The Curse of the Silver Pharaoh

by Pip Ballantine

  Stella took in a quick breath and looked back to Suzanne. Verity caught in the girl’s smile a strange tightness. Had she forgotten Suzanne was there, holding a gun? “I’ll explain once we escape the academy.”

  Verity’s gaze jumped back to the Psusennes. He had dipped his head slightly while staring at her, a sly grin on his face. How long had he been looking at her like that? You have done well, Verity Fitzroy. She felt her skin prickle at hearing him speak her real name. Your loyalty will be rewarded.

  His face suddenly twisted into a savage snarl as his eyes flared angrily.

  That was when Verity realized Stella had turned her back on Psusennes.

  “Stella!” Verity managed to scream just as he placed his fingers on either side of the girl’s head and spun her around to face him.

  With a wild roar and a flash of sickly green light, Psusennes leaned in with mouth agape. He looked as if he would kiss the terrified Stella Masters, her face frozen in a wild scream, but he stopped just short of her lips. He took in a great, deep breath, and Stella shook wildly as green mist caressed her body. In the space between their mouths, a pearlescent fog rushed out of Stella’s body and into his own. The more he drew, the paler Stella became. Even after her eyes rolled back into her head, her body wracked violently as Psusennes continue to feed.

  Agent Thorne’s story came rushing back to Verity. “The following morning, King Psusennes and his men had disappeared once again, but their servants and seconds were discovered. According to the hieroglyphics, their bodies had been completely drained of all life. Their beloved pharaoh, it appeared, had become something quite terrible.”

  As Verity heard Agent Thorne tell the story of Psusennes to her once again, Stella’s skin began to draw tight against her bones and muscle, and her already pale skin was now turning a sickening grey.

  The Silver Pharaoh was not a vampire. He was something much, much worse.

  The glowing white fog thinned between their mouths, and then finally dissipated. Psusennes was still taking in a breath, even as he tipped his head back up to the ceiling. He then let out a mighty roar as he cast aside the husk that was once Stella Masters, and raised his arms up to the ceiling. Verity could see the feeding had, in fact, added girth to the Silver Pharaoh. He looked less spindly under his wrappings. Muscles bulged while his eyes grew brighter.

  A scream tore through the second of silence, and with a puff of black and emerald mist, a small hole appeared in the centre of his chest.

  Psusennes looked up and began to advance on Suzanne as she fired again, and again, and again. The Silver Pharaoh’s arm reached out for her, as Suzanne stumbled back, the gun now dry firing as the space between them diminished.

  “Psusennes!” a voice bellowed.

  The words that came out of Doctor Xavier Williams were not completely alien to Verity. She recognised some of them as being used by the workers on her father’s digs, but the dialect was strange. He gestured with his free hand while the other clutched on to the Sconce of Ra. Spittle flew from his mouth as he beat his chest and ended this strange tirade with thrusting two fingers upward.

  Psusennes stood statuesque for perhaps one of the longest, strangest moments in Verity’s life.

  “Run,” Doctor Williams said just as the Pharaoh’s face darkened.

  Verity, with Suzanne and Doctor William, on her heels were halfway down the corridor between the tomb and William’s broken sand circle be the time Psusennes had finished his furious cry. The sounds of stone breaking and crumbling came from behind them. What was that monster doing to what was supposed to be his eternal resting place?

  “Doctor,” Verity shouted over her shoulder, “what did you say to him?”

  “As I told you,” he huffed as they entered the first chamber once again, “the language of his time is completely different from what we understand as Egyptian although some words are intelligible. So I said something about his family’s lineage, his mother, his sister, and a pack of hunting dogs. I simply gambled what I was saying was an insult.”

  On reaching the massive silver door, another growl echoed from the inner-chamber.

  “I believe you have succeeded, Doctor. Well done,” Verity said.

  She turned around and held her breath. With the battle raging both inside and outside the school, the secret corridors were covered with a heavy film of dust. There would be no way to follow her original pathway out of the passageways.

  There was another problem. Smoke. The school was on fire.

