by P. J. Hoover
I want to point something out. I’m not just some egotistical jerk who likes to order people around—even if they are only six inches tall and made of clay. I’d asked the shabtis not to fall on the ground when I spoke. I’d asked them not to threaten to take their own lives if the toilet didn’t get cleaned five seconds after I’d used it. But after years I’d finally come to the conclusion that they had to act this way; the spells written all over them bound them to me forever.
“Is Gil home?” I asked. He’d want to know about this Horemheb thing, too.
“He was,” Horus said. “But then he went out looking for you.” He squashed a beetle between his teeth, squirting the inside into his mouth and tossing the shell back onto the floor.
Gil was the only other immortal I knew of, because I was definitely not counting Horemheb. But unlike me, Gil got lucky and was eighteen forever. Gil lived here and pretended to be my brother and legal guardian, which kept Social Services away.
“I told him I was going to be late,” I said. I wasn’t sure why he thought he had to go out looking for me. I’d texted him and everything. “When will he be back?”
Horus scowled. “You think he told me?”
“Not really.” Horus and Gil tolerated each other at best. At worst, they fought over the best ways to protect me—not like I needed protecting.
I looked down at the shabtis. Those not cleaning up the beetle remains stood at attention under the coffee table. “Can you get me a soda?” My throat was parched.
Colonel Cody threw himself to the ground. “Nothing would give me more pleasure.” He snapped his fingers, and two shabtis I called Lieutenant Virgil and Lieutenant Leon ran off to the kitchen. They were painted solid blue and were almost always the ones who brought me drinks or snacks, like that was their specialty.
Since our town house was smaller than my tomb, the two shabtis were back in less than a minute. Lieutenant Virgil balanced a glass full of ice on his blue head, and Lieutenant Leon held a soda. They set the items on the coffee table and returned to their perch below.
“Back to Horemheb,” Horus said. “Tell me about the obelisk.”
“How did you hear—?”
Horus stopped me with a paw in the air. “Tut, seriously, do you think I’m an idiot? I’m a god. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“But it just happened like a half hour ago.”
Horus sighed. “The explosion stunk up the entire city. I can smell Set’s sulfurous stink from miles away.”
I’d smelled the sulfur, too, right after the obelisk blew up. I waited. I knew what was coming next.
“I told you Set was behind the obelisks,” Horus said. He crossed his front paws and looked at me with his eye. And I do mean eye. Set had ripped out his other one ages ago.
“Whatever,” I said. This wasn’t the time for I-told-you-so’s.
A low hiss came from Horus’s throat. “Not whatever, Tut. You need to start listening to me. If you’d believed me when I said the Cult of Set was behind the obelisks, this never would have happened.”
“Stop treating me like a child,” I said.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Horus said. “You’ve been acting like you’re fourteen for the last three millennia.”
I took a sip of my soda. “That’s because I am fourteen.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you grew up.”
“That’s not the point,” I said.
“And what is?” Horus said. “Horemheb? So he’s back. What makes you think you can kill him now? Didn’t you already try that once?”
“This time is going to be different. I feel it inside.” I tried to keep my scarab heart calm inside my chest. “So how can I kill an immortal?”
“You can’t,” Horus said. But he’d stopped moving his tail. Horus never stopped moving his tail. Not even when he slept.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.
“Nothing, Tut,” Horus said. But his tail still wasn’t moving.
“I know you’re lying. You stopped moving your tail and that’s what you always do when you lie.”
“I don’t lie,” Horus said.
“You did just the other day when you were talking to Gil. Remember? He asked you about the beetle shells under his pillow and you told him you had nothing to do with it.”
Horus started flicking his tail back and forth again. “That wasn’t a lie. The shabtis put them there.”
“You told them to.”
“That’s a technicality,” Horus said.
“Still, there is some way to kill an immortal, and you’re not telling me what it is,” I said.
“Why would I not tell you?” To Horus’s credit, his tail only stopped moving for a microsecond.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It seems to me that you’d want Horemheb gone as much as I do. He’s in allegiance with your sworn enemy. Getting rid of Horemheb would be a huge blow to the Cult of Set. Both of our problems could be gone.”
“I don’t have any problems.”
“Right. Set isn’t a problem.”
Horus said nothing.
“He’s a huge problem. You know it. He ripped your eye out. Or did you forget about that little incident?”
Horus’s ears flared back. “I did not forget about that little incident. Nor will I ever forget about how he killed my father. Ever.”
“Then tell me how to kill Horemheb,” I pleaded.
Horus bared his pointy teeth at me. “There is nothing to tell, Tut. And we’re done with this conversation.”
“Whatever.” I stormed out of the room. Horus was a big, fat, kitty liar. His non-answers had told me what I needed to know. There was a way to kill an immortal, and Horus knew what it was. And I was going to find out.
5
WHERE HOMEWORK IS LIKE A VIRUS
I tried to pretend things were normal the next day at school, but my life had taken a wrong turn down Crazy Street. All I could think about was Horemheb. And the obelisk exploding. And the secret I knew Horus was keeping from me.
