Tut--My Epic Battle to Save the World Read online

  “It was the immortal-killing knife,” I said.

  Hapi nodded. “It’s even more effective on a mortal. Apep had it. He used it in the battle.”

  “Gil was dead.”

  “Maybe,” Hapi said. “He should have died then. Would have died. But Isis and Nergal worked together, casting the spell on him, healing him and making him the first immortal.”

  Gil was the first immortal? How had I never known that? I always thought Gil got his scarab heart from Nergal and that was all there was to the story. I’d never really thought to question it. But here Hapi was telling me that Gil not only fought Apep before, but that Gil was responsible for Apep’s imprisonment.

  “It’s why Gil was put in charge of protecting the knife,” Hapi said. “He became the guardian from that point on.”

  “And Apep was defeated after that?” I said.

  Hapi nodded, motioning all around with his hands. “All the bodies of the fallen lie in the swamps around us. The battle was fought. Ra imprisoned Apep. And then Ra went away.”

  “Apep has Gil now,” I said. That must’ve been how Apep even knew about Gil in the first place. Apep would have remembered Gil. He’d have known Gil played a part in his imprisonment. And he would want revenge.

  Apep hadn’t been looking for just any immortal. He had been looking for Gil specifically, and the reasons were absolutely personal.

  “He’ll kill Gil this time,” Hapi said, and the emotion again slipped from his face. But how could he be so emotionless about the whole thing?

  “We have to save Gil,” I said.

  “No. We have to stop Apep,” Hapi said. “Gil is irrelevant.”

  “He’s not irrelevant.” How could Hapi even say that? Even if he was a god, it made me want to punch him in the face.

  “Apep is the concern, Tut,” Hapi said. “Not Gil.”

  I didn’t say a word. Hapi was wrong. That’s all there was to it. Gil and Apep were both the concern. And I would take care of both of them.

  “Um, not to interrupt, but where do we find the sun disk?” Henry said. He had to have felt the tension rippling in the air between Hapi and me.

  I flashed him a quick smile in thanks. Henry would help me get Gil back, even if Hapi wouldn’t.

  Hapi kept his eyes fixed on me for one more minute. The shabtis bravely stood on my shoulders, facing him off. And then Hapi finally turned away and started walking again.

  “It’s just ahead,” he said, smacking his lips together.

  I nodded to Henry, and we silently followed, shovels in tow.

  I’d never been in these swamps, and I wondered now if it was the spells around the place that had kept me away. It reached far out toward the Potomac, farther than should have been possible, and yet Hapi kept pushing through the tall grass. The swamp got thicker, and the bugs kept biting. And when I couldn’t see anything, not even with the light coming from my scarab heart, the darkness broke, and a raised clearing appeared in front of us. It was an island of hard-packed dirt that rose a good five feet out of the swamp around it.

  Hapi walked to the center of the small island and stomped his foot on the dirt.

  “Here,” he said. And then he stepped to the side.

  Hapi’s message was pretty clear. I moved to the spot on the ground and raised my shovel.

  Colonel Cody launched himself at me and landed on my hands. He tried to pull them from the shovel. “Please, Great Master, this menial labor is totally unbefitting someone of royal lineage such as yourself. Perhaps Master’s common friend could perform the service.”

  “There is no way I am digging alone,” Henry said, scowling at Colonel Cody. “No way.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. I’ll help.”

  I lifted Colonel Cody from my wrist and placed him on the ground. He immediately started digging with his small hands.

  “It’s probably a good idea for you to protect the perimeter,” I said. “You know, since Hapi took down the protective spells.”

  At this, Colonel Cody and the shabtis stopped digging. “Great Master is beyond wise.” He snapped his fingers, and the three shabtis formed a protective triangle around the perimeter of the small island.

  I dug my shovel into the dirt. It was packed hard, like it had been in place for hundreds of years—thousands of years—and Henry joined me. Given that I was an immortal, and Henry might be, it shouldn’t take long.

  “You never told us who’s buried here,” Henry said to Hapi.

