Under Wraps: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Werewolves vs. Mummies Book 1) (4 page)

I smirked and shoved the khopesh into my sash. I had debated wiping it off first, but why bother? My clothes were covered in blood. What was a little more? I was just thankful Aziza had found me an enchanted tunic that didn’t rip into a million tiny pieces when I changed. That got old fifteen mummies ago.

“It’s okay. I’ll forgive you, just this one time.” I smiled at her, but I don’t think she saw. “But if you start making Star Wars references, we’re going to have a chat.”

“How nice,” she said and began walking away, kicking up little clouds of golden dust. Okay, I guess stomping away would have been more apt. “I’m so glad
you’re
cutting me some slack.”

“Um… okay.” I shrugged, catching up with her as we meandered down the road toward a distant spec in the distance. “So what’s the plan?”

“Same plan. Catch mummies, stop Khufu, get your friend’s soul back.”

“I know, but well, there are a lot of mummies.” I sighed. “Can’t we just go after Khufu now?”

“We are getting to Khufu. Sure, we’ve taken out a couple random ones here or there, but we’re working up the chain until we get to Khufu. Part of it is that I’m trying to get you used to fighting them because most of the really strong mummies will be with Khufu. If you tried to fight him now, well let’s just say you’d lose.” She glanced at me, and when she noticed the khopesh, the faintest hint of amusement filled her eyes. “Do you know how to use that?”

“Put the pointy end in the bad guy,” I replied, resisting the urge to change forms and show her just how tough I really was. “It’s not rocket science.”

“I’ll remember you said that. Now let’s go convince some priests they should help us.” She said it with a cheery lilt in her voice, but the look on her face was anything but happy. Awesome.

Chapter 5

The seminary, for lack of a better term, was huge. It was huge. Like how football stadiums were huge. Only, instead of lights and ads for soda and televisions, the walls were filled with paintings and hieroglyphics depicting Ra, and his fellow gods, fighting a huge black snake.

As we stepped between two sixty-foot-tall daffodil-yellow, stone statues of pharaohs, a chill ran down my back, despite it being over a hundred degrees inside. If the priests in the temple of Ra found out I knew someone who regularly spoke to Apep, the biggest, baddest, evilest god in the whole pantheon, I doubted they were going to help us. Then again, unless they could smell the serpent of chaos on me, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t figure it out.

Aziza strode toward the center of the room, ignoring the guards scattered around the room. It was like they were trying to let you know they were there, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice, but at the same time, tried to blend into the scenery so you forgot about them. It probably would have worked if they weren’t so scary looking. I mean where the staves
and
swords necessary?

A man so old he had to have been a thousand sat on a white marble throne raised several feet in the air. His hair was the color of that perfect snow that falls from the sky just as snowboard season started. It cascaded off his head and cheeks, falling all the way to the middle of his stomach. Part of me wasn’t sure if he had a beard or if all of it was from the top of his head. A golden staircase glittered in front of him and upon each step sat several other priests, though surprisingly, the bottom stairs held the most decorated-looking priests. Was it some kind of ranking system? Did they give up their riches as they moved up?

“Oh great and wise High Priest of Ra, we have a most urgent and important question to lay before you. Please bless us with your bountiful wisdom.” Aziza smiled at the old bat on the top step, and for a moment, I wished she would smile like that at me. It was enough to make my throat close up and my heart flutter.

“How, exactly, did you get in here, mummy?” asked a priest on the lowest step. His wrinkled face twisted into a sneer as he lifted one jewel-encrusted hand and pointed his wobbly finger at Aziza.

Aziza looked like she would punch him in his stupid face for a second. Instead, she shut her eyes and visibly calmed herself. “I have been tasked by Osiris himself to keep charge over the vilest mummies from Ancient Egypt—”

“Well, you failed that task,” the priest said, interrupting her in mid-sentence. “Now you seek for us to help? Are we to do your job for you, girl?”

“Um… no. But it’d be nice if you guys, you know, helped,” I said, and when I spoke both him and Aziza gave me the ‘go play by yourself in the corner and let the grownups talk’ look. It pissed me off. It was the same look my Alpha always gave me when I offered up suggestions during pack meetings.

