Valley of Kings

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Valley of Kings Page 13

by Michael Northrop


  Behind him, Luke winced unseen.

  There was no light to give them away now, and they switched off their flashlights as the doorway slid open. But the tomb was dark and quiet beyond. They stepped out cautiously, switched their flashlights back on, and pointed them at the floor.

  “King Tut’s tomb,” whispered Ren as the battered and lightly toasted crew shuffled through the famous chambers. When they’d seen it the first time, it had been a bone-strewn archaeological site. Now it felt like walking through a friend’s place after he’d moved away.

  “That dude was all right,” said Luke, almost to himself.

  “Funny, he said the same thing about you — Duuuude,” said Ren.

  Luke let out a little laugh, but he secretly wished she wouldn’t be so nice. It made everything harder for him. There was no sign of The Order inside, but they grew quiet again as they neared the exit. The cool night air soothed their skin, and moonlight filled the tunnel mouth as the three crept forward. Before they even made it to the shark-cage gate, they could see the flashlights and hear the muffled words of their pursuers. But they were no longer right in front of the tomb.

  “They’re heading away,” whispered Alex. Luke leaned out and saw the sun-bleached bone of the back of Peshwar’s mask glowing eerily in the faint moonlight. They were slowly moving on. It was good news, but Luke’s heart sank.

  “We should go now, before they change their mind or send someone back,” whispered Ren.

  Alex agreed: “We can slip off in the other direction if we stay low and move quietly.”

  The open valley lay in front of them and the murderous hunting party lurked behind. His cousin was right: They probably could make it.

  But Luke could never allow that. Not this close. Not when they might see him, too, and know he helped.

  His head swam and his guts churned. For a moment, he thought he might throw up, right then and there. He almost wished he would. It would do the job well enough. He couldn’t believe he’d gotten himself into this mess.

  It had seemed so easy at first. They’d just wanted information. And they’d paid well for it. Well enough that he would be able to get private coaching, the best equipment, everything he’d need to live his dream.

  But then they’d gone further — way too far. He’d wanted to quit then. He’d tried to quit. He thought knocking out the guy on the train was a pretty effective resignation. Then he’d made that last phone call in Luxor …

  He filled his lungs with cool night air.

  For a few more steps, that was all he did. But then he forced himself to remember that call, the actual words: We’ll kill them. We’ll kill your parents.

  “HEY!” he shouted. “We’re over here!”

  Alex and Ren swung around, the moonlight delicately tracing the shock on their faces. A moment later, the sound of boots, running hard, filled the air.

  “I’m sorry,” Luke said, punishing himself by looking his friends in the eyes.

  “Luke …” said Alex, and the disappointment and hurt in his voice smashed Luke’s heart like glass.

  “I had to,” he said, his own tone just as heavy.

  “I can’t believe …” said Ren, wrestling with it. “You’re the mole?”

  Luke looked down, his friends’ expressions already burned into his memory. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. Then he stood up tall and pointed down at his crouched comrades.

  “OVER HERE!” he shouted again.

  The worst part for Alex was that he kind of could believe it. He’d wanted to believe that his cooler, older cousin really did like him, really was his friend. And maybe he’d wanted that too much, because the memories flashed through his mind now. Every time Luke had slipped away to make a phone call — and every time The Order had been waiting for them. And not just in Egypt. He remembered how Luke had “stalled” the cult’s thugs just long enough for Alex to arrive at a museum in London. He remembered the sight of Ren knocked out on the floor and the eerie sense that they’d all been waiting for him. It had been a trap …

  The crack of a rifle and the ping of a bullet jarred him back to brutal reality. Luke took off running, not so much toward the hunters as away from the prey. Alex watched him go, and other memories went with him: of the times he’d helped them, saved them. Could it all have been just to gain their trust? The sky lit up red.

  An energy dagger exploded into the sandy ground at Alex’s feet with a vicious crackle. For a second he and Ren were lit clearly in the night. A chorus of rifle fire followed, and the two remaining friends dove for cover.

