Milton rolled his eyes. “As if I couldn’t wait to get home and tell everyone I hung out with you in Ancient Egypt.”
They waited a few more minutes until the guards found a new distraction. The three boys then created a line and began piling everything they could find in the alley against the wall: stones, fragments of wood, even clay jars. Seth proved an invaluable ally, moving the biggest stones and creating a wide foundation. Soon the three of them had created quite a tower.
Milton finally placed the last clay jar onto their pile. Sweat dripped from his face as he stepped back and examined the teetering ladder. “This doesn’t look safe enough for a mouse to climb.”
“You’ve got to try,” insisted Horace, and Milton began to climb. But even with only the partial weight of Milton’s body, the whole contraption tilted to the right. Milton froze as the pile creaked its way back to center.
“Keep going,” Horace urged. “Seth, hold the bottom.” Milton took another deep breath and resumed his ascent. Slowly, he climbed higher and higher. After another anxious minute, Milton finally reached the top. “I made it!” he shouted down.
“Seth, you’re next.”
Seth looked at Horace and shook his head. “I’m not doing this.”
“We don’t have a choice, Seth. You’ve got to go.”
Seth jumped on the first jar. The pile teetered again, far worse than it had for Milton, and a few pieces even came tumbling down. Horace raced to brace the bottom, and Milton grabbed the top. Timidly, Seth ascended the pile.
Horace took one glance back and saw a soldier approaching from down the alley. “There they are!” the soldier shouted.
Without pausing, Horace turned toward the wall again, and nimbly climbed up the pile of debris. For once, it was an advantage to be small. Before he knew it, he was standing on the ledge alongside the two other boys.
“Help me knock this down!” yelled Horace.
Quickly, Milton scurried over and gave the pile a hard jab with his legs.
The guard beneath them was struggling to climb the pile, but his weight combined with Milton’s forceful kick sent the whole thing crumbling down. The guard turned and ran down the alleyway, shouting for more help.
Horace scanned the narrow ledge in both directions. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah, let’s get out of here,” said Seth. “I don’t want to stand up here forever.”
Could their tough companion have a little fear of heights? Horace smiled to himself before nodding.
“Let’s see.” Milton scanned the map again. “I think we can use this to get over to the West Wing. That’s where we saw Anna last. Remember?”
Horace agreed and began leading the three of them along the narrow width of the wall. Seth stayed in the middle while Milton brought up the rear. The wall wasn’t built for walking. It was for defense. In several places the stone narrowed, and in others, it simply crumbled under their feet. Twice Horace had to grab Seth to catch him from falling, and once Seth’s quick hand kept Milton from plunging to his own death.
“I think we’re close,” Horace noted as the buildings changed from yellow limestone to black granite. From his tour with Tut and his escape with Milton, Horace knew this was the site of the forbidden West Wing, where only the priests were allowed.
“Over there—look. We might be able to get down.” Horace pointed at a sloping section of the wall. The base was much wider than the top. It looked like the slide at the school playground, just a lot steeper.
The three of them inched across the wall to the sloping section.
“I’ll go first,” Horace volunteered.
“No way. What if you break a leg?” protested Milton.
“Let him go,” suggested Seth. “That will teach him for bringing us to this crazy place.”
“Listen, if Horace gets hurt, none of us is getting out of here. He’s the only one who knows how to get home.”
“Okay, then we can all go together,” said Horace, trying to calm the growing tension between his two companions.
Seth took a deep breath and nodded. It looked like a dangerously long way, but there didn’t appear to be any other options.
“Ready?” Horace paused as the others got into position alongside him. “One . . . two . . . three . . . jump!”
The three boys squeezed hands as they leaped off the ledge and skimmed down the sloping surface. Horace’s skin burned against the hard stone of the wall as the gravel rapidly approached from below. Then, in a sudden cloud of dirt and dust, they hit the ground.
Horace scanned his body quickly for broken bones before looking around at his two companions. “Is everyone okay?”
“I’m fine.” Seth brushed a chunk of dirt from his robe. The fall seemed to quiet his protesting, at least for the time being.
“Me too.” Milton tightened his threaded belt.
Horace looked up at the wall. It must have been fifteen feet high. “I can’t believe we did that.”
“And survived,” added Milton.
“There’s got to be a door around here that can lead us into the temple.”
The two boys followed Horace to another passageway, this one lined with giant columns and flickering torches. As they walked toward the complex’s inner core, the light began to disappear, and the torches became fewer and farther between. Scared of their own shadows, they made their way to a flight of stairs that descended into darkness.
“This is going to take forever if we keep walking around like this. The temple’s half the size of the city. I think we should split up,” suggested Horace.
“I don’t know. That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” said Milton.
Seth didn’t say anything. The thought of walking around alone in this place appeared to terrify him.
“I think it’s our only shot. We need to find Anna fast,” Horace insisted. “You two, stay together. I’ve been here before. Maybe we’ll find Tut, too.”
Milton cringed at the thought of being partnered with Seth.
But Seth was still caught up on Horace’s other words. “Who did you say?”
