His friends whipped the burgermuffs over their ears, just in time to block out the sound of the Unpharaoh’s command: “Follow me. And if anyone tries to stop us, destroy them!”
Bab could do nothing but watch as the Unpharaoh Beard drifted along the street, leading her parade of Animal Mummies towards the heart of Cairo. He slumped helplessly in a doorway, trying not to weep as his townsfolk marched past him.
Each Animal Mummy met his gaze as they marched, looking for hope in Bab’s eyes but finding none. Bab would never forget those ancient, desperate faces.
After the Animal Mummies had disappeared from sight, Bab felt a tap on his shoulder. Someone had popped out of the doorway and was leaning over to greet him.
“Cheer up, Babby-Boo,” said Prof Sharkey, showing him an ancient pot. “Look what I found.”
“Mum!” Bab cried. “You’re okay!”
“Yes,” Prof Sharkey assured him chirpily, “and it turns out my prickly sister was listening to my thoughts after all. We shall have to do something about her, shan’t we? Otherwise I won’t be okay, and neither will anybody else.”
Prong whipped off her burgermuffs and flapped over. “Hello, flesh-mum!” she honked.
“Heya, Shoshan,” said Scaler. “Sorry to see you ditched your camel face.”
“You look quite scary now,” added Prong.
Prof Sharkey chuckled. “The most extraordinary thing happened,” she told them all. “I was just driving away from the dig site, and all of a sudden I looked in the rear-view mirror and there it was. Your lovely animal city! Of course I couldn’t resist popping in for a stickybeak, although it wasn’t quite so lovely up close. Enraged cactuses everywhere.”
“Mumphis reappeared when I got this beard,” Bab explained. “I guess you could see it too because you wore the Pharaoh’s Beard yourself quite recently. Its magic put you in touch with Mumphis.”
“I suppose so, Bab,” said the Prof. “But that fluffy tuft doesn’t look like the Pharaoh’s Beard to me.”
“There’s a good reason for that,” Bab explained. “It isn’t the Pharaoh’s Beard, except for a few hairs. It’s a Cotton Beard that Prong grew.”
Prong pointed a wing at the pot that Prof Sharkey was carrying. “Thank you for saving my favourite pot from Mumphis,” she honked. “That’s almost as lucky as my cotton plant pot.”
The faded pot was blue and yellow, and shaped like a cat’s head.
“It’s a beauty, Prong,” said the Prof. Her wiry hair was practically dancing with glee. “As soon as Mumphis appeared, I felt strangely drawn towards a certain place inside the city. I hurried straight there, dodging those cranky cactuses, and spotted this pot. It was sitting on a funny little nursery cart in the town square.”
“Prong’s Plants,” declared Prong with pride.
Scaler chewed at the hook in her lip. “What’s so hot about that pot?” she asked flatly.
“This is the hottest pot of the lot,” the Prof said, beaming. “It’s the pot I’ve been searching for all these centuries. This is it, Bab!”
Bab gently took the pot and studied it in disbelief. “You don’t mean–”
“I do mean,” the Prof interrupted. “It’s the very pot Andica used to store my missing chunk of brain! She showed it to me at the time, four thousand years ago, to tease me. I’m not likely to forget it, it looks like such a cute little cat.”
Bab thought he might faint. “So . . . what was inside it, Mum? Was the mummified piece of brain still in there?”
The Prof blinked at Bab from behind her crooked glasses. “Do you know, I grew so excited I quite forgot to look inside. How very vague of me.”
Scaler patted the Prof’s shoulder with a gazelle hoof. “You are missing a chunk of brain, after all,” she pointed out.
The Prof took the pot back from Bab. The cat’s ears formed a wobbly lid, which she popped open. But as she peered inside, her face fell. “Oh my stars,” she said. “It’s empty.”
It was Prong’s turn to grab the pot. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, flesh-mum,” she honked, “but this is no brain chunk pot. This is my potato pot.”
Bab fixed his eyes on Prong. “Prong? What do you mean, ‘potato pot’?”
Prong strutted proudly back and forth, tapping the pot. “Exactly what I say. This is a pot for growing potatoes. Well, I managed to grow one potato in it. Little brown, wrinkly thing. As you know, I popped it inside my head to use as a brain.”
