Bab took a breath to calm his thundering heart. “Andica,” he said, “let us help you. We can find a way to make you happy without destroying everyone in the world.”
The Unpharaoh scoffed. “My plan goes even further than that, you false Pharaoh.”
Bab frowned. “Further than destroying everyone in the world?”
“Follow me and you shall see.”
She turned and smashed the doors of the Egyptian Museum to splinters with her thorny fists. Four hairy tentacles extended from her. They wrapped around Bab, Prong, Scaler and the Prof, yanking them all down to earth.
“Elephant Mummies!” the Unpharaoh hollered. “Guard the entrances until we return. I intend to enjoy this work, and do not wish to be disturbed.”
Trumpeting their agreement, all the Elephant Mummies galloped over and arranged themselves around the reddish-pink building.
And so, with the museum surrounded by living mummies, the Unpharaoh swept inside to visit the dead ones.
The Unpharaoh led Bab and his gang into the Egyptian Museum, leading them along with the hairy tentacles. Cainus had no choice but to come along too, dragged by the chin.
“Don’t worry,” Prong assured the street cats and dogs as they passed by. “Bab will fix everything.”
The Egyptian Museum’s halls were bursting with ancient artefacts. Statues, sarcophagi, trinkets and treasures took up every conceivable space beneath the old columns and arches. All the visitors had long since run away, leaving the old building oddly quiet.
One of the staff was still here, though.
A bald, round little man stormed up to the Unpharaoh. “How dare you attack our museum, you hairy hooligan!” he snapped.
Bab and Prof Sharkey recognised the man as one of the museum curators. “Careful, Zahi,” Bab warned him. “Best let her pass for now.”
“Never,” Zahi snapped. “I will defend the priceless treasures of this museum until my dying breath!”
“Then do so,” croaked the Unpharaoh. She clamped her spiky hands around a statue of the Pharaoh Khafra and ripped its stone head clean off. “Never could stand Khafra, you know. Always prancing about the Afterworld, boasting about the size of his pyramid.”
She opened her vast, hairy mouth and . . .
Chhromf!
She chewed Khafra’s stone head into gravel with her horn-fangs.
Chhromf, Chhromf, Chhromf!
The Unpharaoh turned back to Zahi, who was now sweating in terror. “Now,” she said, “I wonder what your head tastes like?”
Zahi bolted. “I have decided not to defend the priceless treasures of this museum!” he declared as he fled.
The Unpharaoh shrugged. “Now, Cainus, where are they?”
“This way, Your Toothiness,” Cainus said, and padded off down a hallway.
As they moved through the museum, the Unpharaoh griped about the ancient exhibits. “Look at these newfangled, modern knick-knacks,” she complained, picking up a two thousand year old statuette. “I wouldn’t have allowed a ushabti to be made this badly, back in my day. More like u-shabby!”
The more artefacts she examined, the more agitated she became. “So many statues . . . paintings . . . so many great kings and queens . . .”
She stopped and whirled around. “Why am I not in the museum?” she demanded of Cainus.
He quailed before her horrid stare. “A simple oversight, I imagine, Your Majesty. Or perhaps they’ve put aside a special room, just for statues and paintings of you, and they only open it once a year. On your birthday. That’s it, you have a birthday room!”
Prof Sharkey interrupted. “I’m sorry, Andica. I have watched the ways of the world these four thousand years. There’s a very good reason there are no statues or paintings of you.”
A terrible silence fell as the Unpharaoh waited for the Prof’s explanation.
Bab’s mum cleared her throat. “The truth is,” she said gently, “no one liked you enough to want to remember you.”
A heartbroken wail filled the room. At first Bab thought it was the Unpharaoh, but it was her chief jackal.
“Aw-ooooo!” howled Cainus. “The hur-hur-hur-hurrrt! I’m not sure I can bear it!”
“Silence, you yowling coward!” snapped his mistress. “If the truth doesn’t hurt me, then it needn’t hurt you.”
Cainus blinked at her through his tears. “But . . . but that pain rushed into me through my Beard,” he blubbered. “That’s your pain, Your Majesty, not mine. It happens sometimes when you grow very focused. Your feelings come pouring down the Beard hairs and into my chin.”
