3-in-1: Zet and the Egyptian Mystery Cases

by Scott Peters

  Clammy terror made his insides turn to liquid. A king cobra.

  The cobra's hood opened, wide and muscled. Its colored patterns dazzled him. With a hiss, the serpent's tongue flicked out. Gaze fixed on Zet's gaping face, it reared back, revealing dagger-like fangs.

  Death had come.

  In a flash, the cobra shot forward.

  Zet rolled onto one shoulder and tumbled away. As he scrambled to get clear, he flinched, waiting for the bite.

  He heard the snake come at him through the dirt and he twisted in horror.

  Then the priest was there, his hand snapping forward to catch the snake from behind. The man's sinewy fingers closed just below the cobra's head. He pulled it to his chest as if it were a pet. Meanwhile the snake hissed and spat, eyes glued to Zet.

  "We have work to do," the priest told it. He turned and entered the pyramid, leaving Zet gasping in the dust.

  "That was close," called one of the medjay.

  Zet's heart was practically banging out of his chest. "He had me carry that box from the harbor! The lid wasn't even fastened."

  "Ha! I wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

  The second medjay laughed. "If we hear shouts from inside, we'll know someone has."

  "Let's just hope he doesn't kill the missing priestess by mistake," said the first.

  "He'd better not," Zet said in a harsh voice. Would the cobra know the difference between friend and foe? What if it killed the Princess in her father's own burial tomb? But the priest wouldn't be so careless. Would he?

  Then again, the priest had called her disappearance a stain on this holy ground.

  Zet thought back to a time in Thebes when he'd had a run in with the High Priest of Amenemopet. Not every man was who he seemed. Not everyone could be trusted. He hoped for the Princess's sake that this man was on her side.

  He stood for a long time with the two medjay, but no sounds came from inside.

  "Don't you have work to do, messenger boy?" a medjay asked.

  With no excuse, he had to agree. He bid them goodbye and set off for the temple construction site. As he drew near, the sounds of ringing hammers against stone filled the air. The maze of half built walls looked daunting. Everywhere, men chanted in rhythm as they worked. Some were dragging a heavy stone into place. Farther off, a tall young man led a pair of donkeys weighted down with sacks of supplies. In a wide-open area, dozens of men were bending and scooping a muddy, wet substance into molds. Brick-makers, Zet realized.

  He paused on the path and pulled out the architect's scroll. Time to find the partially built chapel.

  Zet studied the complex drawing. He wished Hui were here to help make sense of it! The thought of his best friend sent fresh worry coursing through him. Zet had to figure out who'd stolen those jewels.

  A thought struck. Was it possible the kidnapping and the jewel theft were connected?

  He pondered this for some time. If there was an enemy spy in the camp like Senna suggested, that spy knew the Princess. He'd be close enough to steal her jewels. And if Zet found him, he'd save Hui and Princess Meritamon in one blow.

  No more time to wait. He had to find that chapel. Studying the scroll, he tried to puzzle out the diagram. The lines had to be walls. And the breaks? Maybe they were doors? But what about the circles, and those small squares?

  Finally, he just started walking.

  Senna said the chapel was on the outer edge. Zet walked the worksite's perimeter. Glancing through the labyrinth of walls, he saw pillars and pylons reaching skyward. Heavy foliage forced him to turn into the site. He came across a wall painted end-to-end with a giant war scene. The mural showed Pharaoh leading his men against the Hyksos invaders. There were thousands of soldiers.

  One had to be Zet's own father. Even though the faces were small and only representations of the fighting men, Zet reached out and ran his fingers over them.

  "Come home safe," he whispered.

  Footsteps sounded nearby. He glimpsed a medjay and started walking, quickly. He didn't want to rouse any suspicions, especially if Merimose was on site. Merimose would demand to know what he was doing. Friend or not the Commander would put a stop to Zet's investigation if he caught him disobeying his direct orders to do so.

  He spotted a doorway barred off by a length of dusty fabric. The fabric was marked with the medjay's official symbol.

