9781409568636

  Batch no 02929-02

  British Museum endorsement

  Copyright

  The Sacred Coffin Text of Pharaoh Akori

  Map of Akori’s journey through the Underworld

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Collect all of Akori’s quests

  Quest of the Gods website info

  Collect the cards and play the games

  A flame blazed in a wide copper dish, forming strange, magical images. The demon-boy, Oba, once ruler of Egypt, now King of the Underworld, leaned forwards and studied the flickering fire-pictures. He saw his enemy, Akori, leaning over a table, playing the ancient game of seega. Oba recognized the board immediately. Clutching the arms of his throne with his greasy fingers, his mouth curled into an ugly sneer.

  “My game,” he snarled to himself. “That puffed-up farm boy dares to sit in my palace, playing my game.”

  In the dancing flames, the image of Akori, the young Pharaoh of Egypt, moved a stone counter, taking his opponent’s remaining pieces with a grin of triumph. Opposite him, a skinny, bald boy – Akori’s High Priest, Manu – shrugged and crossed his arms in defeat.

  Oba’s sneer turned into a hoarse croak of rage. “That High Priest must be some kind of drooling idiot to be beaten by a filthy peasant. Either that, or he’s letting him win.”

  Oba got up and began to pace the floor, his blood boiling with anger and frustration. “I’ll make that farm boy pay for his insolence,” he spat. “He sits on the throne of Egypt – my throne – a common peasant, pretending he is the real Pharaoh while his grovelling priest allows him to win. It would be different if I was there. If he was playing against me…”

  Oba fell silent as he imagined capturing Akori and seizing the throne of Egypt once more. He looked around the dark chamber with grim satisfaction. Columns of black stone, carved with ancient hieroglyphs of death and destruction, rose into the gloom. The fire gave the only light, sending curls of foul-smelling smoke around the room and causing sinister shadows to crawl across the walls.

  “When my army of the dead conquers Egypt I will take my palace back,” Oba hissed. “I will take back everything that belongs to me. I’ll teach that farm boy his proper place – chained up in my dungeon!”

  A loud crash interrupted Oba, shaking the floor beneath his feet. Scowling, he whirled around to see a tall, heavily muscled figure outlined against the fire. Oba’s ally, Set, Lord of Storms, stepped forward and bared his razor-sharp teeth.

  Oba shivered, fear leaving a trail of goosebumps across his skin. Annoyed at himself for being afraid, he snapped, “What is it?”

  The God crossed his arms across his chest and tilted his grotesque head to one side. His eyes were jet-black pools of evil.

  For a moment there was silence. Oba realized he had gone too far and his heart began to pound. Finally, Set spoke, his deep voice echoing eerily around the room. “You live because I wish you to live. Do not make me wish otherwise. Three times you have failed me, and my patience wears thin.”

  Oba gritted his teeth. “I am sorry, My Lord Set. I did not mean to offend you.”

  There was no reply. Set just glared at him as if he were an insect.

  “It is time,” the God said, eventually. “Akori will soon return to the Underworld. Is the trap ready?”

  Oba nodded. “Yes,” he said, eagerly. “This time I’ll deal with Akori once and for all. This time, he will die.” A hungry smile spread across his face. “And I cannot think of anything that will bring me more pleasure.”

  “A pleasure we will share,” said Set with a low, menacing growl.

  Sunlight streamed into a walled courtyard within the Pharaoh’s palace, sparkling on a pool of clear, cool water. Close by, beneath the leafy shade of a persea tree, the chief servant placed three goblets of grape juice and a dish of water on a stone table.

  “Thank you,” Akori said, looking up from the seega board and giving the servant a grateful smile.

  “Your Majesty is welcome,” the servant replied with a bow. “If there is anything else you need…”

  “I’m fine, unless you can give me some help winning this game.”

  A smile flickered across the chief servant’s face. “I am sure Your Majesty needs no help to defeat his opponents,” he said.

  “If only that were true,” groaned Akori, gazing at the board.

  “Ha, you might have beaten me before, but this game is mine,” grinned Manu, opposite. He moved a red counter forwards with a click. “Surrounded in three places,” he smirked, removing three of Akori’s blue counters.

  The former High Priest of Horus, who sat next to Manu, smiled.

  “The game’s not over yet,” Akori replied. Leaning forwards, he studied the board closely. He had twelve of his blue counters left. Manu had sixteen and his position was much stronger – one of his counters was in place to take yet another piece. Akori moved it to safety.

  Quick as a flash, Manu moved a different stone. “Another two blues to me,” he said. “Looks like I’m going to break your winning streak at last.”

  “My old pupil learns fast,” said the old High Priest of Horus. He looked thin and frail, but his lined face was lit by an inner strength. Ever since the evil God Set and demon-boy Oba had begun their campaign of revenge, he had been one of Akori’s most trusted advisors. Akori didn’t know what he would do without the old man’s wisdom and experience.

