Lair of the Winged Monster

by Dan Hunter

  All the while, Sekhmet watched from the cage, neither moving nor speaking. But Akori could feel her silent approval.

  Nekhbet changed her grip on the khopesh, holding it with both hands and raising it high. Murderous hate burned in her eyes. Akori knew she was getting ready to swing the blade down like a cleaver. He looked at Ebe and gave her a quick nod. Ebe leaped through the air, landing heavily on Nekhbet’s back. Her hands wrapped around the Goddess’s beady vulture eyes. While Nekhbet struggled to throw Ebe off, Akori sprang at her and grabbed the khopesh by the hilt. Before she could react, he wrenched the sword from her grasp. At last it was his again!

  Nekhbet reached up behind her, grabbed the struggling Ebe and flung the girl over her own head, slamming her down hard on the stone floor.

  Ebe yelled in pain. The Vulture Goddess stabbed at her with her long beak. But the next moment Nekhbet was screaming and diving out of the way as Akori slashed at her with the khopesh. Now it was in his hands again, it filled him with new strength. Nekhbet tried desperately to ward off his blows, but Akori was raging and unstoppable. She ducked, and the khopesh smashed a chunk out of the stone wall. As Nekhbet staggered back yet again, her huge wings making her clumsy, Akori brought the sword down in a fierce two-handed stroke. Nekhbet caught the blade in her long claws and strained to keep it away from her body.

  For a moment the two were locked in a trial of strength. The vulture eyes glared into Akori’s, filled with black hate. Then Akori whipped the sword away and stepped back several paces. He glanced back over his shoulder. The sizzling hot cage bars were right behind him.

  Nekhbet steadied herself and began a lumbering charge. She clearly meant to shove Akori against the cage and burn him alive. He would be grilled, like meat on a hot stove!

  But Akori had planned for this. With perfect timing, he ran, leaped and spun around in a full circle, whirling the sword around with him for maximum force. Blade struck vulture skull with a tremendous, final crack, knocking her sideways.

  Nekhbet staggered, clutching her head, and fell. She lay limp and unmoving, her beak open. Akori knew she was only stunned; Goddesses were impossible to kill. He might have only seconds before she recovered. “Horus,” he prayed, “if you can hear me, help me now!” He turned to face the cage door and with a mighty cry, thrust the khopesh deep into the lock.

  Akori closed his eyes, expecting to feel burning heat explode in his face. But there was no heat at all. The cage bars were dark and cold. Horus must have heard him!

  The door swung open. Like a stalking lioness, Sekhmet slowly walked out of her prison. Her eyes were fixed on Nekhbet, whose own black eyes were already blinking open.

  “No,” the Vulture Goddess croaked, cowering away as she saw Sekhmet was free. “I had no choice! I was obeying Set!”

  Sekhmet growled and Nekhbet scrambled back further. Seeing the terror in her eyes, Akori almost felt sorry for her.

  “In the name of Horus the Avenger, be gone!” Sekhmet growled. “Back to the Underworld!”

  And with that, Nekhbet dissolved into black smoke and seeped away into the floor.

  Sekhmet turned to Akori. “Thank you, young one,” she said. “You are indeed brave.” She held out her silver shield. “This is my gift to you. Guard it well, and it will guard you well in return.”

  Akori took Sekhmet’s shield from her hands.

  “It will never break,” she said, “and whoever bears it cannot be harmed by evil magic.”

  Smiling gratefully, Akori bowed down before the mighty Goddess. “I won’t let you down,” he said.

  Akori, Manu, Ebe and Sekhmet made their way back towards the courtyard.

  “I owe you my thanks too, small ones,” Sekhmet said to Manu and Ebe as they walked. “Each of you has played a warrior’s part today.”

  Manu also bowed, but Ebe just stared and stared. Akori couldn’t help but smile. She was in such awe of Sekhmet. It was as if the girl had met her lifelong hero!

  Akori threw open the door to the courtyard. His smile vanished. His breath caught in his throat. All he could do was stare in horror at what awaited them.

  Rank upon rank of Oba’s soldiers were lined up in scarab-drawn chariots, bearing the image of Set upon their shields. Dozens of spears and javelins were pointing right at Akori.

