3-in-1: Zet and the Egyptian Mystery Cases

by Scott Peters

  The morning passed swiftly, with much talk and laughter. Baby Apu crawled around, gurgling his delight at all the happy people.

  Finally, the Royal Mother said it was time for her to get back to her son at the Palace.

  Zet helped her up.

  "My son and I will be forever grateful," she said, squeezing his hands.

  The family went outside to see her off. People crowded the streets, unable to believe a Royal visitor had come to the house of a market family. They watched in awe as Zet and Kat and their mother said goodbye.

  Seated in the litter, the Royal Mother took Zet and Kat's hands in her small, wrinkled ones.

  "I know you suffered great struggles. But you did the right thing. I will never forget this. And neither will my son."

  Zet watched her go, barely able to believe that the kind woman they'd shared lunch with was the same great lady who rode in a litter surrounded by dozens of guards.

  He trailed after his family, up the steps and into the front room.

  "What's that?" he asked his mother, seeing a box near the front door.

  "The Great Mother brought it for you. I don't know, I'd forgotten all about it."

  "I wonder what it is?" He and Kat went to it and knelt before it.

  The box was beautifully carved, inlaid with gold and turquoise and bore the Pharaoh's mark.

  "This box must be worth a fortune!" Zet said.

  "Open it," Kat cried.

  And he did. He lifted the lid and gasped. On top was a small piece of papyrus, with a neatly printed note. Beneath the note lay a shining mound of deben. Kat took out the note and read it.

  "For goods lost in the line of duty. Please accept with our thanks," she read. "And it's signed by Pharaoh himself!"

  Zet thought of the man he'd seen with the dark eyes, and closed his own eyes in thanks.

  Their business was saved. Pharaoh knew, and understood. He'd taken the time to find out what Zet had gone through, and what he'd lost. And what lay inside this box was beyond generous. They could easily buy back their pots. And they wouldn't have to worry about starving for a long time.

  "Goods lost in the line of duty?" his mother said.

  "Uh . . ." Zet looked at his sister. "Do you want to explain?"

  "No way!" she said.

  They both turned to their mother, who was studying their faces.

  "All right children. Just what goods, exactly, are we talking about?"

  And so they told her about the stall, and even about the three favorite bowls he'd lost in the chase. It's true, she was upset, but in the end they organized a wonderful trip down river to visit the village where the potters made their beautiful wares.

  It took several boats to bring their haul back to town.

  The stall looked incredible when it was done. Everything was new and fresh.

  They even had little toys made of clay.

  "I'm so glad everything's back to normal, aren't you?" Zet asked his sister.

  "That's for sure," she said. "I hope nothing like that happens ever again. Don't you?"

  At that moment, a medjay ran into square. His insignia shone at his throat, and his sword and club banged at his hip. He looked this way and that, and then beelined for the stall.

  "Are you the boy called Zet?"

  "I am."

  "Merimose sent me. He wondered if you'd like to make a little extra deben?"

  Zet and Kat glanced at each other.

  Zet shrugged at his sister, and was unable to keep the grin from his face. "It couldn't hurt, if it's for a good cause, right?"

  She rolled her eyes. "May the gods protect us."

  "Hurry!" the man said.

  "I'm on my way," Zet replied. And together, they took off into the sunlit afternoon.

  Author's Note

  Mystery of the Egyptian Scroll is a work of fiction. While none of the characters mentioned actually existed, the setting is very much as it would have been during the time when this book was set. Little remains of the old city of Thebes, beyond the great monuments. Certain places however, such as the Temple of Amenemopet with its forest of stone pillars, can actually be visited today.

  The Egyptians kept very good notes. They loved to write things down. Using their records, we can imagine what life was like—from their clothing to the marketplaces, from their foods to their customs. Most families kept a household shrine and Bastet was a popular household god. Citizens did not visit temples in the way churches are visited today. Only priests were allowed inside. The Hearing Ear shrines were a great way for people to make requests of their gods.

