Valley of Kings
Page 14
Luke’s arm was bent uncomfortably behind his back, held there by one of The Order’s thugs. Peshwar stood in front of him outside the tomb.
“Listen, Peshwawa, or whatever — I did what you wanted,” he said.
“You have failed us,” she said in her harsh, sandpaper voice. “Again.”
“What?” he said. “I … I mean, sure, I had to do a few things to ‘gain their trust’ — just like you said — but I still … I mean, that dude on the train was unconscious when I got there.”
“I am not talking about that, though of course you are lying,” she said, her English just as proficient, and emotionless, as her Arabic. “Your shout was badly timed. It gave them time to get back into the tomb and escape … for now.”
“Hey,” said Luke. “My job was to give you information — or give you Alex. I tried. It’s not my fault if you dropped the ball.”
She slapped him hard across the face. The surprise was more jarring than the pain — though that was no picnic. He tried to shake free, but the thug tightened his grip. That hurt, too.
“Let him go,” said Peshwar.
“Yeah!” said Luke, shaking out his arm dramatically once the man released it. “That’s more like it.” He turned to Peshwar. “So, what’s next?”
She considered him silently and then said: “You run, little boy. That’s what’s next.”
Luke looked into the black skull sockets that hid her eyes, and suddenly he understood. It took him a little longer than it would have taken most people, maybe, but now he got it. The others were gone. He was no use to The Order anymore. And with his cover blown, he never would be.
“This is your pay,” said the lioness. “The chance to save yourself.”
Without another word or another look, Luke spun around and sprinted across the valley floor. He’d had years of training and he did everything right: perfect posture, optimal stride length …
It didn’t matter.
The valley floor in front of him lit up rose-red.
He lengthened his stride, leaning forward as if lunging for the finish line — and he was finished, all right. The energy dagger sank into his back with a dull crackling sound and a pain more intense than he’d ever imagined possible.
He fell to the hard desert ground, full-speed and face-first, like a gazelle gunned down midstride.
Evil thoughts flitted around Todtman, murderous urges so intense they almost seemed to have physical form. He fended them off as best he could, his hand on his amulet and the rubber tip of his cane punching the concrete floor of the warehouse as he moved briskly along one wall.
Somewhere beneath this massive building was The Order’s headquarters. He was sure of it, but as he made his way through the shadowy space, he stopped short.
It wasn’t a doorway or a guard that had caught his attention.
It was five massive blocks of stone, each nearly twice as tall as him and weighing tons. He examined the first of them. The surface was carved but weathered, thousands of years of sandy desert winds rounding the edges. And then, in one corner, he saw a more deliberate incursion.
The stone had been chipped away — sculpted. The shape emerging was unmistakable. A massive, muscular arm, as thick as a tree trunk, and at the end …
A hand, thought Todtman. But such a hand. A stone hand so large and strong that it looked as if it could control an entire world.
An evil thought slipped into his mind, whether from without or within, it was impossible to say: That is exactly what this monstrous thing is being built to do.
Michael Northrop has written short fiction for Weird Tales, the Notre Dame Review, and McSweeney’s. His first young adult novel, Gentlemen, earned him a Publishers Weekly Flying Start citation for a notable debut, and his second, Trapped, was an Indie Next List selection. NPR picked Michael’s middle-grade novel Plunked for their Backseat Book Club. He has also written about a rescued Rottweiler in Rotten and, most recently, some treacherous seas in Surrounded By Sharks. An editor at Sports Illustrated Kids for many years, Michael now writes full-time from his home in New York City. Visit him online at www.michaelnorthrop.net.
You’ve read the book—now awaken the adventure at Scholastic.com/TombQuest!
Create a tomb, fill it with traps and treasure, and challenge your friends.
Have your ebook ready and enter the code to unlock huge rewards!
RCTK6XNRW2
Copyright © 2015 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, TOMBQUEST, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014959843
First edition, August 2015
Cover art by Michael Heath. Aten art by Jacey @ début art. Frames by Charice Silverman. All art © Scholastic Inc.
Art direction by Keirsten Geise.
e-ISBN 978-0-545-72347-3
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.