Together they put their backs to the stone door. With their combined strength, multiplied by their adrenaline-fuelled fear, the huge slab began to shift.
Looking out through the open door, Charley got a first sense of their location. From the rows of stone crosses and headstones outside, it seemed that the tomb they were in was situated in a gloomy graveyard. Harris, Whisker and Humble blundered through the gravestones and ran as if their lives depended on it – which they did.
Charley wanted to get out too, but the only way she would leave this chamber was with Billy and Doogie at her side. The mummy marched towards her with surprising speed, as if the withered muscles were growing stronger – perhaps it was Cowley’s power as a magician that was growing instead. Charley wheeled backwards as fast as she could, positioning a pillar between her and the mummy while searching for something she could use as a weapon to fight the creature off.
“God save me!” yelled Queen Victoria.
Me too, thought Charley.
“Quick,” Charley whispered to Doogie. “Have you still got that knife tucked down your sock?”
“Aye,” said Doogie. “A true Scot always knows where his dirk is.”
“Well get it out quick,” she hissed, “and get Billy free!”
While Doogie headed towards Billy, Charley did what she could to distract Cowley and keep the mummy at bay.
The mummy had got closer than she’d realized and she had to duck as its massive fist swept over her head and buried itself in a pillar, sending up a cloud of dust. Charley spun her chair round and weaved between the pillars on the left-hand side of the temple…while Doogie made his way towards Billy on the right.
Cowley, meanwhile, was starting to panic as his schemes began to crumble around him. “Kill her!” yelled Cowley to his mummy servant. “Kill them all!”
The mummy followed Charley relentlessly, and she had no doubt she would be the one to get tired first. But Charley also knew that mummies had their brains removed by having a metal hook inserted up their nose. Her brain was very much where it should be. She should be able to outwit it!
Charley made a feint to the left, and when the mummy lurched in that direction, she darted to the right. She edged towards one of the flaming braziers filled with burning coals. It was just low enough for her to reach. Using her blanket to protect her hands from the scorching heat, Charley picked up the dish, and hurled it at the mummy like a discus.
Cowley roared in anger as he saw the missiles fly towards his bandage-wrapped slave. Queen Victoria shrieked as she flapped frantically to avoid the hailstorm of fire.
But the mummy was too quick. It swatted the spinning dish out of the air, sending it clanging against the temple wall. A few coals did strike home however, peppering the creature’s bandages with red-hot embers. A dozen points or more on the mummy’s body were on fire; but still it did not stop.
In all the confusion, Doogie scrabbled over to Billy and began to cut through the bandages. “Quicker!” hissed Billy.
Cowley was heading for them, his face full of thunder, dagger raised. “Oh no you don’t!” he yelled.
“Last one,” said Doogie, using his knife to saw through Billy’s bandages. Billy leaped free from the coffin just as Cowley was upon them. The butler lashed out with his foot, sending the cauldron flying. Billy and Doogie threw themselves clear of the hot wave of wax which came bubbling and blistering across the floor towards them. A thousand drops of liquid pain splashed out. Billy glanced into the coffin, now a fatal bath of molten wax. If I’d still been in there…
Back on his feet, Billy’s thoughts immediately went to the weapon rack next to the throne. Unfortunately Cowley read his mind.
“You want this, do you?” He lifted a brutal-looking double-bladed axe. “Come and get it, boy. But I warn you, I’ve been practising.” Cowley twisted his wrist and began to spin the axe expertly. “All work and no play makes the butler a dull boy.”
“Dull boy! Dull boy!” echoed Queen Victoria.
Without warning, the parrot swooped down towards Cowley. He flailed at the bird furiously, trying to fend it off. But Queen Victoria was quicker. With a triumphant caw, she snatched the Eye of Horus talisman that hung on a gold chain around his neck. There was a brief tug-of-war, the chain snapped and Queen Victoria flew off, the source of the Sandman’s magical power held firmly in her beak.
