by P. J. Hoover
My gut reaction was to step back, but then my brain took over. I was not stepping back from whatever was behind this door. I was the Great Pharaoh Tutankhamun. I’d hunted jackals and ridden on the backs of rhinoceroses. I was more than capable of facing whatever dust bunnies the shabtis might have uncovered. I opened the door.
The light from my scarab heart bounced off the thing in front of me, and instantly I regretted it. It was about the size of a polar bear. I knew this because I’d just seen one at the zoo. Except unlike a cute little polar bear face, the thing in front of me had the head of a lion with bright white fangs popping out on either side of its ginormous mouth. Drool spilled from its black lips and dripped onto the concrete floor of the basement. Its tail stood straight up behind it. Actually, it wasn’t really a tail. It was a snake, which hissed as soon as it saw me.
The thing lifted its upper lip into a snarl, exposing two rows of terrifying teeth that could rip my arm off in one solid bite. Armless was not how I intended to spend the rest of my immortal life.
“What. Is. It?” I asked Colonel Cody, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t upset the monster. But it didn’t work because that’s when the ears on the thing perked up; they were at least a foot tall. With those ears, it could probably hear a grain of sand fall in the Potomac River from ten miles away.
“It appears to be a monster,” Colonel Cody said. He stood bravely at my feet, and with a small wave of his arm, the twenty battle shabtis moved forward, forming four rows of five. And though my shabtis were fierce when it came to protecting me, I was pretty sure this thing could step on them with its huge lion paws and crush them.
“What kind of mon—” I started, but I didn’t have time to finish, because the thing let out a huge roar that made my bones vibrate. Globby drool spewed from its mouth and drenched me. And then it pounced.
It jumped twenty feet from a sitting position and flew through the air. Luckily I still had scarab heart reflexes, so I leapt out of the way, vaulting through the air and landing on the opposite side of the basement.
I rooted around behind me, trying to find something I could use as a weapon. I didn’t dare take my eyes off the monster. My hand latched on to something, and I yanked hard, pulling it free. I held it out in front of me menacingly.
Colonel Cody said, “I’m not sure the toilet drainpipe is the best idea, Great Master.”
Smelly sewer water gushed around my feet. But the shabtis could fix the pipes later. I swung the pipe hard, right at the monster’s lion head. I swear it blinked out of existence, or else it was just really fast. In a split second it was ten feet to the right of where it had been and coming at me from the side.
“How is it so fast?” I said, and swung again. I hadn’t actually hit the monster, but the pipe did seem to keep it back.
“It appears to have special skills,” Colonel Cody said, stating the obvious.
“Skills! What is this monster?” With the way the thing kept flitting around, I had to keep changing directions.
“I’m certain that I don’t—” Colonel Cody said.
“Don’t say you don’t know,” I said. “Tell me. What am I fighting?” If I didn’t know what it was, I’d have no clue how to defeat it. As it was, I wasn’t sure that would help anyway. I let a bit more light escape from my heart, casting it on the monster. Maybe enough light would make it blind.
The light hit the monster, and instantly it stopped moving and closed its eyes. And then it sniffed the air, deep and steady, sucking in for a good thirty seconds. I know I could have swung the pipe at it in that moment, but something held me back.
“Colonel Cody,” I said, prompting the shabti.
“We can’t be completely certain,” Colonel Cody said.
“If you had to make an educated guess?”
Colonel Cody looked to the monster, still with its eyes closed, and then back at me. “Humbaba,” he said.
“Humbaba?” It sounded really familiar.
Colonel Cody nodded. “Humbaba. Guardian of the Cedar Forest. Destroyer of millions. Devourer of the living and the dead. Completely indestructible, at least according to our best translations of the Epic of—”
“The Epic of Gilgamesh!” I said. “Why is there a monster from the Epic of Gilgamesh in my basement?” Roaches. Spiders. Maybe even the occasional mushroom. These are things I would expect to find in my basement. Not mythological monsters intent on killing me.
