Ra the Mighty: The Great Tomb Robbery / Великое ограбление гробницы (by A. B. Greenfield, 2019) - аудиокнига на английском

Pampering I’m not hard to please. Ask anyone. But when you’re covered with fur and you’ve spent two full days traveling up the Nile under the fiery summer sun, you expect a little pampering. Especially if you’re Ra the Mighty, Pharaoh’s Cat. Luckily, I travel with my own special pampering crew. We reached the palace at Thebes at dawn, and they whisked me away to Pharaoh’s private garden. There they offered me a cushion and a snack of spiced ibex while they unpacked their brushes and perfumes. I was on my third chunk of ibex when a tiny voice piped up from somewhere between my ears. “Ra? You’re not really going to wear perfume, are you?” “Of course I am,” I said. “I know you haven’t been to Thebes before, but it’s a noble city with high standards. Trust me, it’s a glamorous place. I always wear perfume here.” “Then I’m getting off.” My fur rippled, and my buddy Khepri bounded onto the stones by my cushion. For a scarab beetle, he’s pretty quick on his feet. It must be all that dung-rolling he does. “Suit yourself.” I snarfed up the last chunk of ibex. “But if you ask me, a little perfume wouldn’t hurt you, Khepri. Anyone who spends as much time with dung as you do—” “Dung smells wonderful,” Khepri protested. “I beg to differ.” I rolled onto my side as the attendants came forward with their brushes. “You won’t catch me smelling like a dung pile, ever.” Not for the first time, I was glad my attendants couldn’t understand a word Khepri and I were saying. (Humans never do.) “You’re missing out, Ra,” Khepri said earnestly. “I’m not missing a thing,” I said. “Jasmine, lily, myrrh—that’s what I call perfume.” “Blech.” Khepri backed up until he was a safe distance away from the perfume bottles. “I think I’ll go explore the palace.” “Sure,” I said, yawning. I bent my head and allowed the attendants to smooth the fur between my ears. (That’s the bit Khepri always rucks up.) “You go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.” “Great,” Khepri chirped. “By then, maybe I’ll have a new case for us.” I lifted my head. “Oh, Khepri. Not that again.” We had solved exactly one mystery together, and I had thought that was plenty. But Khepri had other ideas. “You need to be more open, Ra,” Khepri insisted. “I keep bringing you cases, and you keep turning them down. The case of the missing loaves—” “They weren’t missing,” I said. “The baker’s assistant miscounted. He’s never been good with numbers.” “—and the case of the mysterious stranger—” “I told you: it was the Assyrian ambassador.” “—and the case of the disappearing dung pile—” “Khepri, I draw the line at dung.” I twisted so that the attendants could brush my tummy. “We’re Great Detectives, my friend. We require a Great Mystery, not some piddling little nothing of a case. When a Great Mystery appears, then I’ll get involved. But not before.” “Well, I’d be okay with a Small Mystery,” Khepri said. “Even a Very Small Mystery.” “You’re right, Khepri,” said a brisk voice behind us. “Even a Very Small Mystery would be good for Ra.” It was our fellow Great Detective, Miu—kitchen cat extraordinaire. I flipped over and braced myself. Miu is a terrific friend, brave and loyal, but she has this strange idea that the life I lead doesn’t build character. (Honestly! Everyone knows that Pharaoh’s Cat is born with oodles of character. He hardly needs more.) I greeted her with a ripple of my whiskers. “I thought you were going to stay on the boat and search for stowaway rats.” “Job done,” Miu reported with pride. She rubbed a paw over her torn ear, clearing a cobweb away. “How about you, Ra? Have you accomplished anything since we arrived?” “I’ve accomplished a snack,” I said. Miu’s whiskers twitched. “That doesn’t count.” “Sure it counts.” I yawned and went floppy again. The attendants were getting to my tail—my favorite bit. “No matter how many times I see this, I can’t believe it,” Miu said, watching. “Cats are supposed to clean themselves, Ra. Like this.” She started licking her hindquarters. I shut my eyes. “Uggh. I’m willing to give myself a quick touch-up here and there. But a serious cleaning? Licking dirt off with my tongue? You’ve got to be kidding me.” “We’re cats,” Miu said. “That’s what we do.” “Not Pharaoh’s Cat,” I insisted. “I have people for that. See?” The attendants gave me one last stroke, then picked up their perfume bottles. “Perfume?” Miu looked scandalized. “Ra, that’s a step too far.” “This is Thebes, Miu. You haven’t really seen the place yet, but that’s how they do things around here.” As the attendants rubbed their perfumes into my fur, I sniffed at the air with a glad sigh. “Mmmm…this is my favorite. Jasmine with overtones of lotus.” Miu wrinkled her nose. “Somebody needs to save you from yourself, Ra.” I waved a languid paw. “I’m fine. No saving needed.” Miu ignored me. She’s a very strong-minded cat. “Khepri, we’re going to have to intervene. We need to find a mystery for Ra, and fast.” Khepri clicked his forelegs in agreement. “Aye, aye!” I