Tut (6 page)

“We'll look at it while he's gone.” But no sooner had Seth grabbed the book than he dropped it on the linoleum floor like it burned him, making a loud boom that echoed around the entire library.

Dust lifted up from the book. At least, I thought it was dust until I noticed that it was black and swirling around in circles and smelled like sulfur. But before this had time to register, Brandon threw up all over the floor and the book.

We jumped up from our table to get out of the way.

“It's the curse of King Tut,” Henry said, grabbing his notebook like he was going to record the whole incident in purple Sharpie.

“It's not the curse of King Tut. It's probably food poisoning,” I said. The curse had no interest in the public library. It had bigger things to worry about. Things like Set and Osiris and battles for immortal dominance. I looked back to the book. Whatever black stuff I'd seen there was gone. And the only smell remaining was the contents of Brandon's stomach.

“You saw what happened. He was reading the King Tut book and then he threw up,” Seth said.

I couldn't believe Seth was actually agreeing with Henry.

“And what about all these bugs?” Tia stomped on another roach. Her jewelry clinked together like musical instruments.

Wait, she thought it was the curse also? This was the problem with propaganda. It spread faster than a sandstorm and it never went away.

“What about them?” I said. “There are bugs everywhere.”

“They're part of the curse,” Seth said.

“There is no curse,” I said.

“Right,” Seth said. “And mythology isn't real, either, is it?” He acted like he'd said something clever and waited for my response.

What did he think I was going to say? That mythology was real? That all the Egyptian gods were among us, even if we had no clue where most of them were? Sure, I knew where Horus was, seeing as how he lived with me, but otherwise, I hadn't seen a god in the last century.

“Of course it's not,” I said.

Given the mess on the floor, librarians started clearing us out. I texted Gil to come pick me up. His reply came fast.

already waiting out front
he texted, like he'd known something was wrong. He must've talked to Horus. I could imagine the lecture I was going to get.

can you meet me in back?
I texted back. I knew the reaction he'd get from Henry, Seth, and Tia, and I wanted to avoid it.

No response. I hoped that meant yes.

“Well, I guess I'll see you all tomorrow,” I said, heading toward the back door.

Henry looked at me like I was speaking ancient Greek. “What about our project?”

“What about it?” I said. “The library is closing.”

“When are we going to work on it?” Henry said.

I shrugged. “I don't know. Soon?”

His face kind of relaxed. “Okay, see you soon.”

Which was not what I said at all.

*   *   *

Gil leaned against his black Mercedes, reading something off a scrap of paper. Like normal, he was decked out from head to toe in black. Black jeans. Black leather coat. Black hair. I'd never asked, but I bet he wore black boxers just to complete the look. He had a couple of scratches on his face, because Gil picked more fights than an alley cat.

“Why were you already here?” I asked when I reached the car.

Gil crumpled up the paper he was holding and dropped it to the pavement. It burst into flames. That's another thing about Gil. He got his powers from Nergal, a Sumerian god who had command of war and the sun in all of its destructive glory. Gil could do all sorts of cool things, like throw fireballs and melt metal. Me? I had roses and earthworms.

“What happened when you were recharging?” Gil asked the second the car doors shut.

“Where'd you go last night?” I countered. I'd still been awake when Gil got home, but I'd pretended to be asleep so I wouldn't have to hear his lecture. My conversation with Horus was bad enough. I heard them arguing down in the family room, and decided staying in my room was a good idea. And then I'd heard Gil storm out of the town house.

“I talked to Horus.” Gil blew his horn and pulled out into rush-hour traffic. “I'm sure you heard. I haven't seen Horus that agitated in years, and that's saying something. After that I went out to check the obelisk.”

“Did you see the name on the base of it?” Just thinking about it made shivers run up my spine. Revenge was going to be mine.

“Horemheb,” Gil said. “Horus told me, but I thought maybe it was some kind of joke.”