  “Not who,” Hapi said. “What.”

  “Okay, what’s buried here?” Henry asked.

  Hapi picked something off his shoulder, like he was grooming himself, and placed it in his mouth. I tried not to act disgusted. He was part baboon after all.

  “It’s not your concern,” Hapi said, and he continued watching us, as if that were the end of that. But Henry was not about to let it go.

  “What do you mean, not our concern? We’re digging up a grave in the middle of an ancient Egyptian battlefield. We have the right to at least know who’s—I mean what’s—buried here.”

  “Did you dig the original grave?” Hapi asked.

  “Um, no,” Henry said.

  “Were you in the battle?” With each question, Hapi took a step closer.

  “No,” Henry said.

  “Did you fight against the most powerful evil ever to face this world?” Hapi said.

  “You know I didn’t,” Henry said. “But that’s not the point. We’re digging up a grave. We should know what we’re digging up.”

  Hapi leaned close, getting in Henry’s face. “Let’s just say this, friend of Tut. What is buried here isn’t for mortals to know.”

  “But I’m not even sure I’m m…” Henry stammered, so I interceded.

  “Okay, can you tell me?” I asked. “I’m immortal.”

  Hapi crossed his arms. “What’s buried here is—”

  But right then my shovel hit something hard. Hapi squatted down and began to brush the dirt from the top of whatever it was. And in less than a minute, we’d uncovered a dirty sphere. Of course we had to dig more until we could finally get it free. Hapi pulled it from the grave and rested it on the ground next to the hole we’d dug. And then he popped it open.

  Mist escaped from it along with a hissing sound and fog like a vat of dry ice. This was it. This was the moment I would get Ra’s sun disk. I loved when things worked out like they should.

  Except the sphere was empty. There was no Sun Disk of Ra. There was nothing that even slightly resembled the Sun Disk of Ra. Instead, the only thing in the sphere was a rolled-up piece of papyrus.

  I grabbed the paper and unrolled it, smoothing it between my fingers. It hardly even crinkled, which meant that it couldn’t be that old.

  Handwritten on it was a message.

  I only had to skim it to know who it was from. Imsety and Qeb, two of Horus’s other sons. They were in charge of watching over and protecting the Hall of Artifacts.

  Hapi read the note and flared his nostrils. I half expected smoke to start coming out of his ears.

  “‘Order of the gods,’” he said. “When my father hears about this…”

  If Imsety or Qeb had been in the swamp with us right then, the battle between the gods would have been reenacted.

  “They have no right to dig here,” Hapi said. “No right to disturb this place.”

  It was not the time to disagree or makes jokes about Hapi’s irresponsible brothers. So I kept my mouth shut and prayed that Henry did, too.

  Thankfully for Henry, my prayers worked.

  “The mere fact that they came in here, without consulting Granny, is a huge violation,” Hapi went on.

  I folded the piece of papyrus and stuck it in my pocket. And then I motioned at Henry with my head that it was time to go. But Henry shook his head.

  Was he crazy? We had to get out of here. Being around an angry baboon was bad enough. Being around an angry baboon who was also an Egyptian god … well, l
et’s just say it wasn’t how I wanted the evening to end. Hapi could go back and report this to Auntie Isis or Nephthys or whoever he needed to report in to. In the meantime, I needed to visit the Hall of Artifacts.

  “When Granny hears what those two have been up to, she’s going to shrink them into shabtis. We’ll see how they like that.”

  I cringed, hoping Colonel Cody didn’t take offense at the shabti remark. My shabtis were awesome. I could imagine a whole heck of a lot worse things in life than being a shabti. At least none of them had baboon heads.

  Hapi threw the sphere back into the ground, and without even touching it, the dirt piled back on top, packing down until it looked completely undisturbed. If he had powers like that, then why did we have to spend the last hour digging with shovels?

  “I’m telling Auntie N,” Hapi said, and he started back through the marsh. “She’ll get the message to Granny.”

  He sounded like a great big baboon tattletale.

  “We’re coming with you,” Henry said, hurrying after Hapi.

