Storms and Scarabs

by H. R. Hobbs

  Winding up, he threw the olive. It hit the rim of the cup, causing it to teeter on the desk. Mitch held his breath, willing it to tip over. It seemed to take forever for the pot to slowly upend and crash to the floor. The olive, having bounced off the lip of the pot, landed on the floor and rolled under the cabinet.

  The crash of the pot broke Ammon’s attention on the bowl of smoke and light. When he looked over to the desk, the light collapsed on itself and disappeared. Ammon cursed under his breath and went to investigate. He looked at the pot and then around his office. Mitch tried to make himself as small as possible under the desk. Muttering to himself, Ammon found a cloth and cleaned up the puddle of ink.

  Huddled under the desk, Mitch willed himself not to move. Not to breathe.

  A guard appeared at the doorway, alerted by the noise.

  The guard said something to Ammon, who dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

  The mess cleaned up, Ammon picked up the book and the bowl and left the room.

  Mitch considered following him but thought better of it. His body was still shaking from what he’d witnessed and how close he’d come to being discovered.

  Waiting for Ammon to get back to his room, Mitch thought about what he’d learned tonight. The book was somehow connected to the spyglass. Mitch could only guess why Ammon wanted the spyglass, but he was sure of one thing—it wasn’t anything good. Mitch needed to find the scarab and get him and Brock back home before Ammon found out they had his great-grandpa’s spyglass.

  Figuring the coast was clear, Mitch crawled out from under the desk. With the little moonlight that seeped in through the sheer curtains covering the opening to the balcony, he hurried down the hall to his room. It was the only place that he felt safe.

  What are we going to do now? kept running through his mind.

  Ammon didn’t just have the power of being high priest. He seemed to have discovered some magical powers, too. This put their whole plan to get home in jeopardy. Ammon no doubt had the ability to get his hands on a scarab. And if he found out Mitch and Brock had the spyglass, it would be Ammon travelling through time to fulfill the Prophecy of Aten . . .

  . . . and Mitch and Brock stranded in Ancient Egypt for the rest of their lives.

  Mitch knew for certain now: he had to get his hands on that book.

  It was time for more homework.

  Chapter 24

  During their lesson the next day, Ammon seemed to be distracted. Which was just fine with Mitch. It gave him the chance to covertly study the high priest.

  When Mitch had arrived, Ammon was frantically looking for something on the shelves.

  “I’m here for my lesson,” Mitch had said to the priest’s back. Thinking Ammon hadn’t heard him in the flurry of papers and thudding of books, he repeated a little louder, “I’m here for my lesson.”

  “I heard you,” Ammon growled without turning around.

  No more Mr. Nice Guy, then. Like Ammon had ever been nice.

  Mitch stood for a moment and watched. “Can I help?”

  Finally, Ammon turned and glared at Mitch. “No, you cannot.”

  Mitch shrugged and went over to the desk he’d come to think of as his. He removed the stopper from the pot of ink and dipped in his reed. Not wanting to provoke the priest any further, he silently took the top paper off the new stack on his desk. It was hard to concentrate as Ammon searched through the material on the shelves.

  Some time had passed when Ammon finally threw up his hands in frustration.

  “No luck, eh?” Mitch commented.

  At Ammon’s fierce look, Mitch gulped and ducked his head back down to his papers.

  The priest paced from the shelves to his desk then back to the shelves. Finally, he stormed out. Mitch continued working, copying down the symbols he didn’t know in the hope that when Ammon returned, he could tell him the meanings. Mitch didn’t even try to figure out what they were on his own. Yesterday, Ammon had told him that the letter D was represented by a hand (how did that make sense?) and a reed leaf was the letter I. It was all still a bunch of gibberish to Mitch. None of the symbols were similar to English.

  Over an hour passed and Ammon still didn’t return. From the position of the sun, Mitch could tell the time for their lesson was over. Ammon would probably return in a fouler mood than he’d left. Not wanting to bear the brunt of his temper, Mitch cleaned up his desk and started back to his room.

  Deciding to do a little exploring along the way, Mitch turned down a corridor that he was sure he’d never been down before. No braziers burned. This part of the palace was thrown into shadow. But that didn’t bother him. By now, Mitch had become quite adept at skulking around in the shadows.

  He crept along the wall, hugging it as close as he could. It was so dark he couldn’t make out if there were any murals. He ran his hands along the wall for balance and nearly fell backward when the wall behind a hanging tapestry disappeared.

  A secret tunnel?!

  Mitch found a narrow corridor behind the hanging tapestry. There appeared to be a dimly glowing light at the end. With one last glance down the way he’d come, he ducked behind the tapestry and started down the corridor. It was narrow enough that he was able to run the tips of his fingers down both sides.

  When he got closer to the end, he could see that the corridor opened into a room. From the dim light he could make out an altar—similar to the one in the temple Jabari had taken him and Brock to. He stood for a moment and made sure there was no one inside before coming up to the front.

  On the altar were goblets and bowls made of gold. His breath caught at the sight of them. These had to be worth millions of dollars. For a moment, he imagined what he could do for Jabari and his family if he took even one piece. It would show his appreciation for all they had done to help him and Brock.

