Tut (24 page)

*   *   *

My memories shifted, and I sat with my mother in the palm house. Life sure changed after my brother's death. I had all sorts of responsibilities. All kinds of training. I was destined to be pharaoh after my father, but I had no clue how to rule a country. I had tutors for every subject possible, so education took up the bulk of each day. I had to learn manners and foreign languages and how to be a good moral judge. It hurt my head. Most of it I hated.

My mom knew exactly how I felt and insisted I get time with her each day. We'd spend our time in the palm house, which was connected through a breezeway to the main palace. It was our special place, and when we were there, no one else was allowed in. The servants would bring us a light snack, most of which I would feed to the fish. My mom would tell me stories while I played in the pond and studied the plants. I would pretend I had important tasks to do, cataloguing the different species, just so she would stay with me a bit longer. She always went along with my games. She told me of all the magnificent things I would do when I became pharaoh. How wise and just I'd be. I believed her.

I remembered the day her voice fell silent. She'd been telling me a story about how the world was created with a cosmic egg. Even though it was a long story about religion, which had never been my favorite subject, the way my mom told it had me laughing and crying in the span of minutes. She'd just finished a particularly sad part. I thought she was taking a break. Having a sip of wine. I kept feeding the fish and hid my tears so she wouldn't think I was weak.

When she didn't begin talking again, I looked in her direction. She lay slumped over on the bench.

“Mother!” I rushed to her side.

“I don't feel so well, Tut,” she said. “I need help.”

It was too late by the time I got help. My mother was dead.

Horemheb had been behind it. He'd been in control of the death reports. It was no wonder foul play had never been found. I should have been suspicious because, when my tears fell into the pond, all the fish were dead, too … from the food I'd been feeding them.

*   *   *

My mind shifted again, but this time it was no memory. I stared down at my own dead body, laid out in the sarcophagus made of granite. Natron covered every part of me except my face. Even though I was dead, my entire body ached, like all my insides had been pulled out while I was still alive. Like somehow I was dead in the sarcophagus and yet still alive.

“You will die, Tutankhamun,” the voice in my head said. “You will fail at everything in life and then you will die. You are a failure. You are worthless. You are the reason your family is dead.”

It was my worst fear.

This wasn't real.

This wasn't going to happen.

And I'd had enough.

*   *   *

I pushed the images away. They came back with twice the strength, nearly dropping me to the ground with the horror of emotions they brought. Memories from my past and visions from my future flooded me. I pushed harder against them.
Failure
.
Worthless
. The words were repeated over and over again.

I was not a failure. I was not going to be a part of these visions. And I didn't have time for games.

I plunged my hands into the golden liquid. It began to coil and twist like liquid mercury. I tried to pull my hands out, but they were locked in place. The golden liquid seeped into my pores. I tried to push it out, but it was no use. It burrowed inside me. And then it was gone.

At the bottom of the empty bowl lay the knife. Three gemstones decorated the hilt, and the blade was pure gold. The only time I'd seen it had been in Horemheb's unworthy hand in the cemetery.

Now it was within my reach.

I grabbed the knife and held it victoriously over my head. I would have my revenge.

 

20

WHERE I STEAL THE HOLY SCEPTER OF SET

No sooner was my hand out of the bowl than the golden liquid regenerated.

Tia stared at me with wide eyes. “You're crying.” She took a step forward and her arms moved out a little, like she wanted to hug me but wasn't sure if she should.

I stepped to the side, out of her reach. “It's nothing.” I tucked the knife into the waist of my jeans.

“Are you sure?” She reached up like she was going to wipe my cheek.

I didn't want her pity. I wanted revenge on the person who'd made those memories part of my past in the first place.

“I'm fine,” I said, willing my eyes to dry up. “Now what?”

“Tut…” Tia's blue eyes pulled me in. Made me want to trust her.

Gods, I just wanted to trust someone. Why did the world have to be such a difficult place filled with people who all had their own agendas?