had other ideas. Duty done, the attendants bowed and stepped back. I rose from my cushion, gave myself a good stretch, then strutted toward the door. “Ra, where are you going?” Miu asked. Khepri scuttled after me. “Yes, where?” I paused at the doorway. “It’s a mystery,” I told them, and bounded away. Great Pharaoh’s Cat Pampered or not, I can move fast when I want to. By the time Miu and Khepri caught up with me, I’d reached my destination: the side courtyard. Khepri hopped off Miu and clambered onto me. “What’s going on, Ra?” “Tell you in a minute,” I said. Pharaoh stood with his guards arrayed around him. His gold-embroidered tunic shone in the sun. Before him, bowing low, was the Vizier of the South, the top official in Thebes. As Pharaoh’s deputy, he was responsible for managing the palace, collecting taxes, and enforcing the law in his domain. Seeing me, Pharaoh broke off his conversation with the Vizier. “Ra, you look magnificent. Vizier, you remember my cat?” “Indeed I do.” Turning toward me, the Vizier bowed still more deeply. “Ra the Mighty, Lord of the Powerful Paw, Great Pharaoh’s Cat, how very good to welcome you again to the royal palace at Thebes.” The bow was a nice touch, but I wasn’t fooled. The Vizier had never been a fan of mine, not since the day I attacked his wig and chewed it up in front of the whole court. (It looked like a rat, I swear.) I was only a frisky kitten then, so you’d think he’d forgive and forget. But he hasn’t. When Pharaoh wasn’t looking, the Vizier curled his lip at me. I curled mine right back, showing my pointy teeth. Pharaoh smiled down on us both. “We are glad you’re pleased to see Ra, Vizier. Especially as you’ll be spending the whole day together.” The Vizier choked. “The wh-whole day? O Ruler of Rulers, I am not worthy.” “Possibly not,” Pharaoh agreed, “but we need you to bring Ra to the Valley of the Kings today. He is to pose for the artists who are working on our tomb. They will create a wall painting of him and a sculpture, both as large as life.” “There,” I said to Miu and Khepri. “Now you see why I wanted a proper brushing.” Miu looked confused. “You’re wearing perfume for your tomb?” “It’s all part of the package,” I told her. “It sets a distinctive tone.” She rubbed a paw against her nose. “It certainly does.” “I’ve always wanted to see the Valley of the Kings,” Khepri said wistfully, high on the top of my head. “That’s where the pharaohs are buried in their pyramids, right?” “You need to keep up with the times,” I told him. “Nobody builds pyramids anymore, Khepri. Too old-fashioned. Too obvious. Might as well put up a huge sign saying ‘Robbers, here’s the treasure.’ That’s why the pharaohs switched to the Valley of the Kings. It’s guarded, it’s private, and it’s only for royals. They build the tombs into the cliffs, and once they’re sealed, most people can’t even guess where the entrances are.” “So there’s nothing to see?” Khepri sounded disappointed. “Oh, there’s plenty of desert cliffs, if you like that sort of thing. They’re quite majestic, if you catch them in the right light. And you could probably peek in at Pharaoh’s tomb-in-progress—” “Ooooh.” Khepri perked up. “Really?” “I don’t see why not. And while you’re there, we can look at mine, too. I can’t remember what I’ve told you about it—” “Pharaoh designed it,” Khepri chirped. “It’s going to have a chamber connected to his,” Miu put in. “And walls patterned in carnelian and lapis lazuli—” “And paintings of your favorite pool—” “And a gilded cat bed—” “With a jeweled cushion—” “And little clay servants—” “To brush your fur—” “And a cat-shaped sarcophagus,” Khepri finished. “Do I really talk about it so much?” I said. “Oh, no,” said Khepri. “Oh, yes,” said Miu. “Well, who can blame me?” I said happily. “It’s going to be quite extraordinary. And did I mention the snacks?” Merely thinking about them made me lick my lips: wooden boxes packed to the brim with mummified quail and ibex and mutton and antelope. “I won’t go hungry in the afterlife, that’s for sure.” As far as I’m concerned, that’s the whole point of a tomb. A gilded cat bed and a jeweled cushion are nice accessories, and I’m fond of the clay servants that will wait on me for all eternity, but it’s the food I care about most—and not just because I’m a bit of a gourmet. The priests say you need two things for a good afterlife: a properly preserved mummy, and enough food to sustain your spirit. If you don’t have those, then you can kiss the hereafter good-bye. “Of course, everything’s a work in progress at the moment,” I reminded Miu and Khepri. “That’s why I need to go pose.” Khepri was practically bouncing between my ears. “Ra, can I come with you?” “Sure,” I said. “You can entertain me while they draw. You come too, Miu.” She scratched her side with her hind paw. “I’ll pass.” “How can you say no, Miu?” Chittering with excitement, Khepri danced by my ear. “A whole day in the Valley of the Kings—wow! We can go exploring, Ra. And maybe we’ll find a Great Mystery. Something spooky, maybe—or even buried treasure.” “Sorry, Khepri. I’ll be too