  This was it. The site where the kidnapping had taken place.

  Zet gulped and glanced around. Now or never. He raised the linen strip and ducked under.

  The chapel was long and narrow. There was no roof yet, so the dirt floor was a mix of shadow and hot sunshine. Someday, this would all be decorated with spells and elaborate carvings. Even without them, it felt strange to be inside. Not just because the Princess had been kidnapped here. A mystical power seemed to grip the room with breathless silence.

  Carefully, he combed the space for clues, all the while glancing back at the door.

  Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see. A few dusty footprints, but that was all.

  He should have figured as much.

  Zet rubbed his head and blew out a frustrated breath.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Secret Wadi

  Zet peered into the undergrowth that led away from the chapel.

  The medjay must have searched for tracks. Still, it wouldn't hurt to take another quick look. He couldn't think what else to do, and time was running out.

  Low scratchy bushes raked his shins. He zigzagged through them, searching for footprints or donkey hoofmarks.

  Nothing.

  He crouched in the shade of some waving bulrushes and pulled out the temple plans.

  Should he keep going?

  Senna had shown him where the chapel lay. Now Zet began to understand the drawing better. He rotated it until the chapel on the page matched the chapel in the distance. Senna had only sketched a bit of the grassy area where Zet sat now.

  He tried to think like the kidnappers. Which way would they go?

  There were several choices. Hide here until dark, and then circle the temple perimeter, enter the mountains and hole up in a cave. It would be nearly impossible to find them.

  But if they hadn't? If they'd gone straight away from the worksite, where would that take them? Zet decided to keep walking. Maybe he'd be lucky. Maybe he'd find a clue the medjay overlooked.

  Standing, he glanced both ways. If someone spotted him—medjay or kidnappers—he'd be in trouble. A runner had no business combing the area for clues. As far as he could tell, no one was watching.

  Stuffing the scroll in his waistband, he set off.

  The scruffy bushes grew thicker the further he walked. Soon the undergrowth grew so thick that he had to stop and choose a new route. Backing up, he found a clearer way and kept going.

  He was ready to give up when he noticed something. A bush crushed on one side. His heart began to race. He ran forward and discovered that the ground ahead sloped into a wadi, a marshy gorge.

  He clambered down and slipped on fresh mud. When he landed on his butt, he nearly whooped at what he saw.

  Hoofmarks.

  There were hoofmarks! Fresh ones. A donkey had come through here. A number of them, by the look of it. Was this the way they'd come?

  The wadi grew wider and deeper. The bluffs rose higher than a man's head. Anyone could be up there and he wouldn't see them until it was too late. A wind whooshed over him, rattling dry bushes that clung to the slopes.

  He began to run.

  Feeling alone and exposed, he forced himself to keep going. How he wished Hui were with him. Glancing this way and that, he wound downward.

  A forest of gnarled brush blocked the gulch's far end. Carefully, he approached. Holding his breath, he pried the brush apart. He had no idea what he expected to see. A hut perhaps, surrounded by guards. A cave with a guarded entryway. But he saw none of those things.

  He stared in disbelief.

  It was the canal.

 
The wadi had led him to the canal that ran between the Nile and Abydos harbor.

  Disappointment flooded through him. All hope gone, Zet shoved his way through the bushes and out onto the red, sandy bank. He ran a hand over his head. He'd been so certain he was on the right track. This was nothing but a dead end.

  His shoulders sagged. Finally, he turned and plodded back the way he'd come.

  The hike seemed harder now. It seemed to take forever.

  By the time he reached the worksite, his stomach was making fierce complaints. Judging by the sun's angle, noon and lunch had long since passed. Feeling hollow, he pushed through the last of the undergrowth.

  As he emerged in front of the chapel, a man shouted at him.

  "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

  Zet stood frozen, startled by the man's angry tone.

