Tut Page 11

  “My mother,” Horus said. “She’s got something Tut needs.”

  “Your mother’s a goddess?” Henry said.

  “Of course she’s a goddess,” Horus said, like Henry was remedial. “That’s how things work. For me to be a god, my mom has to be a goddess.”

  Horus’s condescending tone didn’t even faze Henry. “Could she help us with our project?”

  Seriously? The project again? At a time like this?

  “I’m sure she’d be happy to,” Horus said. “Isis loves projects.”

  And so that’s how it turned out that Henry was going with me to get the sacred knife. Henry finished his soda and we were on our way.

  11

  WHERE I PAY A VISIT TO DEATH

  I tried to leave the shabtis at home, but after the snake fiasco, Colonel Cody wasn’t about to let me out of his sight.

  “Great Pharaoh, you must allow us to come along,” he said. “Your mortal friend will be worthless in a fight.”

  “Hey!” Henry said.

  “Don’t take offense,” I said. “He’s overprotective.”

  “What about the mortal thing?” Henry asked as we set out with our entourage of shabtis. “He makes it sound like a disease.”

  “I wouldn’t say disease,” I said, though I could see Colonel Cody’s point. “More like a limitation.”

  “That’s no better,” Henry said.

  We set out for Old Town, cutting across the Mall. The shabtis marched in formation behind us, hiding behind trees and benches when they couldn’t blend into the shadows. When we passed the Washington Monument, before I could stop them, palm fronds sprouted from under my feet.

  “What’s up with the plants?” Henry asked.

  I kicked aside a few of the green leaves. “Yeah, that. You see, I have these powers.…”

  Henry looked at me like he thought I might start growing an extra set of arms. “You’re immortal and you have powers?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Osiris gave them to me. He’s the god of—”

  “Plants?” Henry asked.

  “Kind of. He’s the god of all things fertile. Which makes me able to grow plants anytime I want.”

  “Is that good for anything?” Henry asked. He picked up one of the palm fronds and started pulling it apart, maybe testing to make sure it was real.

  “Sometimes.” I almost made poison ivy grow up his pant leg just to show him how useful my powers could be, but I held back. “I can also control bugs, like all those beetles around my town house.”

  “Yeah, those are kind of disgusting, Tut. I didn’t want to say anything, but you should clean more often.”

  Henry stopped talking because he tripped.

  I looked down to see Colonel Cody holding the end of one of Henry’s shoelaces. You don’t mess with the shabtis or question their cleanliness.

  “Horus likes the beetles,” I said.

  Henry shuddered. “What about cockroaches? They freak me out. And they’re everywhere these days. Have you noticed how many bugs there’ve been in the last week?”

  I had noticed the increase in bugs. In the streets. In restaurants and stores. They’d even commented on it on the news, calling it the “insect revolution.” Pest-control companies had to be making a fortune.

  “Why is everyone so freaked out over bugs?” I said.

  “Because they’re nasty, dirty, filthy…,” Henry said. “They skitter around and crawl in your shoes. My mom found a roach in her bed the other night. She made my dad pull all the sheets off and spray insect repellent around the whole thing like a barrier.”

  “Did it work?” I asked.

  “Only in the bedroom,” Henry said. “But we found bugs in our kitchen, bathroom, and even in the pantry. My mom’s convinced our maid is putting them there for some kind of twisted revenge.”

  “You guys should be nicer to your maid,” I said.

  We started across the bridge, avoiding the steady stream of cars. Given that it was Friday night, half the city was out.

  “What other powers do you have?” Henry asked.

  “Well, generally I can make people forget weird things that happen around me. Except it didn’t work on you back at the town house.”

  “What do you mean?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “I have this spell I use…,” I started.

  “You tried to put a spell on me?” Henry said.

  Why did people get so upset about that? It’s not like I was trying to make them do something stupid like dance in their underwear.

  “It was just a little spell,” I said. “So you’d forget about the snakes. And the shabtis. And Horus. But too much had happened. That’s why it didn’t work.”

