Fear took control of my limbs. Huddling against Maddie, I kept my head down as we inched our way around the masses. Fortunately, taxis lined a nearby curb.
A gunshot boomed across the square. Dropping to the concrete, I pulled Maddie with me. Screams erupted. More shots followed. My heart raced wildly and sweat condensed on my palms. Everything moved in slow motion. The thin man with the sparse beard eased a handgun from his clothing, his eyes darting about. In front of us a policeman approached a horde of flailing protestors, his firearm raised.
Gunfire clapped right beside us. Screaming, Maddie crouched and shoved her way through the crowd. Terrified, I followed but glanced back. The man with the handgun scanned the mob. His gaze caught mine and he sneered. The muscles in my neck contracted in panic. I shoved a lanky man away from the black and white door of a taxi. Pounding my fist against the window, I cursed and opened the rear door.
Maddie leapt inside, speaking to the driver in broken Arabic. Ducking in, I slammed the door. The cabbie tried to maneuver through the pandemonium, but too many demonstrators crowded around. Men beat their fists or open palms on the car, shouting. Honking, the cabbie waved the locals aside. Their banging intensified. One of the windows might burst and spray us with shards. Maddie huddled against me and covered her head.
“Floor it!” I yelled.
The driver yelled in Arabic, waving his hands and swirling smoke from his cigarette. His wild eyes flitted around the assailants.
“Ouch,” Maddie said, jerking her hand from mine. I must’ve been squishing it.
“Maybe we need to run some people over,” I said, searching for the thin man with the handgun. The surrounding mob blocked my view.
A man slammed into the window beside me, a spray of red liquid streaking across the glass. His eyes glazed over and he slid down, his hands smearing his own blood.
Maddie screamed. Covering the window with my bag, my hands trembled. Honking and banging escalated, broken by a burst of gunfire.
The cabbie stomped on the gas and the car jolted, knocking people aside. Others dove out of the way. Barreling out into the street, we careened back and forth under the squeal of tires. The scene disappeared as we swerved around a corner. I let out a long sigh and my body fell limp. Maddie’s jaw trembled, her face white.
“I wasn’t prepared for this,” she whispered, her voice breathy. “I should’ve stayed at the university. I want to go home.”
My heart ached with sympathy. But I needed to be strong, the male protector. I reached out to comfort her. I’d gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and pull her close. But my fingers shook while brushing her hair back and my index finger poked inside her ear. She shivered and pulled away. I snatched my hands back and tucked them under my thighs. You idiot.
Maddie stared at the passing buildings and congested cars, waving her hand to dispel the cigarette smoke. She coughed.
I’d convinced myself that the risk of turmoil in Egypt would be worth the secrets and treasures we’d bring back into the world, mysteries lost for thousands of years. But we’d failed.
“We’ll get Kaylin and the others and fly back to the States,” I said, my gaze falling to the floor, along with my dreams. Why did Kaylin’s dad send her and her little brother to this country? He didn’t believe we’d be returning home with priceless treasure—
The taxi squealed to a stop, flinging us forward in our seats. The Four Seasons on the bank of the Nile towered overhead. Finally. I threw money at the driver and we ran into the lobby, earning suspicious stares from guests and staff. Jumping into the elevator, we rode it to the penthouse suite. I pounded on the entryway.
A moment passed.
The door flew open, revealing a dark-skinned man in a gray suit.
“What happened?” Kaylin’s bodyguard asked in his quiet voice, his eyes beaming in shock. A large hand ran across his smooth face and then over his bald head.
“Jenkins!” Maddie said, hugging him and shoving past.
I tailed her to the living area. Kaylin lounged on an elegant sofa, the Nile’s vast expanse stretching across the window behind her. Sitting curiously close to her was our guide, Mr. Scalone. A twinge of suspicion arose in my stomach.
Kaylin jumped from the cushions, her long legs exposed. Pink lips spread into a radiant smile as she brushed straight blonde hair over her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled as they met mine and she opened her arms for a hug, but paused after seeing our grime. “I’m so glad you guys are back! Mr. Scalone shouldn’t have left you. Did you have any more trouble?”