“Yeah, we’re in Ancient Egypt at the time of King Tut,” Milton whispered. “And if we don’t help him and Anna, everything you’ve ever learned about Ancient Egypt is going to be destroyed.”
The words seemed to make the seriousness of their task even more real.
“But what if something happens to one of us?” Milton finally asked Horace.
Horace didn’t even want to entertain the possibility. “No matter what, meet at the temple gates in an hour.”
“Do you need this?” Seth held out his slingshot in an unexpected gesture.
“Are you sure?”
“I always keep an extra one around.” He pulled out a second slingshot.
Horace laughed, for the first time glad to have Seth as his partner.
Chapter Eighteen
Wandering alone through the cool, dark hallways of the western sanctuary, Seth’s slingshot in hand, Horace took the beetle out of his pocket. Twice he’d ducked into random rooms and even a hallway to sidestep the pursuit of soldiers.
At the end of a particularly long passage, he stopped. There was a group of guards in a heated discussion. He was about to make a run for it in the other direction, when shouting filled the hall behind him. Horace quickly slipped into the darkness of a nearby doorway. A soldier came charging by.
“There’s been a break-in!” the man shouted. “The guards at the gate say a group of men have breached the walls and are trying to free the prisoners. We found a pile of debris they used, and we’ve got orders to send reinforcements. You three, come with me.”
“But what about the—” The sound of an explosion drowned out the other soldier’s words.
The men went running past Horace, along the same path he’d just come from. It was too dangerous to go back now and, clearly, there was something important ahead.
He just had to get past one remaining guard. Inspired by w
hat he’d seen Seth do so many times on the playground, he reached into his robe and pulled out the slingshot. There was only one stone to use. Ever so carefully, he placed the beetle into the soft pouch. With a shaking hand, he stretched the cord as far as it would go. Finally, after lining it up just right, he released the pouch. In a flash of light, the beetle flew across the corridor, and with a loud thump, the guard fell to the ground.
Horace ran forward and, to his great relief, found the guard still breathing but knocked out cold; the beetle was lying on the ground next to him. He picked it up and then turned to the doorway. It was the same room he and his friends had been trapped in when Smenk had tortured the priests. Was Anna in there?
Slowly, he peeked his head around the heavy curtain. It was too difficult to see anything, but as Horace passed inside, a chill swept over him. The room was empty. Horace noticed a doorway on the opposite side, something he hadn’t spotted the first time he’d been there. Slowly, he walked to the door. It opened onto a tunnel that descended into darkness. A strange sound was coming from within its depths, like heavy breathing. Could it be his friends?
He hadn’t gone more than a few feet before the light behind him was swallowed up. The tunnel was so dark, Horace couldn’t imagine how anyone could navigate it without hurting themselves. His foot smacked against the edge of the wall, and he realized he’d reached a junction. The path split in two directions. The faint light of another torch illuminated a gruesome trail of small bones ahead. The other corridor was blanketed in darkness. He decided to try his luck with the lit passage, despite the unsettling remains. At least that way he’d see if anything jumped out and tried to kill him, he thought.
A few more steps and then a giant breeze swept through the tunnel. The torchlight went out.
“Great,” he said to himself in frustration. He couldn’t see a thing, and the tunnel was creepy—much creepier than he’d realized. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
But he pulled out the beetle and, sure enough, it began to glow blue. A dozen more steps brought him to the edge of something even more unexpected. Resting in the center of a room, circled by burning torches, was a single black stone set upon a small altar.
“The Benben Stone!” Horace gasped. Smenk must have moved it beneath the temple. But why down here?
Suddenly Horace smelled the strong odor of rotting meat. It wasn’t Smenk or Eke or even another soldier. An amber mane shimmered in the torchlight, and the source of the heavy breathing revealed itself. A lion emerged from the darkness. This was what Tut had warned him about on his first visit. How could he have forgotten? The priests kept creatures deep within the temple to protect their treasures. This must be one of those animals, and it was guarding the Benben Stone.
Then it began to speak.
You have come for the stone. The lion raised the corner of its mouth to reveal a set of long, sharp teeth. And to help your friends. His lips weren’t moving, but Horace could hear the words in his head. If you answer the riddle correctly, the stone will be yours, but if not . . . The mouth flared open again, dripping with desire.
Horace squeezed the beetle and swallowed. “I don’t want the stone; I was just looking for my friends. Do you know where they are?” he asked.
The lion began to circle Horace. Friendship, such a dangerous human trait.
“Are they safe?” Horace insisted.
The lion’s eyes rolled back in its head like something out of a horror movie. Then, just as quickly, the pupils reappeared. Your friends, yes, I see them. Three of them are in prison, and the other two have just been caught.
“What?” Horace was biting down on his lip so hard, he could taste the metallic tinge of blood. He needed to get out of here and help them. For a moment he wondered if he could outrun the beast. Its thick hind legs suggested definitely not.
If what the lion said was true, Milton and Seth had already been captured and now were at Smenk’s mercy just like Anna, Tut, and Meri. And if he ran back into the temple, that same fate could await him. But if he stayed and answered the riddle incorrectly, he might also get killed.