  “Dude, don’t put any spells on me.”

  Enough on the spells.

  “Anyway, Gil has different powers than me,” I said.

  “Your brother’s immortal, too?”

  “He’s the only other immortal I know of,” I said.

  Except for Horemheb. No way was I including him, since he totally didn’t deserve his immortality.

  “What?” Henry asked.

  “What, what?” I said.

  “Your face turned red.”

  I gritted my teeth. “Just thinking about someone I plan to kill.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t the smartest thing for me to say, but I didn’t care. It actually felt good to get it off my chest.

  To Henry’s credit, he only hesitated about five seconds—his mouth opening and closing as he tried to formulate his response.

  “Anyone I know?” he finally asked.

  “My uncle.” I spit out the word, because I hated that I was actually related to him. “He murdered my mother and father and brother.”

  Henry stopped walking and pulled on my shoulder so I’d stop, too. “Your own uncle did that?”

  “Nice family, right?” I said, trying to laugh it off.

  Henry saw right through it. “I’m sorry. That stinks.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  But Henry wasn’t going to let it drop. “No, really. I can’t even imagine that. My only uncle gives me a new set of Mickey Mouse ears for Christmas. He has every year since I was two. And during the summers, I visit him for a week. He works at Disney World. I get to skip all the lines. And see behind the scenes.”

  “Maybe I can come along next summer,” I said, because right now, the idea of doing something as normal as going to Disney World with a friend sounded like paradise.

  “That’s a great idea,” Henry said.

  It had been centuries since I’d really talked to anyone besides Gil or Horus, and it was nice to have a friend. Even if Henry was destined to grow old and die just like the rest of the mortals in the world.

  “I need to get rid of my uncle first,” I said. “That’s my top priority.”

  “Seriously?” Henry said.

  “Seriously. There’s this special knife I need. It’s the only way to kill an immortal.”

  Henry kicked a rock down the gravel path. And then he kicked another. And then he finally said, “I never signed up for killing someone.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to kill anyone. I am.”

  “But…,” he said. “What if he kills you instead?”

  “Yeah, that would be a problem,” I said. Because that wouldn’t be revenge. That would be stupidity.

  “What does Horus’s mom have to do with this?” Henry asked.

  “She has the knife.”

  “And we’re going to get it?” Henry said.

  “Right.”

  Colonel Cody and his four majors shuffled around in front of us, slipping out of the shadows. “Shall I lead onward, Great Master? Or do you intend to stand here all evening speaking with the mortal?”

  It was his polite way of telling us to get a move on.

  “Lead onward,” I said, and we set out again.

  Henry didn’t say another word until we got to Old Town. Maybe if I hadn’t been so focused on killing H
oremheb, I would have given more effort to conversation. But the knife was within my reach. This was really going to happen.

  “Dynasty Funeral Homes?” Henry said when we stopped in front of the white building. It looked like something out of a Civil War movie, with grand pillars stretching up to the roof far above and black shutters next to all the windows. “They’re the ones with that stupid little jingle. Doesn’t it go something like, ‘With over fifty locations to serve you best, Dynasty Funeral Homes is where you want to rest.’”

  “Isis owns them.” I cut him off before he sang anymore. It was hard enough to keep the tune out of my head.

  “I hate that jingle,” Henry said. “But everyone knows it. My own parents even preplanned their funerals through Dynasty. Isis must be making bank.”

  Money was not something the gods worried about. Money wasn’t something I even had to worry about. With immortal powers and an endless amount of time, there were tons of ways to make money. The only time I’d lived poor was once when Gil and I were in hiding, back during the Crusades. Not an experience I ever wanted to repeat.

  We climbed sixteen granite stairs to the massive front doors of the funeral home. A sign in the window read,

  “NORMAL OPERATING HOURS:

  8:00 A.M.–5:00 P.M. DAILY.

  PLEASE USE SIDE ENTRANCE DURING NON-BUSINESS HOURS.