“I promise. I got what I wanted. Now what do you need me to do?”

Tia blinked a few times, and I swear there were tears in her eyes. Or maybe I was imagining it because I wanted her to care. But she had her own agenda just like everyone else in the world.

“I need you to get the scepter of Set,” she finally said. She pointed across the temple to the looming statue of Set.

The scepter was so small that I'd missed it before. Set held it in an upraised hand, resting it on his palm. Torchlight bounced off it, casting gold sparkles everywhere. It was up kind of high, but aside from that, it was just sitting there, not even bolted down. “What do you need my help for? Couldn't you just use a ladder?”

Tia looked like it pained her to admit she needed help. “Only an immortal can take the scepter from the hands of Set.” She scuffed her feet, kicking a few of the overgrown leaves out of the way.

“Oh.” For a second, an overwhelming feeling that she was using me set in. But then I looked at her, and her blue eyes looked into mine, and I knew I'd steal the scepter for her. Tia wasn't the kind of person who liked to ask for help. That was obvious. And her quest—this whole thing about reuniting the gods—well, at least it wasn't self-serving. She had a noble cause. She was trying to help the world. It made my whole quest for vengeance seem petty.

“Just tell me what I need to do,” I said.

Relief flooded Tia's face. “Thank you, Tut.” She hugged me really quick and pulled away, not meeting my eyes.

My face had to be bright red. Tia had hugged me. I tried not to think about it too much. I was still in the den of the Cult of Set. My life was in danger.

“You're welcome,” I said.

“Okay, so here's what you need to do,” Tia said. “Climb up onto the statue and grab the scepter. Oh, and try not to grow any more flowers, will you?”

I ignored her jibe about the flowers. She was back to her usual sarcastic self.

“That sounds easy enough,” I said. “And then what?”

“Then run.”

I handed her my backpack and started forward. I'm not sure how many times I turned to check the entrance. The closer I got to the statue, the more I actually wished someone would come through the door and catch me, forcing me to run away. Set was scary—like the worst mummy movie come true. When I looked up at him, I swear I saw saliva dripping from his fangs. Or maybe it was blood. I couldn't see the color in the torchlight.

“It's only a statue,” I muttered, but I knew I'd probably turned green.

“Did you say something?” Tia whispered.

No way was I going to let her think I was scared of some stupid statue. Even if each step I took made my knees feel like collapsing under me.

“No, nothing,” I said. But then I started to lose control, and within seconds, the trees burst into motion. Branches sprouted, twisting toward the ground under the weight of the leaves and flowers that filled them. Petals fell, blanketing the temple floor. And the tallest trees pushed at the sanctuary ceiling, groaning as they were pushed back by the beams overhead.

“Stop it!” Tia said. “The priests are going to come back.”

“It's not the priests I'm worried about.”

I looked Set right in the eye. Searing pain tore through my side. I collapsed onto the floor. In my whole life, I'd never felt anything like it.

“Holy Sekhmet! Are you all right?” Tia knelt on the ground next to me.

Through my tunnel vision, I saw her face—forehead creased and bottom lip pressed between her teeth. The sight of her calmed me, and the white started to fade along with the pain.

“Just give me a second.”

“Are you going to die?” she asked. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I swear I saw concern on her face.

I wasn't sure how to respond. I mean, the whole thing made me feel so weak—so human. But my side hurt like I'd been bitten by a crocodile. I thought Isis's healing stuff had fixed me.

“Would that bother you?” I asked, having no idea what her answer would be. But if I'd had a list of possible responses, what she said next would have been last on the list. No, it wouldn't have even made the list.

“I guess we'll find out when they mummify you,” she said.

“What!” I jolted up, pain or no pain in my side.

“Quiet!” she said. “The priests!”

“I don't care about the priests,” I said. “What do you mean mummify me?”

She shrugged. “You know.”