“We had to fight our way through a protest with gunfire,” Maddie said, shaking her head. “Other than that we’re fine.”
“Except the two hired hands from Luxor followed us,” I said. “The ones who buried us inside the tomb. And one carried a gun.”
Journal Translation
STEADYING MY SHAKING HAND ON my bracelet drew the magician’s scrutiny, behind haunted, pale eyes.
“I don’t believe the plague struck one man in one room without warning,” the son of Hapu said. His eyes darkened. “There’s something else at work, something draped in shadows. Magic!” He leaned into my personal space. “I didn’t see any spells, potions, or statuettes, but I felt it when I entered your father’s room. Something was not right, the feeling profound and obscure … ancient. Did you notice any idols or drawings when you talked to your father that night? Or did you bring anything back with you? From Thebes, perhaps?”
This man made my skin crawl under the layer of rising goose flesh. Could the Bes amulet have had something to do with all this? No, it saved me. And Akhenaten broke it before I ever saw Father. “I didn’t see any hieroglyphs until after you two were in there.”
The light in the magician’s eyes faded, his pupils scrawling over blank space.
“What can I do to help him?” I asked.
“There may not be anything you can do,” the magician said. “Pray the disease doesn’t spread. And be careful of what you share with the doctor and any of the royal family, they may not be what they seem. If someone cast magic that night, it’s stronger than my own … powerful enough to conceal all remnants. I may be limited in terms of what I can accomplish …” He looked down the hall.
“I’ve seen the Dark Ones!” I said. Spinning back around, his eyes and hairless brows pulled back. “And I’ve seen Akhenaten use magic!”
The son of Hapu’s forehead tugged and wrinkled. “I must leave!” He disappeared into the hall. The guard returned without a word, but other footsteps thundered down the corridor.
Suty’s jutting ear appeared beside his scarred face, reflecting the light of the torch in his hand. “There ya are, boy. Makin’ sure ya where ya supposed to be. Not spreadin’ your cursed family’s disease.”
The monster intimidated me with his stare. But in spite of the terror engulfing me, I didn’t tremble. I wished he’d drop over dead, but I’d never be able to physically harm that ogre. Finally, he left.
Laying my head back, images of all I’d witnessed played out in my mind. Exhaustion overcame me, but distressing thoughts and emotions tore at the center my soul. All the drama and threats of the impending burning kept sleep at bay. Formulating a plan to save Father, I hoped I’d uncover the truth.
A scream pierced the silent halls. My eyes shot open. The Aten’s early rays streaked through my window, forming haunting shapes against the cracks in the ceiling.
People raced around the palace, this time in larger swarms. Frantic yelling followed. I crawled on all fours and peeked outside. Displaying overwhelming animation, a royal servant with red eye paint licked his lips and spoke to a contingent of soldiers. Shaking, his finger pointed at me. He wailed, throwing his hands into the air. “Another death!”
My throat constricted so tightly I choked, and my mouth went dry. No! Did this mean the end for Father? Who was it?
The guards came with swords drawn and surrounded my doorway. A familiar monster stepped forward.
“Stand up, boy,” Suty said, his pig’s ear twitching. “Need ta look ya over.”
I moved slowly, as if awaiting execution.
“Lift ya kilt and turn ’round,” he said and I obeyed. Cold bronze slapped against my bare buttocks, a stinging pain shooting across my skin. “Don’t see no black marks. Fetch the doctor!”
Several of the guards dispersed. Suty watched my door as throngs of people sprinted by, screaming in anguish. This couldn’t be good.
“I be right here when the doctor come,” he said. “If he recommends burnin’, I be happy to light that flame.”
Swallowing, my insides turned cold. “What happened?”
“You spreadin’ disease,” he said, gnashing his teeth.
“Who died?” I asked, clenching my fists with anxiety.
“You don’t need to know, you just a servant.” Sneering, the ogre kicked out in a threat to silence me.