“Get the Eye of Horus, Duchess!” Billy yelled. “It’s how he controls the—”
Billy didn’t get to finish his sentence. Cowley’s axe whistled towards him, slicing the air. Billy flung himself face down and felt the whisper of the blade as it just missed his head.
Still following Cowley’s last command to kill them all, the mummy was now relentlessly stalking after Doogie. Though the lad had his knife ready, he was paralysed with fear. The mummy swept Doogie’s blade aside with one blow and grabbed him in a death grip.
Cowley swung his axe again, but Billy managed to snatch a hook-bladed sword from the rack and block the blow. Sparks flew as Cowley’s axe clanged against Billy’s sword.
“This is going to be fun,” sneered Cowley, raising his axe and raining down blow after blow. It was all that Billy could do to fend them off.
Doogie, meanwhile, was turning a shade of beetroot red as the mummy squeezed the life out of him, the bandaged arms crushing the lad’s ribcage.
Charley had set her sights on Queen Victoria and the Eye of Horus, but the stupid bird had found a place to perch near the top of one of the pillars. The parrot was fascinated by the talisman and showed no sign of wanting to come down.
“Sorry, Your Majesty,” said Charley, dragging her shoe off her foot and then throwing it straight at the bird. Queen Victoria dodged her missile but she also dropped the pendant. Yes!
Cowley saw it fall too and dived for it. Billy grabbed Cowley’s legs in a rugby tackle and they fell in a tangled heap. But Cowley’s grasping fingers were nearly there… “It’s mine I tell you. MINE!”
But his victory was cut short when Charley rolled her wheelchair over his outstretched hand and picked up the pendant for herself.
“The Eye of Horus,” said Charley, recognizing one of the most potent symbols in Egyptian magick. Tying a quick knot in the broken chain she slipped the necklace over her head. “Oh lovely,” she said, “it fits.”
Doogie was gasping for breath as the mummy continued to crush him remorselessly.
Charley raised her hand to the mummy. “Stop!”
Obediently the mummy froze.
“Release the boy.”
Again the mummy obeyed.
“No,” Cowley shrieked. “I am your master!”
The mummy growled at Cowley but refused to move.
“You obey ME!” Cowley was screaming now. “I brought you back to life, you are my servant, MINE!”
Charley wondered what order she should give the mummy. Kill Cowley? No, she was a police officer, not an executioner. Capture Cowley?
Charley allowed herself a smile as she came up with a different idea. Being a servant had driven Cowley down such a desperate and bitter path of revenge, so perhaps…?
“I give you one last command,” said Charley. “I set you free from whatever chains you have been bound with.”
The mummy started to roar. “Ffffffeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr.” Its head snapped round so that it was facing Cowley. It took a slow step towards its former master. Then another.
Cowley laughed. “See,” he sneered. “The mummy is my slave…and always will be.”
“Fffffffffeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeee,” groaned the mummy, standing in front of Cowley.
It placed one hand on Cowley’s shoulder. Then the other.
“Fffffferrrreeeeeee,” said the mummy. “Ffrree.”
The mummy’s hands began to squeeze Cowley’s shoulders. Charley watched the emotions change on Cowley’s face. Confusion becoming fear becoming pain.
Cowley wasn’t finished yet, however. With a massive show of force, he took his axe i
n both hands. Clenching the shaft and using it like a quarterstaff he pushed up and away, breaking the mummy’s death grip. Without even pausing, Cowley let one hand slide along the shaft and brought the axe down with a mighty chop.
The mummy looked at the stump where his arm had been. Then he looked down at his bandaged feet where the severed arm lay. “Freeeee,” the mummy growled, swinging his one remaining fist at Cowley’s head. On the floor, the detached arm jerked towards Cowley’s legs, snatching at his ankles and dragging a trail of loose bandages behind it.
Cowley attacked again. This time the axe connected with the mummy’s neck, slicing through the corpse like butter. The mummy’s head bounced across the floor to land at Billy’s feet.
But the headless body and the disconnected arm continued to attack.
“Freeee,” said the mummy’s severed head.
Billy picked it up. “Here you go, mate,” he said, tossing it to Cowley. “Catch!”