“No, I don't know,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

She looked at the looming statue of Set, illuminated in full hideous glory by every torch in the room. “Just get the scepter, and then we can get out of here and talk about it.”

My mouth opened, but I wasn't sure what I was going to say. Here she was talking about mummification, and she still wanted me to steal some stinking scepter for her.

“Fine.” I stood up. The pain was gone, and I doubted it would be able to push past my anger and return. I glared up at the glistening teeth of the statue. Yes, Set was still scary. But I'd had about as much of this as I could take.

Set was six times as tall as me. But I was immortal. And I had no time to waste. I squatted down and sprang straight up, landing on Set's lower hand, the one he had clasped around the handle of the sickle. I scaled my way up the handle to his shoulder. From his shoulder, I climbed across his chest and out onto the arm that held the scepter. When I reached his upraised palm, I wrapped my fingers around the cold metal of the scepter.

The world around me turned to chaos.

Alarms began to blare, sounding like hyenas on steroids. Lights began to flash. I catapulted off Set's palm and landed on the ground.

“Give yourselves up to Great Set or face his terrible wrath!” an intercom voice boomed above the sound of the shrieking hyena alarms. Tia was already halfway out the door. Behind me was the sound of feet running on hard limestone. Great Osiris, the priests would be here any second.

“Run, Tut!” Tia said.

I didn't have to be told twice. The threats coming over the intercom of execution by dismemberment were enough to make me not want to get caught. My skin broke into a rash of goose bumps. It was one thing to live forever. It was another entirely to live forever cut into numerous pieces.

I tore after Tia. No way was I going to get caught now.

“Where do I find Horemheb?” I yelled as we ran. Now that I had the knife, I had to complete the job.

“You have to get out of here, Tut,” Tia said, leading us left and then right and then left again. “Everyone's going to be looking for you.”

“But I need to kill Horemheb.”

“Not now. You got the knife. Horemheb will come to you.”

Tia made a valid point. This place was pandemonium. At every turn, guards searched for us. I'd leave, and when Horemheb came looking for the knife, I'd kill him then.

“How do I get out? The river?”

“I'll show you. But you need to hide until things calm down.”

“I don't want to hide like a coward. I want to fight Horemheb.”

“Will you fight the entire Cult of Set?” Tia asked.

Another good point. Horemheb I could handle with the knife. But an entire security force added unneeded complications. My backpack full of supplies wasn't going to put much of a dent in them.

Tia shoved open a door. We ran inside and locked it. I could still hear the sirens, though they were dulled by the thick wooden door.

“Give me the scepter.” She dropped my backpack to the ground and held her other hand out.

“You forgot to say please,” I said, holding the scepter out of her reach.

“Now, Tut,” she said. “Before someone decides to look in here.”

I started to hand the scepter over to her but stopped. It was pretty—all shiny and gold. Would taking it away really weaken Set? Maybe I should keep it. Horus would think he'd gone to kitty heaven if I brought this thing home.

Tia reached out for it, but I pulled it back so her fingers closed over empty air.

“Not so fast.” I turned it over to see the hieroglyphic engravings. “Chaos,” I read, turning it to see some more. “Power. Storms.”

“Now, Tut.”

“The magic word?”

“Please?” Tia gritted her teeth like it pained her to lower herself to that level.

“Fine.” I handed it over. Sure, Horus would like it, but I wasn't going to betray Tia. She'd trusted me. And I was not a betrayer like Horemheb.

The second Tia's hands grabbed it, I swear she glowed. But then the glow went away just as quickly.

“Happy now?” I asked. “Forget it—I don't care. What did you mean about the mummification?”

“I meant what I said.” She tucked the scepter into a deep side pocket of her cargo pants. “If you get caught, they're going to mummify you. Some ceremonial thing. Great Anubis, they're even planning on building that gaudy golden pyramid to put your mummified body in.”

“You think it's gaudy?” Maybe it was a stupid thing to ask, but the pyramid was actually way cool.