Bab could swear he saw the hairy lower lip of the Unpharaoh tremble for a moment.
“Nonsense,” said the prickly head. “What do I care for the opinions of those beneath me? Lead on, Cainus! I look forward to giving the people of this world something to remember me by.”
It won’t be a fond memory, thought Bab with a shiver.
“Hey, dude,” Scaler whispered to Bab, “why is Lady Furball bringing us along for this tour anyway? Why not just zap us all with a nosebolt?”
“She’s showing off,” said Bab. “She said she wants me to watch as she destroys my world.”
“Ah. Gotcha.”
The jackal led them into a room of mummified animals. There were gazelles, lizards, sheep, baboons, all displayed in glass cases.
Scaler peered at a lumpy fish mummy and tapped on the glass. “Hey, bro,” she said, “hope you’re partying in the Afterworld.”
Prong’s eyes boggled at several ibis mummies encased in painted coffins. “I never knew I had relatives in Cairo,” she honked. “They’re much littler than my side of the family!”
“Regular animal mummies are smaller than you Mumphis ones,” Bab explained. “The Smoothie of Immortality must have made you guys big and strong.”
“Funny you should mention that magic drink, boy,” the Unpharaoh butted in. “I trust you prepared the recipe as ordered, Cainus?”
Cainus plucked a pot from his striped headscarf. “Of course, Your Majesty. The classic mix: natron, resin and lollipops.”
He gave the pot a shake and Bab heard liquid sloshing about inside.
“Time for the final ingredient, then,” she announced.
Cainus popped the lid off his pot. The Unpharaoh grasped her own head and plucked out a thick, thorny hair.
“Wait,” said Bab. “What are you doing?”
The Unpharaoh dropped the hair into the pot. Cainus popped the lid back on and shook the mixture, a toothy grin spreading along his pointy snout.
“If you want people to remember you, Unpharaoh,” Bab said quickly, “I’m not sure this is the way.”
The Unpharaoh ignored him. She sent spiky tentacles out of her hairy head, each one tipped with a nasty horn.
PSSH! PSSH! PSSH!
The Beard Tentacles smashed the display cases, showering the room with glass.
“Now, feed those mummies,” the Unpharaoh ordered.
Cainus leaped into action, pouring the contents of the pot into the mouths of the animal mummies. It came out as a grey, gritty mixture. Some of the mummies were held in wooden sarcophagi, which Cainus pried open with his teeth.
“May I have some, please?” asked Prong. “It looks delicious!”
Bab dived at Cainus, trying to wrestle the pot from his grasp. But the Unpharaoh’s spiky tentacle tightened around Bab’s waist and pinned him against the wall.
“Don’t do this!” he yelled. The Unpharaoh’s prickles burned against his skin.
But it was too late. The mummified animals began to shift. The cats stood up on their ancient legs. The lizards shuffled out of their cases. A baboon scampered around and a crocodile snapped its jaws.
They were no longer animal mummies. They’d become Animal Mummies.
Something even more dreadful was happening. Each Animal Mummy was expanding, its bandages creaking as it grew to twice its original size.
“Told you the magic mummies were bigger,” Bab muttered.
“I think it might be burgermuff time,” Bab whispered to Scaler and Prong. They quietly blocked their ears with the dustburgers.
“Animal Mummies!” barked the Unpharaoh. The newly created beasts stood to attention. “You are finally free. Free to serve me, your new Pharaoh. Now go out of this museum and sniff out as many animal mummies as you can find. They are stored in museums all over the world, and I want plenty of prickly slaves to build my new empire.”
Growling and bleating in gravelly voices, the Prickle Mummies darted from the room.
The Unpharaoh released Bab from the tentacle. He fell to the floor, clutching his wounds. His mum rushed over and wrapped her arms around him.
“So that’s the rest of your plan, Unpharaoh?” Bab panted, catching his breath. “Adding some spiky mummies into the mix?”
“Oh, it gets even better than that,” she said. “But I’m pleased you’re so interested. Come, Cainus! Take us to the final stop on this wonderful guided tour.”