  The medjay began as additional troops during wartime, but evolved into a more regular police force. Crimes were tried in court, as they are today, but the punishments could often be brutal. The best a thief could hope for was the loss of a hand. The worst was burning at the stake, a terrible fate for an Egyptian; they believed that destroying their body in this way meant that they would not go on to lead an afterlife.

  ***

  Zet and the

  Egyptian Amulet

  Mystery

  Case 2

  Scott Peters

  Chapter One

  Snaggletooth

  Twelve-year-old Zet stood outside a tall, narrow gate in the artisan quarter of Thebes. Time had blackened the metal with soot and age. It had taken human hands, however, to sharpen the tops of the bars into knife-like blades. Zet studied them a moment.

  They'd be hard to climb over without getting ripped up pretty bad.

  All around him, late afternoon shadows crouched low and dark. The dank smell of a leather tannery drifted from somewhere nearby, tugging at his stomach. It smelled like old urine. He tried breathing through his mouth. It didn't help.

  "Hello!" he shouted through the gate.

  No one answered.

  He rattled the handle. Locked.

  "Hello?" he shouted again.

  It was hard to imagine his best friend Hui locked up in this creepy place. Locked up probably wasn't the right word, since Hui was there as a jeweler's apprentice. Still, it seemed like a jail, with its big, ugly unmarked entry.

  Zet had been angry the whole way through town. You'd think Hui could've answered at least one of his letters in six months. Sure, Hui was probably busy. But that busy? Who forgets their best friend just because they land an important position at the Kemet Workshop?

  He gave the bars a hard shake. It was still working hours. Where were these people? "Anyone home?"

  A big man lumbered into view on the far side of the gate. His shoulders almost filled the narrow entrance as he approached. He was stripped to the waist, and sweat stood out on his barrel-shaped chest.

  "Get away from here," he said.

  Shocked, Zet frowned. "Isn't this the Kemet Workshop?"

  "What's it to you?"

  "I'm looking for a friend. He's an apprentice here."

  "Apprentices don't get visitors. So beat it."

  "But I just—"

  "Beat it!" the hulk of a man said.

  When Zet didn't move, the man cracked his meaty fingers. He took a key that hung from a loop on his leather belt and unlocked the gate. Zet stepped back a foot or two, but the man grabbed his arm and twisted Zet into a headlock.

  "Makes a funny noise," the man said. "When your neck breaks. Crunch-like."

  "I get it," Zet managed, seeing stars. "Let go."

  The man spun him lose with a laugh, and Zet slammed face first into the dirt. Zet got to his feet, furious but trying not to show it. What would be the point? It was obvious the man would win any fight.

  The man grinned, showing a set of jagged teeth. "We don't like snoops."

  "I wasn't snooping. Just tell my friend Hui I was looking for him."

  "Hui, huh?"

  Immediately, Zet wished he hadn't said it. What if he got Hui in trouble?

  Snaggletooth went inside and slammed the gate shut and locked it. "Hui," he repeated with a nod. "I'll tell him."

  The thug walk
ed away, knuckles cracking as he ground them into his fist. Zet swallowed and watched him go.

  Something strange was going on behind that gate. Maybe there was a reason Hui hadn't answered. Zet wanted to climb over the knife-like bars, sneak past the guard and find him. But the workshop was probably a maze of rooms and corridors.

  And who knew how many other Snaggletooth-like men lurked back there?

  Running a hand over his short-cropped hair, he let out a frustrated breath. It took all his determination to turn his back on that gate, on Hui, and head for home.

  Chapter Two

  Missing Orders

  The next morning, Zet walked to work in a grim mood. The sun god spilled his rays over the rooftops as Zet wound through the narrow streets. He said nothing to his little sister, Kat, about last night's eerie visit to the Kemet workshop.

  Still, she plodded along looking equally gloomy.