  Ren made a small sound, like a yelp, as she hit the ground.

  “Are you hit?” Alex gulped.

  “I’m okay,” she gasped.

  The night lit up red again. Another energy dagger zoomed just over Ren’s head. Peshwar was getting closer and finding her range. The rifles sounded in the crimson light, but even as the volley of bullets flew one way, Alex sent a wave of wind and sand back the other. Turned toward the enemy with his right hand outstretched, Alex felt a bullet tear through the nylon of his pack. The impact tugged him a few inches back — which is how much the next bullet missed him by.

  “Not the boy!” he heard Peshwar shout. “Kill the little one, the girl.”

  It was Alex’s worst nightmare: His best friend paying for his life with hers.

  As another dagger came flying through the night, Alex and Ren raced back into the only cover the moonlit valley floor offered: Tut’s tomb. Alex slammed the gate behind him with his hand and then spent precious seconds locking it with his amulet. He had no illusions that a shark-cage gate could stop a lioness, but maybe it could buy them enough time.

  They rushed back into the pitch-dark tomb to the sound of shouts and boots behind them.

  “We’re trapping ourselves!” huffed Ren.

  “The secret doorway —” said Alex.

  “But Luke …” Ren said. “Luke knows about it.”

  “Maybe they won’t be able to get it open. It’s our best chance.”

  And now that they were back inside the tomb, it was the only one left.

  They raced through the now familiar tomb, the sound of crashing metal behind them speeding their steps as they crossed the treasury chamber.

  The strange doorway had already slid halfway closed since their exit, protecting its secret like healing a wound. Ren rushed through the narrow gap and Alex turned his shoulders to follow.

  Once inside he glanced back at the shrinking portal. Hurry, little doorway, he thought.

  “Come on,” hissed Ren.

  They rushed down the tunnel, their flashlight beams lightning-bugging in front of them. They reached the second doorway and Alex turned sideways and sucked in his chest to squeeze inside.

  “Maybe they won’t find the entrance,” he said, peering out the gap — but a moment later, light leaked into the top of the tunnel. Voices echoed down it, and then footsteps. The first doorway hadn’t closed fast enough. The friends watched from the inside as the second doorway finally slid shut, sealing them in the ancient underground chamber.

  They both knew this was where they’d make their final stand.

  Ren swung her flashlight around, confirming that Akhenotra was still out of commission. She remembered Todtman’s warning: Without the Lost Spells, the Walkers might be able to come back again.

  She could hear Alex breathing next to her. “What do we do now?” she said.

  “We wait, I guess,” he whispered back. “I try to keep this door shut: my amulet against her mask.”

  “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “Then we fight.”

  Ren nodded. Easy for him to say. His amulet had some teeth. Hers seemed more confusing than dangerous. Then she remembered something. She swung her flashlight across the floor until the beam reflected back at her. She went over and picked up Tut’s sword, still warm to the touch.

  “Do you know how to use that thing?” asked Alex as she returned to his side.

  �
��No idea,” she admitted.

  Two quick thuds cut the conversation short.

  “They’re hitting the other side,” said Alex. “With a rifle or something.”

  Another thud, and then silence.

  “If they get in …” Ren began. She shuddered deeply in the still warm chamber as she pictured it. A pack of armed gunmen bursting into the chamber, followed by the lioness …

  “We don’t have much of a chance,” said Alex softly, confirming her fears. “If only there were some other way out. Some other …”

  His flashlight swept along the wall and then stopped. “There! I see a …” But his voice trailed off. It was just the false door. The space between the columns was solid rock, painted reddish orange. It was a symbolic gateway for the dead, but a dead end for the living.

  Behind them, the wall cracked open and a long gap appeared, lit by electric light. Alex grasped his amulet and tried to push back with his mind against Peshwar’s magic. But four strong hands reached into the gap and began to pull. The opening grew.

