PARADING WITH KHONS-WHO?

 

 

“My quarters,” the captain said to Mut, nodding at Jagger and Aria to follow.

Moments later, the four of them sat around a rectangular table in the captain’s cozy office. Hemet and Mutef stood at attention behind Mut’s chair.

“About your bag of magic,” the captain began.

Mut waved off his concern. “I can replenish in Thebes.”

“I was talking to her.” Babi nodded at Aria, who hugged her bag to her chest like it was her most prized stuffed animal, a floppy-eared, yellow bunny Dad gave her on the only Easter they ever spent with him. She’d dragged that thing across the planet ten times over.

“Right.” Mut flashed a lopsided grin, considering Aria and her sparkly, purple purse. “That was impressive. Any chance there’s something in there that can replace the letter of introduction Smenkare stole so we can get you two in to see Herihor?”

Aria cocked her head to the side, then shook it. “No ancient scrolls, sorry.”

“Maybe it’s time I get the whole story.” The captain drummed his fingers on the table.

Mut bit her lip. “You know some of it already,” she admitted. “What you don’t know—”

“Wait …” Jagger leaned forward. “How do we know …” He swallowed hard. He wasn’t entirely sure he should trust Mut. But she knew about the letter and the Isis Knot amulet. How would she have known that stuff if she wasn’t the Protector? But Tatia hadn’t said anything about the captain. “I mean …”

Mut reached a flawless hand across the table and laid it on his fidgeting fingers. “I’d trust Babi with my life,” she said. “And right now, I’m going to trust him with yours. Because we need a new plan. And new plans benefit from new allies.”

Jagger looked at Aria.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not Dad either,” she pouted.

He stared down at his dirty fingernails, feeling their eyes on him. He wasn’t convinced, but what choice did he have? He shrugged.

Mut spared Jagger a patient grin before turning back to Babi. Jagger watched the captain through hooded eyes as Mut told him about Mek’s Ka and Tatia’s actions and the General’s plans. Babi’s eyes grew wider as the tale progressed.

“So I’m here to help Jagger find the gemstones that house Mek’s Ka before the spell is cast,” Mut concluded. “And, if the gods are kind, to return them before she dies so she can enjoy her much-deserved afterlife.”

“That’s quite a tale.” Babi leaned back, scowling. “The General must be in Thebes. And now he’ll know the three of you are near.” He rubbed his stubbly cheek. “And that you’re headed for Herihor.”

“The good news is we know who’s helping him.” Mut snuggled into her chair. “Smenkare isn’t the strongest magician—the Heqa-oo Moot seems beyond his abilities. He’s also not much of a brother. But I wouldn’t have suspected him of murdering his half-sisters, or Tut. Although his father, well, that’s no surprise—Smenkare detests Pharaoh. And Nefertiti.”

“That kid has a history of bad choices.” Babi rapped his knuckles on the table and huffed. “Step one is to get Jagger and Aria in front of the High Priest.” His eyes found Mut’s. “Sounds like a job for a good smuggler.”

“Know any?” Mut raised a brow, her lips hinting at a smile.

“Oh, I know a guy. Toss in a brilliant magician, two fearless guards, and a couple of kids with a bag full of mystery items, and we might just get to Herihor without that letter. But how?” He paused and the tap, tap, tap of his fingers against the table irked Jagger. “Today is festival day, so Thebes will be more crowded than usual—”

“Festival day?” Jagger leaned forward. “A religious festival?”

Babi nodded.

“Festival day,” Jagger mused softly. All eyes were on him. He dropped his head back against the chair and pressed his hands to his face. Eyes shut tight, he imagined the books and articles he’d read about ancient Egyptian, religious festivals. There was something … temples, statues, food, dancing, priests, floats, incense … He teased out the memory, and his head snapped up.

He froze. His eyes shifted to Babi. What if …?

“Spill it, Brainy.” Aria crossed her arms over her chest.

Jagger’s grip tightened on the arms of his chair. “I guess … maybe …” What if he was wrong?

“Just say it,” Aria chided.

He sighed. “Okay. I do have one idea. It might be a ridiculous, crazy, absurd idea. But it’s an idea.”

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, having explored purse, pockets, the ship’s hull, and Jagger’s knowledge of ancient religious festivals, they had a plan.

Aria was decked out in Mut’s fanciest jewel-encrusted tunic. Jagger stood next to her, dressed as a priest of Amun-Ra, in a white, linen kilt with gold armbands circling his biceps. He dabbed at the kohl around his eyes. He was getting used to the makeup, but not his hair—he ran his hand over his head, missing his ‘fro.

Nearby, Hemet and Mutef were squirming into wooden barrels. Babi watched the recently dumped wine turn the Nile red as he strapped a royal soldier’s leather chest guard over his pecs.

“Dock when the pier is busy,” Babi told his second-in-command. “We want everyone to see Mut and her barrels disembark. And don’t be shy making your way to the Workman’s Village. The more convinced Smenkare and the General are that Jagger and Aria were smuggled into the Village, the more likely we are to succeed. So make some noise in there.” He gave Hemet a playful sock in the arm.