I gritted my teeth and looked up toward the old priest at the top. He was watching us, blue eyes filled with interest. Not the ‘I will help you’ interest, though. It was the ‘oh this is way more interesting than what’s normally on daytime television’ interested. Which, while better than indifference or outright loathing, wasn’t exactly helpful. Why? It meant that he’d probably let his priest badmouth Aziza because he found it entertaining.

“Yes, we seek your assistance, oh wise priests. We have learned Khufu intends to take possession of the Staff of Ra. In fact, he is on his way to the lost city right now. We would like you to aid us in stopping him.” Aziza smiled at the bedazzled priest and batted her eyes.

He ignored her, glancing up the steps toward the old guy at the top. The old guy shrugged. The priest turned back to Aziza. “What you say is impossible. He cannot take possession without the Book of Thoth, and no one knows where that is.”

“Um… isn’t it at the bottom of the Nile?” I asked, shrugging. When they all, and I mean all, turned to look at me, I swallowed. “Yeah there’s the story of the book of Thoth. How it is buried beneath the Nile, guarded by a ghost, you know?” I asked. Evidently, they did not know because the old priest guy at the top stood and descended the steps so quickly, I wasn’t sure how he could do it.

“How do you know this?” he asked and his voice was deep, rich, and booming. It filled the entire temple and resounded off the walls. When his withered feet touched the ground, I swear to god, the eyes on the pharaoh statues turned to regard me. He reached out and touched my face, and the feel of his fingers was like old, dry paper.

I swallowed, my knees going weak as the weight of a heavy gaze fell upon me, forcing me to my knees before him.

“Speak,” he said, and the command filled me up. I shook under the force of it as words tumbled out of me.

“I read it in a book. Well, an electronic book.” I swallowed, trying to keep my suddenly dry throat from closing up, but it was pointless. It was like the desert winds themselves were whipping about inside me.

“I sense that you are not lying, but…” He turned away and stared up at the statue to my left. “That is secret knowledge that you should not have.”

“He’s from the future. Maybe it’s common knowledge where he is from.” Aziza’s voice was slow and thick. Her eyes were heavy lidded, and even from my position on the floor, I could tell she was struggling to stand. Was it because the full force of the priest’s power was directed at me?

“Ah.” The old priest moved back toward the dais. The moment he stopped touching me was like being doused with cold water. I sucked in a breath that tasted like vanilla ice cream of all things.

The old priest knelt down and picked up a large white jar with a golden crocodile emblazoned on it. “That makes everything clear. His future is not visible to me. It is blurry like a pond that has had the dirt kicked up by a thrashing fish.” He handed the jar to Aziza, a warm smile on his lips. “Take this to the river’s edge and feed it to a crocodile. Then you must ride him down into the Duat. Do not be afraid, he will not harm you.”

“Um… what do we do once we ride the magic crocodile down there?” I asked as Aziza took the jar from him and tucked it under one arm.

“Unlock the seven boxes, defeat the spirit that guards the treasured book, and bring it back out of the Duat with you. Take the book to the city of death and use the spell to perceive the gods at its steps. Perhaps Ra will gift you with the staff before Khufu’s plan succeeds.”

“How will Khufu take the staff without the book?” I asked as Aziza grabbed my hand and began pulling me away.

“That is the question, isn’t it?” the old priest replied and began ascending the stairs, his long white robes trailing behind him. “Remember, werewolf, everything is not as it seems.” He winked at me and my stomach clenched as the bad feeling therein turned from a grapefruit to a pumpkin.

“You know what’s going to happen, right?” I said to Aziza as we exited the temple. “We’re going to go through all this trouble to get the staff and book. Then Khufu is just going to steal the staff, the book, or both from us. That’s always how these things end.”

“Which is why I’m going to burn the book to cinders the second we get it. That old priest is a fool if he thinks for a second I’m going to retrieve the staff.” Aziza was staring straight ahead, strangely calm despite the venom spewing from her lips.

“Oh?” I asked. “Is burning a priceless artifact written by the god Thoth himself, you know, wise? Isn’t that how you incur godly wrath?”

“Humans should not have access to the words of the gods, nor the weapons of the gods.” Aziza shook her head. “Even the gods, with unlimited wisdom and power, are petty. Humans would prove even worse stewards.”

