by R. L. Stine
Sari and I moved up beside the workers.
The gold lion appeared to glow brighter as Uncle Ben raised the tool. A hush fell over the tunnel. I could feel the excitement, feel the tension in the air.
Such suspense!
I realized I had been holding my breath. I let it out in a long, silent whoosh and took another.
I glanced at Sari. She was nervously chewing her lower lip. Her hands were pressed tightly at her sides.
“Anyone hungry? Maybe we should forget about this and send out for a pizza!” Uncle Ben joked.
We all laughed loudly.
That was Uncle Ben for you — cracking a dumb joke at what might be the most exciting moment of his life.
The tense silence returned. Uncle Ben’s expression turned serious. He turned back to the ancient seal. He raised the small chisel to the back of the seal. Then he started to lift the hammer.
And a booming voice rang out, “PLEASE — LET ME REST IN PEACE!”
12
I let out a startled cry.
“LET ME REST IN PEACE!” the booming voice repeated.
I saw Uncle Ben lower his chisel. He spun around, his eyes wide with surprise.
I realized the voice came from behind us. I turned to see a man I had never seen before, half hidden in the shadowy tunnel. He made his way toward us, taking long, steady strides.
He was a tall, lanky man, so tall he really had to hunch his shoulders in the low tunnel. Bald except for a fringe of dark hair at the ears, he had a slender face, an unfriendly scowl on his thin lips.
He wore a perfectly ironed safari jacket over a shirt and necktie. His black eyes, like little raisins, glared at my uncle. I wondered if the man ever ate. He was as skinny as a mummy himself!
“Omar!” Uncle Ben started. “I wasn’t expecting you back from Cairo.”
“Let me rest in peace,” Dr. Fielding repeated, softer this time. “Those are the words of Prince Khor-Ru. Written on the ancient stone we found last month. That was the prince’s wish.”
“Omar, we’ve been over this before,” my uncle replied, sighing. He lowered the hammer and chisel to his sides.
Dr. Fielding pushed past Sari and me as if we weren’t there. He stopped in front of my uncle and swept a hand back over his bald head. “Well, then, how can you dare to break the seal?” Dr. Fielding demanded.
“I am a scientist,” my uncle replied slowly, speaking each word clearly and distinctly. “I cannot allow superstition to stand in the way of discovery, Omar.”
“I am also a scientist,” Dr. Fielding replied, using both hands to tighten his necktie. “But I am not willing to defile this ancient tomb. I am not willing to go against the wishes of Prince Khor-Ru. And I am not willing to call the words of the hieroglyph mere superstition.”
“This is where we disagree,” Uncle Ben said softly. He motioned to the four workers. “We have spent too many months, too many years, to stop just outside the door. We have come this far, Omar. We must go the rest of the way.”
Dr. Fielding chewed his lower lip. He pointed to the top of the door. “Look, Ben. There are the same hieroglyphs as on the stone. The same warning. Let me rest in peace.”
“I know, I know,” my uncle said, frowning.
“The warning is very clear,” Dr. Fielding continued heatedly, his tiny raisin eyes narrowed at my uncle. “If anyone should disturb the prince, if anyone should repeat the ancient words written on the tomb five times — the mummified prince shall come to life. And he shall seek his vengeance on those who disturbed him.”
Listening to those words made me shudder. I stared hard at Uncle Ben. Why hadn’t he ever told Sari and me about the prince’s threat? Why hadn’t he ever mentioned the words of warning they had found on an ancient stone?
Was he afraid he might frighten us?
Was he frightened himself?
No. No way.
He didn’t seem at all frightened now as he argued with Dr. Fielding. I could tell they had had this argument before. And I could see there was no way that Dr. Fielding was going to stop my uncle from breaking the seal and entering the tomb.
“This is my final warning, Ben —” Dr. Fielding said. “For the sake of everyone here …” He motioned with one hand to the four workers.