  A woman stepped onto her front stoop, holding a broom. She shook it out. Dust rose in the still air.

  "Good morning!" she called.

  "Morning," Kat said.

  "Got to get things clean and ready for the Opet Festival," she said.

  "Right!" Zet said, trying to sound cheerful. Her words, however, made sweat prickle on his neck. Sure he was worried about Hui, but he had another problem to deal with. And the problem kept growing worse.

  He and Kat ran the family pottery stall—ever since their father had gone to fight the Hyksos invaders. Up until now, they'd managed pretty well. But things were going downhill fast. People had ordered a large number of special dishes and bowls for the festival parties, and the orders hadn't come.

  Out of earshot, Kat spoke in a shaky voice. "Do you think the shipment arrived?"

  "It better have."

  "What if it hasn't? Our customers are really upset. They're saying things about us, like we can't keep up our end of the bargain."

  "It'll come," he said.

  "But it's been weeks! And like that woman said, the festival's almost here! People paid us in advance, Zet. They paid us a lot!"

  He groaned. "Tell me something I don't know!"

  They reached the familiar marketplace. They were early, and none of the other vendors had arrived. The tented booths were still wrapped up, silent and deserted.

  All, that is, except theirs.

  Zet gulped. "Uh oh."

  Half a dozen women waited. Frowning. Arms crossed.

  Zet forced an uncomfortable smile.

  His gaze flicked hopefully from the women to the surrounding area. He surveyed the whole marketplace, praying to see a crate had been delivered during the predawn hours.

  But there was no crate.

  "Maybe we should run away," Kat whispered.

  He looked at her like she was crazy. "What, not open the stall? Come on, let's go."

  Moments later, the complaints were flying.

  "What was I thinking?" shouted a woman. "I never should have trusted a pair of silly little children!"

  "I planned three whole parties around the plates and platters I chose!" said another in a trembling voice. "I've had table linens made to match, and centerpiece flowers and everything." She looked like she was going to start crying.

  Anger Zet could handle, but tears were awful.

  "They'll be here," he said. "I promise."

  "For your sake, boy, I hope so," said the first. "Or I'll see you lose your stall for this."

  With that, she and the others left.

  To make matters worse, other vendors had arrived. They looked disgusted. They didn't want shady, unreliable businesses around.

  Zet's stomach clenched. Lose the stall? But they'd starve. Sure, he'd earned a big reward several months ago, but he'd spent almost all of it repairing the damage to their business. And he'd promised his father that he'd take care of his sister, his mother and his baby brother!

  His ears burned in shame. The thing is, everything the women said was true. They'd paid, and Zet hadn't delivered. The Opet Festival was just days away.

  What could have happened to delay the orders?

  On top of everything, he'd paid for them himself in advance to have them made!

  Zet set out clay pots and colorful plates in the sunlight. The sun god's rays gleamed in the glazed dishes. He dragged a vase forward; taller than his waist, it scraped across the paving stones as he hauled it front and center.

  His mind drifted from the stall's problems to Snaggletooth. Things might be bad here, but what was going on over at the Kemet workshop? Was his best friend, Hui, in trouble? Nothing about his visit the night before seemed normal. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Why would Snaggletooth put Zet in a headlock, just for asking to see his friend?

  He glanced over at Kat. Her cheeks were still bright red. One woman had called her a crook, and a whole lot of other mean things. Kat stood alone, plate in hand, polishing it carefully. Even from here, he knew her well enough to see she was shaken. Sure, he and his sister fought like crazy, but she definitely wasn't a crook.

  Kat really cared about making their customers happy. And so did he.

  Noon came. The air felt stifling. Heat radiated up from the paving stones. The droves of shoppers slowed to a bare trickle.

  "Kat!" Zet called, wiping his brow.

  His sister spun, black braids flying, a hopeful look in her dark eyes. Seeing his face, however, her look quickly faded.

  "Oh!" she said. "I thought—well, I thought you saw the delivery people coming or something."