busy posing.” He looked so disappointed that I added, “But you can look around by yourself if you want to.” Khepri looked down at his tiny forelegs. “I won’t get very far on my own.” I couldn’t deny it. Scarabs are small, and the Valley of the Kings is vast. Miu sighed. “Never mind, Khepri. If you want to go exploring, I’ll take you.” Khepri looked up. “But you said you weren’t coming.” Miu regarded him fondly. “I changed my mind.” A few feet away, Pharaoh was wrapping things up with the Vizier. “One last point, Vizier: we have heard rumors of discontent among the tomb workers.” The Vizier still had his head down. “O Ruler of Rulers, do not for one moment trouble yourself. The tomb workers are delighted to serve you, as are we all. We are not worthy even to look upon your feet—” “Vizier, you will find out what the trouble is and report back to us before the end of the day.” Pharaoh spoke in his no-nonsense voice—a voice I knew all too well from my early clawing-the-furniture days. The Vizier was no fool. “O Ruler of Rulers, I shall go this very minute.” “Indeed you shall.” Pharaoh gestured toward the back of the courtyard. Six men came forward, bearing a fancy litter (or people carrier, as I sometimes call it). Backing away from Pharaoh with a series of half-bows, the Vizier crawled under its fine linen canopy. “Up you go, Ra,” Pharaoh said. “Hang on,” I whispered to Khepri. Leaping onto the litter, I landed almost in the Vizier’s lap—a serious miscalculation on my part. The Vizier’s hand clamped down on the scruff of my neck. With the canopy hiding his grip from Pharaoh, he tried to shove me off the litter. Khepri darted out of my fur and ran across the Vizier’s hand. The Vizier yelped and released me. “Nice work,” I murmured as Khepri hopped back onto my head. “A beetle!” The Vizier’s lips twisted in disgust. “Crawling in the cat’s fur…” Honestly, humans get so worked up about bugs. “It’s a scarab,” Pharaoh explained. “The sacred creature is often with Ra these days. It’s a great mark of divine favor.” “Did you hear that, Ra?” a tiny voice called out from between my ears. “I’m a mark of divine favor.” “You don’t say?” I sampled a morsel of the roast mutton Pharaoh’s servants had kindly provided. “And here I thought you were simply my buddy.” “Just what I need,” the Vizier muttered under his breath. “A spoiled cat with a dung beetle on his head.” He was bent so low that he must have thought no one could hear him. But Pharaoh’s face darkened. “What did you say, Vizier?” The Vizier glanced up in alarm and offered Pharaoh a weak smile. “O Ruler of Rulers, I said…er…it’s just what I need—a royal cat with a sacred beetle on his head.” He patted me, avoiding the spot that Khepri occupied. “What could be a better omen for the day?” “Indeed.” Pharaoh regarded me with affection. “Ra is the ideal traveling companion. May Amon-Ra guard you both on your journey.” Giving me a last wave, he turned away. The six bearers hoisted the litter to shoulder height. “Where’s Miu?” Khepri whispered anxiously. A mottled ball of fur vaulted into the litter. “Sorry,” Miu said. “I had to chase down a rat.” The Vizier looked in disgust at Miu. “I suppose you’re under royal protection, too.” Glancing out at Pharaoh’s retreating back, he nudged us all away from him. “If I see so much as a single cat hair on my robes, you’ll all pay the price. And I’m not going to even mention the word dung.” You just did, I thought, and I knew Khepri was thinking the same thing, because he giggled. I stretched out comfortably at the front of the litter and started shredding the Vizier’s pillows. Miu settled down beside me. The Vizier huffed and looked the other way. The litter swayed, and Khepri clicked his forelegs in delight. “We’re off to the Valley of the Kings!” The Place of Truth The sun was hot. The litter was comfy. As we crossed the Nile and journeyed into the desert, I finished the snacks and fell asleep, dreaming of stewed antelope and roast quail. “Wake up, Ra!” Khepri blared in my ear. I kept my eyes closed and tried to push him away with my paw. “Khepri, please!” One more bite of antelope… “Ra, we’re here,” Miu said. “At least, I think we are.” I opened my eyes—and wished I hadn’t. The walled, mud-brick village before me looked as dry and dusty as the cliffs behind it, a far cry from the elegance of Thebes. But I recognized the place. I’d made the trip here a few years ago, when Pharaoh selected our tomb site. “It’s Set Ma’at,” I told Khepri and Miu. “The Place of Truth.” Khepri looked confused. “I thought we were going to the Valley of the Kings.” “The Valley starts there.” I bobbed my head to indicate the high cliffs just north of us. “But Set Ma’at is where the workers live.” I turned to the crowd gathering outside the walls. “Look! They’re expecting me.” With Khepri hanging on to my neck and Miu at my heels, I went out to greet my people. A burly man with inky fingers stepped forward and bowed. He gripped a staff in one hand and a writing board in the other. “Welcome to Set Ma’at, O Lord of the Powerful Paw. We were honored to hear from Pharaoh