  Alex dropped the amulet. He and Ren rushed behind the altar, the only cover the room had to offer, nearly tripping over the death-curled Death Walker. As the doorway slid open, light spilled into the chamber. They crouched behind the stone slab as an electric lantern lit the room around them. It was a sad game of hide-and-seek: a game they couldn’t win for a price they couldn’t pay.

  Alex leaned closer and whispered: “When they come in, I’ll go at them with everything I’ve got. If I can hold them off for long enough, maybe you can sneak —”

  “No!” said Ren, a little too loud. “I am not leaving you here.”

  She felt the weight of the sword in her hand and understood its futility.

  As the voices entered the chamber and the lantern reduced their hiding place to a shrinking puddle of shadow, she slowly put down the sword.

  As Alex whispered two last words — “Get ready” — her hand moved to her amulet.

  Alex’s scarab could do so much — had done so much. The ibis had helped them in London but been completely unreliable here, confusing as much as it cleared up. Why?

  Ren couldn’t understand the lioness’s words, but she could hear the footsteps getting closer. She knew her best friend would pop up and start fighting soon, and that their last battle would begin and end in this chamber.

  What am I doing wrong? she asked herself. I am trying even harder now. Whenever I use it, I try so hard …

  And just like that, she thought she understood. There was only one way to know for sure. As she slowly wrapped her hand around her amulet, she formed a few words of her own. The hunters were too close now even for whispers, so she said them in her head.

  She hadn’t earned her A’s on the tests alone. She put too much pressure on herself and froze up or overthought things sometimes. But the extra credit, whether questions or assignments: That’s where she earned her A’s. Because there were no wrong answers there. They could only help, never hurt. No pressure, everything free for the taking.

  Extra credit, she said to herself. Anything the ibis gives me is more than we have now. She didn’t squint down and hold her breath. She just closed her eyes and let the images come. To her surprise, there was only one this time. Simple and clear.

  “Alex,” she said, opening her eyes.

  But Alex was already standing up. His hand was around his own amulet, and a sudden powerful wind wiped away her words. He ducked back down next to her and she tried again: “Alex!”

  But gunfire and the crackle of an energy dagger drowned out her words. Bullets chipped rock from the back wall, and the crimson energy exploded into the altar in front of them, lighting the chamber like a red dawn.

  “Give up now or I will kill you both,” called Peshwar in English. “It was never my wish to spare you.”

  Ren shouted in Alex’s ear: “Blast her one more time and then run as hard as you can through that!” She pointed toward the false door along the wall to their right.

  As she did, she saw the toe of a boot poke out from the side of the altar. One of the gunmen had reached them. Ren reached down and — in one quick motion, as the bullet slid into the chamber of the rifle above them — she brought the sword up and down.

  “AAAAAAAH!” cried the man, blood rushing out the chopped-off end of his boot.

  “Never mind,” Ren shouted, dropping the sword and grabbing Alex’s shoulder. “Go now!”

  They sprang to their feet and rushed past the one-and-a-half-footed gunman. Alex swiped his free hand out to the side, releasing a fan of concentrated air to hold their attackers off, but a red glow grew in the room.

  As the energy dagger flew straight toward the sprinting friends, Ren rushed toward the painted stone of the false door, dragging Alex behind her.

  “What are you doing?” he shouted.

  “Trust me!” she called back. It was her turn to take the lead, but she still had doubts. She’d seen herself stepping through this thing, but if she was wrong …

  “Wait!” called Alex, but his legs kept churning.

  She braced for the dull thud of stone, the possibility of impact, as she ran headfirst into the false door. But instead of a crash, she felt a strange, static POP!

  She had run straight through the wall — and out of the world she knew.

  She found herself in a strange twilight realm, lit only by the dim glow of a distant horizon. Her body felt as if it were suspended in some unseen liquid, and there was a loud buzzing in her ears. It was a shadowy dream world, but she could feel it humming all around her like a high-voltage wire, and she knew deep down that it was both real and dangerous.