It was about this time that Humbaba stopped sniffing at the air. His eyes flew open and fixed on me. He took a step forward. I gripped the pipe. I was in serious trouble here.
“Indestructible?” I asked Colonel Cody.
“Only so far,” Colonel Cody said. “But we believe in you, Great Master. We know you will find a way to vanquish the monster.”
At least one of us had confidence.
I wracked my brain, poring through everything Gil had ever told me about his history. He’d told me stories about his adventures before he met me. He’d battled gods and monsters alike. Gil was the most epic immortal the world had ever known. I vaguely remembered him mentioning this Humbaba monster, about trapping it, but I had no clue how to get rid of it.
I swung the pipe again, but this time, instead of moving around, Humbaba only stepped backward, out of the reach of the pipe. So I swung again. He jumped straight up in the air, and when he landed, his snake tail started wagging back and forth, like some kind of puppy dog’s. He let out another roar, but it sounded like an invitation instead of a threat. And then he grabbed hold of the pipe with his fangs and pulled at it, as if it were some kind of oversized puppy toy.
Power started building up in my fingertips. But what was I going to do? Grow some plants on him? That’s all my immortal skills had ever been good for before. Growing plants and summoning bugs. Plus my powers were flaky at best these days. A couple dozen cockroaches wouldn’t do much to vanquish this monster.
As the power in my fingertips grew, Humbaba’s eyes widened, and his tail started wagging faster. He let the pipe go. I was sure it was all some trick and that he was going to pounce on me and rip my head off at any second. I raised the pipe to swing again, but …
… I couldn’t do it. Humbaba looked too happy. So I threw the pipe backward over my head and I let the power flow.
Flames sprung from my fingertips and grew into a great ball of fire. I stared at it, not believing what I was seeing. I didn’t have power over fire. That was all Gil. He got it from his patron god, Nergal. Except Gil didn’t have that power anymore. I had his heart, and maybe, unless I was hallucinating, I had his powers, too.
I let the fireball grow until it was the size of a basketball, and then I pulled my right hand back and threw the fireball as hard as I could, directly through the open door.
Humbaba took off, chasing after the fireball, moving so fast I lost sight of him in under a second.
“Good boy,” I said, and then I turned my sights to Colonel Cody.
He shrank under my gaze.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I asked, and then I shook my head. “Never mind. I’m going to shower first.” I was covered head to toe in toilet water and monster drool.
“A very, very wise plan,” Colonel Cody said, nodding agreeably. But he looked everywhere except right at me, like he didn’t want to make eye contact, and I knew he was hiding something.
4
WHERE THE SHABTIS TRY TO BURN ME ALIVE
Colonel Cody summoned Lieutenant Roy to the basement to lead the cleanup effort and to fix the pipe. I stumbled back up the stairs in my townhouse. I knew there was a reason I never went into the basement.
“Great Master, we have a wonderful idea,” Colonel Cody said no sooner than we had walked into the family room.
“Does it involve my shower?” I asked, after tearing off my clothes and tossing them in a pile.
Faster than you can say “stinky monster drool clothes,” Colonel Cody snapped his little fingers, and four shabtis ran over to the pi
le of laundry. I made a beeline for my bathroom.
“Well, sort of,” Colonel Cody said.
I raised an eyebrow and looked down at him. “The only thing I’m doing right now is taking a shower.”
Colonel Cody nodded, and I couldn’t help but notice at least half the shabtis had covered their noses. I guess even six-inch-tall clay men aren’t immune to the smell of sewer water mixed with monster drool.
“If my master would honor us with one minute, I would be happy to explain,” Colonel Cody said.
I shook my head. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
A few minutes turned into half an hour. Halfway in, I’d wished I’d brought a scrub brush in with me. No matter how hard I washed, I felt like I was still coated in sewage and drool. It was only the water finally turning cold that drove me out.
The shabtis stood waiting, but I ignored them. Colonel Cody opened his mouth at least ten times to try to talk, but I put up my hand. The only thing I wanted to do right now was fall asleep.