  “We’re going to die. We’re going to die. We’re going to die,” blathered Suzanne, shaking her hands wildly. “We don’t know where to go, and we are under attack, and there’s a great mummy out to kill us!”

  “Keep your wits about you, for goodness sake,” Verity snapped. The corridor ahead was filling with smoke, but the junction to her right was clear. “This way.”

  The three of them sprinted down the narrow corridor, despite the heat rising all around. Thankfully, the air was still relatively clear of smoke. Verity had taken so many twists and turns in these corridors, there was no way to tell where they were.

  Their path reached its end, right and left both showing signs of the growing fire. Wisps of thick white smoke remained suspended like cobwebs attached to air.

  “Left or right?” Suzanne pressed. “Left or right?”

  A wall behind them exploded, and Psusennes in all his wrapped glory stepped through the opening. The pharaonic crown was jammed on his head, while he brandished the crook and flail in his hands. The snake protruding from the crown was the only part that was gold instead of silver. Swirls of sand angrily dancing around him only illuminated his horror. His flail crackled with the kind of white lightning Mr Tesla himself would have been in awe of. It was a weapon Verity was in no hurry to examine closely.

  “Go left!” Verity said, leading the way.

  “Why left?” asked Suzanne.

  “Call it a feeling.”

  They could hear the electric crack of the flail behind them as they followed the passage. The smoke was thick at some points, stinging Verity’s eyes, while it thinned out at other points. As curious as she was about what was happening to the school, she was terrified to find out exactly what.

  Another path ending. “Right. Go right!”

  Verity turned the corner and Doctor Williams and Suzanne collided into her. Only a few feet ahead, the corridor ended. There was no visible latch. No exit.

  Behind them, the Silver Pharaoh emerged.

  The dead end disappeared in a wild rush of fire, wind, and sound. Verity squinted at the sudden kick up of dust, and from the other side of the debris veil, she saw a dimly lit face surrounded by a halo of red hair.

  “Ach! Wonderful stuff that Vesuvian Fire!” Julia called.

  Verity nearly ran down Julia as she emerged from the smouldering hole she created. “You found us!”

  “Nah, I didn’t find ya’ but he did!” Julia said pointing behind her on the floor.

  Scooting about in a wide circle was Mickey, his green eyes blinking madly while his mechanical nose and ears twitched.

  “Verity!” Emma squeaked.

  “You found Emma and Henry!” Verity asked, scooping up Mickey and shoving him into her pocket.

  “I found Emma. Couldna’ find Henry, but I’m guessin’ he’s outside.” Julia said, not paying any notice to Williams or Suzanne running up to join Verity. “But good news, I found—BLOODY HELL WHA’ IS THA’?!?”

  They all turned to see the Silver Pharaoh, his eyes so bright and hot they were almost white.

  “Excuse me,” a voice said from behind them. They all turned to see the bell-shaped barrel of a Lee-Metford Mark III. “Please move.”

  The small group of people parted as the Red Sea to this Moses. The barrel flared to life as a concentrated sphere of light erupted from it and punched the Silver Pharaoh square in the chest, knocking him several hundred yards down the secret passageway.

  “Oh, I like this model,” the
saviour said with delight. “This one will be hard to top.”

  Verity looked up and wondered for a moment if she were not having some sort of odd hallucination. “Mrs Seddon?”

  “Questions and answers later, Fitzroy,” Seddon said, scooping up Emma as if she weighed nothing.

  The odd sensation washed over Verity once again. Did Mrs Seddon just call her Fitzroy?

  “Come along, everyone. The shelter is no longer safe, we have to get out.” Seddon said, pushing them towards the main exit. They were not the only ones.

  Julia and Verity joined the rush for the front door, a collection of both students and teachers, as fire was now spreading through the wing. There were bodies everywhere, most of them of men and women wearing what looked like ancient robes. Persian, perhaps? They had just rounded the corner when a wall in front of them exploded outward, and Psusennes burst into the school. There was no question on his desiccated face. Pharaohs were not used to being treated in such an insolent fashion.

  Then he looked about. All around were children with enough life to restore him to the monster he was in ancient times. Perhaps stronger.

  That was a terrifying thought.