“Good luck, Captain.” Mut stared deeply into Babi’s eyes, and Jagger squirmed. Just how well did these two know each other? Mut turned and pulled Aria in for a hug.

“Wait.” Jagger stepped back when she whirled toward him. “Maybe Babi should go with Mutef and Hemet, and we should stay with you.”

Mut and Babi exchanged a glance.

“Good grief, Brainy,” Aria moaned. “We’ve gone over this a hundred times. Smell-kare and the General will assume we’ll stick to Mut like glue. Because she’s the Protector. And the magician. That’s why we’re going with Babi. Do we need to say it slower so your big brain can process it?”

Jagger shifted his weight back and forth. What if Babi took them straight to the General? Arguments thundered through his head. Too slowly. His sister jumped into a rowboat with Babi and two sailors. With a heavy sigh, Jagger followed her. He pouted as the sailors sped them toward the shore.

Babi sat across from Jagger on the boat’s small bench, tapping his fingers on his knees. His eyes stuck to Jagger like a magnet to ferromagnetic material. “You’ll see, kid.” He shrugged. “I never abandon my friends.”

Jagger’s spine stiffened. “We’re not friends.” He rubbed his almost-bald head as a smile spread across the captain’s face. Babi glanced over at an annoyed looking Aria and winked. She rolled her eyes at him conspiratorially then stared down at the river as if she could spear a fish with her gaze.

A few minutes later, they landed on the outskirts of town. The sailors pulled the rowboat into a nearby field and hid it under stalky, yellow vegetation, then Babi led them through farms toward the city center. They plodded past hovels of mud brick and dirty kids carrying vegetables from a field.

“So the gods need rides, and the priests are like Chicago cabbies?” Aria quizzed Jagger as they reached the city outskirts and trekked past small homes and vendors and busy people.

Jagger curled his hands into fists, exhausted by his sister’s cluelessness. “Not sure I’ve ever heard a ride with a Chicago cabbie described as religious experience, but sort of. I guess. Gold statues of the gods are hidden in small huts on top of floats. The priests pull them from temple to temple so the gods can visit each other.” Jagger couldn’t ignore the stirring of intellectual curiosity. He’d read about the festivals. And now he was going to see one!

“The gods have playdates at each other’s houses,” Aria said as if it were the most logical thing ever. “And they need a ride. That tracks.”

Jagger scowled, but Babi laughed, deep in his belly.

Jagger was formulating a riveting history-laden response in his head, when the view transformed. An enormous temple loomed before them, stretching to the sky. Jagger stopped in his tracks, gazing up at the white, sandstone walls that surrounded the temple. The walls were covered in vibrant reliefs. Images of larger-than-life gods were besieged by colorful hieroglyphs. Tall, crimson flags flapped in the wind at the temple’s towering, front entrance.

“Come on.” Babi ushered them toward the back of the crowd.

Aria rubbed sweat off her face with a corner of her cloak. She and Babi hid their costumes under linen cloaks. Jagger and the sailors fit right in—they looked like all the other priests roaming around.

Jagger followed, clutching the amulet. “Mut, Mutef, and Hemet are on the shore.”

“Good.” The captain nodded. “They’ll be at the dock. Now, we go this way.” Babi led them behind the crowd, walking parallel to the wide boulevard toward the larger temple barely visible at the far end of a long, sphinx-lined avenue. “Most people will stay near the two larger temples to see the god, Amun-Ra, his wife, Mut, and their son, Khonsu. The kid has his own float, and that’s the one we want. The way-stations between the temples will be less crowded. The free bread and beer are at the temples, not to mention the dancers and acrobats.”

Jagger’s stomach did a somersault at the smell of meat and spices mingling in the air.

They approached a stone sphinx, larger than the others, surrounded by a scattering of people. An old woman in rags, missing most of her teeth, was selling fertility amulets. The words flying from her mouth made Jagger want to cover Aria’s ears.

“Khonsu’s float will stop here,” Babi whispered before directing the two soldiers to take up positions in the sparse crowd. “Be ready.”

One by one, the first two large floats—made of gold, Lebanese cedar, and precious stones—passed by, accompanied by priests and priestesses. A priest wearing a ram’s head led the procession. The huts, hiding the gods inside, jiggled with each step as the priestesses rattled loud instruments. Each float paused briefly as it reached the sphinx, and the priests set their heavy burden down on nearby brackets that held the float about a foot above ground, protecting it from the dirt. As the float rested, the sparse crowd fell to their knees in adoration. The priests performed some kind of ritual that involved a lot of noise and some very smelly incense, but Jagger guessed they really just needed a rest from carrying the heavy floats.

The two floats, and their entourages, moved on after the ceremonies were done, and another float appeared. Although every bit as flashy as the first two, with a huge, golden crescent moon affixed to the top, Khonsu’s float had fewer priests accompanying it. A mere eight men carried the float, accompanied by a scattering of priestesses.

As with Amun-Ra and Mut’s floats, the priests set Khonsu’s float down on the nearby brackets, and the crowd fell to its collective knees.