“Superstition,” Uncle Ben replied. “I cannot be stopped by superstition. I am a scientist.” He raised the chisel and hammer. “The seal will be broken.”
Dr. Fielding tossed up both hands in disgust. “I will not be a party to this,” he declared. He spun around, nearly hitting his head on the tunnel ceiling. Then, muttering to himself, he hurried away, disappearing quickly into the darkness of the tunnel.
Uncle Ben took a couple of steps after him. “Omar? Omar?”
But we could hear Dr. Fielding’s footsteps growing fainter as he made his way out of the pyramid.
Uncle Ben sighed and leaned close to me. “I don’t trust that man,” he muttered. “He doesn’t really care about the old superstitions. He wants to steal this discovery for himself. That’s why he tried to make me stop outside the door.”
I didn’t know how to reply. My uncle’s words startled me. I thought scientists had rules about who took credit for what discoveries.
Uncle Ben whispered something to Nila. Then he made his way back to the four workers. “If any of you agree with Dr. Fielding,” he told them, “you are free to leave now.”
The workers exchanged glances with one another.
“You have all heard the words of warning on the tomb door. I do not want to force anyone to enter the tomb,” Uncle Ben told them.
“But we have worked so hard,” one of the men said. “We cannot stop here. We have no choice. We have to open that door.”
A smile crossed my uncle’s face. “I agree,” he said, turning back to the lion seal.
I glanced at Sari and realized that she was already staring at me. “Gabe, if you’re scared, Daddy will let you leave,” she whispered. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
She never quits!
“I’m staying,” I whispered back. “But if you want me to walk you back to the tent, I will.”
A loud clink made us both turn back to the door. Uncle Ben was working to pry off the gold lion seal. Nila had her camera poised. The workers stood tensely, watching Uncle Ben’s every move.
Uncle Ben worked slowly, carefully. He slid the chisel behind the ancient seal and gently pried and scraped.
A few minutes later, the seal fell into my uncle’s hands. Nila busily snapped photograph after photograph. Uncle Ben carefully passed it to one of the workers. “That’s not a Christmas gift,” he joked. “I’m keeping that for my mantelpiece!”
Everyone laughed.
Uncle Ben gripped the edge of the door with both hands. “I’m going in first,” he announced. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, go tell Dr. Fielding he was right!”
More laughter.
Two of the workers moved to help Uncle Ben slide open the door. They pressed their shoulders against it, straining hard.
The door didn’t budge.
“It might need a little oiling,” Uncle Ben joked. “After all, it’s been closed for three thousand years.”
They worked for several minutes with picks and chisels, carefully freeing the door. Then they tried once again, pressing their shoulders against the heavy mahogany door.
“Yes!” Uncle Ben cried out as the door slid an inch.
Then another inch. Another inch.
Everyone pressed forward, eager to get a view of the ancient tomb.
Two of the workers moved the large spotlights, aiming them into the doorway.
As Uncle Ben and his two helpers pushed against the door, Sari and I stepped up beside Nila. “Isn’t this amazing!” Nila cried excitedly. “I can’t believe I’m the only reporter here! I’m so lucky!”
I’m lucky, too, I realized. How many kids would give anything to be standing right where I am? How many kids would love to be one of the
first people in the world to step into a three-thousand-year-old tomb in an Egyptian pyramid?
The faces of some of my friends back home suddenly popped into my mind. I realized I couldn’t wait to tell them about my adventure here!
The door scraped noisily against the dirt floor. Another inch. Another inch.
The opening was almost big enough for a person to squeeze through.
“Move the light a little,” Uncle Ben instructed. “Another few inches, and we can go in and shake hands with the prince.”
The door scraped open another inch. With a great heave, Uncle Ben and his helpers forced it open another few inches.
“Yes!” he cried happily.
Nila snapped a photograph.
We all pressed forward eagerly.
Uncle Ben slid through the opening first.
Sari bumped me out of the way and cut in front of me.
My heart was pounding hard. My hands were suddenly ice-cold.