Bab felt as if a pyramid really had collapsed on him. “You mean your potato brain came out of this pot?!”
Prong grinned. “Yes, and I never managed to grow another. Been trying for about four thousand years. I just wish I could give all the Animal Mummies potato brains as good as mine. They wouldn’t be fighting each other and following Unpharaoh Beards if they all had vegetables for brains, you know.”
Bab stamped his feet. “Prong, I hate to tell you but you didn’t grow a potato in that pot. You found Mum’s mummified brain chunk in there. And you’ve kept it in your head ever since! No wonder you remind me of her sometimes.”
Prong honked in delight and wrapped her creaking wings around the Prof. “Oh, flesh-mum. I’m proud to call you my brain buddy!”
Blushing, the Prof patted Prong’s pink hat.
WUMP
WOMP
NEE-NAW, NEE-NAW, WEEA-WEEA-WEEA-WEE
In the distance, there were more explosions and sirens. Bab remembered they had a rampaging Unpharaoh to deal with – not to mention an army of Animal Mummies under her command.
“Will you join us, Mum?” he said. “We have the rest of your brain, and that means your magic might finally be powerful enough to fight your sister.”
A look of gentle sadness clouded the Prof’s face. “I’m afraid you’re right, Bab. Let us put a stop to her. For the last time.”
Through the baking heat, Bab led the way.
The streets of Cairo were usually tricky to navigate. But things were even trickier when everyone was trying to escape from a hairy Unpharaoh.
Bab picked his way along as best he could, following the screams and the fire.
“Oh dear,” said the Prof, “sounds like my sister’s causing rather a scene.”
They caught up to the Unpharaoh a few blocks ahead. “Careful,” Bab told his gang. “Let’s hide behind this bakery at the corner and see what she’s up to.”
What the Unpharaoh was up to was blasting fireballs and the occasional lightning bolt from her hairy nostrils, leaving devastation in her wake. Meanwhile, her Animal Mummy slaves did their best to break windows, yank down street signs and scare people away. They were doing a pretty good job, too, though Bab could tell they weren’t enjoying themselves.
Cainus, on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life. He snarled and snapped at anyone who crossed his path. That is, until some police in black uniforms rushed towards him – then he leaped behind his hairy mistress and cowered.
The police didn’t get far, though. The Unpharaoh blasted nostril flames into their path.
“Why don’t you all give up?” the Unpharaoh shrieked. “I am your Pharaoh! I have proven myself the smartest, the best!”
CHUKKA-CHUKKA-CHUKKA-CHUKKA!
A helicopter whirled overheard. Bab figured it must be an army helicopter, come to stop the attack.
The Unpharaoh peered up at it and narrowed her scarlet eyes. She had been hovering a little above the pavement, but now she reached down and pushed her prickly hands onto the ground.
“What’s she doing?” Bab whispered in horror.
The Unpharaoh used her hairy arms to jump. She sprang up amazingly high . . . and turned herself into a helicopter.
HOGGA-CHOGGA-HOGGA-CHOGGA, went the Beard Helicopter.
“Whoa,” breathed Bab. “The old Pharaoh’s Beard couldn’t fly at all.”
“It didn’t have the angry spirit of a sorceress inside it,” his mum pointed out.
The Beard Helicopter was dark and bristly, its
body spiked with vicious horns. On the front was the Unpharaoh’s furious face. Its propeller blades were hairy cobras, joined at the tail.
The Unpharaoh tilted herself forwards and raced straight at the army helicopter. It stood no chance against her Beard magic. With a sickening crunch, the Unpharaoh barged the chopper aside, sending it into a spin. It smashed down onto a house a few blocks away.
The Unpharaoh flew down again and hovered just above the rioting Animal Mummies.
“If this is how it must be,” the Unpharaoh announced from on high, “there is only one logical way forward. Cainus!”
From below, Cainus bowed. “Yes, Your Airworthiness?”
“I have been away too long and do not know this strange city. You explored it while searching for the Pharaoh’s Beard, did you not? You mentioned a great museum that contains the mummies of Pharaohs.”