He considered the shimmering surface of the stone, and sensed an ancient magic. Maybe the Benben Stone was his only hope. Maybe its magic could help him free his friends and get all of them out of there alive.
Finally Horace looked the terrifying creature in the eyes: there was no other option. “Okay, I’ll answer the riddle.”
Good. Now let us begin. The lion paced in an even wider circle around Horace. Once, there was a great pharaoh. He had all the wealth in the world and the largest palace in the land. Yet he still wasn’t fulfilled. He called his wisest advisors together and told them to find him something that would make him happy when he was sad, and sad when he was happy. The advisors were fearful of disappointing their ruler, but they also knew nothing of the sort existed. For a year they scoured the countryside, looking for an answer in the villages, the temples, even the sacred tombs, but there was nothing. Finally they returned to the palace.
“Our lord,” they replied. “We have looked everywhere, but there is nothing that can bring happiness when you are sad, and sadness when you are happy.”
The pharaoh sent them away.
The men spent another year searching. They returned again, empty-handed. The pharaoh grew angry at their failure and gave them one last warning. “This is your final chance. Find me something that will make me happy when I’m sad and sad when I’m happy, or you will all be banished from my kingdom.”
Another year passed. On the last day of the last month of this third year, a strange turn of events occurred. The men were on their way to the palace, when a boy overheard their conversation. He interrupted. “I know the answer to your riddle. Let me speak to the pharaoh.”
The men told the young boy to go away. They didn’t have time to waste. But the boy continued to follow them.
One of the men turned to the boy. “Tell us, then. What is it?”
The boy refused. “I will tell only the pharaoh.”
Finally, after much debate, the men agreed to take the boy to the pharaoh, too desperate now to argue.
When the pharaoh saw the young boy standing before his throne, he started laughing, then turned to his advisors. “A child has come to tell me what not even the wisest men in this court can answer?” They begged the pharaoh to give the boy a chance to speak and hoped whatever he said would save their lives. Finally the boy stepped forward and offered a simple answer. The lion paused and looked deep into Horace’s eyes. What did he say?
Beads of sweat ran down Horace’s neck.
I need an answer, the lion growled, and stepped closer to Horace.
In his mind, Horace saw the clock in his grandfather’s office, the towering obelisks of Amarna, the clay tablets in Ay’s classroom. For so many sleepless nights, he’d wondered why he’d been given the beetle. He had always thought it must be some kind of terrible mistake, and now his inability to answer this riddle felt like proof.
The lion tensed its muscles, readying to pounce.
Horace was just about to surrender, when he heard the sound of slowly dripping water from somewhere deep in the room. It almost sounded like the ticking of a clock. How quickly each day had gone by since school had first started. How fast his dad had ripped off the calendar for September and replaced it with the pumpkin-covered page that was October. Cleveland was just a memory, and now Niles was his new home. He saw himself sitting with his father that night he’d first found out about his grandfather’s death. They were on the bed. “I know it’s hard for you to hear, Horace, but this, too, will pass in time. Everything changes in time, even these tough moments. Out of them will grow something good,” his dad had said.
At first Horace thought it was just a silly memory. And then he realized it was the answer. His dad had given him the answer. “That’s it! I know what would make someone happy when they’re sad and sad when they’re happy.”
The lion’s expression glimmered with c
uriosity.
“Everything changes in time. It’s true! The good, the bad. Everything changes in time.” Horace answered triumphantly. “The answer is time.”
To Horace’s surprise, the creature took a step backward.
You have solved the riddle, and now not even I can stand in your way. Place the beetle in the stone and you will be granted a memory, one you have been wishing to see, young Keeper. One that will answer a pressing question within your heart. And with that, the lion disappeared into the darkness.
He’d done it. The Benben Stone was his! All doubt, failure, and insecurity disappeared. He had recovered what Smenk had stolen, and he would use it to save his friends.
The beetle vibrated strangely in his hand, pulling him forward. Its blue light mixed with the deep black and purple hues of the Benben Stone, illuminating the outlines of strange symbols and writing.
Just a few feet from the gold platform, the energy between the two stones grew even more intense, like a pair of giant magnets pulling at each other. Horace slowly placed the beetle into a small, oval hole in the middle of the stone. He knew exactly what memory he’d wish for. The same thing he’d wished for every day and night for the past weeks: to see his grandfather one last time.
The Benben Stone began to pulse. A wave of energy passed through his arm and swelled in his lungs. From the center of the stone emerged a bluish-purple light, rising above the stone. Horace wondered if a new portal was about to open, but then the light began to take a strange shape, a holographic image that filled the entire room.
At first Horace thought the shapes were reflections of the shadows in the room, but then he started to recognize faces. He saw his mom and dad. Himself as a baby. Another flash and a scene of his sisters when they were younger; another, and then his grandfather, kneeling in the garden with someone. He was with Horace, but Horace must have been no older than two or three. It was one of his first trips to Michigan. With a final flash, there standing at the farm were three new shapes—Herman, his grandfather, and . . . Smenk? They were in the open field near the tree and his grandfather was holding the Benben Stone in his hands.
The Secret of the Scarab Beetle Page 10