I didn’t care who went in first. I just wanted to go in!
One by one, we slipped into the ancient chamber.
Finally, my turn came. I took a deep breath, slipped through the opening, and saw —
— nothing.
Except for a lot of cobwebs, the chamber was bare.
Totally bare.
13
I let out a long sigh. Poor Uncle Ben. All that work for nothing. I felt so disappointed.
I glanced around the bare chamber. The spotlights made the thick cobwebs glow like silver. Our shadows stretched across the dirt floor like ghosts.
I turned to Uncle Ben, expecting him to be disappointed, too. But to my surprise, he had a smile on his face. “Move the lights,” he told one of the workers. “And bring the tools. We have another seal to remove.”
He pointed across the empty room to the back wall. In the gray light, I could make out the outline of a door. Another sculpted lion sealed it shut.
“I knew this wasn’t the real burial chamber!” Sari cried, grinning at me.
“As I said, the Egyptians often did this,” Uncle Ben explained. “They built several false chambers to hide the real chamber from grave robbers.” He pulled off his hard hat and scratched his hair. “In fact,” he continued, “we may find several empty chambers before we find Prince Khor-Ru’s resting place.”
Nila snapped a photo of Uncle Ben examining the newly discovered door. She smiled at me. “You should have seen the expression on your face, Gabe,” she said. “You looked so disappointed.”
“I thought —” I started. But the scrape of Uncle Ben’s chisel against the seal made me stop.
We all turned to watch him work at the seal. Staring across the cobweb-filled chamber, I tried to imagine what waited for us on the other side of the door.
Another empty chamber? Or a three-thousand-year-old Egyptian prince, surrounded by all of his treasures and belongings?
Work on the door went slowly. We all broke for lunch and then returned. That afternoon Uncle Ben and his helpers worked for another couple of hours, carefully trying to remove the seal without damaging it.
As they worked, Sari and I sat on the floor and watched. The air was hot and kind of sour. I guess it was ancient air. Sari and I talked about last year and the adventures we’d had in the Great Pyramid. Nila snapped our picture.
“Almost got it,” Uncle Ben announced.
We all started to get excited again. Sari and I climbed to our feet and crossed the room to get a better view.
The lion seal slid free from the door. Two of the workers placed it gently into a padded crate. Then Uncle Ben and the other two workers set to work pushing open the door.
This door proved even more difficult than the last. “It’s … really … stuck,” Uncle Ben groaned. He and the workers pulled out more tools and began prying and chipping away the hard crust that had formed on the doorway over the centuries.
An hour later, they got the door to slide an inch. Then another inch. Another.
When it had slid halfway open, Uncle Ben removed the light from his helmet and beamed it through the opening. He peered into the next chamber for the longest time without saying a word.
Sari and I moved closer. My heart began racing again.
What did he see? I wondered. What was he staring at so silently?
Finally, Uncle Ben lowered the light and turned back to us. “We’ve made a big mistake,” he said quietly.
14
A shocked silence fell over the room. I swallowed hard, stunned by my uncle’s words.
But then a broad smile crossed his face. “We made a mistake by underestimating our discovery!” he exclaimed. “This will be more important than the discovery of King Tut! This tomb is even grander!”
A gleeful cheer echoed against the stone walls. The workers rushed forward to shake Uncle Ben’s hand and offer their congratulations.
“Congratulations to us all!” Uncle Ben declared happily.
We were all laughing and talking excitedly as we slipped through the narrow opening, into the next chamber.
As the lights beamed over the vast room, I knew I was seeing something I would never forget. Even the thick layer of dust and cobwebs could not cover the amazing treasures that filled the chamber.
My eyes darted quickly around. I struggled to focus on it all. But there was too much to see! I actually felt dizzy.
The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with hieroglyphs, etched into the stone. The floor was cluttered with furniture and other objects. It looked more like someone’s attic or a storeroom than a tomb!