  Hypnotized by what he saw, he picked up one of the goblets sitting in the center. Mitch was stunned by the jewels inlaid in the gold. He slowly turned it around in awe. Placing it back exactly where he’d found it, he picked up another. This one had many different jewels. As he turned it, he nearly dropped it in surprise.

  Fastened to the back was a lapis lazuli scarab.

  He couldn’t believe his luck. This meant he and Brock could go home.

  He raised the glass and quietly cheered—but his excitement was short-lived.

  How was he going to get the scarab off the cup?

  He could just take the cup.

  No, that wouldn’t work. Someone would definitely notice if one of the cups were missing. Even if he and Brock could escape before anyone noticed, that would only lead to trouble for Jabari and his family. No way could he do that to Jabari and Rehema and Sara.

  The scarab had been facing the back of the altar—maybe he could pop it off the cup without anyone noticing in time?

  He looked for something sharp to pry it off, but there was nothing. He was going to have to leave it and come back later.

  He placed the cup back on the altar. His hand itched to snatch it back and run. Before he could do something that would blow up their plan, he left.

  Mitch couldn’t sit still the rest of the day. Brock and Jabari would be coming tomorrow for their weekly visit, and it couldn’t get here soon enough. Mitch was glad there were no clocks in Ancient Egypt. He would have been staring at it all day as the hours slowly ticked by.

  It took all the determination he had not to leave his room that night. He was afraid of being caught wandering the corridors of the palace. He couldn’t risk getting into trouble.

  Not now that they were so close.

  Brock and Jabari arrived just after breakfast the next day. Ammon escorted them to Mitch’s room. Ammon pulled Jabari aside while Mitch and Brock settled on the cushions out on the balcony. After a brief conversation, they joined the boys.

  An awkward silence followed. Mitch was afraid to talk for fear that he would blurt out his discovery of the scarab. They shifte
d uncomfortably on the cushion. Ammon stood silently for a moment and then turned and left.

  “What was that about?” Mitch asked Jabari.

  “Ammon was inquiring about the prince. I told him the preparations would be ready in time for the funeral celebration.”

  Mitch checked the doorway to the balcony.

  “Why are you acting so weird?” Brock asked.

  “I can’t take the chance that someone might overhear what I’m going to tell you.”

  “You found a scarab?” Brock asked hopefully.

  Mitch was too excited to care that Brock stole his thunder. “Yeah! How did you know?”

  “What else could it be? You’re here to find the scarab, and I’m sure you don’t want Ammon to know that.”

  “Well, the good news is that I found it.” Mitch watched smiles spread over Brock and Jabari’s faces. “The bad news is where I found it.”

  Jabari’s smile turned into a frown. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember when you took us to the temple?”

  Jabari nodded.

  “I found a room like that in the palace. There’s an altar inside with a goblet on it. The scarab is on the goblet.”

  “It’s a lapis lazuli scarab?” Brock asked.

  “Yes! Exactly like the one my great-grandpa used to get home.”

  “Excellent! Let’s go home!”

  Mitch shook his head. “The problem is, I have to figure out how to get it off the goblet. It might be a while before someone notices the stone is gone, but they’d know something is up if I take the whole goblet.”

  Jabari nodded in agreement.

  “By the time they notice it,” Brock argued, “we’ll be long gone.”

  “True. But they could go after Jabari and his family. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out we’re both gone. Then what?”

  Brock didn’t answer.

  “I’m going to take a knife and try to pry if off.”

  “Are you sure? What if someone catches you? Or notices that it’s gone?”

  “That’s why I think we need to make a plan. When is the funeral celebration for the prince?”

  “In two weeks’ time,” Jabari said.

  Brock looked confused. “What does the prince’s funeral have to do with us going home?”

  “We need the stone to be blessed. I’m thinking some, if not all of the items on the altar will be used for the funeral, so I can’t take it before then. But if we wait until the day of the funeral, you’ll be here, right?”

  “Yes, we will be part of the celebration,” Jabari answered.

  “What usually happens at the funeral?”

  “Ammon will perform the proper ceremony. Then they will parade the body to the pyramid. There the prince will be laid to rest.”

  “So . . . if Brock and I stay behind while everyone is on their way to the pyramid, we can take the scarab from the goblet and use it to get back home.”

  “That sound great!” Brock high-fived Mitch.

  “In the meantime, we have another problem.” Mitch took a deep breath. “Ammon knows about the spyglass, and he suspects that we have it. I snuck into his office the other night and saw him doing some scary-looking magic. He used some book that he got from a special room in the palace and conjured up the spyglass in this green, smoky light. It was freaky!”

  “You snuck into his office?” Brock asked incredulously. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I didn’t know what was going to happen when I went in there. In fact, I was looking for this book I saw him carrying from the night before and—”

  “Whoa.” Brock put his hand up to stop Mitch. “You’ve been sneaking around the palace at night? Following Ammon? Are you crazy?” His voice got louder and louder as he spoke.

  “Keep your voice down,” Mitch admonished. “I was looking for the scarab, actually. Discovering what Ammon was up to was just a bonus.”