Cainus led the group to another room. “Here they are, Your Majesty,” he said. “Some of them, at least.”
The room contained the mummies of Pharaohs, princes and queens.
What’s she up to now? Bab wondered.
The Pharaohs were on display in glass cases. The mummies were black and brown, their wrappings dry and brittle-looking. Ancient skin stretched tight over the bones of their faces. Amazingly, a couple even had decent teeth.
Don’t tell me she means to bring all these royal mummies to life.
The Unpharaoh floated about the room, pointing at each Pharaoh in turn. “Merneptah. Never liked his attitude. Ahmose-Inhapy. What a sad sack! Who’s this one? Ah yes, Ramesses the Second. Pee-eww, even mintier breath than Ramesses the First. And lookie here, it’s Tutankhamen! Spoilt little brat.”
“It sounds like you made a lot of friends in the Afterworld, Andica,” said Prof Sharkey, trying to sound cheery. “If you like, I can show you how to make the most scrumptious cup of tea. And when you pop back there, you’ll be a right royal hit!”
She gave the Unpharaoh her most winning crooked grin.
The Unpharaoh glared at her sister. “As always, Shoshan, my ideas are better than yours.”
Bab raised his hands. “Please, Unpharaoh. If you’re thinking of bringing these Pharaohs back to life as your slaves . . .”
“Haccch! How little you understand, boy. Bringing them to life is the last thing I want to do.”
She raised a prickly finger to her nostril.
WUMP!
She blasted a fireball straight at the glass case that held Ramesses the Second. It smashed in a deafening shower of shards and the mummy exploded into flames.
Bab and Prof Sharkey covered their faces, but Scaler and Prong were too shocked to move and ended up studded with bits of broken glass.
“How satisfying,” the Unpharaoh said. She gave a ghastly groan that Bab thought might be a sigh of relief. “No more minty breath in the Afterworld.”
WOMP!
She fired a blast at Ahmose-Inhapy. The ancient queen’s mummy erupted in orange flame. “So long, sad sack,” croaked the prickly sorceress.
“Stop this!” Bab shouted. “You may not think so, but these mummies are great treasures. What’s the point of burning them?”
“It is not only the people of this world I shall destroy, Bab Sharkey. I want the Afterworld to myself too. Why should I share it with a pack of partying princes and faffing Pharaohs?”
“Of course,” said Prof Sharkey in a horrified voice. “The akh is linked to the mummy. You destroy the mummy, you destroy its spirit in the Afterworld.”
“What!?” spat Bab. “You mean you’re obliterating the spirits of the Pharaohs by burning their mummies?”
The Unpharaoh gurgled hairily. “And that is only the beginning. I shall track down and burn every mummy that remains on earth, leaving the Afterworld empty. It will make the perfect holiday home when I desire a break from the Real World. Why have only one empty world to myself when two is twice the fun?”
Again, the Unpharaoh blocked a nostril.
“Beard, shove a cotton bud up her nose!” shouted Bab.
Fuppa-foop!
His Cotton Beard snaked forwards and plugged the Unpharaoh’s open nostril. Her scarlet eyes widened in rage. She released her nostril to clutch at the Cotton Beard, trying to pull it out.
Bab concentrated, pushing hard. The end of his beard emerged from the Unpharaoh’s other nostril. She went cross-eyed and gave a mighty sneeze.
WUMP!
A sneezy spray of fire jets and electric sparks tore through the cotton plugs as if they were nothing. The hot spray shot around the room in a spiral of orange and blue. Part of it blasted Merneptah, wiping his spirit from the Afterworld forever. Bab shielded his eyes as glass sprayed everywhere and the mummy erupted in blinding fire.
Foop! went the Cotton Beard, retracting onto Bab’s chin. He roared in frustration, casting his eyes around the burning room.
They were completely surrounded by flames.
How do we get out of this burning circle? Bab wondered. Every time I use the Cotton Beard, the Unpharaoh puts a stop to it.
But his mum seemed to have an idea. “Andica,” she said. “Don’t you wish you and I could go back?”
