Darkness had fallen. The temperature had dropped, but Alex could still feel the heat radiating off his skin on the side the Death Walker’s fireball had passed. Luke had blisters where he’d touched the Walker. And Ren was just as sunburned as the rest of them from the blinding blast of light.

They sat in front of the small fire they’d built, moving as little as possible. Everything hurt. “I need, like, some lotion or something,” said Luke, poking at a blister near his elbow.

He was sitting in a folding chair. Along with a small stack of dried-out firewood, also currently in use, the chair was the only thing that had been left of the tomb robbers’ campsite. After being caught hammer-handed, Alex figured the secretive crooks had sought out an even more remote hideout.

“This whole thing was a trap,” moaned Ren, keeping the complaint ball rolling. “Hesaan knew there was a Death Walker here, and he sent us right to it …”

“Explains why there was someone on the train here, too,” offered Luke.

Alex barely heard them. He was too busy scouring the visitor’s log he’d taken from the council’s guard booth. The plastic cover was partially melted, and the pages inside were dried and crisp. They reminded Alex of ancient papyrus, and they might as well have been.

He turned to the next page and tipped it toward the glow of the fire. Once again, he was confronted with row after row of scrawled names and dates. Most of the entries were in Arabic, but he concentrated on the English entries. There was one column for printed names, another for signatures, and another for what must have been reason for visit. The occasional date in English told him he was in the right range …

“Well, whatever,” said Ren. “Because they sent the wrong three kids into this trap. We know what to do with a Death Walker.”

Luke sat back and released a do we have to groan, and Alex looked up from his logbook.

“This thing is killing people, Luke,” Ren continued. “We need to get the Book of the Dead. I’ll bet there’s one in Luxor. And we need to figure out who this Death Walker is, so we know which spell to use against him.”

Alex looked at the fire and blinked a few times, trying to reset his eyes after too much dim-light reading. He was sure there was something going on in Tut’s tomb. The bones, the burned Aten … But most of all, the feeling he’d gotten from his amulet. It wouldn’t light up like that for nothing. It had to be something big. And if it was the Spells, hidden somewhere inside there …

“Okay,” he said. This time he was the tie-breaker. “We need to go back to KV 62, and we can’t go back into the valley without some way to fight that guy.”

“What we need to do is not get burned to bacon,” said Luke.

“We should head into Luxor first thing tomorrow,” said Ren. “We can’t fight a Death Walker without the Book of the Dead.”

Alex couldn’t focus on Luxor, though — his thoughts were still in the desert. “I think the Spells really might be down there. The scarab went crazy in that tomb … Maybe my mom really was just putting them back, to keep them safe.” He liked the idea. It explained why she was doing it on her own, in secret. It was kind of noble, even. But the others looked skeptical.

“Do you really think they’re there?” said Ren. “We went through that tomb.”

Cheered up by his new theory, Alex managed a small smile. He lowered his sunburned face toward the firelight: “I definitely think we’re getting warmer …”

The sound of soft laughter spilled like much-needed rain into the desert night.

But just as Alex was reaching down to pick up the logbook again, he heard something.

“Shhh!” he said. “What was that?”

The other two froze.

Tsss-tsss-tsss-tsss.

Such a small sound, like someone stabbing a sack of flour with a small, sharp blade …

“I hear it,” whispered Ren, her eyes opening wide. “It’s coming from …” She turned and pointed, just as the source of the noise entered the glow of the dying fire. “It’s Pai again,” said Ren.

“Mmmur-rack?” said the mummy cat.

Luke eyed her uneasily. “No burger,” he noted.

Ren stayed seated in the sand and tried to coax Pai-en-Inmar, sacred servant of Bastet, into her lap. “She makes me feel safe.”

A voice sounded from the opposite side of the fire, clear and almost singsong, but in an ancient language.

All three human heads swung around frantically, and even Pai ventured a look over her shoulder.

Luke tipped backward in his chair, arms windmilling wildly as he spilled onto the ground. “Gah!” he said, desperately scrambling to his feet. “Who is it? Is it the Walker?”

“I don’t understand this one,” said the figure, gesturing toward Luke.

Alex had wrapped his hand around his amulet out of sheer survival instinct. He understood the words, but it took him a moment to muster a response.

“I know you,” he managed finally, staring up from his spot by the fire.

“You, I understand,” said the figure, taking another step into the light. He seemed to consider it for a moment and then turned his hand palm up and raised it a few inches. “You may rise, my subjects.”

Alex and Ren slowly stood, and Luke followed a few beats later.

Alex looked down. “You … you have feet.”

The young man looked to be no more than eighteen, with bronze skin and handsome, somehow familiar features. He was wrapped in ornate robes and looking down at his own feet. “So I do,” he said, “but I never liked these sandals.”

His sandaled feet were bare, just like his head and hands, but a band of tightly wrapped linen was visible below the hem of his robes. Alex looked closer and saw scraps of linen peeking out from the wrists and neck of the garments as well.

The figure looked up and met Alex’s stare. Alex wasn’t trying to be rude, he just couldn’t quite believe it. He recognized the face, of course. It looked exactly like the most famous gold funerary mask in history.

“Tutankhamun,” he said in a hushed, reverent tone.

“Yes,” said the boy king, “but you may call me Pharaoh or Supreme Ruler or Almighty Emissary of the Great and Powerful Amun-Re. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“King Tut?” said Ren, incredulous.

“Yes,” he said, shrugging. “I suppose that will do, too.”

Alex looked over at Ren and saw her look down at the spot where her left hand encircled her ibis. Ren was speaking ancient Egyptian, too.

“Duuuuuude!” said Luke, pointing at Tut. “You’re famous!”

Tut stared at him blankly, and then turned to Alex. “What is the meaning of Duuuuuude? Is that this strange boy’s name?”

Alex glanced over at his cousin. “Kind of,” he said.

“I see,” said Tut. “But I grow weary of you all. I will pet your cat now, as is my divine right.”

But Pai seemed unconvinced.

Tut took one step closer and Pai backed up.

A second step and she hissed.

“Perhaps not,” said Tut, changing course. “I would hate to get scratched.” He looked down at Pai. “Fine, you little beast,” he said. “Flea receptacle. All I did was restore the worship of the old gods, your master included. All I did was rebuild their temples. Go ahead and hiss!”

Tut headed toward Luke, who backed up, but not fast enough to prevent the boy king from plucking the Yankees cap off his head.

“Hey!” said Luke. Tut ignored him and his dramatic hat head and turned back toward the other two. Holding the cap in one long elegant hand, he gestured toward the intertwined NY symbol with the other. “I am not familiar with this hieroglyph,” he said. “What does it mean?”

“Some people call it the Evil Empire,” said Alex, Mets fan to the core.

“Mmmm,” said Tut. “I am familiar with those.”

“What, uh, what are you doing here?” said Alex, before quickly adding: “Your, um, majesty?”

Tut considered him for a second, taking in his stained clothes and burned skin with a look of mild disdain. “I saw the fire,” he said. He dropped the cap in the sand and began walking away. “And anyway,” he added. “I am looking for something.”

Without another word, he disappeared into the night to continue his search.