that you were coming to visit us.” “Hey, I remember him,” I whispered to Khepri and Miu. “It’s the Scribe of the Tomb.” Have you ever met a Scribe of the Tomb? Unless you have a tomb of your own, probably not. Here’s how it works: When Pharaoh and the Vizier send orders to the tomb workers, it’s the Scribe of the Tomb who reads them and writes back. He tells the Pharaoh and Vizier their orders have been received, and he notifies them of any problems. It’s also his job to record everything that happens on the tomb site: every chisel borrowed, every absent worker, every payment made. Pharaoh also has guards in the Valley of the Kings. Their leader is the Captain of the Guard, and they watch over the tombs under construction, as well as the completed and sealed tombs. But it’s the Scribe who oversees the workers themselves. And there are a lot of them. To build a tomb, you need foremen, carpenters, stonemasons, plasterers, sculptors, goldsmiths, painters, and other artisans—and the Scribe keeps track of them all. In short, the Scribe of the Tomb has a lot of power, and this particular Scribe was the boss of Set Ma’at. His voice still booming, the Scribe bent down to Miu and the Vizier. “And welcome to the Lord of the Powerful Paw’s honorable escort.” Instead of replying, the Vizier focused on the crowd. “Look at you all, standing idle. Why aren’t you working?” “Exactly what I was about to say, my lord,” the Scribe said smoothly. “Yesterday we had our annual holiday feast to celebrate the ancient founder of Set Ma’at, but today we must get back to our normal routine—” “You took another holiday?” the Vizier growled at the crowd. “That’s not what Pharaoh pays you for.” The crowd murmured, and a gaunt man stepped forward with a paintbrush in his hand. “O Great Vizier, speaking of payment, perhaps now is the time to remind you that our wages of bread and beer were late last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” There was a murmur of agreement from the back of the crowd, but the Scribe nudged the man with his staff. “That’s enough, Pentu.” Pentu didn’t stop. “And our pay has been cut, even though we are worked harder—” “Who gave you permission to speak?” The Vizier was so angry he almost spat out the words. “If I hear you complaining about wages again, you’re fired.” He turned on the crowd. “And that goes for the rest of you, too.” Everyone went quiet. Pentu hunched his shoulders, and his paintbrush dropped to the ground. A skinny boy behind him picked it up and silently handed it back to him. “You heard the honored Vizier, everyone,” the Scribe boomed. “Back to work!” He pointed to a strapping young man near Pentu. “Except for you, Huya.” Clearly pleased to be singled out, Huya smirked and flexed his muscles. “Want me to make sure that troublemaker Pentu keeps his mouth shut, my lord Scribe? Just say the word—” “Not just now, Huya.” The Scribe ushered him over to the Vizier. “My lord, this is the carpenter Huya, the one I mentioned in my last letter. He’s been assisting me with various duties.” “Indeed?” The Vizier gave Huya a piercing glance. “I hear you’re quite capable. And discreet.” Huya’s smirk widened as he bowed low. “I’m quiet as a tomb, my lord Vizier.” “Huya has set up a place for you inside the village gates,” the Scribe explained to the Vizier. “I had him build the platform in the cool of the wall, where the light is good. You need only escort Pharaoh’s Cat there, and our best artists will begin their work.” The Vizier didn’t even look at me. Snapping his fingers, he called the nearest boy over, the skinny one who had picked up Pentu’s paintbrush. “You, there. Carry the cat where he’s supposed to go.” “But—” “Don’t argue!” the Vizier barked. Shoulders tense, the boy bent down to me. He was about the age of Pharaoh’s oldest son—eleven or so, with long fingers, a long neck, and alert, hungry eyes. “He looks like Pentu, don’t you think?” Khepri whispered. “Hmmm. Yes,” I agreed. If they were related, no wonder the Vizier made him tense. Once the Vizier swept past, the boy smiled at me and held out his arms. “O Gracious Pharaoh’s Cat, if you would do me the honor—” I’m not thrilled about being carried by strangers. But I didn’t want the boy to get in trouble, so I let him scoop me up. To my relief, he knew exactly what he was doing. Honestly, the boy could have a job as an official cat carrier. “My mother liked cats,” he whispered to me. “I don’t remember much about her, but I do remember that. So I like them, too.” Moments later, we entered the village gate. Inside its high outer walls, Set Ma’at was just as cramped and busy as I remembered, with dusty houses packed tight together. Water carriers and workmen jostled in narrow, noisy alleys that smelled of wood fires and kitchen scraps. “Ah!” The Scribe caught up to us. “Kenamon, I see you’ve made the acquaintance of Pharaoh’s Cat already. Very good!” He ushered us toward a platform near the gate. “Now set him down on that pedestal there—the one in the sunshine that Huya set up—and get out your tablet and paint box. I expect to see some very fine