“Can you work on our project today after school?” Henry said when he sat down next to me in World Cultures. He had a black shirt on that read, PLUTO: NEVER FORGET, and in addition to his notebook, he had ten different-colored Sharpies clenched in his fist.
Ugh, the project. That was just one more thing to add to my growing list of annoyances in life. Maybe it was time for me to drop out of school. Gil was the only reason I was here in the first place. He bet me I couldn’t go a week without asking the shabtis to wait on me, and sure enough, he was right. I’d failed miserably after two hours and ended up back in public school.
“I’m kind of busy today,” I said. Making friends wasn’t my top priority in life. Been there, done that. If someone wanted to be my friend, they could help me get revenge on Horemheb.
“Too bad, amigo,” Henry said as he arranged the Sharpies on his desk. “We need to get it done. Unless you want us to fail.”
If Henry flunked eighth grade it would only mean one more person who understood the tortures of repeating the same subjects time and time again.
“We’re not going to fail,” I said.
“Maybe you will fail,” Seth said from behind me. “You could be the oldest kid in eighth grade.” He snickered like he’d made a funny joke.
If only he knew.
Tia stomped up in her combat boots just then and sat down behind me, next to Seth. The chair on the other side of me was empty, but she completely ignored that.
“Who’s the oldest kid in eighth grade?” she asked.
“Tut,” Seth said. “But he’s also the shortest.”
I gritted my teeth and let the short comment slide.
Tia had on basically the same outfit as yesterday, except her shirt was lime green and the streak in her dark hair had magically changed to match. If it was possible, she had more jewelry on. In addition to the ankh pendant, she had a feather pendant and a circle pendant that looked an awful lot like a sun. All three were
Egyptian symbols. I was going to ask her about it when Henry opened his mouth.
“So, today after school?” Henry said.
“I guess,” I said, against my better judgment.
“What’s today after school?” Tia asked.
“We’re working on our project,” Henry said.
Tia punched Seth in the arm. “We should work on our project today, too.”
Which is how it worked out that at four o’clock that day I was sitting on the second floor of Martha Washington Public Library next to Henry with Tia and Seth across from us. By the time I dragged myself there, half our class was already deep into project research.
“I think we should do the creepy death box,” Henry said.
“It’s a funerary box,” I said.
“Funeral. Death. Same thing. What are you guys doing your project on?” Henry said.
Seth was picking dirt out from under his fingernails, and Tia was playing with the ends of the green streak in her hair. They didn’t have a notebook or a pencil between the two of them.
“What project?” Seth said.
“World Cultures, idiot,” Tia said. “Remember? We’re supposed to pick some object from the King Tut treasures and present to the class on it.”
“Oh, that,” Seth said. “We’re doing that kick-butt statue of Set, the most awesome god ever. It was either that or one of those ugly statues of the boy king.”
I let pass the way he emphasized boy king. Whoever came up with that title should be executed. I also let pass the ugly comment. But most awesome god ever?
“What do you know about Set?” I said. How was it that Seth, who didn’t know how the sun managed to come up each morning, knew who the god Set was?
“I know he destroyed anything that got in his way,” Seth said. “Unlike those other pansy gods who made flowers and stuff grow.”
My scarab heart begged for retaliation, but I held it in check. The last thing I needed was some vines or flowers sprouting in response. Even with my efforts, a bunch of roaches crawled out from under the bookshelves. Tia slammed her combat boot down on a nearby roach, leaving a giant smear of guts all over the tile.
“Maybe we should get some books,” Henry said, scooting his feet away from the guts. “Before they’re all gone.”
Anything to get away from Seth.
But Tia stood up before I had a chance to, yanking Seth along with her. “What’s the Dewey decimal number for King Tut?” she said.
“Nine-thirty-two point zero one four,” I said, failing miserably at keeping any pride out of my voice. The number of books written about me was beyond flattering.
“Got it.” She winked at me and then was gone.
I sat in stunned silence, watching her stroll away. I tried to imagine Seth wasn’t right there beside her, because it ruined the whole image.
“Come on, Tut,” Henry said, and then he was off, following them.
“I’ll save the table,” I called.
Henry gave me a thumbs-up. “Good plan.”
Five minutes later, all three came back empty-handed. Henry looked like his world was collapsing around him.
“Where are the books?” I said.
“They’re all gone.” Tia slumped into her chair and went back to fiddling with her jewelry.
“All the books are gone?” I said. There were so many. It wasn’t possible.
“Yep. Every single one,” Tia said.
Henry put his head between his hands. “We’re gonna fail.”
“What about the Internet?” I said.
“No Internet. Don’t you remember?”
I shook my head. I guess I’d missed that part of the project explanation.
“Let’s just go steal a book from someone,” Seth said.
“We’re not stealing a book,” Tia said.
Seth pointed to Joe Hurd at the table next to us. Between him and his project partner, Brandon Knauss, they had six books on King Tut stacked up.
“There’s no way they need all those books,” Seth said, loud enough for Joe and Brandon to hear.
Joe opened his mouth like he was going to snap out some witty reply, but his face turned a sort of funny gray color and his eyes got all watery. He jumped to his feet and covered his mouth and ran.