  DEAD OR ALIVE, YOUR ETERNAL HAPPINESS IS OUR GOAL.”

  So we walked back down the stairs and around to the carport. An armada of ten black hearses was parked in the back. I rang the bell …

  … and waited for an eternity. Finally, the lock unlatched and the door opened.

  It was Tia. She was just draping a new necklace over her head. The pendant hanging from it was a lot like an ankh but was actually called a tiet and was, I’m sure by no coincidence, a symbol of Isis.

  “What are you doing here?” I said.

  “Visiting.” Tia settled the necklace on top of the others and patted it in place.

  “You’re visiting Isis?” I asked. “How do you even know about Isis?”

  “Wait, she knows about all this god stuff, too?” Henry said.

  “Unfortunately,” I said.

  “Oh, Tut, you offend me,” Tia said. “I thought we had a bond.”

  She’d stolen my scroll. That was no way to form a bond.

  “It’s been a long day,” I said. “And then there were these snakes.”

  Henry nodded. “It’s true. They were going to kill me. But then Tut pulled some ancient mumbo jumbo out of a bunch of scrolls.”

  Tia’s blue eyes widened. “You used the Book of the Dead again? I thought last night was a fluke.”

  I didn’t see any reason to mention the three spells Horus had given me. Might as well play it off. “Sure. What’s the big deal?”

  She looked me up and down. “It’s just kind of impressive, that’s all.”

  “I was actually pretty impressed, too,” Henry said. “Or maybe I’m just happy to be alive.”

  “Oh, come on, you guys. I’m immortal. I have powers.”

  “Still,” Tia said. “The gods will talk about that for centuries.”

  “Good. Now my life feels complete,” I said.

  “Anyway, I was just leaving.” Tia smiled what had to be the most gorgeous smile in the world, which kind of made my head turn to mush. I saw Henry staring at her, so I elbowed him in the side.

  “Wait a second,” I said. “You never told me how you knew who I was.”

  “You’re right.” Tia bent down to tie the lace on her combat boots, even though it didn’t look like it was untied.

  “So how do you know? And who are you, really? Are you related to Isis? Are you immortal?”

  “So many questions,” Tia said.

  “That’s because you know everything there is to know about me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

  “And that’s exactly the way I like it,” Tia said. “See ya, Boy King.” She pushed past us and strolled away.

  I totally let the “boy king” comment slide, but Henry laughed. “Boy King. I forgot about that.”

  “Don’t you dare start saying it.”

  “Yeah, right,” Henry said. “And I thought Great Pharaoh was the best nickname I’d ever heard.”

  “I can’t believe Tia was here,” I said. “What do you think she was doing?” I tried to keep my heart from glowing, but the whole thing was beyond annoying. Why did Tia have to be so mysterious?

  “Does she know about the knife?” Henry said.

  “No,” I said. “I mean, maybe.”

  “Does she or doesn’t she?” Henry said.

  There it was. The truth. I didn’t know what had happened to the scroll. She could have gotten it out of the Hall of Artifacts. And even if she couldn’t read it, what if she knew someone who could? What if Isis read it for her and then gave her the knife?

  “I hope not,” I said.

  “Don’t underestimate her just because you think she’s cute.”

  “Puh-lease,” I said.

  Henry rolled his eyes. “What? You don’t think she’s cute?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I said. “But you do, too.”

  “Your point?” he said.

  “Come on,” I said, and pulled him inside. The door latched behind us. Henry and I stood in a kitchen with yellow tiled walls and a sparkling white floor. Platters of cookies cooled on the counter.

  “Do you think any are chocolate chip?” Henry picked up a cookie and nibbled on it. “Because I love chocolate chip. Though I think those white macadamia nut ones are my favorites, except they have to be cooked just right. You know, where they’re kind of soft and gooey on the inside and crusty on the outside. And the macadamia nuts can’t be all crushed up because that’s just nasty.”

