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Authors: R.L. Stine

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BOOK: The Haunting Hour
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Halfway up the steep slope his leg muscles began to cramp. With a troubled sigh Ned slipped into the dark opening of a cave. He dropped to the dusty cave floor and rubbed his aching leg muscles.

Despite the heat of the day, the cave felt cool and damp. Ned leaned his head against the wall and shut his eyes.

I have been walking for two days. Perhaps a short nap will refresh me, he thought. Then I shall continue my journey to the top.

He didn't sleep long. A shrill whistling awoke him. It sounded like a thousand flies droning in his ear.

Ned's eyes shot open—and he let out a cry.

Giant albino cave rats!

They had dragged a goat into the cave and were eating it alive!

The goat kicked and squealed. But the rats swarmed over it—dozens of them. They held it down with their fat, white-furred bodies and buried their fangs in its belly, ripping away chunk after chunk of red flesh.

I'm next! Ned thought. As soon as they discover me…

Too late to run. Whistling and chattering, the cave rats turned from the now-silent goat—and scurried around Ned.

They were as big as dogs, with long fangs still dripping with goat blood. They had round red eyes that glowed like burning embers.

Their fat pink tails slapped the stone cave floor, beating a terrifying rhythm of attack. The circle tightened, and the ugly creatures began to shriek as they closed in on Ned.


Eeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeee!

Their shrill cries sliced through Ned's head, so loud he covered both ears.

And jumped to his feet.

The albino rats were as tall as his waist! Their snapping jaws competed with the
thumpthumpthumpthump
of their battering tails.

“I'LL MAKE YOU A BARGAIN!” Ned yelled.

Startled by his shout, the rats stopped their shrieks. The glowing red eyes burned like fires against the blackness of the cave.

“Here is my bargain,” Ned announced. “If you give me half a
chance, I'll run away and never come back!”

He didn't give them time to decide. He jammed his hands onto the tops of the heads of the two nearest cave rats—and leapfrogged over them.

Then he took off, racing out of the cave and up the steep, rocky side of Stone Hill. From below came the albino rats' shrieking and whistling. But he knew the rats wouldn't chase after him. They couldn't survive in sunlight for long.

By the time Ned reached the top of the hill, his heart was thudding and his legs felt heavy as lead. The sun was a red ball sinking behind the hill, giving everything a rosy glow.

Ned struggled to catch his breath. He gazed at the cave opening in front of him. It rose like a giant triangle. Enormous bones, dry and bleached white by the sun, were strewn at the entrance.

Those are too big to be human bones, Ned told himself. But the ugly sight made his chest feel fluttery and his stomach lurch.

“Oh!” Ned cried out as a low grunt echoed from the cave. He heard rumbling footsteps. Another grunt. A sour odor floated out and washed over him. Holding his breath, he took a step back.

The dragon is in there, he knew. He suddenly realized his whole body was shaking.

A bellowing roar from deep in the cave made the stones shake beneath the peasant boy's feet. I have no choice, he told himself. I have to go through with this. But I am terrified. Will I be able to speak?

He sucked in a long, deep breath. The air tasted foul and damp.

“Ulrick!” he called. “Ulrick—my name is Ned, and I have come to see you!”

He didn't have to wait long. He heard another grunt. And then more heavy, plodding footsteps. The ground shook again, and the
cave appeared to explode, as a giant brown creature burst out and rose over Ned. A dragon bigger and more fierce than any in Sir Darkwind's collection.

Its roar made the tree limbs shake. The dragon snapped its jaws, revealing rows of jagged yellow teeth. It clicked its long talons as if preparing to pounce.

Leathery wings flapped furiously on its back. Its huge round eyes gaped at Ned like two cold, dark suns. As it lowered its massive head over him, hot yellow drool splashed from its open maw and sizzled on the ground.

It—it's going to swallow me! Ned realized. He dropped to the ground, trying to shield himself with both hands.

The dragon lowered its huge head…lower…lower…until Ned felt its burning hot breath on the back of his neck.

Then the creature opened its jaws wide, wide enough to swallow Ned whole.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” the dragon bellowed.

Ned dropped flat on his back, nearly smothered by the creature's hot breath. “You—you talk?” he choked out.

“Of course!” Ulrick boomed. The dragon's round eyes flashed like solid black marbles, reflecting nothing. “All dragons speak when there is something to say!”