  Two huge workers thrust their way toward him. The men were bare to the waist. Stone dust colored their skin, blending with their sweat. One wore leather wrist-guards that came halfway to his elbows. They made his bulging forearms look impossibly huge. The other had a soft belly, as if he'd only been doing construction for a short time. His arms were lean and patchy with fresh sunburns.

  Wrist-guards grabbed Zet by one arm and dragged him toward the chapel.

  "What's going on?" Zet said, glancing around for help. Now, when he actually wanted to see a medjay, none were in sight. His heart drummed in panic.

  "Shut up." Wrist guards thrust Zet under the linen that blocked the chapel door.

  Zet sprawled in the dirt. He flipped over and leaped up as the two men followed him inside.

  "What were you doing out there?" asked the sunburnt man. His voice was strangely familiar.

  "I work for the architect," Zet said, stumbling back.

  They kept coming at him until he was pressed against the wall.

  "Out in the bushes?" demanded Wrist-guards.

  The sunburnt man laughed. "What kind of work do you do in the bushes?"

  "None! I came to check on the chapel," Zet said quickly. "He asked me to look for damage, and, well, I drank a lot of tea this morning. When I got here, I had to go. You know, nature calls." He swallowed and tried to look defiant. "Is there a crime against it?"

  The sunburnt man eyed him closely. "The architect's a dangerous man to work for."

  "Oh yeah?" Zet said. "Why's that?"

  "Look what happened to his last runner-boy who came snooping."

  Zet shrugged, even though he felt sick with fear. "I got his job, that's all I care about."

  "Is that so?"

  "Why, what happened to him?" Zet asked.

  The sunburnt man leaned down, right into Zet's face. His breath stank. "A horrible curse."

  A warning told Zet to keep silent. Instead, he wrinkled his nose and said, "Did this curse have your name on it?"

  The sunburnt man went still as death.

  Big mistake, Zet decided. The Queen Mother's seal ring suddenly felt heavy against his chest. Merimose's warning came to him. He stared into the sunburnt man's eyes, wondering if he was staring into the face of Princess Merit's kidnapper. If they found it he was dead.

  He needed to backtrack, fast.

  Clenching his fists, he dropped his gaze to the ground. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's just, I'm new here, and I've been getting flack all day from my master."

  He could feel their eyes drilling into the top of his skull.

  "Hey! What's all this?" came a man's voice from the door.

  All three turned. A man stood there, hands on his hips. He wore a medallion on one shoulder, and looked official. "What are you men doing? Get back to work."

  The sunburnt man took a step back from Zet. Muscles worked in his jaw. "Watch yourself, boy," he said quietly

  The two men left. Zet followed. At the door, the official stopped him.

  "This area is off limits. Why are you here?"

  "The architect sent me," Zet said.

  "I'm the Overseer—if he wants to send his servants poking around, he'd better talk to me first. Got it? Or maybe you want to talk to the medjay."

  "No! No—I'm going."

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Prisoner

  Back outside, Zet's heart was still racing. What was that about? He looked both ways. The two men were gone.

  Was it possible they were Princess Merit's kidnappers? What other explanation could there be? And why were they so worried about him snooping in the bushes? He'd found nothing there except a dead end. If they'd taken the Princess that way, they'd put her in a boat and sailed off where no one could follow. Everyone knew it was impossible to track a boat, so why would the two men be worried that he'd been out in the brush?

  Even more puzzling, why did the sunburnt man's voice seem so familiar? Where had Zet heard it before?

  Part of him wanted to report his attackers to Merimose. But if Merimose questioned the men, they could deny it. They could say they caught Zet snooping. Merimose would be furious. Worse.

  He could send Zet home.

  The chilling realization shook him to his core.

  Stumped, he headed back toward the harbor. It was time he checked in with Senna.

  Small birds wheeled in the cloudless sky. Zet reached the road. He felt eyes on his back and turned. At the temple, hundreds of men still labored under the waning sun. He squinted, but saw no sign of his attackers. The sunburnt man's warning flashed through his mind—that the last runner had suffered a 'curse'.