The Unpharaoh shot a sharp look at her sister. “Back? Back where?”
“To when you and I were little. Before the jealousy. Before the purple magic. Remember how easy things were before you had to be in charge? We used to play in the papyrus garden together, just two little girls making up stories. Singing and painting and dancing.”
“How could we possibly go back there?” asked the Unpharaoh quietly.
“By simply letting go. Forget about being the best, Andica. You have a family here, you know – I’m your sister and Bab is your nephew. And Scaler and Prong, well, if you forget about turning them into your slaves, they make the best friends in the whole world.”
“They sure do,” said Bab.
“You see, Andica,” the Prof continued, “the key to happiness is not to be the best, or the only person left. Look around you. What makes everyone else happy? Happiness is about joining in with others, not ruling over them.”
“Mum’s right,” Bab added. “It’s easy, too. If you just join in alongside everyone instead of fighting them, we can all live happily together.”
Prong wiped her eye with a wing, sniffing. “What a touching scene,” she honked. “Please join us, Unpharaoh. I’ll even make you an honorary Cotton Beard auntie!”
The Unpharaoh shuffled right up to Prof Sharkey and stared into her eyes. “I would love to join you, sister.”
The Prof beamed. “You would?”
“But I cannot.”
“Ah.” The Prof’s face fell and her wiry hair flopped.
“Your memory of our days in the papyrus garden is different to mine, Shoshan. For me, that time was bleak and miserable. Every time I succeeded, someone else would push in front. You, most of the time! You, always picking up praise from our mother and father. You . . .”
“But I always loved you, Andica,” said the Prof.
“Really?” said the Unpharaoh. “Did you, really?”
“Of course I did!”
The two fell silent for a moment. All Bab could hear was the crackling of the spreading flames. Their heat was becoming very uncomfortable.
Prof Sharkey swallowed. “No,” she admitted. “You are right, Andica, and I cannot lie to you. I did try, but you made it impossible to love you.”
“There it is. That is what drove me to visit the magician. To learn purple magic and become the Pharaoh of Egypt. It was bad enough how our mother and father felt about me. But knowing that you, my twin sister, despised me . . .”
Scaler clamped her bur
germuffs over her ears and groaned. “I don’t wanna hear your hard luck story, lady,” she said.
The Unpharaoh frowned at the Fish Mummy’s burgermuffs. “Ah! So that is why you and the bird have not been following my orders. Dustburgers! I must admit, I’m impressed.”
Scaler shrugged at her. “Can’t hear a word, honey.”
Cainus harrumphed. “You will listen to my mistress!” he said haughtily. “Besides, those earmuffs are a fashion disaster.”
He jumped on Scaler’s burgermuffs, munching them up and swallowing the lot.
Tears streamed down the Prof’s face. “I’m sorry, Andica,” she wept. “I’m truly sorry. And I am sorry for the world too, for I cannot convince you to join us in it peacefully.”
I know what that means, Bab realised. We have to fight.
Bab looked desperately around for something to fight with.
Among the burning relics, he spotted the new Smoothie of Immortality. Cainus, now busy chewing up Prong’s burgermuffs, had discarded the pot just nearby. Could it be of use somehow? Bab picked it up.
Shaking off Cainus, Prong flapped over and hugged the Prof. “Don’t be sad, flesh-mum. You did a terrific job as a twin sister! Except for the not-loving-her bit, that’s all.” The sweet ibis planted a big kiss on the Prof’s cheek.
As soon as she did so, Prof Sharkey’s hair sprang up in coils. Her posture became more alert and her dim eyes glowed with sharp intelligence.
“Mum?” said Bab. “Are you okay?”
Bab was starting to feel dizzy from the heat, and smoke was cooking his lungs.
“My brain!” cried Prof Sharkey. “Don’t move, Prong.”
“I don’t intend to move ever again!” Prong honked. She was blissed out, hugging Bab’s mum as they pressed their heads together.
“It seems the chunk doesn’t need to be attached,” the Prof said with a grin. “Just close by!”
The Unpharaoh scoffed. “What are you on about, you prattling twit?”
The Prickly Battle Page 6