“It’s time,” Babi whispered to Jagger and Aria.

Jagger ground his teeth, waiting.

Pop!

He blew out a puff of air.

Pop! Pop!

The crowd gasped. People turned in circles, searching for the source of the unfamiliar sound.

Pop. Pop. Pop!

Babi tossed off his cloak and shouted commands. “Take cover. Get to the temple.”

People started running, scared. More Chinese poppers, left over from the kids’ last visit to Chicago’s Chinatown and mined from Aria’s purse, burst. Babi’s soldiers were dropping them as they ran along with the crowd, herding people away from the float.

“You too,” Babi yelled at the priests. “Get to the temple.”

Most did as bid, but a few brave souls stayed to protect their god, as Babi had predicted.

“Now,” he whispered to Aria.

Jagger’s stomach was in knots as she wiggled out of her cloak and walked toward the remaining priests. Her lips were pursed in her I-mean-business look. Jagger rushed to keep up.

“Bow for your princess.” Babi’s voice carried authority.

A few of the priests dropped instantly, but several stood gawking.

“I said bow,” Babi repeated.

All but one hit the ground.

Aria turned to face the man who stayed on his feet. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I’ve come a very long way, from the city of Amarna, to meet your god, Khons-who. I’m sure you can understand.” She added her I’m-so-sweet smile and batted her lashes. “That it’s difficult for me to show myself, under the circumstances.”

“You’re the princess?” the priest stammered. “Our princess? From Amarna? And you want to talk to Khonsu?”

“Our princess insisted we accompany her here for the festival.” Babi leaned toward the priest, speaking lowly. “She adores the old gods, but she’s dedicated to Khonsu above all. This must remain secret. Her life would be in danger if the Aten’s forces learned of her loyalty. We trust you to keep this to yourselves, but she begs a moment alone with your god. This loyal priest of Amun-Ra,” he said as he motioned toward Jagger. “Has accompanied her from Amarna. He’ll attend her as she devotes herself to Khonsu. Privately.”

“A priest of Amun-Ra? From Amarna?” The priest’s eyes bulged like a cartoon character as he stared at Jagger. “I didn’t think … How is that …”

Jagger cleared his throat. He was amazed at Aria’s brazenness. She played the part like a Hollywood starlet. This princess thing must be going to her head! Determined not to be outdone by his little sister again, he stood taller. “It’s dangerous. But we … we keep the worship of the old gods strong in the new city. The princess is … is one of our most devoted believers.”

“Truly?” The priest’s eye softened.

Jagger almost felt sorry for the guy. He looked genuinely touched as he wiped wet eyes and motioned the others to stand. “Of course, we’ll give her a moment. Bless you, princess.”

“Your loyalty is appreciated,” Babi soothed him as he gestured for the priest and his men to turn away, steering them down the street and nodding at Jagger to move quickly.

Adrenaline coursed through Jagger as he waited for the priests to leave. A few feet away, the priest turned back and stared at Aria. “Did you make that awful noise?”

Aria froze. She glanced at Jagger. He shook his head, pointing slyly at the float.

“No,” she replied smoothly. “That was Khons-who, helping me in my quest.”

“Khonsu,” Jagger whispered under his breath.

The guy fanned himself. At Babi’s prompting, he turned and waddled away.

Jagger jerked back the float’s curtain, revealing the god’s statue: a solid gold child, dressed in a linen kilt with gems hanging from his ears and neck and a silver moon atop his head. Khonsu sat on a plush bench, filling the hut’s space. No room there. And the statue was too heavy to move. Where would they hide a statue worth a fortune anyway? Not exactly a plan designed to avoid attention.

Jagger yanked the curtain back in place and dropped to the ground, wriggling under the float. “Be here,” he mumbled to himself.

Yes! A false door, just as he’d hoped. Babi and Mut were surprised when Jagger told them the floats had hidden compartments, designed for a priest to hide in so they could speak to the crowd in the god’s voice. He heaved a sigh of relief. Their entire plan had rested on his book knowledge of ancient float construction. And over the past few days, Jagger had learned that the facts he’d gathered from books weren’t as reliable as he’d always assumed.

Opening the small trap door, Jagger flashed his phone light around the human-sized space. He pulled out a bag, and Aria pushed it behind the stone sphinx.

“Hurry.” He helped his sister in first, then crawled in behind her and wiggled the door shut. It was a tight fit. He and Aria were shoved together like sardines in the cans Grams kept in the back of her cupboard. When he turned off his flashlight, it was pitch black. Aria’s breathing sounded thunderous.

“You okay?” he whispered, cursing himself for not keeping her inhaler handy.

“Sshh,” she shot back.

The next few minutes dragged on. Babi and the priests finally returned, and Jagger heard the clinking sounds of the captain handing over Mut’s gold. Then, the float was lifted, and they began moving. Something sharp dug into Jagger’s side as the float swayed back and forth.

Jagger bit his lip, holding in the moan that threatened to escape. This was going to be a long, hard, jet-black ride.