The boy and the dragon held a long staring match. Finally Ned's terror faded enough for him to stand and find his voice.

“Ulrick, why do you stay by yourself up here?” he asked. “Are you not lonely? Why don't you join the other dragons down below?”

The dragon tossed back its head and roared. It arched its leathery back and raised sharp talons as if ready to attack. Again, it lowered its head inches from Ned's.

“Live with the Dragon Master?” Ulrick bellowed. “Do you know
anything
about the Dragon Master, Ned?”

Ned swallowed hard—and waited for the pain of having his head bitten off. He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

“All my brothers and sisters used to roam free, in peace,” Ulrick boomed. “We are no threat to humans. We do not hunt for animal flesh. We eat only the Gorsel bushes and the red berries that grow on them.”

Ulrick bumped Ned's shoulder with its snout. “Do you know how the great Dragon Master captured all his dragons?”

Ned rubbed his shoulder. “Uh…no.”

“HE DESTROYED ALL THE GORSEL BUSHES EXCEPT HIS OWN!” Ulrick bellowed. “The dragons had a choice—starve or be captured. As soon as the dragons followed him home, Sir Darkwind clipped their wings. He whips them and keeps them penned up. He charges a fee to see them. And he forces the dragons to roar and battle each other for the crowds.”

Ulrick's chest heaved up and down. In a roar of fury the dragon snapped open its jaws.

The wave of hot breath sent Ned onto his back once again. He stared up helplessly as, wings flapping, the mighty dragon roared and raged.

“And now you want to capture ME and add ME to Sir Darkwind's sad collection?” it boomed. “NEVER! NEVER!”

A shadow swept over Ned. The shadow of the dragon's giant head.

“Noooo!” Ned let out a scream as the jaws closed around him. The pointed teeth dug into Ned's chest and back.

And then the dragon lifted him, lifted him easily off the ground.

Ned thrashed and squirmed like a worm caught in a bird's beak.

The dragon tilted its head back to swallow him.

“NO! WAIT!” Ned wailed. “WAIT! NO! PLEASE! NO! NOOOOOO!”

 

The next morning the servant Gregory arose early and went out to check on the dragons. The sun, still low over the trees, hadn't burned through the morning fog.

Gregory carried the water bucket to the trough where the dragons drank. Around the pen the dragons groaned and stretched sleepily.

Staring into the damp gray mist, Gregory let out a startled cry. The water bucket fell from his hands. “D-dragon!” he exclaimed.

Was it just a shadow in the fog?

No. An enormous dragon was lumbering toward Sir Darkwind's house, swinging its head from side to side, wings fluttering on its back.

In his excitement Gregory tripped over the water bucket as he ran to the house. “Sir Darkwind! Sir Darkwind!” he shouted. “A dragon approaches!”

The Dragon Master was just finishing his breakfast. He jumped up from the table, egg running down his bearded chin, and hurried to the door. Squinting into the fog, he clapped his hands joyfully.

“It is Ulrick!” he declared. “My collection is complete. Ulrick is coming to join the others.”

“But where is the boy?” Gregory asked. “The boy is nowhere to be seen.”

The Dragon Master peered out from the doorway. “You are right, Gregory. The dragon comes alone.” He tossed his head back in a cruel laugh. “Ulrick probably had the boy for breakfast!”

“But then why has the dragon come here?” Gregory asked.

“Go see,” Sir Darkwind said. He gave Gregory a hard push out the door. “Go see at once—while I wait in the safety of the house.”

His legs trembling, his heart fluttering in his chest, Gregory obeyed his master. He stepped up to the dragon, took a deep breath, and shouted up to it: “Ulrick—the Dragon Master demands to know: Why have you come?”

Ulrick gazed down at the trembling servant. The dragon's eyes were cold and blank, like two black rocks. It snorted loudly, a sound that made Gregory quiver all the more.

In the pen beside the house all the other dragons had lined up. They stood very still, watching the newcomer.

Gregory glanced back and saw the Dragon Master waving his hands impatiently.

“Sir Darkwind desires to know why you have come,” the servant repeated, unable to stop his voice from cracking with fear.

With a sudden motion the huge dragon swung down its head and almost bumped Gregory to the ground. Gregory gasped and leaped back.

And then slowly, very slowly, the dragon opened its massive jaws.

