Diedrich shook his head. “Egypt is below the Equator, so the Nile flows south to north, into the delta and the Mediterranean Sea. Upriver is actually south, called Upper Egypt.”
“And the North is Lower, because it’s down river,” Megan finished, impatient. “I get it. No more dawdling, keep moving, before they get farther ahead than they already are.”
They pushed the camels into a gallop across the blistering sand. Megan’s throat was parched, her tongue felt like sandpaper. The sun beat down on them, merciless. How she wished they would find another oasis! How long can a person live without water?
“How far ahead do you think they are?” she called to Diedrich.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t see them up ahead, but they could be between dunes, in a valley. The camels can’t keep this speed up much longer, though. We’re going to have to slow down.”
“I hope we catch them soon, or come to a shelter,” Claire said, her knuckles white as she clutched her camel’s reins. She bounced roughly in the saddle. Twice already Megan thought Claire would be thrown, but she managed to stay atop the animal.
“Why?” Megan asked.
“Because once the sun goes down, it’s going to get cold.”
“In the desert? How can it get cold in the desert?”
“Sand doesn’t hold heat like regular soil. When the sun sets, the temperature drops, fast. Without wood to make a fire or shelter or warm clothes, we could conceivably freeze out here. Assuming that conditions here in the story are the same as in the real world. Which I do, based on our previous experience.”
Megan’s shoulders and heart sank together. “Great, just freaking great.” She spurred her camel on.
The desert seemed endless. Miles and miles more the three of them traveled, still following the tracks of their quarry. Their shadows stretched out beside them—the sun painted the sand in stripes of pink, orange and red. Still nothing—not a building, a tree or people.
This stupid desert goes on forever, I just know it. Megan watched a snake, mottled brown to match the sand, wind its way up and over a dune sideways, while a scorpion scuttled across her path. Vultures circled above them.
Hope they’re not waiting for us. Megan’s arm broke out in goose bumps and she shivered. It wasn’t only at the thought of vultures eating her carcass—the air had become chilly. It felt like bad sunburn, hot and cold at the same time.
Next to her, Claire gripped her camel’s reins with one hand, and kept the other crossed over her chest. She rubbed her upper arm briskly.
“This is crazy,” Megan said, and her upper lip cracked and bled. “We’re either going to die of dehydration or frostbite.”
“Neither,” Diedrich said. He and his camel were stopped at the crest of a high dune. “Come and see.”
Megan and Claire pulled up beside him and gasped. The desert sloped away from them and into a line of scraggly grass. Beyond the grass was more sand, but it glistened in the dying sunlight, as if it were damp. A beach. And then the sea, sparkling like a polished aquamarine as it stretched away to meet the horizon, which was quickly becoming bathed in twilight. Palms and flowering plants waved to them along the shore, and the scent of jasmine tickled Megan’s nose. If she hadn’t known better, she would think she was looking at the travel brochure from some tropical paradise.
The trail cut a straight line toward the water. Megan shaded her eyes with her hands and squinted. It was hard to see after being blinded by the sun for so long. Spots danced across her vision.
She scanned the shoreline. “I don’t see them.”
“One camel moves faster than three trying to stay together,” Claire said.
“Not if two people ride on it,” Diedrich said. “They couldn’t have gotten that far ahead.”
“Assuming they’re both on one camel,” Megan said.
“Regardless, we should keep following the trail,” Claire said. “I’ll bet those tracks go right to the water. They must have been as hot as we are.”
Megan swallowed, and there was a dry click in her throat. “And as thirsty.”
Claire gave her a guarded look. “Meg, uh, I wouldn’t…”
Megan kicked her camel hard. With a disgruntled cry, it raced down the dune toward the sea. She jumped from the saddle almost before the camel stopped, and ran to the shore. She scooped up a handful of water and—
“Ugh, gross.” She spat the water back out. “Salt water.”
“I tried to warn you,” Claire said. Her camel sauntered over next to where Megan was trying to get the taste out of her mouth and nudged her.