  With a purr, an elegant pale cat jumped onto the table. For a moment she lapped at the dish of water while peering at the board. Then she looked up at Akori, and mewed pitifully, before jumping to the floor and sitting at his feet expectantly.

  “Great, Ebe thinks I’m going to lose too,” sighed Akori.

  “Your mind is clouded,” said the old priest. “You move your pieces too quickly and pay no attention to Manu’s strategy.”

  Akori glanced up, amazed as always that the old man sensed so much despite his blind eyes. “It’s hard to concentrate, knowing that in a few hours, when the sun sets, we’ll be going back to the Underworld,” he replied. “Who knows what traps Oba
has set for us this time?” He ran his fingers across the three gems that glittered on the collar of his golden armour. Each of the Pharaoh Stones held a certain power – courage, speed and strength. He had won them from Gods who had taken Oba’s side. But only when he had collected all five of the gems could he hope to defeat Oba and Set, and release Osiris, the real ruler of the Underworld, from the terrible prison Set had made for him. Until then, Oba reigned in the Underworld and was building an army of the dead to send against Egypt.

  Akori had challenged Manu to play seega in the hope of forgetting about his impending quest for an hour or two. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to the dangers of the Underworld and the Gods he had battled there. Akori’s jittery mood wasn’t caused by fear, but by frustration. All the time he was sitting around playing games, Oba was growing in power. With every passing hour he became a bigger threat to Egypt.

  I should be doing something, Akori thought to himself. Anything but sitting here.

  “Where’s Horus? Why hasn’t he…?” Akori fell silent as the old High Priest held up his thin, bony hand.

  “I understand that your soul burns to defeat Oba and Set and make Egypt safe,” the old man said. “But the quest before you is like this game of seega. You must keep your mind cool. See your enemy’s moves before he makes them. In your impatience you make foolish mistakes. When this happens on the seega board you will only lose a game, but if you do not think clearly in the Underworld…well, then you will lose your life.” Despite the seriousness of his words, a smile suddenly lit up the old man’s face. “You cannot travel to the Underworld before sunset. Until then, a wise man would enjoy the sunshine and the company of friends.”

  Akori frowned. “Sorry,” he murmured. “But it is difficult to relax when your kingdom is under threat from an insane murderer who is about to unleash an army of the dead.”

  “Clear your mind,” the old priest repeated with a wry smile. “Worry serves no useful purpose. It only brings confusion.”

  Closing his eyes with a sigh, Akori lifted his face to the blazing Egyptian sun, which filtered through the leafy shade of the tree. He felt its warmth burning away his frustration. The old priest was right. There was nothing he could do about Oba right now and there were still a few hours left before he had to travel to the Underworld. Why not enjoy the afternoon?

  “Clear your mind all you like,” he heard Manu say. “I’m still going to win this…” His voice trailed off into a gasp.

  Suddenly, the warmth on Akori’s face disappeared. He opened his eyes and looked around. He could scarcely believe it. He closed his eyes and opened them again. But it was true. Everything had changed.

  The world had been plunged into darkness. The sun had vanished and the sky was as black as coal. Not even a single star lit the unnatural night.

  This can’t be right, Akori thought, jumping to his feet. I must have fallen asleep. I have to be dreaming…

  For almost a minute the world seemed to hold its breath. Then, from somewhere in the palace, came a scream. Another joined it. Then another.

  “The sun has gone out. It is the end of the world!” a woman’s voice shrieked.

  “Dead, we’re all dead. Anubis is coming for us,” a man yelled.

  “Horus have mercy,” another man wept.

  Keep a cool head, Akori told himself firmly, even though his heart was pounding. You are the Pharaoh. Whatever has happened it is up to you to solve it. He looked down at Manu and the old priest. “Somehow, Ra’s sun-barge has been pulled out of the sky,” he said, trying to sound calm. “And I know of only one person who would do such a thing.”

  Ebe jumped onto his shoulder, hissing.

  Manu looked up at Akori, his face pale in the darkness. “Oba,” he said, his voice wavering.

  “Your Majesty,” the chief servant cried, rushing into the courtyard. “What has happened? Where is the sun? Is the world truly ending?”

  Even in the darkness, Akori could see that he was trembling violently. He placed his hand on the servant’s shoulder. “The world is not ending, not if I have anything to do with it. But dark forces are at work. I need you to keep the staff calm while I find out how to stop them. Do you think you can do that?”

  The chief servant recovered himself. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head. “You can count on me.”

  “I know,” replied Akori, squeezing the man’s shoulder. “Tell them that every lamp and torch must be lit. I want the people in the city outside to see the palace blazing with light. Tell them their Pharaoh will return the sun to Egypt. All will be well soon.”

  “What are we going to do?” Manu asked nervously as the servant rushed off to carry out his orders.

  “We’ll go to the palace shrine,” Akori told him. “Horus will guide us.”

  “Now you are thinking clearly,” said the old priest, rising to his feet.