work from you today.” As Kenamon settled me on my pedestal, I stared up at him in surprise. This boy was my portrait painter? Trouble If I was surprised, so was the Vizier. As he sat down near my pedestal, he said, “That child is far too young for the job, Scribe. What is he, ten?” “Almost twelve, my lord,” the Scribe said. “And the best painter I have ever seen. He began working in the tombs last year, and last month I hired him myself, to paint my dear pet Menwi.” Setting down his staff and writing board, he seated himself and offered the Vizier sweetmeats and wine. The wine didn’t interest me, but it smelled like there was spiced goose on that tray, and that was enough to drive me wild. Would anyone think to offer me some? Not the Vizier. Popping a morsel into his mouth, he stared hard at the artist boy, who was unpacking materials from a box on the ground. “He looks like that troublemaker. The one in the crowd.” “They are father and son,” the Scribe admitted, “but the boy has never caused any difficulties.” He let his voice drop, but that was no problem for me. Cats hear everything. “The father spent too much on medicine when his wife was ill, so they struggle. But that is to our advantage, my lord. To make extra money, the boy will undertake almost any commission in his spare time. You could hire him to do work for your own tomb, my lord, and at very cheap rates—” “You interest me, Scribe. Let us see what the boy can do.” Still staring at Kenamon, the Vizier selected another morsel from the plate. When the Scribe scoffed a piece, too, I mewed softly, but they ignored me. “At first, I expect the boy will make only sketches,” the Scribe said. “The painting will come later. But it will be marvelous, I promise you.” Huya had been chatting quietly with another carpenter. Now he came up to the Scribe and bowed. The smirk was back again, and he had the air of someone bursting with a secret. “If I might have a quick word, my lord Scribe? And with you, too, my lord Vizier—” I missed what he had to say because another well-built man, his fingers coated in clay, came up and bowed to me. He was older than Huya, and I was pleased to see no trace whatsoever of a smirk on his face. His deep-set eyes were serious, but I saw kindness there. He laid a leathery scrap of dried pork in front of me. “O Great Pharaoh’s Cat, Lord of the Powerful Paw, I am the sculptor Bek. I am honored to have been given the task of carving your statue. Please accept my offering.” To be honest, dried pork doesn’t meet my usual snack standards. But the Vizier had just snarfed up the last of the spiced goose, so I gave Bek points for trying. “You’re going to eat that?” Khepri said in surprise as I bit into it. “Just to be polite,” I said. The pork wasn’t as awful as I feared. Maybe the desert air had improved it. Or maybe I was just hungry. When I licked my lips, Bek smiled at me. “Now, Great Pharaoh’s Cat, I must begin my work. If you could just sit up?” He put out his hands to arrange me, but I got there before him, tucking my hindquarters and raising my head high. Bek beamed at me. “Yes, that’s perfect.” Retreating to a table that had been set up for him, he began shaping a lump of clay that was almost exactly the size of my head. I looked from him to Pentu and back again. Both of them were completely focused on me. How wonderful! “Hold that pose,” Bek breathed, and I went still. “Bek’s work will be a wonder,” the Scribe said to the Vizier. “He’s the finest sculptor in Set Ma’at, as his father was before him, and his father’s father, all the way down his line. For centuries, every Pharaoh has chosen the family to work on his tomb.” I kept my face as serene as possible, hoping Bek could see how I resembled my illustrious ancestor, the cat goddess Bastet. “Hey, look at what Kenamon’s doing!” Khepri propped himself on my ear for a better view. “It looks just like you, Ra.” Oh, the agony! I wanted to see the sketch-in-progress, but to get a decent portrait and sculpture I had to stay motionless. I let out a tiny mewl of frustration. Almost as if he understood, the boy Kenamon tilted his tablet so I could see. “Look,” Khepri whispered joyfully. “He’s put me in there, too.” It was indeed a portrait of both of us—and what a portrait it was. Not only had the boy conveyed my innate majesty, but he’d made Khepri look like he really was a mark of divine favor. Quite a feat, if you ask me. As Kenamon went back to work, a barrel-chested man strode past Huya the carpenter, who scowled at him. Twirling his fingers, which were covered with rings, the stranger swept a fancy bow in front of the Vizier. “Neferhotep the goldsmith, my lord. I’m here to copy the collar of Pharaoh’s Cat.” “Copy it?” The Vizier frowned. “Why?” Neferhotep twiddled his fingers again. “So that his statue can be properly decorated, my lord. May I remove the collar now?” I stifled a wail. That strand of gold and beads was a gift from Pharaoh himself. I’d had it since I was a kitten. “If that’s what you need to do, then do it,” the Vizier ordered. “Immediately. We don’t have all day.” Neferhotep’s