“Oh nooooo,” Gregory moaned. He saw the boy's head inside the dragon's mouth. The head, eyes shut, rested on the creature's fat red tongue.

“You have eaten him!” the servant shouted. “You have eaten the boy!”

Gregory couldn't bear the awful sight. He spun around wildly. “Sir Darkwind! Horrors! Horrors! The dragon—it—it…”

“What is it?” the Dragon Master called from the house. “What are you trying to say?”

“The d-dragon—” Gregory stammered. “Sir Darkwind! Sir Darkwind! You must come and see this! You must come at once!” And then he fainted to the ground in a heap.

What must I see? Sir Darkwind wondered. Why is the dragon standing there with its mouth open like that?

The Dragon Master cautiously stepped out of the house. As he strode up to the dragon, the dragon turned and opened its jaws wider.

And Sir Darkwind saw the boy's head, resting so comfortably on the fat tongue.

He saw the boy's dark hair matted wetly to his forehead. And saw the boy's peacefully shut eyes.

Sir Darkwind scowled up at the dragon. “Did you think that would shock me? You have wasted your time, Ulrick!”

“I do not think so,” Ned said, opening his eyes. “I
knew
this would get you out of the house!”

He freed his arms from the dragon's throat, then grabbed hold of the massive teeth and pulled himself out. Lowering himself to the ground, he brushed back his hair and wiped dragon drool off the front of his smock.

Sir Darkwind's eyes bulged in surprise. “How—how have you done this, boy?”

“I made a bargain with the dragon,” Ned said. “Just as you instructed me.”

The Dragon Master's face filled with confusion. “And now the dragon is mine?” he asked.

“Not quite,” Ned replied. “That isn't the bargain.”

He rubbed his hands dry on the side of his smock. “You see, before the Sorcerer Margolin disappeared, he taught me many of his spells,” Ned said. “And now I'm going to show you one of my favorites.”

Ned waved his hands, mumbled several strange-sounding words—and the Dragon Master began to change.

His body appeared to melt. His face sank into his body. Leafy limbs sprouted all around him. And bright-red berries popped out around the leaves.

Ned mumbled a few more words. And then he smiled. The spell had worked. He had turned Sir Darkwind into a Gorsel bush.

The dragons all roared happily. Tears the size of raindrops, tears of joy, poured from their ancient eyes.

“My mission was to destroy the Dragon Master and free the dragons,” Ned said. “But first I had to trick him into leaving the house! As you can see, I have succeeded.”

“You have kept your bargain with me,” Ulrick said. It gazed down at the Gorsel bush. “How long will your spell last?”

“I don't know,” Ned replied. “It doesn't really matter—does it?”

“No. Not really,” Ulrick replied.

And then Ulrick bent its head low and began to devour the bush and its tasty berries.

INTRODUCTION

ILLUSTRATED BY
J
OHN
J
UDE
P
ALENCAR

T
he museum in my hometown was very small. When we visited there on school trips, my friends and I always headed to the same place—the mummy room.

I'd lean over the big stone case and stare down at the ancient mummy. He seemed to stare back at me through the layers of gauze and tar. His arms were crossed over his slender chest. The gauze wrapped around his body was stained and torn.

One day our fourth-grade class visited the museum. I headed straight for the mummy room. I was staring down at the ancient figure when a few of my friends decided to be funny.

As I leaned over the case, they grabbed me. They lifted me off the floor—and started to drop me headfirst into the case.

I let out a scream. I didn't want to fall on top of that mummy. I didn't want to touch him.

Luckily my friends saw a guard approaching. They quickly pulled me out and stood me on my feet.

Ever since that close call, I've always wondered what it would be like to lie on the bottom of a cold, ancient mummy case.

This is a story about a boy who finds out.

I
gazed over
Joanna Levin's shoulder into the glass display case. A small sign above the case read: ANCIENT EGYPTIAN ART. Bracelets and necklaces and long golden earrings gleamed under the bright lights.

“Wow. They're incredible!” Joanna declared. She poked her finger against the glass. “I want that one and that one.”

I shook my head. “They're from four thousand years ago, Joanna. They probably cost millions.”

Joanna shoved me away. “It's
my
birthday,” she said. “Why can't I pick out a few presents?”

“It's not a gift shop. It's a museum,” I replied.