  “Mrs Seddon,” Verity said, yanking the Sconce of Ra out of Williams’ grasp. “Get everyone to safety.”

  “Are you mad, girl?” Seddon said, removing the rifle from her shoulder. “We can put him down—”

  “He’s after this,” Verity said, waving the sconce in her hand, “and if I do not lure him away, other students are going to die.” She shuffled away from the rest of her party, running towards the pharaoh. “Get out of here! Now!”

  The Silver Pharaoh stopped advancing on seeing Verity with the Sconce. “You want this?” she cried over the drone of growing fire around them.

  He snarled once, then launched into a dead run for her. Feeding off of Stella Masters made him quite agile for a monarch of Ancient Egypt.

  “You must want this rather badly then,” she said, ducking into a nearly staff stairwell.

  Her ascent was relatively flame free. That was until the flail struck her at the top of the staircase. She felt the arc of lightning scorch her arm and strike a far window, engulfing it in flames.

  “Just avoid the fire and the pharaoh,” she muttered to herself as she ran down the smoke-filled corridor, searching for another way up. “Oh yes, and try not to think about how Mum and Dad died while you do it, Verity.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  From the Frying Pan

  Verity pounded up the stairs, even as they began to clog with smoke. Coughing and hacking, she struggled to keep her lead on the rejuvenated Silver Pharaoh. Psusennes, being undead as he was, did not have to bother about silly things like breathing or smoke—which was monumentally unfair. Even the blast from Mrs Seddon’s rifle only impeded him briefly. It was the pockets of fresh air provided by blown-out windows which helped her stay out of reach of the Silver Pharaoh’s deadly flail.

  With her sleeve over her mouth, her eyes stinging like mad, she kept running for the Astronomy classroom. Verity had to believe Henry’s ornithopter was still up there, safely tucked away and untouched by the flames. This hope was all that kept her baser instincts to escape the school with Mrs Seddon and the others at bay. If Henry were to have fetched his prize possession earlier that day, this mad dash would be for nothing.

  Well, not true. How many other students would she have saved in luring the pharaoh up here? Agent Thorne would be proud, for certain.

  Clearing the final stairwell, Verity could see the clouds of smoke billowing around her gleaming with a greenish hue. The Silver Pharaoh was close behind, and the fire was raging ahead of her. What she had snatched from his tomb was worth pursuing her to the bitter end. For a moment, just giving into the smoke and the Ancient Egyptian was tempting. She was tired, frightened, woozy, and the heat was overwhelming. Surely she would pass out before the flames reached her.

  Another rafter fell from above. Verity ducked and pushed herself against the side of the building as it tumbled past her. This was what her parents had endured. They died in flames, but perhaps this was her fate too.

  Then she thought of her uncle, Octavius the liar. Verity knew if she gave up now he would win, victorious while her parents would still be dead.

  That could not nor would not be allowed.

  Pushing herself away from the wall, Verity stretched out and caught hold of the final ladder. The rungs were giving off a fair amount of heat, but thankfully it was a short ladder. When she reached the top, she felt for the hatch leading to the roof. The handle was hot, hotter than the rungs, and would not give.

  On her third attempt, the Silver Pharaoh emerged from the grey clouds of smoke, his emerald fire eyes focused on her as he gave the flail a crack. The Sound was reaching to the weapon in his hand, to the æther he conjured, and she could feel the anger coalescing in her head. There was no pattern or rhythm with this flail. It had lost its elegance and became nothing more than a hammer to her skull.

  Verity heaved once more and the hatch flew open. The fresh air was delightful, and it tasted all the sweeter as she hoisted herself on to the rooftop. She threw the metal latch tight, securing the access door for what she hoped would be a precious few minutes. It would be all she would need for a grand escape off the rooftop.

  Verity scrambled for the corner of the roof where she’d last seen Henry stash his beloved ornithopter. She moved aside the façade of wood crates and found the hidey hole…

  The ornithopter was not there.

  Her heart racing, her breath coming in gasps, she looked around desperately, but there was nothing up here to help her. She would die alone, either consumed by fire or by the hand of the Silver Pharaoh.