“Would I ever joke about Horemheb?” There were lots of things I'd joke around about, but revenge was not one of them. Gil knew how important it was to me. If anyone understood, he did. Just like my family had been killed, Gil's best friend had been killed. It was what bound us together thousands of years ago. Gil had met up with me not long after I'd escaped from my tomb. He told me the gods had sent him to protect me. Yeah, after the whole tomb fiasco, I wasn't too crazy about any mandate from the gods. Not to mention I didn't need protecting. So I'd ditched Gil first chance I got, leaving Egypt and heading to China.

Gil had followed. He found me stacking rocks, helping build the Great Wall of China. So I left again.

I'd tried everything: changed my appearance, hid among the people. But something changed along the way. It took centuries before I realized it. I was still hiding from Gil, but I expected him to find me. I wanted him to find me. It became a game. Until the time back in Greece when our immortality had almost been discovered. We'd had to flee, and while we were trying to escape, some kid got killed because of us. We never talked about it after it happened, but the games and the hiding stopped. And from then on, Gil and I roamed the world together, settling down wherever we wanted and living our immortal lives.

“If he's really back,” Gil said, “then we need to find a way to keep you safe.”

“Keep me safe? Are you kidding? Don't you see? This is the perfect opportunity.”

“For what?” Gil turned the final corner to our street and started looking for a spot.

“To kill him.” It was so obvious to me. How could Gil not see that?

“There's no way to kill an immortal.” Gil didn't look at me when he said it. Instead, he got way too interested in parallel parking in front of our town house.

“That's what Horus reminded me of last night,” I said. “But he's wrong. There must be a way.”

Gil shook his head. “Horus is right. It can't be done.” He answered way too fast. And I was overwhelmed by the feeling that he, like Horus, was lying to me. And maybe Horus wouldn't tell me, but Gil would.

“But…”

“But what?” Gil said.

“If it can't be done, then why do we have to worry about protecting me?” I asked.

Gil didn't have an immediate answer. I'd caught him.

“Well?”

“We just do,” Gil said. “I'll talk to Horus about strengthening the shields around the town house.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“That's all you have to say?” How was it that both Horus and Gil were keeping secrets from me?

“There's nothing else to say, okay?” Gil said. “Horemheb back means we need to be more careful.”

Gil was wrong. Horemheb back meant revenge.

“Anyway, I'm going out to get us dinner,” Gil said. “Any preference?”

My only preference was finding a way to kill Horemheb. I'd have to do it without Horus or Gil. I wasn't sure how I'd do this, but I'd do whatever it took. Talk to other gods—if I could find them. Pray to Osiris. Maybe I had to go back and visit my tomb. There could be some kind of clue there. Whatever it took, I would do it.

“No preference,” I said, and Gil sped off to get us dinner.

 

6

WHERE I NEARLY MUMMIFY AN INTRUDER

“Gil is out of his Sumerian mind,” Horus said before I'd even finished closing the door behind me. He paced back and forth on the top of the futon, and his spotted hair stood on end. Around the room, the shabtis were frantically working to contain the uneaten beetle population.

“You're both out of your minds,” I said. “I can't believe neither of you are taking this Horemheb thing more seriously.”

Horus leapt from the futon and confronted me by the entryway. “What did Gil tell you?”

I shoved my way past him into the family room. “Same as you. That there's no way to kill an immortal.”

“It figures,” Horus said.

“Of course it figures,” I said. “Because you're both lying to me.”

Horus flicked a scarab beetle across the room. Its feet started twitching the second it rolled onto its back, but a purple shabti named Lieutenant Roy ran over and flipped it right-side up.

“I was hoping he'd tell you,” Horus said.

Time stopped as I processed his comment. “Tell me what? How to kill Horemheb? Because I know there's a way. If there weren't, then why would Gil be so concerned about protecting me?”

“He wouldn't be,” Horus said.

My scarab heart hummed in my chest. Horus was going to tell me the secret he was keeping.

“Then tell me how to do it,” I said.

Horus jumped to the little perch by the door that allowed him to look out the peephole. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he did some sort of waving, circular thing in front of the door with his paw.