restless fingers twitched in my fur, and the collar fell away. Without it, I didn’t quite feel like myself. Not that anyone seemed to notice. Certainly not Miu, who appeared beneath my pedestal. “Well, now that Ra is settled in, maybe you and I will go explore,” she said to Khepri. “Sure.” Khepri hopped down to her. “Next stop, the Valley of the Kings!” “Wait,” I said through my half-frozen mouth. “You were going to entertain me, remember?” “We’ll tell you all about our adventures when we get back,” Khepri said cheerfully. A moment later, they were gone, and I was miffed. How could my friends leave me alone like this? But as I sat there feeling sorry for myself, I wasn’t as alone as I thought. “Wowee. Is that perfume I smell?” An enormous, tiger-striped tomcat swaggered into sight. Brushing past Bek, who smiled down at him, he sauntered up to my pedestal. “Well, if it isn’t Lord Fancypaws himself, right here in Set Ma’at.” Lord Fancypaws? Was he talking about me? I couldn’t do much to put him in his place, not when I needed to hold my pose, but I let my fur rise, to show him who was boss. “The correct title is Pharaoh’s Cat, Lord of the Powerful Paw.” “You don’t say?” The cat’s voice was rough around the edges, but he had presence, and his green eyes were laughing at me. “We desert cats don’t pay too much attention to titles.” “And who are you?” I asked. “I’m Sabu. I’m the leader around here, Fancypaws.” “The name is Pharaoh’s Cat,” I corrected him, between gritted teeth. Before I could say more, Miu ran up to me, Khepri clinging to her neck fur. “Ra, I was just talking to some local cats, and I heard the most wonderful news.” Seeing Sabu, she stopped. “Oh my goodness, it’s true. Sabu, what are you doing here?” “Miu?” Sabu sounded pleased as could be. “It’s been too long.” I stared in dismay as they touched whiskers in greeting. “Miu, you know this cat?” “Of course, Ra.” She gave Sabu a fond look. “He’s my cousin.” “Seventh cousin, twice removed, on our mothers’ side,” Sabu confirmed. (Cats care about details like that.) “But we haven’t seen each other since I was a tiny kitten,” Miu added, touching her whiskers to Sabu’s again. “The last I knew, Sabu, you were going out into the world to seek adventure.” “And you were headed off to the palace,” Sabu said. “I’ve always wondered how that worked out.” “I’ve been happy there,” Miu told him. “As you can see, I found friends. And you’ve made your home here?” “I live with Bek, the best craftsman in the village.” Sabu tilted his head toward the sculptor. I couldn’t help challenging him. “Kenamon’s pretty good, too, from what I’ve seen.” “Kenamon?” Sabu dismissed this. “He’s good, but he’s just a kid. He likes to monkey around. Bek is a master of his craft.” He looked back at the sculptor with affection. “I know what I’m talking about. I’ve been with him for years now.” “I’d love to hear more,” Miu said. “If you’ve got time, maybe you could show us the area? Khepri and I thought we might visit the Valley of the Kings, but we weren’t sure which path to take.” Before Sabu could reply, there was a commotion outside the gate. It sounded like a crowd was gathering. “What’s going on?” the Vizier demanded. “It had better not be another party, Scribe.” “No, my lord.” The Scribe turned to the carpenter, who was still by his side. “Huya, put a stop to this. Tell them the Vizier is displeased.” Huya was in midstride when the crowd came through the gate. At their head was a young guard in a dusty loincloth, carrying a sharp spear. “My lords!” The guard stumbled toward the Scribe and the Vizier. “A tomb has been robbed!” Protector of the Dead “Tomb robbers!” I jumped off my pedestal, tail bristling. “Let me at them!” If there’s anything lower than a tomb robber, I don’t know what it is. Ordinary thieves are bad enough, but tomb robbers mess up your afterlife. I’m talking eternal damage. It’s beyond despicable. Tail still on high alert, I pointed myself toward the gate. “I’ll track them down, wherever they are. They’ll learn not to cross Ra the Mighty—” “Hush, Ra!” Miu cut me off. “Listen to the guard.” “It’s true, my lords!” The guard’s spear shook. “I tell you, the god Anubis was seen in the Valley last night. He attacked our men, and then he entered a tomb.” The Scribe and the Vizier both turned pale, and so did Kenamon. Huya stopped smirking, and Neferhotep’s hands shook. The sculptor Bek even went so far as to snatch up Sabu in his arms, as if to protect him. Anubis has that effect on people. He’s the jackal-headed guide of the afterlife, the protector of the dead, the weigher of souls. Of all the gods in Egypt, he’s the spookiest. But I’d never heard of him robbing a tomb before. “Isn’t Anubis supposed to guard the tombs?” I whispered to Miu and Khepri. “He certainly is,” Miu agreed. “If you ask me, the whole story sounds fishy. Why would Anubis rob a tomb? It’s humans who do that. I wonder what really happened.” “It’s a Great Mystery!” Khepri said gleefully. “Even you can’t deny it this time, Ra.” It was true. I couldn’t. Though part of me wished I could. There was always