The rank smell of sweat preceded the watermelon-headed doctor. “Our worst fears have come true,” Pentju said, the writing palette shaking in his hand.
Standing, I bit my lip to hold back a cry of fear. I didn’t like the good doctor, but the magician seemed … creepy. But who died to warrant this kind of reaction?
Turning me around, Pentju slapped my dangling sidelock away from my shoulders. “No lesions. You must be a carrier.”
My toes curled with dread. Is that why my stomach ached? “What happened?”
His voice shook. “Th-the prince is dead—”
“Akhenaten?” The blood drained from my face and my chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. Exhilaration arose and spread through my limbs.
“No, Thutmose, the crown prince,” he said, his fat cheeks wobbling.
Thutmose! My knees buckled in shock, almost sending me crashing to the floor. The man looked impervious to mortal afflictions. How? He had just visited me. Perhaps I should keep that to myself. “Did he have marks like my father?”
“Yes, a contagious disease is spreading. We must move swiftly in order to prevent more victims. Pray the Aten is not punishing us.” The doctor waddled to the door. “Your father will be burned, and if you show signs, you’ll be seared alive for bringing this filth.”
I collapsed, begging. “No! Please don’t take revenge on my father!”
Pentju departed.
Shrieking and weeping carried throughout the palace all day. I couldn’t linger in my room another night. This curse was my fault! My life hung in jeopardy, but I didn’t have much left to live for. The way things were now, I’d never have a future with Nefertiti or an afterlife with Father. Was his soul already lost for eternity, or did they fear going near his body? I prayed Pharaoh still wanted him in the next life and his ba flew free. Perhaps I could steal his body and bury it somewhere in the desert.
I peeked out the doorway. A man in a padded cap stood with his back to me. The spear and hide shield in his hands drooped. My forearms tensed in preparation. He was dozing off, and this was my chance. Grabbing the idol of the sun-disc and scarab, I whispered, “Give me strength, grace, and invisibility, and I’ll ever be your faithful servant.”
Wadding up the reeds of my bed, I shaped them into a pile and covered it with the blanket. I placed a sand-filled excrement pot next to the window and stood on it. I’d have to accomplish this feat without a commotion. Closing my eyes, I sucked in a deep breath.
Repeating my window technique, the maneuver came easier and my leg didn’t hurt as much. I rolled on the descent, softening the dirt landing. Lying still, I listened. Silence. No guards stood in the immediate area. Thankfully, with Amenhotep’s peaceful and prosperous reign, other than the recent plague scare, no one was ever on edge.
Jumping back up, I peered through my window. No commotion arose from within and no torchlight moved into my room. This time I wouldn’t be caught out in the open.
I scouted everywhere, as if prey on the vast desert and the sphinx itself tracked me. My heart pounded. Approaching the edge of torchlight, I stepped away from the white walls and inched around the side of a wing. A guard stood staring vacantly into the distance. This was unfortunate. My white kilt, camouflage against the palace’s façade, stood out against the night like an albino crocodile. Scraping up handfuls of dirt, I rubbed the grit into my clothing to stain the fabric brown.
After venturing toward the perimeter wall, I crept back on the soldier’s far side. Another watchman patrolled between the palace and the Aten temple. His route paced in and out of the rings of light. But I could run through the visible area before he came back around.
Sprinting through the night, my attention focused on where the watchman should reappear—hopefully not for another minute. Torchlight fell upon me, my legs still spinning. Then darkness descended again. I only slowed my pace after entering the temple. Anticipatory scenes of Father formed in my head, terrifying me. But the stone slab was bare, his body gone. No sign of being scorched by flame. Empty.
I glanced around, dumbfounded. Where did they take him? I wanted to scream, but was too afraid. What do I do now?
I stumbled back through the fragrant gardens, their vibrancy veiled by darkness. Kicking the dirt in frustration, I cursed under my breath.