She shoved me again. “Connor, you're about as much fun as a toothache.”

“This is a cool party, Joanna!” Abbey Foreman called from across the room.

“What a great idea,” Debra said. “Having your birthday party at the science museum.”

“And we have the whole museum to ourselves,” Joanna said.

My friend Josh tugged my arm. “Check it out, Connor. The mummy room. Over there.”

Josh and I made our way to the next room, our shoes clicking on the hard tile floors.

The mummy room was small and dimly lit. It had a low green ceiling, which made the room seem even darker.

Photographs of the pyramids in Egypt hung on one wall. In front of the photos stood a pile of crumbling yellow bricks. A sign said they were actual stones from King Tut's burial tomb.

Two big stone mummy cases sat a few feet apart in the middle of the room. The cases were open, their stone lids propped against the wall opposite the photos.

Josh and I ran up to the first case. It was tall and deep. We had to stand on tiptoe to see into it.

I leaned on the case and peered down. The smooth stone felt cold on my hands. “Empty,” I said.

“It looks like a huge bathtub,” Josh said. “Do you believe that a dead person actually was in here?”

Joanna and the other kids gathered around the other case. “Oh, gross,” Debra Fair groaned, making a disgusted face.

Josh and I squeezed in next to her and gazed down at the mummy. Its head and body were completely wrapped with gauze. The gauze was stained and torn in spots. You could see the black tar underneath.

One eye had become uncovered. The empty eye socket was filled with tar.

“Yuck,” Joanna said. “Do you think there are millions of bugs crawling around inside it?”

“Bugs can't get in,” I told her. “The bodies were completely emptied. Then they were covered in hot tar before they were wrapped. They were wrapped too tightly for anything to get in. And the coffin lids were sealed tight. No way bugs could get in.”

Joanna frowned at me. “Connor, how come you know so much about mummies?”

I shrugged. “I just do.”

Rising on tiptoe, I turned back to the ancient mummy. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. He seemed to stare up at me with that one tarry eye.

“Do you know how they got the brains out of his head?” I asked Joanna. “They used a long tool to go up into the skull. Then they pulled the brain out through his nose.”

“Ohhh, sick,” Joanna groaned.

“Shut up, Connor!” Abbey cried.

Josh and I laughed.

“Let's get out of here,” Joanna said, hurrying to the door. “Let's go look at the sphinx.”

The others turned away from the mummy case and followed her to the next room. Their voices echoed off the tile walls.

Josh and I stayed behind. We both studied the mummy for a while.

“I wonder how old he was when he died,” I said. “People didn't live very long back then. Most of them died in their twenties.”

“Maybe he was just a kid,” Josh said. “Wait! What's in there?” He pointed to a half-open door in the corner.

I followed him over to it and peeked inside. “It's just a supply closet,” I said.

“But check this out, Connor.” Josh bent into the closet and pulled out a ball of something. “Strips of cloth,” he said. He started to pull it apart.

“They probably use it for dusting,” I said.

“But it looks a lot like mummy gauze,” Josh replied. “There's piles and piles of it in there.” He laughed. “Enough to make our own mummy.”

I stared at Josh. Josh stared back at me.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking?” I asked.

He was.

We had to work fast. It was a simple plan. Josh wrapped me up in the cloth until I looked like a mummy. Then I climbed into the empty mummy case. I crossed my arms over my chest and stretched out.

“Quick. Go get Joanna,” I said. The layer of cloth muffled my voice. “Hurry, Josh. It's hard to breathe.”

Josh peered down at me. I could barely see him through the gauze. “After I bring Joanna and the others, you sit up very very
slowly, okay? And whisper Joanna's name.”

“Got it,” I said.

“She'll jump out of her skin!” Josh exclaimed.

“Just hurry…” I begged. “My face itches, and I can't scratch. And it's hot in here.”

He disappeared. I settled against the stone case bottom. I tried to relax, but I was really uncomfortable.

The stone was hard. And I was already sweating.

I shut my eyes and counted to ten.

Where are they? What is taking so long?

Finally I heard voices. I sucked in a deep breath and held it. It would spoil the joke if someone saw me breathing.

Poor Joanna, I thought. In a few seconds I'm going to scare her to death!

The voices came closer. I could hear them right above me.

My heart started to race. Time to do my mummy act, I told myself.