  “What? No, we’re not. We’re done here.” We were heading right to the Hall of Artifacts, that’s what we were doing.

  “I need to talk to Auntie N,” Henry said.

  “You can talk to her some other time,” I said.

  But Henry shook his head. “No, Tut. It’s the perfect time.”

  “It’s not the perfect time,” I said.

  But Henry pleaded with me with his eyes. I had no clue why he’d want to talk to Auntie N so badly. “Please, Tut?”

  I tried to calm the anxiety running through me. I counted to ten before I spoke. Henry must have some reason he needed to visit Nephthys.

  The seconds ticked by. I couldn’t use the sun disk until tomorrow evening anyway. There was still plenty of time to get it. And we were sort of close to Dynasty Funeral Homes.

  “Fine,” I said. We’d talk to Nephthys and then visit the Hall of Artifacts. It was only a small detour.

  15

  WHERE I GET MY WORST FUTURE PREDICTED AT THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD

  We waded through the fog and the swamps. It took even longer on the way back because Hapi had to keep stopping and putting the protective spells up around the place. When I saved Gil, I’d ask him all about this battle he’d somehow never told me about. I couldn’t believe that this was where he’d gotten his scarab heart. His immortality. But the heart in my chest felt warmer than usual, almost like there was a link between it and this place.

  Hapi didn’t speak as he got on his bike and started pedaling. Anger seethed off him in waves. I understood sibling rivalry, sort of. My real older brother and I had fought, but I also kind of worshiped the ground he walked on, and not just because he would have been pharaoh before me. He seemed to do everything right, so unlike me back in the days of ancient Egypt. Me? I was more the kid who goofed around when I should have been studying.

  We made it to Dynasty Funeral Homes in record time. Hapi wheeled his bike around back and parked it in the bike rack, securing it with a U-lock before walking to the side door.

  Did people steal bikes from the gods? I guess other gods did. They stole things like scepters and sun disks, so why not bikes? There were two more locks on the rack, so Henry and I locked our bikes up, too. And that’s when I finally let my mind wander from Gil to think about Tia. She could be inside also. I didn’t know where else she’d be at midnight.

  Hapi pulled the key ring from the chain that was looped to his black pants and unlocked the side door of Dynasty Funeral Homes. I heard the silly jingle playing over the speakers the second we walked through the door. And I smelled the cookies. They even distracted Henry, who obviously had something on his mind. He sniffed and walked immediately into the kitchen.

  “I am so hungry,” Henry said, grabbing an entire plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I’m starving. All the time. I never used to be this hungry, Tut.”

  “It’s puberty,” I said.

  He threw a cookie at me in reply, which I, of course, caught with my lightning-fast reflexes.

  “It’s not puberty,” Henry said. “It’s all that energy from your scarab heart. Ever since … you know … I’ve been hungry all the time.”

  I had noticed how Henry was always wanting to go out to eat. And he’d eaten more scones at my townhouse than I had.

  Hapi was already out of sight. He’d probably gone downstairs to the basement to tattle to Auntie N. I didn’t want to go anywhere near the basement—that’s where they kept the mummified bodies—so I grabbed a couple peanut butter cookies, and Henry and I walked into the salon. And Great Osiris, there Tia was, setting down a plate of cookies. She didn’t have an apron on like I’d imagined. But she still looked really cute with her cargo pants and combat boots and jewelry-store-worthy collection of bracelets and necklaces.

  “I had no idea you were such a Betty Crocker,” I said, biting into a cookie. It was every bit as good as Hapi had said.

  “Don’t you say another word.” Tia challenged me with her eyes, daring me to open my mouth.

  I took another bite. “This cookie is amazing.”

  “They aren’t for you.” Tia walked over and grabbed the unbitten cookie from my hand. Her fingers just barely brushed against mine, and it sent all sorts of stupid shivers through me. This being fourteen stuff was getting really old.

