Cy stared at the half-open mummy case.
The dwarf smirked. ‘Explain this one, oh Great Master-of-the-Mind who said, “My dream will be perfectly logical.”’
‘It’s just a draught of air,’ Cy said.
‘Right inside the middle of a tomb?’ said the dwarf. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Umm . . . we’ve been walking about and that’s caused some vibration, and . . . and dislodged some stones,’ explained Cy.
‘Blithering Blethers!’
Cy took a couple of steps forward. ‘Well, let’s find out what’s inside,’ he said.
‘Yes, do let’s,’ said the dwarf. ‘I’m right behind you . . . a long way behind,’ he added under his breath.
Cy gripped the edge of the partly open mummy case and dragging at it, widened the gap. Then he looked inside.
‘Oh!’ he stepped back quickly.
‘Ouch!’ said the dwarf and rubbed his nose. ‘What is it?’
The body of a young man was propped up inside, hands crossed over his chest. He looks so peaceful, Cy thought.
An ankh amulet hung round its neck. As Cy watched, the knot on the leather cord at the front came loose and it fell with a soft chink at his feet. He picked it up and studied it more closely. It was similar to the one he had shaped out of foil, except that this one was real silver. A leather lace was threaded through the top loop.
‘This is what caused the noise,’ said Cy. ‘The leather knot was coming undone. It’s very new and stiff and doesn’t bend properly.’
‘Hmmph!’ said the dwarf.
Cy looped the cord round his wrist, and then he looked again at the face of the young man. ‘Oh, no!’ he said.
‘What now?’
‘It’s the boy,’ said Cy. ‘The boy in my first dream. The one I tried to rescue . . .’ Cy felt sick at heart as he gazed at the young man’s face, waxy pale, eyes closed in death. ‘I came back too late,’ he said sadly.
The dwarf peered round from behind Cy. ‘He’s giving me the creeps,’ he said. ‘Close over the door.’
Cy looked at the boy for a moment or two longer, and then he raised his hands to close the wooden lid. As a last farewell he stretched out his hand and touched the boy’s face. The skin under his fingers was warm.
Cy cried out and leapt backwards.
‘Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!’ yelled the dwarf, hopping about and trying to hold his toes and nose at the same time. ‘Piffling Pyramids! What in the name of Royal Rameses are you playing at?’
‘Shhh,’ hissed Cy. ‘Don’t make a noise. I think he’s still alive.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ The dwarf spoke very quietly but fiercely. ‘You cannot possibly create life.’
‘I didn’t,’ whispered Cy.
‘Why are we whispering?’ whispered the dwarf. ‘Why are we whispering?’ he asked again, more loudly.
Cy raised his hand. ‘Shhh,’ he said. ‘Listen.’
There was silence. The dwarf opened his mouth. Cy pressed his fingers to his lips and frowned. ‘Wait,’ he mouthed silently.
There was nothing. Only the deathly stillness of the great tomb and beyond that the vast emptiness of the desert.
And then they both heard a small sigh.
‘I’m out of here,’ said the dwarf. ‘This is definitely not in the programme.’
Cy grabbed the dwarf’s arm as he made to leave. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘He’s only a boy.’
‘Yes, but he should not be here.’ The dwarf prised Cy’s fingers from his arm. He turned and looked at Cy for a long moment. ‘You have a powerful imagination.’
‘But . . . I didn’t actually imagine him.’
‘You must have.’
Cy shook his head. ‘I wanted to meet him again, but I didn’t dream him up. Did you?’
‘No, I did not!’ The dwarf stamped his foot. ‘I wouldn’t be so irresponsible.’ He glared at Cy. ‘There are squillions of dreams passing through time and space and I have the benighted bad luck to end up in one where the Dream Master is under-age and undereducated, and . . . and . . . under the impression that things can happen in a dream without the dream’s Dream Master dreaming it up!’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Cy. ‘Things have gone a bit strange.’
‘That is an understatement!’ said the dwarf and he began to bite his beard.
Cy leant forward and spoke to the figure in the mummy case. ‘Can you hear me?’ The boy’s eyes flickered open. They were blank with terror.