“Okay…” I shook my head, staring at my feet as we walked across the sand. “I don’t know if it’s the best plan. Perhaps we should just stay here. If we don’t recover the book then Khufu won’t be able to steal it from us.”

“The best plan is the one that keeps Khufu from getting the staff. If we wait here and do nothing, he might get the book himself. Doubtless he knows where it is, and if he doesn’t, he will soon. You don’t think he has spies in there?” Aziza jerked her thumb at the temple behind us. “Any one of those guards could be a spy for Khufu. The best plan is to find the book and destroy it. If we don’t, as you pointed out, he’ll probably just steal it from us once we do the heavy lifting.”

I sighed. “I don’t like when you use my logic against me. It makes it tough to argue since I like being right.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Aziza replied, grinning at me. “It doesn’t happen very often.”

She stopped and spread her hands out. “This seems like as good a spot as any.” She knelt down in the sand and scooped up a handful. As she stood, the sand poured from her fist, catching the wind and whipping around us like a dervish that grew wider and wider. “Now get ready to hang onto your socks. We’re going for a ride.” She smiled sweetly at me, and my heart sank. This wasn’t going to be good.

A raging tornado of sand and debris exploded into being around us, sweeping us into the air like we were weightless. I cringed away, shielding my face in my arms as the swirling sand lifted me up, but strangely, I didn’t feel my body being torn apart by flying sandpaper. I opened one eye to see Aziza. She sat cross-legged in mid-air, whistling to herself.

Chapter 6

I’d known the Nile was a big ass river, but when I stood before it and stared out at almost two miles of water straight across, it took my breath away. That was ignoring the fact that it went so far in either direction, I couldn’t see the end of it. It reminded me of the time I’d gone with a couple pack mates to see the Mississippi, only this made the Mississippi seem like a small creek running through someone’s backyard.

“Um… so what now?” I asked, swallowing my awe and turning to look at Aziza. She was still dusting herself off from our ride over here in the sand dervish. I smirked. I was glad she’d known that trick because instead of taking hours or days to cross several miles of barren sand in the middle of the day. We were here in minutes. I wasn’t even sure if we’d actually traveled or if we’d been transported. Either way, I was glad we’d avoided a long, arduous trek through hundred-plus degree weather… even if I did have sand in places I didn’t even know I had.

“Now we find us a crocodile and make him magical,” she replied, nudging the jar next to her with one slender foot.

“You know, I never really liked crocodiles. I remember when I was little watching one eat a duck in a wild animal park. It was the scariest thing I ever saw.” I shuddered at the memory of the creature bursting from the green, algae-filled water, and dragging the poor waterfowl to a murky death.

“For a guy who turns into a raging wolf monster you’re surprisingly wussish,” she said, not looking at me as her clothing transformed itself into a pair of very short shorts and an even tinier skin-tight shirt that left very little to the imagination, but somehow made lots of thoughts swim through mine. She took a step off the bank, and waded into the water. I guess she was looking for a crocodile? I don’t know, but that seemed sort of dangerous.

“I am not a wuss. I just prefer not to be eaten,” I said, fear swelling up in my stomach as I scanned the water for reptilian predators. What was her plan? Lure one in to eat her? If it was, it was a terrible plan.

“You’ve tried to eat six of the mummies we fought and a cat.” She shrugged. “I don’t even know why you would try to eat a cat in ancient Egypt.”

“That’s nothing. You should have been there the time I went to India.”

She glanced at me, giving me a look that told me she didn’t find me even slightly funny. Which was a lie of course. I was hilarious.

“Besides, it isn’t like I’ve actually eaten anything. I’m hungry.” I rubbed my stomach. As a werewolf, I actually needed to eat less than the average person because my wolf could sustain me for a while. I knew it had something to do with absorbing magical ether from the air or something, but I wasn’t exactly sure of the details.

“You’re not
actually
hungry. That ring I gave you is more than capable of sustaining your body for months before needing to be recharged. It’s only been a couple days.”

“It’s not the same,” I replied, fingering the tiny golden band she’d taken from one of the mummies. It was warm to the touch, like a little ring of lukewarm bathwater, and while it had kept the worst of the hunger away, it was no substitute for actually eating.