  Akori led the way through the palace’s passages towards the shrine, trying to control his own fear. If Oba was able to snatch the sun from the sky, his power was even greater than Akori had thought. He shivered. The dark seemed to be closing in on him, bringing with it the cold of a desert night. Could it also bring an attack by Oba and the undead?

  Before long, the chief servant’s orders spread around the palace and the screams died down. Ahead of Akori, dark passages began to glow with light as servants scurried from lamp to lamp. Then finally, he saw the great doors of the palace shrine.

  As Akori pushed the doors open, darkness seemed to roll out in a wave. Taking a blazing torch from the wall, he entered the great hall, striding past carved columns towards the massive statue of falcon-headed Horus. The old priest, Ebe and Manu followed.

  “Lord Horus,” he heard Manu whisper behind him. “Hear our prayers. Evil magic threatens all Egypt. Help your champion bring back the sun.”

  “Guide us through the darkness and give me the strength to stop Oba,” Akori added. He held up the torch. Shadows flickered across the face of the statue, making it look as if it was moving.

  Akori’s eyes widened. The statue was moving. The stone was coming alive!

  There was a thunderous roar like an earthquake ripping through stone as the great falcon-headed God stepped from the statue. “Light!” Horus commanded. His voice shook the great columns.

  At once the air shimmered with golden rays. Akori gazed up at the God. Horus was so gigantic that his head was almost touching the ceiling high above. Akori barely came up to the great God’s knee. Lowering his torch, he bowed. “Lord Horus, help me. The sun is gone. If we cannot bring it back the crops will fail. People will starve. Already, they are terrified.”

  Horus looked down at him, his eyes glowing gold. “Some of the great Gods have been tricked into joining Oba and Set,” he boomed. “You have beaten three of them, and won three of the Pharaoh Stones. To win the fourth you must battle an enemy greater than any you have yet faced, for only Apep has the power to capture the Sun God.”

  Akori felt the blood drain from his face. Even though he wasn’t a great scholar like Manu, he had heard of Apep. Everyone had. At the end of every day, as Ra’s barge sank towards the Underworld where it would spend the night, Apep, the great Snake God, attacked. The priests said that if Apep ever defeated Ra, darkness would fall across the world for ever.

  “But how did he do it?” Manu asked, stepping forward to stand beside Akori. “Apep can only attack when Ra’s barge enters the Underworld. The sun disappeared in the middle of the afternoon, when it was still high in the sky.”

  Horus turned his great head to look at Manu. “Every day that my father, Osiris, the rightful ruler of the Underworld, remains in Set’s prison, Oba’s power grows stronger,” he explained. “He must have broken the spells that kept Apep in the Underworld and released him to attack Ra.”

  Akori saw pain in Horus’s face when he mentioned his father. He imagined how he would feel if Oba and Set had captured someone he loved – Manu or Ebe or the old High Priest – and he became mor
e determined than ever to stop Oba.

  “Lord Horus,” he said, firmly. “I will release your father. I will fight Oba and Set with every last breath in my body.”

  Horus looked down on him. “I thank you, my champion. But first you must release Ra and win the fourth Pharaoh Stone. Without all five Stones your quest is lost.”

  Akori’s hand reached down, touching the hilt of the curved khopesh sword that hung at his side. Coloured light glittered from the Pharaoh Stones in the collar of his magical armour. “Then I will return to the Underworld as soon as possible,” he said quietly.

  Manu nodded thoughtfully. “Since the sun will not set today, could we go now?” he asked. “You’re ready, aren’t you, Ebe?”

  Ebe twined herself around Akori’s legs, purring.

  Akori couldn’t help smiling. What had he done to deserve friends like these? Knowing they were by his side gave Akori courage that even a Pharaoh Stone couldn’t match.

  “I can help you on your way,” boomed Horus, interrupting Akori’s thoughts. “But I must warn you, Apep is a terrible foe. When you stand before him, you will need more than courage or speed or strength to save you.”

  Akori gripped the hilt of his khopesh tightly as Horus’s words sank in. Even the Pharaoh Stones he had won would not be enough to defeat the mighty Snake God Apep. He bowed his head. “Whatever it takes, I vow to you, Lord Horus, I will not fail.”

  “Destiny has given me a fine champion.” Horus’s voice was full of pride. He bent down, opening one massive hand. “Take this scroll from Thoth, God of Wisdom. It will aid you.”

  Akori took a yellowed scroll from Horus’s palm. “How do we get to the Underworld now that the sun has gone?” he asked.

  Horus’s falcon head tilted to one side. “The barriers between the worlds of the dead and the living are weakening,” he said. “Oba and Set will tear them down completely when they send their army against you. Already it becomes easier to slip through the seams. But you can use this to your advantage. Enter the Underworld using the secret doorway created by the Dark Pharaoh, as you did on your last quest. But you will not need a spell to open the door this time. The borders of the Underworld are so fragile that the words on this scroll should transport you straight there.”