  Their leader raised his sword and shouted, “When I give the word, charge! Death to the traitor!”

  Akori reached for his khopesh and readied Sekhmet’s shield. He had never faced so many, but he would fight to the last drop of his blood. Even if this was the end, he would go down fighting beside his friends, and he would take some of Oba’s men down with him. He would make Horus proud.

  Then Sekhmet threw back her head and roared.

  The whole fortress shook. Cracks appeared in the ground. Pieces of the battlements broke off and fell with a crash. The first few ranks of soldiers went flying backwards through the air, blasted off their feet by the sheer force of the roar. Giant scarabs toppled and landed on their backs, crushing soldiers beneath them. They struggled helplessly to right themselves, but couldn’t. The soldiers were thrown into a mad panic. Their scarabs were breaking loose, fleeing the courtyard in fear. It was total chaos.

  Sekhmet drew a deep breath and prepared to roar again. With fearful cries, the soldiers fled, following their scarabs into the desert. Within moments the courtyard was empty.

  Akori, Manu and Ebe looked at each other in amazement. Akori had never seen such an incredible display of power. Slowly, they made their way out into the open desert. The sky was still a perfect blue and the sun as intense as ever.

  “It’s a shame those soldiers took their waterskins with them,” Manu sighed. “Couldn’t they have dropped one?”

  Ebe offered him some cactus pulp. Manu made a face.

  “Manu’s right,” Akori said. “Perhaps we should search this place for water. It’s a long, hot journey back to the Temple.”

  “I think I can help with that,” Sekhmet said with a smile. Her body started to shimmer and change. Next moment, a magnificent lioness stood before them.

  Akori was confused. How could Sekhmet help them find water, even in her animal form? He was not confused for long.

  “Climb on my back,” she rumbled, “and hold on tight! I’ll have you home in no time!”

  Akori, Manu and Ebe clung onto Sekhmet’s back as she raced across the valley. The fortress was soon far behind them and the huge expanse of the desert lay ahead. They moved so swiftly over the dunes it was like flying.

  As the wind streamed through Akori’s hair, he yelled for sheer joy, clinging tightly to Sekhmet’s golden fur. She sprinted across the desert in great leaping bounds. The mounds of sand they had struggled to cross went flashing past, out of sight in seconds.

  Akori had never felt so free, so alive. He felt a little sad when he finally saw the edge of the desert ahead.

  They gradually slowed to a halt and Sekhmet let them dismount. The Temple stood up ahead, with the sun setting behind it. Akori was amazed. They had travelled all the way to the Hidden Fortress and back, in one day! Manu and Ebe climbed down, unsteady on their feet and thrilled from the ride. “Can we do that again?” Manu burst out, and they all laughed.

  “I give you my thanks once more, Akori,” said Sekhmet. “Good luck on your final quest. I fear you will need it more than ever before.”

  The lioness turned and began to run across the sand, moving faster and faster until she became a blur that vanished into the distance.

  Ebe raised a hand in farewell, and to Akori’s surprise he saw that her eyes were filled with sorrow.

  The trio hurried through the Temple gateway, past priests who stared at them wide-eyed, amazed to see them return so soon. When they got to the great hall, Akori saw the High Priest anxiously pacing up and down.

  “We’re back!” he cried out to the old man. “We did it!”

  The High Priest threw his hands up in joy and beckoned them to join him. They all sat down at one of th
e long wooden tables and Akori and Manu began babbling excitedly about their adventure.

  “Slow down!” the High Priest pleaded. “I am an old man and my mind is enough of a muddle as it is! Akori, tell the tale a little at a time. You go at it like a starving lion devouring a meal. Manu, hold your peace until he is done.”

  So Akori told the story while the High Priest listened and nodded along. At the end, the High Priest reached out to feel the Shield of Sekhmet, running his fingers along its silver edge. “Once again, you have done exceptionally well,” he said softly. “But remember, you still have one God left to free.”

  Akori gripped his khopesh. “I know and I’m ready!”