“I didn’t even think about it,” Megan sputtered. “I was just so thirsty. I guess this is supposed to be the Mediterranean?”
Diedrich dismounted and walked to the girls. His body shook with laughter. “Did that taste good?”
Megan kicked water at him. She looked up and down the shore. “I don’t see any footprints. Where did they go once they left here?”
“If they were headed to Byblos, they have to go that way.” Diedrich pointed up the shore to the right. “If they stayed near the water, the sea’s washed away the footprints by now.”
“What, do you have a map in your pocket?” Claire said. She looked at the wrap around his waist and gave a mischievous smile. “Oh, no pockets. Sorry.”
Diedrich smirked. “Ha ha. No, I don’t, obviously, but I’ve been looking at maps of Egypt my whole life.” He shook his head. “The real Egypt, I mean. It’s still hard to wrap my head around being inside a book. Byblos should be northeast of here, on the other side of the Delta.”
“It’ll be dark soon,” Megan said. “We should get going, and find somewhere to camp.” She shook the remaining droplets from her hands. The sea breeze, which should have been refreshing, only added to her gooseflesh. “It’s really getting cold. And we need some fresh water.”
Chapter Ten: The Book of the Dead
They picked up the trail again, in the damp sand just out of the sea’s reach. It was now obvious they were chasing one camel. Megan kept an eye out around them, in case Hemmlich ditched Rachel somewhere so he could go on alone. Darkness crept in and made it hard to see, but before the veil of night was down completely they came across what looked like an abandoned fishing village.
There were five small huts, all made of off-white bricks of dried mud. The roofs of each, possibly made from palm fronds, had long since decayed, leaving the huts open to the elements.
With the camels secured to a tree, the three young people had explored the place in only a few moments.
“Hey, look what I found.” Claire came out of one hut carrying a pile of rough woven blankets. “They were piled in a corner.”
Megan held up one and looked at Claire through the hole in the middle. “I guess it’s better than nothing.”
Inside another, Diedrich found a well. Fortunately it still held clear, fresh water. Each of them gratefully drank their fill directly from the bucket that came with the well, which was surrounded by a short wall.
“What are these?” Megan lifted up one of a series of gourds that hung from the wall. Each had a corked hole in the top.
“Canteens, I imagine,” Claire said, water running down the front of her dress. “The fishermen needed fresh water while out on the boats.”
They decided to settle in the largest hut. It was warmer inside, but not much. At least they were out of the way of the breeze, which had built into a steady wind that hummed outside and threatened to chill them all to the bone.
They built a fire in the center of the hut. The fallen roofing was dry—perfect for burning. Megan had been impressed by Diedrich’s ability to spark the fire by banging a couple of rocks—pieces of a crumbling wall—together.
Still hungry, but feeling much better, Megan picked up the Book of the Dead and flipped through it. She looked at the rows of hieroglyphs and pictures and wished again that the translation had made it through to this side. It was a long book, and she hated the t
hought of Diedrich being their only way of reading it if they needed it. She trusted him—not sure anymore why she hadn’t in the first place—but if something happened to him… She pushed the thought away.
“Don’t read from the book,” Diedrich muttered into her ear.
“Huh?”
“The Book of the Dead. Isn’t that what they say in all the movies? You’ll raise the mummy or some nonsense?”
Megan tilted her head to one side. “It’s a book of spells, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but not spells like you think. More like prayers for the dead, meant to guide the soul into the underworld.” Diedrich sat next to her and took the book. “It’s really a story, a guide for the soul’s trip to the Fields of Peace. Some call it The Book of Going Forth by Day. Spirits could come out of their tombs and walk among the living by day, but had to be back before sunset.”
Claire wrapped her blanket around her and sat across from Megan and Diedrich. “Sounds intriguing,” she said. “Quite the opposite of what most people believe now—ghosts only come out at night and all.”