the chance that Anubis was involved, and he’s one god you don’t want to mess with. “Er…maybe we should let the Vizier handle this,” I said. “The Vizier?” Khepri slid down Miu’s fur and landed at my feet. “Ra, it’s a royal tomb robbery. And you’re Pharaoh’s Cat. You have a responsibility here.” My tail was no longer bristling, but I had to admit he was right. A royal tomb robbery was exactly the kind of case Pharaoh’s Cat ought to take. “All right, all right,” I conceded. “We’ll investigate. For a bit, anyway.” “Hooray!” Khepri raced up to my head. “Quick! The guard’s taking the Vizier and the Scribe to the scene of the crime. Huya’s going, too. Let’s go with them.” In the end, we hitched a ride on the Vizier’s litter. Not that the Vizier approved. “Stay out of my way, you beasts,” he grunted. Ignoring him, I dug my claws into a prize cushion and watched the sculptor Bek stroke Sabu and hand-feed him small morsels. Sabu took them like a ruler accepting tribute. Probably just more bits of dried-up pork, I told myself. Nothing that could excite the discerning palate of Pharaoh’s Cat. But my stomach growled anyway. How come Sabu’s getting snacks and I’m not? I turned as the Scribe approached, hoping he would refill my snack bowls. Instead he pushed Kenamon toward us. “Take the boy with you, Vizier. He can draw pictures of the damage to the tomb. I’ll need them for my records and reports.” The Vizier looked down his nose at Kenamon. “Can’t he walk with you, Scribe?” “The guard and I can keep up with you, and so can Huya,” the Scribe said. “But the boy will slow us down.” “Very well.” The Vizier gestured for Kenamon to board. “Sit with the cats, boy.” Kenamon seemed pleased to join us. For his benefit, I struck a magnificent pose and held it. The boy reached for his paint box, and I saw admiration in his eyes. It was almost as good as a snack. We were halfway down the Valley of the Kings when I realized that something terrible had happened. “My collar!” I meowed in distress. “We left it in Set Ma’at.” “Don’t worry,” Khepri said. “It’s not like it’s missing. Neferhotep is looking after it.” That didn’t make me feel any better. My necklace wasn’t supposed to be in the goldsmith’s twitchy hands. It was supposed to be on my neck. “It’s probably safer in Set Ma’at, anyway,” Miu pointed out. “If you lost it in these cliffs, you’d never find it again.” “You’re missing the point,” I protested. “That collar is part of me. It was a gift from Pharaoh.” Miu looked askance at me. “You know, Ra, cats don’t need jewelry.” “This one does,” I said miserably. Oh, slender gold chain! Oh, little gold beads that go clink! “If you had any yourself, you’d understand.” “Well, I don’t,” Miu said. “And somehow I survive.” “Same here,” Khepri chirped. “Cheer up, Ra.” I wasn’t consoled, and when we reached the site of the attack, I felt even worse. It was so hot my fur almost blistered. “Ouch!” I picked up my paws as fast as I put them down. “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” From his perch between my ears, Khepri urged me on. “Follow Miu. She’s doing just fine.” “Miu’s a kitchen cat,” I told him. “She’s used to heat.” “You’ll get used to it, too,” Khepri assured me. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one scorching his paws on the ovenhot cliffs. One more painful step, and then I was saved: Kenamon scooped me up. “Forgive the liberty, Ra the Mighty, but you look like you need help.” It was a liberty, and in ordinary circumstances I couldn’t have permitted it. But as it was, I forgave him right away. What a thoughtful boy! Lolling in Kenamon’s arms, I asked Khepri, “Who’s that between the Vizier and the Scribe? He looks just like Huya.” Well, not exactly alike, since this man was half a head taller and his mouth wasn’t twisted in a smirk. Still, the resemblance was strong. “That’s the Captain of the Guard,” Khepri told me. “Shhh. He’s talking about the attack.” In his rumpled uniform, the Captain looked as if he’d been up all night. “That’s where we found the guards, left for dead,” he said, pointing up the cliff. “When did they go missing?” the Scribe asked. He had propped his staff between two rocks, and he was jotting down notes on his writing board. The Captain rubbed his nose, looking embarrassed. “It’s…er…hard to say. Things were a bit irregular last night, what with the holiday and the feast.” “I don’t believe it.” The Vizier looked outraged. “Is there anyone in this place who believes in doing his job?” “Oh, we went out on patrol, my lord,” the Captain said hastily. “We’re short-staffed right now, but we know our duty. It’s just that we thought those two guards were taking shelter from the sandstorm that hit in the small hours of the night. When they were still absent this morning, we sent out a search party. They were in bad shape when we found them.” “And what’s all this about Anubis?” the Vizier asked. “Both men say they saw the god right before they were struck, my lord. And one saw treasure in the god’s hands.” The Vizier’s eyes narrowed. “I want to question them.” “They’re not here, my lord,” the