  “What are you two doing here?” Tia said. She tried to grab the plate of chocolate chip cookies from Henry, but he was too fast. He stepped back and shoved an entire cookie into his mouth. And then he tried to say something but it was impossible to tell what because his mouth was full.

  “Nothing,” I said. “We were hanging out with Hapi.” I tried to sound all cool when I said it, like hanging out with the gods was something I did on a daily basis. Well, it was, but I didn’t really count Horus.

  Tia lowered her voice. “Why’s he so mad?”

  I still didn’t want to tell Tia about the sun disk, so I came up with something on the spot.

  “We went out to eat,” I said. “But they messed up his order.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Tut,” Tia said.

  “I’m not—” I started, but Henry cut me off.

  “Do you think I can go downstairs and talk to them?” Henry said.

  “In the basement?” I said. Henry had been here with me before. He knew what was down there. It was a giant crazy mummification experiment gone wrong. No one in their right mind would go down to the basement by choice.

  “Auntie Isis isn’t here,” Tia said. “She went away.”

  “I know,” Henry said. “But I want to talk to her sister.”

  “Where’d she go?” I asked, hoping to catch Tia off guard.

  “I can’t tell you that,” Tia said, and I couldn’t believe that she would know something like that when I didn’t.

  “So I can go downstairs?” Henry said. “I wanted to ask Auntie N something.”

  “Sure,” Tia said, rearranging the cookies on the plates.

  Hope filled Henry’s face. “Great. Come on, Tut.”

  Was he serious? I couldn’t think of a single reason why I would voluntarily go into a mummification parlor when I could stay here talking to Tia instead.

  “I’m fine. You can go alone.”

  “You said you’d come with me,” Henry said.

  “I said I’d come with you here, to the funeral home,” I clarified. “And here we are.”

  But Henry was having none of it. “Come on, Tut. I need you with me. Seriously.”

  And even though no part of me wanted to go with him, he was my friend. So I gave a quick smile to Tia, then followed Henry down the steps.

  The heavy scent of natron hit my nose by the second step. I resisted the urge to plug my nostrils. What did Henry need to talk to Auntie N about, anyway?

  Hapi stood near the center of the room, in between a couple open caskets. Next to the caskets sat the tables with the five canopic jars. I still didn’t know what they were putting in that fifth canopic
jar, and I didn’t want to find out.

  In front of Hapi, with her back to us, stood someone who could only be Nephthys. She was patting Hapi’s head, like she was calming him down, but no sooner had our feet hit the last step than she whirled around to face us.

  “Nephthys?” I said, wondering if I should go right for the casual “Auntie N” salutation. I hadn’t seen her in a while, yet I would have recognized her in a second. Nephthys looked like some kind of Bohemian gypsy. Her hair was long and dark brown with a scarf tied around the top, leaving the rest to hang straight down, covering her shoulders. She wore patchwork pants that fit snugly around her wide hips and a long necklace of Buddhist prayer beads. This all seemed kind of normal, but Nephthys was far from normal. In the middle of her forehead was a third eyeball.

  She pressed a palm to the extra eyeball. “Tutankhamun!” she hollered across the room, like it was some sort of surprise party. At least she recognized me. It was a good start.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” I avoided looking around the basement as I answered, because I knew it was filled with natron and hooks and knives and all the other creepy things needed for mummification.

  I hated mummification. Whatever happened to me after I died, I was not going to have my brains pulled out of my nose.

  “I saw you coming!” she yelled. She hurried across the room, bumping into caskets with her large hips. They wobbled but didn’t fall over. Hapi cringed and hurried after her to steady them.

  I thought she was going to hug me, but instead she grabbed both my shoulders and pulled me close. And then she fixed that third eyeball right on me and stared. I got the very weird, distinct feeling that she was looking directly into my soul. My scarab heart began to warm.

  I heard Henry gasp behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around. I couldn’t pull away from Nephthys. Immortal energy flared in my fingertips, and all my old powers, which had felt like they’d been trapped for the last six months—my Osiris-given powers—broke free, like a dam had broken. I wanted to use them all, to do all the things I used to be able to do. The energy strengthened.