Keep calm, Frankie told himself. He tried to ignore the ceiling edging ever closer as he peered at the hieroglyphs. But what hope did he have? He couldn’t read them any better than the tomb robber who’d brought them there.

One line of symbols, right in the center, caught his attention. They looked ancient, like the others, but somehow different. These three little drawings showed a man in various positions with a round object.

“He’s playing soccer!” said Frankie.

Louise came to his side. “I think I know how to get out,” she said. “You have to match the pictures!”

Frankie looked again. In the first picture, the figure was balancing the ball on his right foot. In the second, on his left. In the third, he was bent over, with the ball behind his head, resting on the back of his neck.

But with a stone ball …?

“Better do something quick,” said Charlie, pointing upward. The ceiling was six feet up and pressing farther down by the second.

Frankie snatched the ball off the ground and rolled it onto his right foot. It was so heavy he could hardly hold it. He flicked the ball up a fraction and tried to catch it on his left. It rolled off.

“No time to be nervous,” said Max. “Come on, Frankie!”

Frankie brought the ball back onto his right foot. He tossed it to his left foot. This time he managed to cushion the ball. Almost right away his left leg started to tremble with the weight.

“Get on with it!” cried Medhi. He began to crouch as the ceiling touched his hair.

Then the torch went out, and everything went dark.

Frankie took a deep breath. He’d done the trick a hundred times with a normal ball, but never in the dark. If I get it wrong, I’ll crack my skull. He grunted as he jerked his foot upward and then bent at the waist to stoop beneath the ball. He felt the ball land on the back of his neck and wobble. Frankie maneuvered for balance.

At the same moment, the wooden wall cracked open in the center, flooding the room with light. The ceiling kept descending.

“You did it!” shouted Louise.

Blinking, Frankie let the stone ball drop to the ground and followed the others as they barreled through toward the light.

As his vision cleared, Frankie gasped at the sight below.

They stood on a balcony, high above an enormous square chamber lined with stone seats, all sloped like the outside of the pyramid. A thin shaft of light came through a hole in the roof, casting a line of shadow across the arena. Two goals, marked with stone posts, stood at opposite ends. All around the outside of the field were figures of men and women in soccer poses — reaching, kicking, stretching. Weird, thought Frankie. All that was missing from each statue was the soccer ball.

“This wasn’t in my history books,” said Louise, mouth gaping.

“For the last time, will the challengers please step forward?” said a man far below, in the center of the arena. Though he wore long black robes, and his head was shaved to a shine, Frankie recognized the Ref. He had a whistle hanging around his neck. “Otherwise,” he continued, “the match is forfeit and the Menacing Mummy wins.”

“We’re here!” called Frankie without even thinking. Everyone turned to face them, and boos rippled through the chamber.

“You guys aren’t very popular!” said Medhi, ducking back out of sight. “See ya!”

“At last!” said the Ref. “And what do you call yourselves?”

“Frankie’s Fantasy FC,” cried Louise.

The boos and hisses intensified, echoing off the stone walls.

The Ref held out his hands toward a set of golden doors behind him. “And where are our champions?” he bellowed.

The crowd all shot to their feet at once, and began to chant “KING TUT! KING TUT! KING TUT!”

Through the gateway came the boy Frankie had seen before. His sister with the straight bangs was trying to walk beside him, but he kept skipping in front, as if he wanted to lead the way. They pushed and pulled at each other as they entered the arena.

But behind them came something that made Frankie’s skin crawl. A giant snake slithered across the sandy ground. Its mouth was big enough to swallow Max.

“Something tells me that thing is on their team,” said Max.

The snake had a rope tied over its neck and it dragged something very familiar: a huge oblong coffin, painted in bright colors and gold leaf.

“It’s the sarcopha-thingy from the museum!” said Charlie.

The Ref edged cautiously toward the coffin and unfastened two clasps on the side. Crouching down, he pushed the lid open with a creak. Frankie, along with everyone else in the arena, found himself leaning forward. Inside the coffin lay a figure wrapped in bandages, completely still.

“It’s the mummy!” whispered Louise.

The Ref stepped back, quaking. “Arise!” he called.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then the sound of a huge yawn came from the coffin. The mummy lifted one bandaged arm and gripped the side.

He sat up slowly.

“He’s alive!” said Max.

“That’s impossible,” said Louise.

As the mummy raised a leg to climb out, he almost tripped. Tut ran forward and gave him an arm to lean on.

“Steady, Dad,” he said. “You’ve had a long nap.”

“Let’s go,” said Frankie. He led the way down steep stone steps until they reached the bottom. The mummy turned stiffly to face them. So did the snake. It opened its jaws wide to reveal long, dripping fangs.

“Theeeessse mussst be our opponentsss,” it hissed.

King Tut puffed out his chest. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” he said.

Princess Cleo sneered, and the mummy let out a long moan. The crowd responded with a cheer.

The Ref reached into the open sarcophagus and took out a golden mask and a golden soccer ball. “The winner will take the mummy’s mask!” he said, placing it carefully on top of the coffin lid.

That must be what Medhi wanted to steal, thought Frankie. It certainly looks like it’s worth a lot of money.

The Ref pointed to the shadow that moved slowly across the floor. “And the game will end when the shadow has crossed the field!” He brought his whistle to his lips.

“Ready?” Frankie said to his team.

Charlie and Louise nodded. Max wagged his tail.

The Ref blew the whistle and tossed the ball high into the air.