Slowly, very slowly, I raised my head and began to sit up. “
Joanna…
” I whispered.

I waited for the screams.

Instead, I heard a man's voice. “Prince Akor, there you are.”

“Huh?” I gasped. I sat up straight.

“We have been searching for you,” the man said.

“Whoa. I'm s-sorry?” I stammered. He's a museum guard, I thought. He's caught me in this valuable mummy case. I'm in major trouble.

I fumbled with the strips of cloth and managed to tug the cloth away from my eyes. “I—I'm really sorry,” I started. “It was just a joke. I—”

I gasped as I saw the men standing around the mummy case.

They were short and thin and very tanned. Their heads were shaved bald.

They wore knee-length white robes that looked a lot like girls' dresses. And leather sandals with straps that went all the way up their legs.

I frantically tore away strips of cloth. “Who…are you?” I asked.

And as I stared at them in shock, I realized that the room had changed. The dark, tiled museum walls were gone, as was the low green ceiling. These walls were made of bright-yellow brick that seemed to reach up to the sky. The room was enormous!

The other mummy case had vanished. Flaming torches hung on the walls. A giant golden statue of an owl towered over the doorway.

My mind was spinning. “This…this is unreal,” I whispered.

An older man in a long white gown reached out a tiny tanned hand to help me from the case. He had bright-blue eyes and a tight smile. Wrapped around his head was a white-and-blue headdress that hung down over the sides of his face to his shoulders.

“Prince Akor,” he said. “So this is where you are hiding. We have been searching for you since the sun's first light.”

“Prince
what?
” I cried. “There is a big mix-up here. I'm—I'm not a prince.” My voice came out high and shrill. I was so frightened, so stunned and confused, I didn't sound like me at all.

His smile faded. Those bright-blue eyes burned into mine. “Fear not,” the man said. “You are in my hands, Prince Akor. As you have always been.”

“But—but—you don't understand!” I sputtered. “I don't know how I got here. I—”

“We all know why you were hiding here,” the man said, nodding solemnly. He placed his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them.
“We cast no blame for your terror.”

“My
—what?
” I cried out again.

The man turned to the others. I counted six of them, all tanned and bald, all standing stiffly in their white robes. “Priests, take the prince to the altar,” he ordered.

They all bowed their heads in unison. “Yes, High Priest,” they said.

“No. Wait!” I shouted. “It's a mistake! I—I've got to find Joanna and the other kids.”

I took off. I didn't know who these men were. I just knew I had to get away.

I started for the door, but the men surrounded me. They formed a tight wedge and forced me to move with them. The High Priest led the way.

“You're making a big mistake!” I shouted. “I'm not who you think I am!”

We walked through a long, wide tunnel lighted by torches all along the wall. The tunnel seemed endless. My legs shook so hard, I could barely walk. My brain spun with questions.

How did this happen? I asked myself. This looks like ancient Egypt. But how can that be? Who is Prince Akor? Where are these men taking me?

The tunnel led to a big chamber that reminded me of a church. The altar at one end was covered with tall candles. Black cats stalked everywhere. A large golden sun hung across from the altar.

“All bow to Ra, the God of Sunlight,” the High Priest ordered. The priests all bowed, murmuring strange words to themselves.

The High Priest stepped forward and took my hand. “I am sorry for your fear, Prince Akor. But it will not last long.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a squeak came out. My
heart was beating too hard for me to talk!

The High Priest led me away from the altar. We crossed to the other end of the vast chamber.

“Oh no,” I said when I saw what stretched across the back of the room. An enormous square pit of bubbling tar.

“We have all heard of the plot against your life,” the High Priest said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Your enemies plan to murder you—and leave your body unmummified. These evil ones plan to rob you of your afterlife!”

I stared at him. My mouth dropped open. His words weren't making any sense to me.

Was he saying that someone planned to kill the Prince? And not turn him into a mummy?

I knew that the ancient Egyptians believed in life after death. And I knew they believed that a body had to be mummified in order to have a life after death. But what did all that have to do with me?

“Fear not,” the High Priest said, taking my hand again. “I have taken care of you since childhood, my Prince. I shall not allow these enemies of Egypt to rob you of your afterlife. I will mummify you
today
!”

“No!” I finally found my voice. I finally understood what he was saying.

BOOK: The Haunting Hour
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