* * *
I woke up the next morning on the futon to the smell of thick incense. And then I felt my scarab heart burning.
“What in the name of Amun Ra is going on?” I jumped up off the futon and brushed the burning incense from my bare chest. I looked around, sure hippie assassins were lurking nearby. No one was around except the shabtis.
I narrowed my eyes at Colonel Cody, who looked the other way and started whistling.
“What’s going on?” I said.
He cocked his head at me. “Great Pharaoh was sleeping.”
I took a step closer, but almost tripped on twenty shabtis running by with some old towels. I stepped over them.
“And I woke up because…?” I said. Great Osiris, the shabtis avoided the truth like a plague of locusts. They always did exactly what I told them—except when they could sidestep around it.
The little shabti shrugged. “Great Tutankhamun was no longer tired?”
I reached down and picked him up, holding him near my face. “Did you light incense on me, Colonel Cody?”
He broke down. “Oh, Great Master, please order me to end my own existence if you must, but we were only trying to help you.”
“Help me? By burning me alive?” I set him back down on the coffee table.
“Not burn you alive,” Colonel Cody said. “We were cleansing you.”
“Cleansing me?” I said. Hadn’t the half-hour shower been enough?
“To cleanse the heart of the heathen within your chest,” Colonel Cody said, jumping off the table and back onto the floor.
If he hadn’t looked so earnest, I might not have answered. But I could tell that he believed every word he said.
“Gil’s not a heathen and my scarab heart is fine,” I said.
“As you say, Great Pharaoh.”
But I knew no amount of talking would convince the shabtis. Once they got an idea in their heads, there was no stopping it.
“No more burning incense on my chest,” I said.
Colonel Cody nodded. “Yes, Great Master.”
I knew how the shabtis operated. “No more doing anything to me while I’m asleep without my direct spoken approval,” I said. “Swear it on the tomb of Great Osiris himself.”
I didn’t pull out the threat of Great Osiris very often. But my townhouse was my refuge. I might not have been pharaoh of anything in the world anymore, but I still had my townhouse.
All the shabtis bowed their heads. “On the tomb of Great Osiris himself, we swear it,” they said in unison.
“And what are you doing, anyway?” I turned to the window. A stack of towels flew out from the fire escape where I knew they’d land in the Dumpster below.
“Spring cleaning,” Colonel Cody said. He snapped his fingers, and a set of black sheets went out the window next.
“It’s summer,” I said. Then it registered. “Hey, those are Gil’s sheets.”
Colonel Cody bowed. “We were taking it upon ourselves to rid the townhouse of the heathen lord’s belongings.”
“You’re throwing out Gil’s bedsheets?”
“They were very threadbare,” Colonel Cody said. “I would take my own life before I would allow you to sleep on sheets of such inferior quality. Many of his possessions we’ve started moving to the basement.”
“The basement,” I said, and it clicked into place. “You let out Humbaba!”
“A most unfortunate accident,” Colonel Cody said, pressing a hand to his forehead. “He was stored in a clay tablet. I believe the heathen trapped him there. But”—he let out a small laugh—“you know how things are. Tablets are old. And, well, one small bump and…”
“Why are you moving Gil’s stuff to the basement?” I asked. “He could come back any day.”
“Gil’s not coming back,” Horus said, dodging towels as he walked in from the fire escape. “You know that.”
I tried not to take the bait, but Horus and Gil … well, there was always this strain between the two of them. They argued about the best ways to protect me, when I didn’t need their protection at all. But my fourteen-year-old mind took over and I couldn’t help myself. “He is coming back,” I said. “I know he is.”
“If Gil wanted to be found, then he’d have been found by now.” Horus flicked his paw dismissively in my direction.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Horus’s lack of concern was infuriating. But he hadn’t had the vision that I had. He didn’t understand that Gil could be in trouble.
