When Jack arrived in Luxor, he moored the boat to the dock and climbed out. The Longtail Boat immediately shrank back to the size of a toy. He plucked it out of the Nile, and put it back in his Book Bag. ‘Where to now?’ Jack asked himself. Up ahead was a sign:
THIS WAY TO THE VALLEY OF THE KINGS
COME AND SEE ARCHAEOLOGICAL WONDERS UP CLOSE
SALAMA MASSRI, CHIEF ARCHAEOLOGIST
Jack decided to explore. After all, maybe this Massri guy had information about the diadem. Maybe he’d even seen Max.
Jack walked along the dusty path towards the Valley of the Kings. He knew that this was an enormous valley where pharaohs and noble people were buried, from the sixteenth to the eleventh century.
Because robbers had found it easy to steal from the pyramids, the Egyptian kings of the eighteenth to the twentieth dynasties decided to hide their bodies in the valley. That way, it would be more difficult to find them and their treasures.
Little did the kings know that, hundreds of years later, millions of tourists would visit their burial grounds. So would archaeologists. In 1922 Howard Carter found King Tut’s tomb here. From the looks of it, Salama Massri was hoping to become famous too.
Up ahead Jack saw a camp full of tents. Men, women, boys and girls were scurrying everywhere, carrying maps, tools and small objects. Some were sitting at tables, cataloging finds. Others were sifting through sand. It was like a factory; a factory for artifact-hunting.
‘Nice work, everyone!’ a man was shouting from another tent. ‘Remember, whatever we find, we get to keep – I mean, turn over to the museum.’
Jack reckoned that must be Salama Massri. But he couldn’t see him yet.
‘We need to find ten more artifacts today,’ the man was bellowing. ‘And you know I don’t like to be disappointed.’
The hired hands scurried around even faster. One of the boys bumped into another, causing him to drop what he was working on.
‘Careful!’ the man roared.
The frightened boy picked up his tools and ran off.
‘Everything in this valley is valuable, even the smallest bit of grit,’ the man said, stepping out of the tent and smiling at his workers.
As he did so, the sunlight bounced off his teeth, sending out a blinding ray of light. Jack quickly shielded his eyes with his hand. When the man closed his mouth, the light disappeared. It was then that Jack realized who it was. He nearly fainted on the spot.
Standing in the middle of the camp was none other than the man with the gold teeth; the madman from Cambodia who’d kidnapped Rachel Newington. Jack dropped to his knees and hid behind a table.
‘Remember,’ the man sneered, ‘each of you is responsible for finding something. And if you don’t,’ he said, kicking sand into a girl’s eyes, ‘you’ll have to answer to me.’
Jack saw an Asian man in silk pantaloons walking over to join Massri. He was the same man who had helped Massri in Cambodia. The two of them left the camp.