  "No. I was just going to say we should go to the watersteps to eat."

  She brightened. "And we can check for the pottery guild's shipping boat."

  "Exactly."

  "Wait . . . I don't know if we should." She crossed her arms and got that super practical look of hers. "It could get busy quick."

  "We won't be gone that long," he said. "Come on, it will be nice and cool, and it would be good to relax."

  She groaned. "I know. But you go. I'll stay. We can't afford to lose any sales."

  "No! I'm in charge, and you're coming."

  Which was true, seeing that he was a year older. Not that he ever made a big deal out of the fact.

  "Thanks for the reminder, big brother," she said, rolling her eyes.

  "Just come on," he said. "We need a break."

  Kat glanced around the hot square. "Okay. But not for long."

  Together they quickly tied a few linen sheets over their wares. From the stall next door, Geb, the herb-vendor, watched them over his baskets. His woven containers held herbs and spices for cooking, medicine and dyes—deep red powders, and mustard yellow, and Zet's favorite, bright blue woad—all piled high and shaped into cones.

  When Zet and Kat picked up their lunch parcels and began to leave, the wizened old herb-seller shot them a surprised look.

  Zet colored.

  With their bad reputation growing, disappearing in the middle of the day was just making them look worse.

  "We're not going far," Zet said.

  "We're coming straight back!" Kat added.

  Geb nodded. But the old man didn't smile.

  Chapter Three

  No Recognition

  Kat twisted her braid as they exited down a shady lane that led to the Nile. Neither of them said anything about Geb's disapproval, not to mention the rest of the market vendors. More than one glare had come Zet's way.

  Clearly wanting to change the subject, Kat said, "Don't you think it's strange we still haven't heard from Hui?"

  Zet shot her a look. All he said was, "Yeah."

  "It's been six months. I'm sure they have scribes there. He could have at least dictated a message! You know, like, 'hello, I'm having fun making jewelry, and I have a million new friends, so I won't be writing to you anymore', or something."

  Zet was silent.

  Somehow, he doubted friends had anything to do with Hui not writing.

  "I've sent him seven letters," she said.

  Which didn't
surprise Zet. She'd actually been glad when their father hired a boring old writing tutor. And she'd actually paid attention. Then again, boring or not, unlike most people, Kat could write, and fairly well.

  "They were long letters, too," she said.

  At this, he couldn't help a small grin. "They would be."

  "What? What's that supposed to mean?"

  Zet glanced at his little sister's red face. "Someone has a crush!" he sang.

  "I do not!" Kat said, punching his arm.

  "Ow!" He laughed and leaped sideways. "Kat likes Hui!"

  The bright patches on her cheeks deepened. "Quit it!"

  "Okay, okay!"

  Kat glared at him.

  "Truce! Forget I said anything about Hui!" He pointed ahead. "Look, there's the river. Come on, let's see if the boat's there."

  A broad avenue ran along the river's edge. Here and there, wide steps led down to the water. People milled about. A musician sat plucking out a tune on a lute. Two men played a game of Senet, while a third watched.

  The Nile sparkled, all full of bobbing birds and floating watercraft. Some boats ferried goods, and others carried passengers.

  But the one boat they wanted to see wasn't there.

  They stood in the shadow of a large Sphinx statue. Zet frowned at the spot where the potters usually tied up to unload their goods. He wished, by force of will alone, he could imagine the potters' boat into existence.

  Suddenly, Kat gasped. "Look!"

  At her tone, Zet's head snapped to where she was pointing.

  A small boat held four people. In the back, poling them downriver, stood a huge, scary looking thug: Snaggletooth. In the front stood a second guard. A padded seating area filled the boat's midsection. In it lounged a man in a gold edged tunic. And beside the richly dressed man, sitting bolt upright, was none other than Hui.

  Zet stared, unable to believe his eyes.

  Hui looked different. Stiff and formal—completely unlike the joker Zet once knew.