“Where did you go yesterday?” I asked. Maybe he did have feelers out and was secretly searching for Gil. I really hoped so, because I was running out of options fast.
Horus normally at least gave me an idea of where he was going to be. Sometimes he went to visit his girlfriend, a cat goddess named Bast. She was shiny and gold, and she and Horus had been on-again-off-again for centuries. Also, I was used to him disappearing around the new moon. He went crazy and blind when there was no light in the sky, and it was just safest when he went away. Otherwise there was the unpopular risk that he’d try to kill me. But the moon right now was a waxing crescent. He had a good three weeks until he was supposed to go away again.
“Ah, you missed me,” Horus said. “I knew you cared.” But then he walked to his milk bowl and frowned. It was empty. “Tut?” He narrowed his good eye at me.
“What?” I said, pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was still mad about him making me go to camp.
“I’m kind of thirsty.” Horus licked his lips. His tail flicked back and forth patiently, as if he were willing to play this game as long as I was.
“Whatever,” I finally said, and I looked to Colonel Cody, who summoned two shabtis to fill up the milk bowl.
“So really, where’d you go?” I asked. I wouldn’t dare say anything, but Horus’s normally shiny spotted Egyptian Mau fur looked dull and clumpy, almost like he’d been rolling in dirt. It was very unregal.
“I was watching the tides,” Horus said.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Did you see anything interesting?” I asked. “No, never mind. Just play your games. Don’t mind me.”
“I won’t,” Horus said. He finished drinking his milk and jumped on top of his scratching post. It, like lots of the things around my townhouse, was covered in Egyptian hieroglyphs. We’d had it forever, also like a lot of the things around my townhouse.
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Expecting someone, Tut?” Horus asked.
Options of who would come by my townhouse were pretty limited. Nobody really knew who I was or where I lived. I mean, sure, I went to school, and kids in my grade knew me. But nobody knew I was the actual King Tut from ancient history. Nobody except two people.
Tia, the girl Joe and Brandon had been asking about yesterday, of course was one. And seeing as how it had been months since I’d heard from her, the odds were against her being at the door, no matter how much I might have wanted he
r to stop by and see me. Henry was the other. I was betting on him.
I opened the door.
“Am I late?” Henry asked.
I hated when I was right.
“For what?” I asked.
“Science camp,” Henry said. “Day two.”
“I’m not going today,” I said, crossing my arms. “There was this Sumerian monster, and then the shabtis tried to burn me alive.”
Henry’s mouth formed a small O as I talked, but he had to realize by now that normal things didn’t happen around me. I was about to tell him how I’d vanquished the monster in a heroic moment of glory, when I saw what was going on in the kitchen.
At the top of the basement staircase were twenty shabtis hauling some kind of large wooden chest on their heads.
“Stop!” I said, barely in time. Two more seconds and the chest would have gone flying down the steps. “Bring that to me now.”
“But, my lord,” Colonel Cody said, “as we were discussing earlier, it is best to rid ourselves of the heathen lord’s possessions.”
“We’re not getting rid of Gil’s stuff,” I said. “And he’s not a heathen.”
“As you say, Great Master,” Colonel Cody said. “But as we were agreeing upon, it would be prudent to place unneeded belongings into storage.”
I imagined it would be eternal storage if the shabtis had their way.
“Bring it to me.”
Panic grew on the shabtis’ faces. They looked to Colonel Cody, then to me, then back at Colonel Cody. He sighed and nodded his head. So they trotted over with the chest on their heads.
Henry and I sat down on the futon, and I shoved the coffee table aside. The shabtis dropped the chest in front of me and backed away. The thing looked older than Gil’s chair, and that was really saying something. I didn’t see any kind of lock or key or even hinges, for that matter. I reached down to pull off the dirty wooden lid. Except it didn’t come off. It didn’t even budge. I bent down to look closer, but I couldn’t see any opening at all. Maybe it wasn’t a lid. The whole thing could have been a decorative cube, like an end table.
“How do I open it?” I asked Colonel Cody.