  “Are you serious?” Now wasn’t the time for cookies. We had to find Isis. I tried to concentrate, but the stupid funeral-home jingle played over the speaker system.

  Just then, a guy with the head of a baboon came around the corner.

  “Hapi!” I said. Of Horus’s four sons, Hapi was the only one with anything resembling responsibility.

  “Tut,” His baboon face didn’t change at all. Hapi showed about as much emotion as a potato. “It’s been a long time.”

  “If I’d known you were so close, I would’ve come to visit,” I said. “How come Horus never told me?”

  Hapi motioned with his baboon head back in the direction he came from. “It’s my granny. She’s pretty reclusive.”

  Crazy was a better word to describe Isis, but I opted not to mention it.

  “Will she talk to us?” I asked. My scarab heart skipped a beat. What if this was a dead end? Worse yet, what if she wouldn’t give me the knife? I’d have to find a way to convince her.

  “Sure,” Hapi said. “She just saw your girlfriend. Why not you?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” I said. My face burned. I didn’t dare look at Henry.

  Henry was more interested in Hapi than in questioning whether Tia was my girlfriend or not. “Who’s the monkey?” he asked.

  I tensed.

  Hapi bared his teeth and snapped.

  Henry inched backward and his face turned as white as a freshly bandaged mummy. The whole situation made me appreciate the fact that he was even here, sticking by my side.

  “Don’t call him a monkey,” I whispered out of the side of my mouth. “He’s a baboon. Well, just his head is. The rest of him is human.”

  Henry only nodded.

  Maybe Hapi was feeling generous, because he didn’t tear off Henry’s head, or even his ears. He gave one final snarl and then relaxed his mouth.

  First Horus. Now Hapi. If Henry didn’t watch it, he was going to make a bad impression on all the gods.

  “This is Hapi,” I said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Henry said.

  Hapi ignored him. It was time to move on.

  “Can you take us to her?” I asked.

  “I wa
s heading that way anyway,” Hapi said.

  Hapi led us to the basement. As soon as my feet hit the last step, I knew I was in trouble. This was no regular funeral home. It was a mummification parlor. Bodies lay in open caskets all over the room, each with five Canopic jars next to them instead of four. Hooks and knives lay scattered everywhere, covered in disgusting-looking fluids. It reminded me way too much of the time Isis had threatened to use me as a lab rat. I started coughing as the smell of natron crept up my nose.

  If you don’t know what natron is, pray to the Egyptian god of your choice that you never have to find out. To be brief, it’s the salty baking-soda powder they shove you in when they start to mummify you. Once your body hits that natron, it’s all over. You stay in there until your body’s shriveled into something resembling a prune, but way more leathery. But let’s be straight about something. That’s only the beginning. Then they pull your brains out and pulverize them.

  “More visitors, Granny,” Hapi said.

  I tore my eyes away from the tables of disgustingness and toward Horus’s mom.

  “Whoa, she’s intense,” Henry whispered.

  Intense was a perfect word for Isis. She took her role as “mother goddess” seriously and made sure everything about her fit the image. Her dark hair was chopped into some curly bouffant do that stood a foot high on her head, and her lips were covered in bright-red lipstick. She wore a blue checked dress and a white apron, which looked like it was covered in the same stuff as all the knives around the room. And she patted Hapi on his baboon head like he was five.

  “Thank you, my adorable grandson,” she said. “You’ve always been such a good boy.”

  “Tell me if they bother you, Granny,” Hapi said. Then he sauntered over to one of the bodies and pulled something out. It was red and puffy and looked like it belonged in menudo. Hapi shoved it into one of the Canopic jars and reached into the body again.

  “It’s great to see you…” I never knew how to address Isis. She treated me like I was one of her grandsons and insisted on friendly terms. But I just couldn’t see myself addressing the most powerful goddess in the world as “Granny.”

  “Auntie Isis,” she said. “And dear Tut, it’s been far too long.” She grabbed me in a giant hug, smearing whatever was on her apron all over me.