“Hugely popular place,” said Cainus. “Just across the Nile. One can see all the different outfits Egyptians wore throughout history. Some wonderful fashions! I was especially wowed by those calf-length skirts from the days of the Middle Kingdom. Ooh, I wish I had one of those retro gems in my wardrobe.”
“I am not interested in skirts,” snapped the Unpharaoh.
“Of course not,” Cainus apologised. “I suppose a prickly helicopter doesn’t really need a calf-length skirt.”
“But I am interested in a show of power. Animal Mummies!”
The townsfolk of Mumphis froze and looked up at the Beard Helicopter, awaiting instructions.
Bab clicked his fingers at Prong and Scaler. They immediately clamped their burgermuffs on so they couldn’t hear the Unpharaoh.
“You will follow me to the museum,” ordered the sorceress. “It is some distance, so you Ibis Mummies will carry everyone by air. Relax and enjoy your flight!”
Back home in Mumphis, Ibis Mummies provided transport around town by flying in groups while carrying long stone planks, suspended beneath them by vines. Other Animal Mummies would sit on the planks and be carried from place to place. It was a service called an i-bus.
The Unpharaoh had been clever enough to foresee that i-buses might be needed for her invasion, so she’d forced the mummies to haul planks and vines with them to Cairo.
Now, magically forced to obey her, about two dozen Ibis Mummies took wing. They formed several small flocks and began ferrying their fellow Animal Mummies over the crowded buildings of Cairo. Larry the Moth Mummy did his bit by carrying a litter of Kitten Mummies on his back, though he looked very tired from being forced awake during the daytime.
The Unpharaoh led the formation in her helicopter form, buzzing towards the river.
“Dammit!” Bab cried.
“Sorry, did you say something?” said Scaler and Prong. Bab rolled his eyes and whisked the burgermuffs off their ears.
“I can’t think how to stop the Unpharaoh,” he said. “Not with this soft beard. What about you, Mum? Can you use your purple magic now that we have your brain chunk?”
“Oh, Bab, I don’t know,” the Prof moaned. “For one thing, how do we reattach the chunk to my brain? You’re very clever, Babby-Boo, but you aren’t a brain surgeon.”
“I am,” Prong declared. “I am a brain surgeon.”
“No you’re not, Prong,” Scaler told her. “You’re an ibis.”
“Oh.” She looked crestfallen.
“Hospitals!” Bab cried. “This is a huge city, Mum. We go to the nearest hospital and ask the surgeon to put your brain chunk in.”
“Even if we did that, Bab,” his mum reminded him, “the chunk was mummified centuries ago. It’s probably past its expiry date.”
“That’s true.” Bab’s shoulders slumped. “There’s only one way to stop the Unpharaoh taking over the world, then.”
The others looked at him expectantly.
“Talk her out of it.”
Prong couldn’t form an i-bus all on her own, but her bandaged wings were strong enough that she could carry three passengers. The Prof and Scaler took a talon each, while Bab held onto Scaler’s foot and his mum’s hand.
Bab’s hand felt cold from clutching Scaler’s icy ostrich ankle and he wobbled alarmingly as Prong flapped them through the steaming hot air. The Unpharaoh’s fireballs had made Cairo feel even more like a sauna than usual.
The Nile below was spectacular, a watery ribbon draped over the city. But Bab focused on the trouble just across the river – the Egyptian Museum. Flashes of light and puffs of flame exploded around it. He told Prong to fly them in.
The museum was a chunky, reddish-pink building with lovely gardens out the front, guarded by a small stone sphinx.
Bab’s mum had taken him here many times before, but today it was very different. The gardens were seething with Animal Mummies. Under the Unpharaoh’s orders, they tore out the trees and ripped up the grass. Crocodile Mummies were busy working on the ancient little sphinx, chipping away at its face to make it look like the Unpharaoh.
Meanwhile, the Unpharaoh herself had transformed back into a floating hairy head with prickly arms dangling off it. Tourists ran about, hollering in alarm as the Unpharaoh snorted lightning bolts at them. The museum was stained black with soot from her fireballs. Nearby, Bab saw overturned cars and a couple more crashed helicopters.
The Unpharaoh was so busy with destruction, she hadn’t noticed the arrival of Bab’s gang. Prong hovered above the scene and Bab scanned the chaos.