Diedrich laid the book across his lap and turned to the second page. “Not really. Most ghost stories are about restless spirits. An Egyptian who couldn’t enter the underworld was doomed to walk the earth for eternity. So his soul would wander at night. So it’s kind of the same thing.”
“How do you know all this?” Megan asked.
“I told you, I love mythology. My father and I agree on one thing—Egyptian mythology is one of the most fascinating.” Diedrich flipped to another page and pointed to a line of writing. “This part of the book is all about the mummification process. It tells how many days the body should lay out, and what mixtures of herbs to use, blah, blah, blah. Boring.”
“Did they really pull all the organs out of a body?” Megan asked. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought. “I heard that somewhere.”
Diedrich nodded. “They took out the liver, stomach, intestines and brain and put them all in jars, called canopic jars. Most of the ones I’ve seen are very beautiful, and expensive. Painted in gold and crusted with jewels.”
“I don’t want to know how they took out your brain,” Megan said.
Diedrich leaned in close and gave her a wicked grin. “They pulled it out in big chunks though the nose.”
Megan groaned and clutched her stomach.
“I would have thought they would remove the heart as well,” Claire said. “It’s a big organ.”
“No, that they left in, and there’s a very important reason for it.” Diedrich turned a few pages, and showed Megan one with pictures of a man with a dog’s head, and another with a bird’s head. “Here it is. Once the body was properly mummified, the soul, they called it the Ka, would travel by boat through the land of the dead and into the Hall of Judgment. All the gods were gathered in the Hall, and Osiris presides over the proceedings. See, that’s Osiris, the one with the two staffs that looks like a mummy.”
“Who’s the dog-faced man?” Megan asked.
“Anubis, God of Mummification.”
“Ick.”
“No, he was one of the most important gods,” Diedrich said. Right up there with Osiris.
“It all sounds very formal,” Claire said. “How do you judge a soul?”
Diedrich stood the book up on its edge and showed it to the girls, like a person reading a story to children. “See that?” He pointed to a small set of scales next to a man with a tall crown. “The Ka’s heart is put on one side of the scales, and the feather of Ma’at is placed on the other.”
“Who’s Ma’at?” Megan asked.
“The Goddess of Justice and Balance. If the heart is heavier than the feather, the soul would not be allowed to pass through to the afterlife.”
“That’s doesn’t sound too bad,” Megan said.
“Oh, but it was the most horrible fate an Egyptian could suffer. To the ancient Egyptians, moving to the afterlife was everything,” Diedrich said. “The basis of their whole civilization.”
“It’s all perfectly morbid, I think,” Claire remarked. She took the book and looked at the picture more closely. “What would happen to those who didn’t pass the test?”
Diedrich leaned in close to the fire. The flames threw his face into sharp relief; he looked very spooky. “Their hearts were fed to Ammut, a vicious demon, and the Ka would be lost, doomed to roam the earthly plane forever.”
Megan gave a nervous laugh. “Nothing like a good ghost story before bed.” She lay down on the floor and pulled her own blanket up over her. “Now I’ll have nightmares. Thanks, Diedrich.”
“Sorry. You did ask.” Diedrich and Claire had also lain down, and soon all of them dropped off, lulled to sleep by the white noise of the sea.
Megan threw the rough woven blanket off, got up and walked to the window. Something, a sound, had jolted her from her slumber. She hadn’t been sleeping well anyway. Megan turned from the window and watched her two friends, still sleeping deeply, and wondered how long she had slept. The fire was cold, and the moon hung low in the sky. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it around her shoulders before returning to the window. The remainder of the moonlight painted the ground with deep purple shadows. The sound that had woken her was a shuffling noise, like feet sliding through the sand. It was much colder than when she had gone to sleep, so she doubted any of the desert animals, like snakes or scorpions or lizards, were out and about. Still, she kept her ears open.
Megan’s stomach growled. They hadn’t found any food in the huts, and at the time she had been more than willing to settle for water and warmth. Now she wished she had something to eat, even a hard piece of bread would be welcome.