  A moment later, she felt Alex’s weight under her hand again as she dragged him through the portal behind her. She dug her hand tight into his arm but didn’t dare look back.

  All around her, strange sights and sounds vied for her attention. Human voices, human faces, and other voices, too, other shapes. She saw a stronger light in front of her, a glowing square. She ran toward it, her feet feeling slow and heavy. She pulled Alex along, terrified she would lose her grip.

  She tried to shout out to him, but there was no oxygen in her lungs, and none around them. And yet she felt fine, as if she’d never needed air in the first place.

  A massive serpent cut across her vision, as long as two city buses — an image out of a nightmare. Her eyes grew wide. She ran faster, pulled harder. The square of light was just ahead, revealing itself for what it really was. Could she reach it before the ghostly serpent reached them?

  Its mouth was opening now, an abyss of blackness behind long, gray fangs. Another step, another tug, and the light of the doorway swallowed them. The serpent vanished into memory.

  Dark again.

  “Alex?” she said, surprised to find air in her lungs.

  Silence, and then …

  “Mmmm. Air conditioning.”

  Ren put her hand down and felt cool tile. They were lying on the floor. The air around them crisp, almost cold …

  She rose to one knee and her eyes slowly adjusted to the weak light. There were tall windows along the wall, framing an unfamiliar nighttime scene. And inside, a soft electric glow that Ren had known her entire life.

  “It’s a museum,” she said. “We’re in a museum.”

  She didn’t know which museum, or where, but she knew what wing they were in. The ancient Egyptian false door behind them told her that much.

  Head still reeling, Alex took a moment to assess his surroundings. The museum setting calmed his frayed nerves slightly as he leaned forward to read a small silver-gray information plaque. He knew the language well enough. His father was Egyptian, but his mother’s family … “It’s German,” he whispered.

  “Are we in Germany?” said Ren.

  “I don’t know,” said Alex. His head was swimming with too many questions to list, much less answer. He gazed out a tall window at the placid night beyond, where sleek, modern streetlights glowed softly. “Maybe,” he
added.

  “How is that possible?” said Ren.

  He shook his head. He felt like a small boat bobbing up and down on waves of disbelief. “No idea.”

  But Ren kept at it. “Did we just travel through …”

  “I think so,” Alex said, admitting it as much to himself as to her. “We just traveled through the afterlife.”

  A look of horror dawned on Ren’s face, and she looked down at her own hand as if expecting to find a skeleton there. “It’s okay,” said Alex. “I think the false doors, and the amulets — your amulet …” He smiled at her.

  But as he took a step toward her, his foot broke an invisible beam, and the museum’s state-of-the-art laser security system lit up the room with a fireworks show of flashing light and blaring noise.

  They didn’t know what they were doing — or where they were going — but they’d had plenty of experience running at this point. They followed the glowing arrows of the exit signs as the sounds of shouts and footsteps joined the cacophony.

  Ren spotted the front doors first and arrived a few seconds ahead of Alex. He looked back over his shoulder and saw a pair of guards rushing down a grand marble staircase. He turned back to the doors and reached for his amulet to try to unlock them.

  But Ren was already holding her amulet. Before he could even take hold of his, he saw a white glow flash from her closed fist and heard a loud click!

  “Got it!” she said.

  Alex looked over at her, a strange mix of surprise and pride washing through him. “That’s new,” he managed.

  “Just push!” she said.

  The friends shouldered through the door and bolted like racehorses into the night. Alex felt both freedom and frustration, triumph and sorrow. They’d failed to recover the Lost Spells and lost a friend, but they’d banished a Death Walker. He’d picked up his mom’s trail but was left with nothing more than a name from the past. Angela Felini had taken care of him — and moved away. Was this his mom’s way of saying that she was moving on, too? It was a terrifying thought, but he had no way to know for sure.

  What he did know: There was still work to do, and the time for babysitters was over. Was he on his own, then? He looked over at the boot-chopping, amulet-wielding best friend running beside him. Far from it.

 

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