I have to try something, he thought.
“Beard,” said Bab, “turn into a fire blanket and smother those flames.”
Fuppa-foop!
The Cotton Beard extended from Bab’s chin. It fluffed out into a generous quilt and flopped down onto a burning section of the garden. Deprived of air, the fire was extinguished.
“Yes!” Bab cried. Even if the Cotton Beard couldn’t block the Unpharaoh’s ultra-fast missiles, at least it could put out a regular blaze.
“Good work, beard baby!” Prong honked.
The Beard Quilt flapped up and plonked itself on top of another spotfire, putting out the flames. It then moved on to douse a burning car.
“My beard baby is growing up to be a cotton firefighter,” declared Prong proudly.
However, the flapping cotton blanket caught the Unpharaoh’s eye. Her prickly head whipped around.
“Okay, Beard retract,” said Bab, and the Beard Quilt shrank back onto his chin. “She’s seen us, Prong. Might as well hover up in front of her so we can chat.”
The Ibis Mummy swooped in. Pressing a hairy finger to her nose, the Unpharaoh blasted a lightning bolt their way but Prong dodged aside. She flapped up to the Unpharaoh’s terrible spiky form – near, but not too near.
“Hey, Unpharaoh,” Bab said to the hairy head. “Say, did you forget your mop handle?”
The sorceress didn’t respond to Bab’s insult. She was focused on someone else. She gave a great shudder as her scarlet eyes fixed on Prof Sharkey.
“Shoshan,” she hissed. “At last you find the courage to confront me face to face. Face to new face, I see.”
“Your face is new too, Andica,” said the Prof. “It’s, er, very flattering, by the way.”
“Totally,” Scaler agreed flatly. “Which salon do you visit to get your face shampooed?”
The Unpharaoh sneered at Prof Sharkey. “You can try and hide, sister, but I will recognise you no matter which hideous face you choose.”
“You should have seen her as a camel,” honked Prong. “She looked so pretty!”
“We’re just here to talk, Unpharaoh,” Bab said. “I’m sure we can work this out so everybody leaves happy.”
Cainus trembled. He was clearly just as afraid of Bab as he was of his mistress, who was still attached to his chin. “Um, Your Prickliness,” he coughed. “They are a raggedy assortment, but it might be worth hearing what they have to say. Before you go on killing every person in the city, I mean.”
“Why should I pause the killing, Cainus?” she croaked. “I must be i
n charge.”
“It’s just that if you continue like this, there’ll be nobody left to be in charge of.”
“Precisely,” she cackled. “The people of today’s world have made it clear they will not acknowledge me as number one.”
“That’s the problem, Andica,” Bab said, “they’ll never acknowledge you. It doesn’t matter how much chaos you cause. So you might as well stop now.”
The Unpharaoh sucked in a rattling breath. “Your logic does not hold, Bab Sharkey. But mine does.”
Prof Sharkey scratched at her wiry hair. “What exactly is your logic, Andica?”
“It is clear and simple,” replied the Unpharaoh. “The only way to be the number one person in the world . . . is to be the only person in the world.”
Bab clenched his fists. “You mean to destroy every living being?” he said. “Except yourself?”
The Unpharaoh shook her prickly head. It made a rustling sound as the bristles brushed together. “Not every living being,” she replied. “Only the people. As you know, I’m terribly fond of animals. See there?”
She gestured to the museum. Its giant doors were closed to block out the invaders, but in front of the doors was an arched entryway. Inside the entryway huddled many street cats, dogs and rats, quivering. They had been herded in there by the Animal Mummies.
“Those animals will make the perfect slaves for later,” the Unpharaoh explained. “I shall be the last person on earth, and I shall mummify all the animals of the world so they obey my every command. This will become the planet of the Animal Mummies!”
Bab, Scaler, Prong and Prof Sharkey were speechless.
She’s gone completely bananas, Bab thought.
Cainus spoke up instead. “That does sound rather wonderful, Your Planet-y Majesty. Do I get to be in charge of all the Jackal Mummies?”
“Naturally, Cainus.”
He stuck his tongue out and panted, like an excited puppy waiting for a ball to be thrown.
The Prickly Battle Page 5