You know, you’re probably not the only hungry one out here. Do jackals or wolves live in the desert?
She swallowed hard, cautiously stuck her head out of the window and looked around, but saw nothing.
I probably imagined it. That story Diedrich told about souls being doomed to walk the earth or whatever. Now I’m hearing things. Mummies come to life, come to eat our brains. Rachel would say something like that.
Rachel. Megan looked at the watchful moon and said a silent prayer that she was all right. We’ll find you soon, Rache. I promise.
There it was again, that shuffling sound. Megan still couldn’t tell if it was a four-legged animal or something else. She scanned the compound again and froze—one of the shadows moved. A large shadow. It lurched between the well and another of the huts.
Megan wanted to wake Diedrich and Claire, but hesitated. What if she woke them and it was nothing but her imagination, or a stray dog, or something else harmless. She would watch for a while, and go and check it out herself if she thought it necessary.
She picked up a piece of leftover firewood and stood to one side of the open doorway. Trying to remain still, she took short, shallow breaths.
The shadow hung near the door to the well, curled into a ball. Whatever it was stood, and Megan held back a gasp. The shadow took the shape of a person, about as tall as Megan. Whoever it was stumbled inside the well building. She glanced at her friends—there wasn’t time to wake them. She needed to move if she wanted the element of surprise. Megan tightened her grip on the wood and crept across the compound.
The smell of enclosed dampness and minerals hit her nose as she approached the door of the well. She stopped just outside and listened—silence.
Ready or not, here I come.
Megan pressed her back against the doorframe and turned her head to look across the room to the far corner. No one was there.
I knew it, I imagined the whole thing.
To be sure, she turned around and leaned inside to see the front corner.
Something grabbed her elbow from behind and pulled her into the hut. Someone pressed their body against Megan’s.
“Please help me.”
Megan screamed. The wood dropped to the floor and bounced away. The person who had gripped her elbow spun her around and pushed her out
side, backward. She took three steps before she fell hard onto the sand. The shadowy figure loomed over her, ready to pounce. Megan, still screaming, pulled her legs back and got set to kick out as hard as she could.
“Megan? Megan, it’s me, stop screaming. And don’t you dare kick me.”
The person stepped out from the shadows and dropped down next to her. Megan saw a white dress and beaded collar like she wore. She looked up and focused on a familiar face. Long, dark hair with beads woven into it in, brown eyes, freckles that stood out on skin made pale by the moonlight.
“Rachel?” Megan hugged her friend and cried for joy. “Oh, Rachel, you’re all right.”
Rachel returned the hug, but it was weak. She pulled away and looked at Megan. Tears glinted in the corners of her eyes. “How? when?”
“Oh, come on, like we weren’t going to come after you.” Megan wiped her own eyes. “How did you get away from Hemmlich?”
“What’s going on out here?” Diedrich ran out of the shelter. Claire, rubbing her eyes, was right behind him. Diedrich looked at Megan, still on the ground. “We heard you scream.”
“All the mummies in Egypt heard you scream,” Claire said, and yawned. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fantastic,” Megan said. “Come here and see.”
Claire’s face lit up when she saw Rachel. The two girls hugged. “You look awful,” Claire said. She brushed Rachel’s hair away from her face. There was a bruise over one eye and several scratches along her cheeks and arms. Her wrists bore matching red marks, like burns.
“I’ve been running all night.” She looked at Diedrich, and her mouth twisted into a sneer. “Your father is mad, you know that?”
Diedrich’s face was blocked by shadow, so Megan couldn’t read it. “So I’m learning,” he said. “Sorry. I really had no idea.”
“Yeah, well,” Rachel said, not sounding like she believed him. She turned her attention to Megan and Claire. “He wants the Ankh of Isis.”
“We kind of figured that,” Megan said. “Where is he?”
Rachel gave a wistful look over her shoulder toward the well. “Can I get a drink first?”
The Ankh of Isis: The Library of Athena, Book 2 Page 10