  She could just make out in the darkness, from the glow of the Delancy Academy, the remains of an airship strewn across the cricket pitch. There were no soldiers making a final stand. There were no students running for safety. She dared to run across the roof to see the front of the school, plumes of smoke licking out and up along the manor. Verity saw small clusters of people. Students arranged by year? Hopefully, everyone was accounted for. What of the cats? Would they have also made it to safety?

  A sudden crack snapped her back to the present. Behind her she heard the snapping of the flail against the access hatch. Sparks flew from it. Her merry little chase to the rooftop had not improved his mood one jot. Verity had no more roof remaining, and what was left shifted under her feet.

  Verity pushed the Sound back, the flail and Psuseunnes’ dark æther so loud it felt as if her body would be torn apart. She would not give him the satisfaction being connected to her in such a fashion.

  The loud snap under her feet suggested the winner might be the fire. The door flew off its hinges, and Psusennes emerged. He stood on the warping rooftop for a moment, his gaze locked with hers, wild and demanding. You petulant child, a voice hissed in her head as he gave the flail a quick crack.

  “Time to find out which afterlife is real,” Verity spat, holding up the Sconce, “Mine, or yours.”

  Her feet were suddenly jerked from her spot. With all the breath suddenly knocked out of her, she was carried aloft, getting a glimpse of the roof of the academy caving in from the West Wing, gradually making its way in a long, fiery wave to the Silver Pharaoh.

  She felt herself dip, and with Psusennes coming to her quickly, Verity kicked. She felt her heels connect with his head. The Silver Pharaoh reached for her as he fell into the fire’s maw, but she was ascending once again.

  “Sorry,” Henry yelled down to her, “I nearly missed you.” He had one hand on the tiller of his ornithopter and the other wrapped around her waist. Amazing coordination, this lad possessed.

  Verity would have gasped out some kind of thanks, but she was immediately aware stability and altitude were a challenge. While he maintained control and lift in his approach, Henry’s ornithopter had never been designed for two. Add unseasonal currents of hot air coming off the Academy, and aer
odynamics were about as sound as a house of cards on a windy day. Verity had to clutch onto him as they pivoted around the burning manor house. The herky-jerky flight provided her rather a grand view of the building’s destruction, which she would have appreciated more if their rather frail craft had not suddenly lurched downwards.

  “Hold on,” he bellowed as the ornithopter dipped and glided like a wounded bird towards the lawn. Verity squeezed her eyes shut as the dimly-illuminated moors of Cornwall leapt up to grab hold of them.

  Around the two of them the ornithopter’s frame cracked and snapped, sending them on a teeth-rattling slide thanks to a final pitch backward that levelled out the two aeronauts somewhat. Their slide came to an abrupt end when a wingtip caught the ground, sending them both into a hideous tumble and a final jarring end.

  Verity finally remembered to breathe again as she slowly pulled herself up. “Henry? Henry?” she finally gasped out.

  His groan to her left at least sounded better than a dying scream. He and the majority of his craft were wedged under a tree. She tossed a broken wing aside, and went to pull him free of the remaining wreckage. That was when he let out a holler of pain.

  “My arm,” he winced. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Maybe other things, too.” She caught a glimpse of his face, rather scratched up, peering out at her, and her heart gave a leap. “But we made it,” he said with a slightly strained laugh.

  “If a broken arm is all you walk away with, you’ll be jolly lucky,” Verity replied, and almost instantly regretted sounding so sharp. Aircraft of any kind were finely balanced creations, and there was just too much weight. This ornithoper had been Henry’s passion, and it was done and dusted, for her sake. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Just stay still. You don’t know what else could be wrong. I’ll go find someone to help me get you out.”

  Verity took only a few steps away from their crash when she realised the Sconce of Ra was no longer on her person. Nor was it anywhere around the wreckage. “Oh no.”

  The trail they tore into the grass was longer than she realised, but no matter. The object was cylindrical and could have rolled away from them on their initial impact. However, the sconce was heavy; not to mention gold with bits of white and black decorating it. The bloody thing should be easy enough to find against rich, green grass, yes?