Cowley caught the head instinctively. As he held it in his hands more bandages uncurled. The leathery lips moved. “Free,” the mummy gurgled. Then it tried to bite Cowley’s fingers with its ancient brown teeth.
Charley and Doogie turned their attentions towards the door of the tomb and the outside world. A dog was barking in the distance – someone else was coming their way.
“Go, Doogie,” said Charley, “get out while you still can.”
Doogie looked at the three steep steps which led to the open door and freedom. He looked back at Charley. “I’ll not leave ye, miss.”
On impulse Charley took the young lad’s hand and kissed it. “Go and get help,” she said. “That’s an order.”
By now, Cowley had dropped the mummy’s head on the floor and lifted his axe to split it in two. He would have managed it too if Billy hadn’t stepped in behind him and grabbed him by the wrists. But Cowley was bigger and stronger than Billy and easily able to break the young detective’s hold. With a callous grin, Cowley turned and kicked Billy in the stomach. Billy crumpled to the floor in pain.
The headless mummy was beginning to unravel completely, the bandages peeling away from the preserved body. The strips of cloth writhed in the air like the legs of an octopus, apparently with a life of their own…
Cowley raised his axe again, this time aiming for Billy.
“Off with his head!” shouted Queen Victoria.
“Nooooooo!” shouted Charley.
“Freeee,” gurgled the mummy’s head.
Whilst Charley watched, terrified, the animated bandages reached out. They looped around Cowley’s wrists and pulled as tight as a hangman’s noose. Other living bandages snatched the axe out of Cowley’s grasp.
As Billy scrambled backwards on his hands and feet, every last strip of cloth unwound from the mummy. The bandages snaked out and lashed themselves around Cowley. He tried to escape but the bandages were too quick. First his legs were captured, rooting him to the spot. Then his arms, his body. His face.
It was a macabre sight. The mummy was gradually reduced to a walking headless skeleton, wizened brown muscles clinging to yellow bones, while Cowley was turned into a living mummy, screaming with every fresh binding that tightened around him.
Finally it was complete. The bodily remains of the mummy stood for a second – and then collapsed, disintegrating into dust. A grisly skull with leathery skin pulled tight against the bone was all that was left to show that the mummy had ever been there at all.
“Peace,” sighed the mummy’s skull and then his head too crumbled away into nothing more than sand.
The momentary silence was interrupted by the sound of footsteps like a herd of elephants, charging down the tomb steps. Wellington came first, a scrap of Billy’s trouser leg still in his jaws. Doogie was a close second, followed by three burly constables manhandling three ashamed-looking servants, dressed in Egyptian robes. Inspector Diggins brought up the rear, bravely wielding a notepad and sharp pencil.
“Just as I suspected,” Inspector Diggins declared, looking at Cowley who was struggling against his bandages. “I knew all along the bandages were a disguise.”
After the dust had settled… After Charley had washed the last traces of sand from her hair… After the stolen jewels had been returned and 44 Morningside Place restored to what it considered to be “normal”…Charley and Billy were sitting quietly in the corner of the Last Drop Tavern.
Like in so many of their investigations before, the bizarre and the supernatural had been mixed up with an ordinary commonplace sort of crime in the case of the mummy’s revenge. The Sandman, at the end of the day, was a servant with a grudge. And it had turned out that the Temple of the Seven Stars was located in a real tomb, but in Edinburgh, not ancient Egypt.
Rich men, like Lord Wintersfall, liked to look important even after they had died and spent fortunes building huge monuments in the cemeteries. This particular tomb, built in the Egyptian style, complete with carved palm trees on the front, was in The Grange cemetery, within sight of Lord Wintersfall’s house. Inspector Diggins had found his way there, thanks to the persistence and keen nose of a very special Scottish terrier named Wellington, and a scrap of Billy’s trousers which had given him just enough scent.
Inspector Diggins wasn’t very interested in the truth of the case. He had his suspects safely under lock and key and that was all that mattered to him. He didn’t want to hear any mumbo jumbo about mummies and Egyptian magick. Mrs Whisker, Mr Harris, Mr Humble and Mr Cowley wouldn’t be seeing freedom for quite some time.