A tall, straight-backed throne caught my eye. It had a golden radiating sun etched into the seat back. Behind it, I saw chairs and benches and a long couch.
Against the wall were stacked dozens of stone and clay jars. Some were cracked and broken. But many were in perfect condition.
A gold monkey head lay on its side in the middle of the floor. Behind it, I saw several large chests.
Uncle Ben and one of the workers carefully pulled back the lid of one of the chests. Their eyes grew wide as they gaped inside.
“Jewelry!” Uncle Ben declared. “It’s filled with gold jewelry!”
Sari came up beside me, an excited grin on her face.
“This is awesome!” I whispered.
She nodded agreement. “Awesome!”
We whispered in the heavy silence. No one else talked. Everyone was too overwhelmed by the amazing sight. The loudest sound was the clicking of Nila’s camera.
Uncle Ben stepped between Sari and me and placed a hand on our shoulders. “Isn’t this unbelievable?” he cried. “It’s all in perfect condition. Untouched for three thousand years.”
When I glanced up at him, I saw that he had tears in his eyes. This is the greatest moment of Uncle Ben’s life, I realized.
“We must be very careful —” Uncle Ben started. But he stopped in midsentence, and I saw his expression change.
As he guided Sari and me across the room, I saw what he was staring at. A large stone mummy case, hidden in shadow, stood against the far wall.
“Oh, wow!” I murmured as we stepped up to it.
Made of smooth gray stone, the heavy lid had a long crack down the center.
“Is the prince buried inside it?” Sari asked eagerly.
It took Uncle Ben a moment to reply. He stood between us, his eyes locked on the ancient mummy case. “We’ll soon see,” he finally replied.
As he and the four workers struggled to move the lid, Nila lowered her camera and stepped forward to watch. Her green eyes stared intensely as the lid slowly slid away.
Inside was a coffin the shape of the mummy. It wasn’t very long. And it was narrower than I thought it would be.
The workers slowly pried open the coffin’s lid. I gasped and grabbed Uncle Ben’s hand as the mummy was revealed.
It looked so tiny and frail!
“Prince Khor-Ru,” Uncle Ben muttered, staring down into the stone case.
The prin
ce lay on his back, his slender arms crossed over his chest. Black tar had seeped through the bandages. The gauze had worn away from the head, revealing the tar-covered skull.
As I leaned over the case, my heart in my throat, the tar-blackened eyes seemed to stare helplessly up at me.
There’s a real person inside there, I thought, feeling a chill run down my spine. He’s about my size. And he died. And they covered him with hot tar and cloth. And he’s been lying in this case for three thousand years.
A real person. A royal prince.
I stared at the cracked tar that covered his face. At the gauzelike cloth, all frayed and yellowed. At the stiff body, so frail and small.
He was alive once, I thought. Did he ever dream that three thousand years later, people would open his coffin and stare at him? Stare at his mummified body?
I took a step back to catch my breath. It was too exciting.
I saw that Nila also had tears in her eyes. She rested both hands on the edge of the case and leaned over the prince’s body, her eyes locked on the blackened face.
“These may be the best-preserved remains ever found,” Uncle Ben said quietly. “Of course, we will have to do many tests to determine the young man’s identity. But, judging from everything else in this chamber, I think it’s safe to say …”
His voice trailed off as we all heard sounds from the outer chamber. Footsteps. Voices.
I spun around toward the doorway as four black-uniformed police officers burst into the room. “Okay. Everybody take one step back,” one of them ordered, lowering his hand to the gun holster at his side.
15
Startled cries filled the room. Uncle Ben spun around, his eyes wide with surprise. “What is happening?” he cried.
The four Cairo police officers, their features set in hard frowns, moved quickly into the center of the room.
“Be careful!” Uncle Ben warned, standing in front of the mummy case as if protecting it. “Do not move anything. It is all terribly fragile.”
He pulled off the hard hat. His eyes went from officer to officer. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked them to come,” a voice boomed from the doorway.