Cy swallowed his own fear and managed to smile. ‘Hello,’ he said.
The boy opened and closed his mouth several times. ‘Who are you?’ he managed to say at last.
‘Cy,’ said Cy.
‘Cy.’ The boy repeated the word slowly, hesitantly. ‘What is . . . Cy?’
‘It’s my name,’ said Cy. ‘It’s short for Cyrus.’
The boy made a small whimpering sound. ‘Osiris . . . God of Death.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Cy. ‘No, I’m not a god.’
The boy nodded fearfully. ‘You are here with me in the tomb. Osiris comes at death to judge all people. This I know, as I have been taught by my uncle.’
Cy shook his head and tried to think of a way to explain how he came to be in the tomb. But then he realized that he didn’t fully understand it himself. The boy was shaking, whether from fear or cold Cy did not know.
He took the boy gently by the arm. ‘Let’s talk,’ he said. He made a space among the furniture and sat the boy down. Then he held the torch high. ‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘I am a boy just like you. What is your name?’
‘I am Aten of the Ankh.’ The boy studied Cy carefully, looking at his white T-shirt and red boxer shorts, and his hair, which fell on each side with a middle parting.
‘You are a boy,’ he said at last, ‘but you are not as I am. You are of another people.’
‘Yes,’ said Cy eagerly. ‘I am from another land.’
‘Across the great desert?’ asked Aten.
‘Across the desert,’ said Cy, ‘and beyond the sea.’
‘Then how came you here?’ Aten spread his hand out in front of him. ‘You must be a god. Only a god can walk through stone.’
‘Good point,’ said the dwarf in a low voice. ‘Answer that, Mr Smartypants.’
Cy ignored him. ‘Why are you inside the tomb?’ he asked Aten.
Aten frowned. ‘For many years there has been great unrest in the land. When the Pharaoh died the court officials decided that his heir was too young to rule, so they decided to crown a new king of their own. My uncle opposed them and I was taken captive with him. We were to be executed, but a great sandstorm arose . . .’ He tailed off, and stared at Cy. ‘You were there!’ he exclaimed. ‘I remember now. You came riding from within the bright sun to rescue me.’ He looked at the torch in Cy’s hand and began to tremble again. ‘You carry the sun in your hand. You truly are a god.’
‘No,’ said Cy firmly. ‘I am not. Look, I’ll try to explain about it later. Just tell me how you came to be inside the mummy case.’
‘They gave me a sleeping potion to drink and left me to await death. Then they carried me here with all the other goods so that I would disappear and no-one would know where. I did not know that they would put me in the Pharaoh’s burial place.’ He looked around slowly. ‘I suppose it is a great honour.’
From beside Cy the dwarf snorted.
‘We must get you out of here,’ said Cy.
‘Can’t you think of a more original line than that?’ muttered the dwarf.
Aten looked puzzled. ‘The priests and the slaves seal the entrance. There is no way out.’
‘I can make a doorway,’ said Cy. He stared at the nearest wall and concentrated hard. Slowly, very slowly, a door appeared. ‘See?’ He stood up, torch in hand, and started to walk towards it. He had only taken a few paces when it disappeared again.
‘Hey!’ Cy turned to the dwarf. ‘What gives?’
The dwarf held up the edge of his cloak. The rippling black silk was edged with grey. ‘The dream’s fading,’ he said. ‘It’s time to go.’
‘No,’ said Cy. He stared at the wall and determinedly thought of a door. This time the image barely lasted a few seconds before it shimmered away. He turned to the dwarf in alarm. ‘We need a door to get out of here.’
‘Dreams don’t last for ever, Cy,’ said the dwarf.
‘This one has to go on a bit longer,’ said Cy. ‘I must help Aten.’
The Dream Master’s cloak spun out behind him. It was pearly translucent.
‘We have to go back now.’ The dwarf spoke urgently.
‘I can’t leave Aten,’ said Cy.
The cloak was changing as they spoke. The material was almost transparent.
‘Make your choice, then,’ said the Dream Master. ‘Go now, while you can. Or stay here with him, walled up in this tomb for three thousand years.’