“We didn’t get any credit again,” said Charley with a sigh.
“What’s new?” said Billy. “Anyway, we don’t do it for that, do we? That’s not what S.C.R.E.A.M. stands for.”
“So what do we stand for, Billy Flint?”
“Truth and justice, Charlotte Steel,” said Billy. “Following the clues wherever they take us. Finishing the case no matter what.”
“I suppose you’re right, Billy,” said Charley. “Remind me why you’ve brought us here?”
Billy smiled at his partner. “Do you remember the mummy’s final word?”
Charley nodded. How could she forget? “Peace.”
“Exactly,” said Billy. “And peace is one thing that our vital witness hasn’t known in a very long time. The case isn’t closed until Angry Annie gets justice too.”
The place was empty. Billy had even asked the barman to leave.
“Annabel,” said Billy gently. “It’s me, Billy.”
The ghost girl announced her presence with an icy blast.
“Is she here?” Charley asked, shivering.
“She’s here,” said Billy.
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” said Annie.
“I promised,” said Billy. “And I always keep my promises.”
“Can you really help me?” said Annie.
“I can,” said Billy.
Annabel’s face lit up. Charley smiled too, as the room began to thaw. She knew that Billy was as good as his word.
“What do you need from me?” Annabel pleaded. “I’ll do anything.” There was a hint of desperation in her voice.
“Please,” said Billy, “you don’t need to earn your freedom. It’s a gift.” Ghostly tears welled in Annabel’s eyes. “It’s time for you to move on to a better place,” said Billy. “If you want me to, I’d like to say a few words in Latin and then you’ll be released from the chains that you’ve bound yourself in.”
A light sparkled in Annabel’s eyes, making them seem blue and clear for the first time, instead of grey and dead.
Billy began. The words he spoke had a beauty and music that was all their own.
Peace fell upon the Last Drop Tavern. Charley couldn’t explain what she was experiencing. She felt safe, wrapped in a blanket of love. Accepted. Forgiven. Charley closed her eyes and it was a summer’s day inside her mind. The warmth was all around her. She was running through a field, laughing. The sheer joy actually spilled over her lips and Charley laughe
d out loud. She opened her eyes, worried she had spoiled the moment somehow.
Billy was sitting there with a huge smile on his face.
“Has she gone?” asked Charley.
The answer came in the shape of a single white feather, appearing out of nowhere and floating down towards them. “I don’t understand,” said Charley, picking the feather up and examining it.
“Neither do I,” said Billy. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”
Roll up, roll up, if you dare, to Doctor Vindicta’s Carnival! Gasp at the dancing ghosts! Grimace at the creepy clowns! Giggle in the hall of mirrors!
It’s all harmless fun and frights…until a young boy disappears. The police believe he’s run away, but his sister swears he was snatched by a monster.
Only the bravest detectives can arrest a demon: Billy Flint and Charley Steel, aka S.C.R.E.A.M., top-secret investigators of Supernatural Crimes, Rescues, Emergencies and Mysteries.
It is 1891 and London is at war. High up on the rooftops lives a ragtag band of orphans and spies – the Watchers – protectors of the city. Below the cobbled streets lurks the Legion, a ruthless gang of cut-throats and thieves, plotting to unleash the forces of HELL.
When a mysterious coin falls into his hands, street urchin, Ben Kingdom, is flung into the midst of this ancient battle. The fate of the world now rests with Ben, but which side will he choose? An army of angels…or the claws of evil.
BEN KINGDOM
The Battles of Ben Kingdom
The Claws of Evil
The Feast of Ravens
The City of Fear
Firstly, I want to thank Rebecca Hill for her unstinting support. Thanks also to Will Steele for his awesome design work and the brilliant Manuel Šumberac for his stunning cover. Special thanks, as always, go to the rather wonderful Anne Finnis; my first guide in the world of publishing. I must also mention Helen Greathead; I’ll never forget your help.
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