A black form darted under a rim of light, moving in my direction. Collapsing, I sunk my thin frame into the sand. Scooping dirt onto my legs and body, I turned my head sideways so it sat flush with the ground. I held my breath, unable to see. I had no idea if this person was still advancing. My pounding heartbeat radiated into my ears.
The air turned warm. My muscles contracted, poised to run. What if Akhenaten had gone to my room and found I wasn’t there? He wouldn’t mind rustling the piled reeds to make sure I actually slept underneath my blanket. Would he burn me alive this time? Perhaps I should run away, flee to another city … no, I’d be abandoning Father, Croc, and Nefertiti. I could still save her and make her fall in love with me, create the life I always dreamt of.
Footsteps crunched closer. No one could know I was hiding out here, not in this exact spot—not unless God showed them or they wielded magic. My body ached with tension.
The footsteps receded. After waiting a moment, I lifted my head. The whites of my eyes must’ve stood out in stark contrast to the night and the dirt covering me. The silhouette of a cloaked figure emerged, outlined by distant torchlight. This hunched figure strode to the perimeter wall of the palace’s grounds. Jumping and grabbing the lip of the outer wall, the figure hoisted himself up with ease. Then he climbed down over the other side, disappearing into the surrounding city.
I released a long-overdue breath. Who was this, and why were they going out at night? I’d have to be quick if I wanted to find out. Dashing over, I jumped to catch the edge of the wall.
“Hey! What’re you doing?” someone shouted.
Journal Translation
I DROPPED AND SPRINTED TO my left, running for my life.
“Wait!” a high-pitched voice said.
Stopping, I glanced back. A small frame with tousled hair stood outlined by torches. The dance of distant flames landed on my face, but shadows concealed hers. She was wearing plain white cloth. Mutnedjmet or possibly Nefertiti disguising themselves as a commoner? No grown soldier stood before me. As I inched closer, fragments of her facial features stood out, soft and cute. Nefertiti’s sister stood in front of me, or some kind of magic betrayed my eyes. I almost smiled despite my suffocating thoughts, but her eyes appeared swollen and red, as if she’d been weeping.
Holding a hand up toward me as if to ward off contamination, she said, “What’re you doing out here?”
“I-I …” Would she blame me and Father for Thutmose’s death?
“I won’t tell,” she said. “But did you see someone else? Strange things have been happening, starting with your father and then my cousin …” She choked back tears. “I was out in the gardens, where I go when I need to be alone. The place that reminds me of Thutmose. A man draped in black ran by and climbed this wall rather t
han going through the gates. Then you popped out of the desert like some sort of sand monster. You’re not some kind of magician, are you?”
I laughed. “Just a servant. But I was trying to follow the figure you saw.”
“Are you infectious?” she asked, stiffening her raised arm.
“I don’t think so. I haven’t developed any marks.”
Her defensive palm relaxed and she brushed her hair back behind her ears.
“How’d you get out?” I asked.
“I’ve been doing it for years,” she said. “It’s not difficult for Ay’s daughter to slip or talk her way past a couple of tired guards. My family’s so busy trying to comfort Pharaoh and Tiye that no one even notices me. But how did you get out here?”
I remained silent, guarded.
“You better hurry, if you want to follow him.” White teeth flashed against her shadowed face, forming the inside of a grin. “Because you’re going to have to help me over that wall.”
Shaking my head in annoyance, I said, “It’s not safe for a royal daughter to run around the city at night, especially with me.”
“I don’t think it’s safe for someone exposed to the plague and quarantined to his room to be running anywhere.” She folded her arms across her chest.
I clenched my jaw with growing frustration, not sure what to do. “Okay, but we move quickly and quietly.”
She motioned with an open palm to lead the way.
The palace’s perimeter wall was diminutive in comparison to the mighty walls surrounding Memphis itself, but no less white. Slipping on the plaster, I made another attempt to grip the edge. Mutnedjmet giggled but kneeled on one leg, leaving her other thigh for me to stand on. Easing my foot onto her skin, her eyes became captivated by my hideous scar. I stretched, scrambled with my legs, and pulled, heaving for breath as I finally reached the top.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 16