“What are you doing?”

He landed back on the ground and started pacing again. “Putting up a ward. It'll let us know when Gil gets close.”

I had no clue Horus could do that. He was full of surprises. “He's only getting dinner. You better hurry.”

“You're right.” Horus stopped in front of me. “Keep in mind that there's only one reason I'm about to tell you what I'm about to tell you.”

It didn't take a genius to figure it out. If Horemheb was back, that could only mean the Cult of Set's strength would increase. And if the Cult of Set got stronger, Set got stronger. Horus would never let that happen. To say Horus and Set despised each other would have been putting it mildly. There was this whole thing with a scratched-out-eye and torn-off … well, let's just not mention that part, but it had ended horribly.

“Set,” I said.

“Set,” Horus agreed.

“Horemheb is going to come after you,” Horus said. “You know that, right?”

I knew it. He'd made that clear with the obelisk.

“Let him come.” I'd finally have revenge.

“You need to be careful.”

“I get it,” I said. “Just tell me.”

“I'm not kidding, Tut.”

“Neither am I. And if you don't tell me soon, Gil will be home.”

Horus's eyes flicked to the door. “You can't tell him about this, Tutankhamun.”

Whoa. Had he really pulled out the full-name thing?

“I won't tell him,” I said. “I promise.”

Horus fixed his eye on me.

“I promise. I swear.”

“Promise made,” Horus said, and my chest tightened. When promises were made to the gods, they couldn't be broken.

“What do we do?” I asked.

“So for starters, you'll need power from the
Book of the Dead
. There's a spell you'll need to use.”

Every bit of energy in my scarab heart tingled. A spell from the
Book of the Dead
. As had been proven so well back in my tomb, I didn't have the power to use the spells. Only gods did.

“How much power?” If Horus granted me power over the
Book of the Dead
, I could do almost anything except kill someone.
Book of the Dead
spells couldn't be used for death. Horus had only granted me power once before, back during the Crusades. Some ridiculous fight had broken out between the gods and Horus needed me to perform a couple of miracles. In my immortal lifetime, the only thing that felt better than recharging my scarab heart was using the power from the
Book of the Dead
.

“Enough power,” Horus said. “You want revenge on Horemheb. And I want to stop Set. I have a plan, but you'll need a spell to make it work.”

Energy jumped in my scarab heart. My immortal dreams were about to come true. I'd dreamed about revenge from the moment I discovered Horemheb was part of the Cult of Set. He'd killed my entire family. He had to die.

“Fetch the
Book of the Dead
,” Horus said to the shabtis.

Colonel Cody immediately looked to me. “Shall we do as the cat says?”

“He's a god, not a cat,” I said.

“Yes,” Colonel Cody said. “Shall we do as the god cat says?”

“Absolutely,” I said.

“Very good, Great Master,” Colonel Cody said, and snapped his fingers.

Four shabtis climbed to the top of the bookcase and returned moments later balancing a giant wooden box covered in gold. Horus insisted we keep the
Book of the Dead
out of reach so no spells would be cast accidentally. The
Book of the Dead
was funny that way. It obeyed the will of the gods, but it also had a mind of its own.

“Open it, Tut.”

Horus didn't have to ask me twice. I ran my hands over the engravings on the top, remembering when life had been normal. I'd never thought about revenge back when I'd been pharaoh, because Horemheb had fooled me. I'd never be fooled again.

“How many spells will I have?” I asked, anticipating the power running through me.

“One,” Horus said. “It's all you'll need.”

“One! You're kidding, right?”

“Why? What were you thinking?”

“Ten.” That would be ten chances to fight Horemheb.

Horus put up his paw. “Not a chance, Tut. Ten spells could kill you.”

It was easy to forget how much energy using the
Book of the Dead
required. How much it drained me the last time I'd used it. And it wasn't just the draining. It was the way it left me feeling like I wanted more. Needed more. Like I would die if I didn't get it.