  Jabari shook his head. “This is not good, Mitch.”

  Mitch sighed in exasperation. Did they not hear me say “magic”?!

  Jabari went on, “If Ammon discovers that you are spying on him, he could throw us all in prison. And believe me, there are no scarabs there—unless they are the living ones. You cannot be wandering around the palace at night.”

  “I know it’s dangerous, but if we’re going to get home, it has to be done. And I didn’t get caught.”

  “Yet,” Brock interjected.

  “Yet,” Mitch agreed. “But until the day of the funeral, we have to make sure that the spyglass is safe. Have you still got it hidden at Jabari’s?”

  “It will be safe until you need it,” Jabari confirmed. “No one will find it before the funeral.”

  “Why do you think Ammon wants the spyglass?” Brock asked.

  “When I found the mural with George in it, he said he’d been researching it for some time,” Mitch said. “I think the book he used to conjure up the image of the spyglass has something to do with travelling back and forth in time. I’m going to try and get my hands on the book.”

  “Oh, no you’re not!” Brock spit out. “You are going to go to your lessons and be the perfect student until the funeral.”

  “We need to find out what Ammon is up to, Brock! I’ve got a feeling that his reasons for using the spyglass aren’t good ones.”

  “Why would you think that?” Jabari asked.

  “What reason could a power-hungry high priest have for wanting to time travel?”

  Neither Jabari nor Brock had an answer to Mitch’s question. But they hadn’t made him promise to quit searching, which was good. Mitch couldn’t figure out why Ammon wanted to travel through time. He didn’t strike Mitch as an adventurer—more like someone who was looking for something or someone in particular. But what? Power? Ammon was already the second most powerful person in Egypt. Unless he wanted to be the most powerful . . . and in more than just Egypt. Maybe even more than just in this time.

  Maybe there was more to the story of the King of Necho.

  Great! he thought bitterly. Something else he needed to solve.

  Chapter 25

  With only two weeks until the funeral, Mitch was starting to worry whether or not their plan was going to work. He went to lessons every day—not because that was what Jabari and Brock wanted, but because that was the one time during the day that he could observe Ammon without raising his suspicions.

  Each day when he came for lessons, he scanned the shelves in Ammon’s office, looking for any answers to the mystery of the spyglass. Each day he left disappointed. The one good thing was that he was starting to master reading hieroglyphs. He’d created his own little dictionary that was still hidden in his desk.

  He hadn’t left his room for any late-night wanderings since Brock had gotten mad at him. Sure, Brock hadn’t made him promise he wouldn’t, but Mitch still felt bad doing something he knew would worry his friend. He had to take that chance now, though. He thought he knew enough that he could go back and visit the mural of his great-grandfather and get a better idea of what was written on the mural. It was time to hopefully get some answers.

  Working from the light of the brazier, Mitch sat on the balcony and went through the symbols in his dictionary as he waited for the palace to settle in for the night. He wasn’t sure if he had all the symbols he needed to decipher the mural, but it would have to do. He was hoping it would give him some idea of what happened to his great-grandpa while he was here. Which in turn would help him and Brock get home, just like George did.

  The city quieted and Mitch waited a while longer. When he hadn’t heard anything for some time, he put his dictionary away and crept down the corridor. Thanks to his many midnight journeys through the palace, Mitch was able to avoid the guards and get to his destination quickly.

  A shiver of fear ran up his spine as he remembered Ammon catching him here last time.

  The braziers provided enough light that Mitch was able to ma
ke out most of the mural. He ran his fingers over each symbol. According to the mural, what Ammon said was true. His great-grandpa had been a friend of Ammon’s grandfather, Amr.

  The next symbols puzzled Mitch, though. They said that George had lived in Egypt for over a year. But that couldn’t be right. According to what Hank had told them, his grandfather had appeared in The Hague only a few months after his ship had sunk.

  Did that mean that time didn’t move the same in the two places? Over a year in ancient times was a few months in his and Brock’s time? Did that mean that if he and Brock had only been in Ancient Egypt a couple of months, it would equal a few days or weeks in their time?

  The thought gave Mitch some relief. He could only imagine what his parents might have gone through if he and Brock had been missing for months and months.

  Unfortunately, there was no mention on the mural of the scarab or how his great-grandpa got home. Only that one day he was here and the next he was gone. Did this mean Ammon didn’t know the connection between the scarab and the spyglass? Mitch hoped so.

  Mitch scanned the mural again. In the lower righthand corner, he saw something he hadn’t seen before. Getting down on his hands and knees, he looked closer. The orange paint that covered most of the mural was starting to crumble. Mitch lifted a corner of the paint with his fingernail. A flake came off, revealing white paint underneath.

  Checking to make sure Ammon wasn’t going to sneak up on him again, he flicked off some more paint. It took only minutes to uncover a symbol beneath. The symbol wasn’t a letter or any symbol he’d seen on any cartouche. It reminded Mitch of an anchor. He wished he had a way to write it down. He traced the outline of the symbol in an attempt to commit it to memory.

  Mitch hustled back to his room, copied the symbol onto the pages of his dictionary, and crawled into bed.