“That was weird,” Tia said.
The King Tut book Joe had been looking at lay open on the table. Brandon reached out to pull it over to himself, but Seth was faster.
“We’ll look at it while he’s gone.” But no sooner had Seth grabbed the book than he dropped it on the linoleum floor like it burned him, making a loud boom that echoed around the entire library.
Dust lifted up from the book. At least, I thought it was dust until I noticed that it was black and swirling around in circles and smelled like sulfur. But before this had time to register, Brandon threw up all over the floor and the book.
We jumped up from our table to get out of the way.
“It’s the curse of King Tut,” Henry said, grabbing his notebook like he was going to record the whole incident in purple Sharpie.
“It’s not the curse of King Tut. It’s probably food poisoning,” I said. The curse had no interest in the public library. It had bigger things to worry about. Things like Set and Osiris and battles for immortal dominance. I looked back to the book. Whatever black stuff I’d seen there was gone. And the only smell remaining was the contents of Brandon’s stomach.
“You saw what happened. He was reading the King Tut book and then he threw up,” Seth said.
I couldn’t believe Seth was actually agreeing with Henry.
“And what about all these bugs?” Tia stomped on another roach. Her jewelry clinked together like musical instruments.
Wait, she thought it was the curse also? This was the problem with propaganda. It spread faster than a sandstorm and it never went away.
“What about them?” I said. “There are bugs everywhere.”
“They’re part of the curse,” Seth said.
“There is no curse,” I said.
“Right,” Seth said. “And mythology isn’t real, either, is it?” He acted like he’d said something clever and waited for my response.
What did he think I was going to say? That mythology was real? That all the Egyptian gods were among us, even if we had no clue where most of them were? Sure, I knew where Horus was, seeing as how he lived with me, but otherwise, I hadn’t seen a god in the last century.
“Of course it’s not,” I said.
Given the mess on the floor, librarians started clearing us out. I texted Gil to come pick me up. His reply came fast.
already waiting out front he texted, like he’d known something was wrong. He must’ve talked to Horus. I could imagine the lecture I was going to get.
can you meet me in back? I texted back. I knew the reaction he’d get from Henry, Seth, and Tia, and I wanted to avoid it.
No response. I hoped that meant yes.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow,” I said, heading toward the back door.
Henry looked at me like I was speaking ancient Greek. “What about our project?”
“What about it?” I said. “The library is closing.”
“When are we going to work on it?” Henry said.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Soon?”
His face kind of relaxed. “Okay, see you soon.”
Which was not what I said at all.
* * *
Gil leaned against his black Mercedes, reading something off a scrap of paper. Like normal, he was decked out from head to toe in black. Black jeans. Black leather coat. Black hair. I’d never asked, but I bet he wore black boxers just to complete the look. He had a couple of scratches on his face, because Gil picked more fights than an alley cat.
“Why were you already here?” I asked when I reached the car.
Gil crumpled up the paper he was holding and dropped it to the pavement. It burst into flames. That’s another thing about Gil. He got his powers from N
ergal, a Sumerian god who had command of war and the sun in all of its destructive glory. Gil could do all sorts of cool things, like throw fireballs and melt metal. Me? I had roses and earthworms.
“What happened when you were recharging?” Gil asked the second the car doors shut.
“Where’d you go last night?” I countered. I’d still been awake when Gil got home, but I’d pretended to be asleep so I wouldn’t have to hear his lecture. My conversation with Horus was bad enough. I heard them arguing down in the family room, and decided staying in my room was a good idea. And then I’d heard Gil storm out of the town house.
“I talked to Horus.” Gil blew his horn and pulled out into rush-hour traffic. “I’m sure you heard. I haven’t seen Horus that agitated in years, and that’s saying something. After that I went out to check the obelisk.”
“Did you see the name on the base of it?” Just thinking about it made shivers run up my spine. Revenge was going to be mine.
“Horemheb,” Gil said. “Horus told me, but I thought maybe it was some kind of joke.”
“Would I ever joke about Horemheb?” There were lots of things I’d joke around about, but revenge was not one of them. Gil knew how important it was to me. If anyone understood, he did. Just like my family had been killed, Gil’s best friend had been killed. It was what bound us together thousands of years ago. Gil had met up with me not long after I’d escaped from my tomb. He told me the gods had sent him to protect me. Yeah, after the whole tomb fiasco, I wasn’t too crazy about any mandate from the gods. Not to mention I didn’t need protecting. So I’d ditched Gil first chance I got, leaving Egypt and heading to China.
Gil had followed. He found me stacking rocks, helping build the Great Wall of China. So I left again.
I’d tried everything: changed my appearance, hid among the people. But something changed along the way. It took centuries before I realized it. I was still hiding from Gil, but I expected him to find me. I wanted him to find me. It became a game. Until the time back in Greece when our immortality had almost been discovered. We’d had to flee, and while we were trying to escape, some kid got killed because of us. We never talked about it after it happened, but the games and the hiding stopped. And from then on, Gil and I roamed the world together, settling down wherever we wanted and living our immortal lives.