  Zet gulped, picturing a deadly visit from them to his tent in the middle of the night.

  Hopefully, they believed what he told them—that he was just a clueless messenger.

  His mind roamed to Hui, and his spirits sank even further. Nearly a whole day had passed, and what had Zet learned? Nothing. Fear for his best friend gnawed at him.

  He felt dizzy, and realized it was more than fear. He'd eaten nothing since his meager breakfast, and the day was nearly over.

  Deciding to risk the cook's anger, he angled off the road so he could come up behind the mess tent. Maybe he could beg a few scraps before dinner.

  The smell of animal dung drifted on the soft breeze. He looked right and saw donkeys clustered in an open-air pen. Next to the donkeys lay a long, low, mud-brick building. A barn. Zet thought of the wadi and the donkey prints.

  This was worth investigating.

  As he neared the mud-brick building, a man stepped out. The man shielded his eyes from the slanting sun and watched Zet approach. His gnarled hands were calloused and stained with dirt. Straw dusted his tunic. He held a grooming brush. The stable master.

  The man eyed Zet's uniform. "You're the other runner."

  "The architect's runner? Yes."

  "I suppose you've come to talk to the prisoner?"

  Zet tried to hide his surprise. He glanced at the building. This is where they were holding Hui? "Yes," he said quickly. "Er, the architect wanted me to ask him something."

  The man nodded. "Go in. Stall at the end. But don't be long."

  Zet could hardly believe his luck! Until that moment, he didn't realize how completely alone he'd felt. Hui was here. They'd think of a plan out of this mess together.

  It was dark inside. He squinted and made out a narrow pathway with animal stalls on either side. No doubt at night the stable master herded the donkeys in here to protect them from prowling lions and hyenas. The sound of soft breathing came from his right. He approached a stall door made of sturdy bamboo rods, and peered through.

  Expecting to see Hui, he jolted in shock.

  The figure curled on the ground, eyes closed, was a woman! Around his mother's age. The sight made him uncomfortable. Why was she locked up in here? He wrapped his fingers around the bars, working up the courage to wake her. He had to know.

  Someone was coming. Zet wrenched himself away.

  A tall man clad in pristine white robes appeared out of the gloom. He smelled of incense and temple oils. The priest.

  "Hello," Zet said.
r />   "Good evening." The priest kept walking, and soon disappeared.

  How strange!

  When Zet finally found Hui's stall, his best friend leaped up with a shout of joy.

  "Tell me you've come to let me out."

  "I wish," Zet said.

  Hui's shoulders sagged. He pressed his forehead to the bamboo rods in despair.

  "But I'm going to get you out," Zet said. "I swear it." They stood a moment in shared fright. "Are those your tools? And that lock you were carving? They let you bring those in here?"

  Hui nodded. "Yes, the priest ordered them to."

  "That priest? He almost killed me. What does he want from you?"

  "Never mind that. What's important is that I'm going to break out." He pointed to the wall behind him. "I've been digging out the mortar between the bricks. It's slow work, but if you went around back of this place, you could help from the other side!"

  "And then what, run for the rest of your life? It's like saying you're guilty."

  "Either way, I'm dead."

  "I told you I'm going to get you out."

  "How?"

  "Listen, the thief had to be a Hyksos spy. All I have to do is find him and unmask him for who he is."

  Hui went silent. Finally, he said, "Do you have any leads?"

  "Maybe." Zet told him about the hoofmarks in the wadi. And the attack in the chapel.

  "Sounds like they're protecting something. But what?" Hui said.

  "I don't know."

  "Remind me what Senna said about that day. What time did she disappear?"

  "I'm not sure. But I just thought of something. Remember that accident the girl went off to investigate? You know, when she left the chapel and came back to find it empty? Well, this morning Senna was in a horrible mood because of some obelisk that fell over at the worksite. That must have been the accident. I wonder if it's important to the mystery?"

  Hui's eyes lit up. "It might be. I heard people talking about it at breakfast!"

  "What did they say?"