  “You will have to be very careful, Akori,” the High Priest warned. “Horus is guarded by the most evil of all the Gods, Set himself. Even though you now possess the gifts of the Gods, remember it was Set who imprisoned them. He is more powerful, more cunning and more cruel than you can possibly know.”

  Akori nodded slowly. It was true that he’d never faced Set directly before. The dark God had powers he couldn’t even guess at. Set had overthrown many other Gods – in fact, the legends said he had even killed other Gods. Neither offerings nor prayers would turn his wrath aside, or so Manu had said. Set was like a violent windstorm, destroying everything in his path.

  Akori looked down at his khopesh, glinting gold in the firelight. The High Priest was right. He knew he could count on the good Gods in his final quest. But would even that be enough?

  The soldiers were gathered in the courtyard again. There were half as many as there had been before and the ones who remained were a sorry sight. Some limped on crutches, others kneeled in the sand to beg for Oba’s mercy. A few were so swaddled in bandages they looked like unfinished mummies.

  The war band’s captain, his voice trembling, was explaining to the Pharaoh Oba where the others had gone.

  A great many of them had run away. Some had been trampled by fleeing scarabs. Others were laid up in sickbeds, groaning. There was even a rumour going around that one soldier, awed by what he had seen, had stripped his armour off, put on a simple robe and declared himself a priest of Sekhmet, who would do only good deeds from that day onward.

  The scarabs themselves were not in very good shape either. None of them was hissing any more. Instead they quivered, as if they too were terrified.

  “Bukhu,” Oba said to his priest, “I am confused. This does not look like a victorious army to me.”

  “Indeed, My Pharaoh,” said Bukhu.

  “It looks more like something I would scrape off my sandal.”

  “Indeed, My Pharaoh,” repeated Bukhu.

  “In fact,” Oba said, his eyes blazing, “I would go so far as to say that this is a miserable, cowardly, worthless rabble.”

  “Alas, your words are filled with truth, My Pharaoh,” sighed Bukhu.

  “Do you also agree, then, that I should have my useless priest executed on the spot, for failing me yet again?”

  “Ah, now there I must protest, My Pharaoh,” Bukhu said with a sickly smile.

  Oba strode up to him and began to scream and shout in his face. Bukhu patiently endured it all.

  Without warning, a massive peal of thunder broke in the sky. Everyone looked up. The sky turned as dark as night. Oba fell into a fearful silence.

  The dark clouds formed themselves into an image of a beast-like face. It looked like an enraged, monstrous hybrid of a donkey and a wild boar. Seeing it, the soldiers screamed and begged for mercy. Oba and Bukhu threw themselves to the ground. Set himself had come for them!

  “Mortal fools!” Set roared, the sound of his voice like the fury of the storm. “You risk the loss of all I have won!”

  A fork of lightning ripped down from the sky, blackening the sand below. Oba wailed and tried to hide.

  “Pharaoh!” boomed the voice of Set, while thunder crashed. “The pretender to your throne must be stopped, once and for all.”

  “Yes, Lord Set!” sobbed Oba.

  “This time there can be no failure! The boy Akori must die!” The beastly head leered down. “Let him suffer the same fate as Osiris himself. Tear his body into fourteen pieces and scatter them across the length and breadth of Egypt, never to be found nor buried again. Only then will I be satisfied!”

  The battle to end all battles has begun. Akori must fight Set, the dark Lord of Storms himself, and beat Oba, the evil Pharaoh, to claim his rightful throne. But can Egypt’s young hero finally win the crown?

  The thing was only a few paces away. Akori had never seen anything like it, even in Manu’s most ancient scrolls. It was skeletal, wearing the tattered remains of a robe, but the head where the eyes burned was like the horned skull of an antelope. Bony fingers clutched a huge wooden sickle with a sharp flint blade.

  The thing gave a ghastly shriek of victory. It raised the sickle, ready to hew Akori in half. Akori backed off along the passageway, his sword trembling in his hand. The skeletal thing cocked its head, as if it were amused by this game of cat and mouse. Then it flung its jaws open and a plume of fire came roaring out.

  ISBN 9781409521099

  EPUB ISBN 9781409554851

  KINDLE ISBN 9781409554868

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