Captain said patiently. “They’re recovering from their injuries at the guard post—” “Send for them,” the Vizier barked. “Now.” After the Captain reluctantly gave the order, the Scribe asked, “Which tomb was robbed?” “I can’t say for certain,” the Captain admitted. “The sandstorm has covered up any footprints, and the entrance seals are intact on every tomb we’ve checked so far. There’s no damage anywhere. But we found this.” He pulled a gold ring from his pouch and passed it to the Scribe. “I think I’ve read the writing on it properly, but I’m no expert.” The Scribe examined it. “This is from the tomb of Setnakht.” Setnakht? That was one of my Pharaoh’s distinguished forefathers, owner of Pamiu, my ancestor. Both Setnakht and Pamiu had been legends in their day, and the sarcophagus that held Pamiu’s mummy was supposed to be legendary, too. Fashioned from gold and wood, it was said to resemble a living cat, with golden fur and eyes of glowing amber. “Setnakht, eh?” The Captain nodded. “I thought that’s what it said. We checked his tomb, and it’s still sealed tight, but someone must have found another way in. We’ll need to open the seals and see what else has been stolen—with your permission, my lords.” Instead of answering, the Scribe passed the ring to the Vizier. The Vizier clenched the ring in his fist. “Captain, how can you ask us to disturb Setnakht’s sacred place of rest? For all we know, this ring never entered the tomb. Perhaps it was misplaced when Setnakht was buried, more than a century ago.” “It was found out in the open, near one of the attacked men,” the Captain said. “It’s unlikely it’s been sitting there for a century, my lord. This area is patrolled regularly, and work crews pass through here. And gold catches the light.” The Vizier scowled. The Scribe crossed out something on his writing board. “No one wishes to violate the sacred seals of a tomb,” the Captain went on. “But if a robbery is suspected, we must act. If you cannot give permission, I must go to Pharaoh himself.” The Vizier reddened, though I couldn’t tell if it was with embarrassment or anger. “Very well,” he snapped. “Open the tomb.” If the Vizier was red-faced to begin with, he turned positively purple when they finally unsealed the tomb. Our eyes had barely adjusted to the dim torchlight in the inner chamber when he began wailing. “Thieves! Traitors! Heretics! They’ve disturbed Setnakht’s eternal rest! They’ve robbed him of his treasures!” From my perch in Kenamon’s arms, I stared in shock at the tomb. It was a wreck. The thieves had stripped the statues of their gold. They’d hacked at the gilded furniture, probably to get jewels. Worst of all, they’d pried open the enormous stone sarcophagus that held Setnakht’s mummy, and they’d yanked off his priceless amulets and collar. “They even took his heart scarab,” Khepri said softly, looking at the mummy’s bare chest. Placed on a mummy’s heart, the scarab-shaped stone was supposed to ease his way into the afterlife. Setnakht’s heart scarab would have been large, and probably made of jasper or amethyst. Very valuable, in short. “Sacrilege!” the Vizier screamed, and I had to agree. But then, when I jumped down to the floor, I saw something even worse. “Khepri!” I cried “Miu!” Miu rushed to my side. Khepri clutched at my fur. “What is it, Ra?” I pointed with a trembling paw. “Look!” I had to shield my own eyes from the sight. “My great ancestor Pamiu—that’s his mummy dumped on the floor. The robbers stole his golden sarcophagus!” On the Hunt I forced myself to look again at the helpless cat mummy. The ears were broken, the bandages loose. Across time and space, I seemed to hear Pamiu’s voice: Avenge me, Ra the Mighty. See that justice is done. How could I ignore a call like that? “The Great Detective is on the case,” I promised out loud. Khepri coughed. “Great Detectives, you mean.” “That’s right,” Miu agreed. “We’re a team.” True. We’d settled on that after our last case. “But this feels personal,” I told them. “It’s my ancestor lying there. So it’s my duty to take charge.” “We’re in this together.” Swishing her tail, Miu stepped toward Pamiu’s desecrated mummy. “Do you think I’m not upset, Ra? A cat is a cat.” “But this cat was special,” I reminded her. “After all, not every Pharaoh’s Cat gets a golden sarcophagus. That honor is granted only to the very best, and the most beloved.” In a low voice, I confessed, “To tell the truth, I’m kind of hoping for one myself.” Miu sighed and glanced up at Khepri, and I went back to staring at Pamiu’s poor tattered mummy. No doubt the robbers would strip his wonderful sarcophagus of its amber eyes and melt down the rest for the gold. The humans took a while to catch up to us, but eventually the Scribe discovered Pamiu’s mummy. “Vizier, look at this. The cat’s sarcophagus was stolen, too. Another priceless object gone!” “Make a list, Scribe. Make a list.” Recovering from his initial outrage, the Vizier roved around the burial chamber. “Put down everything missing, everything that looks out of place. And above all, find where the thieves broke in. We can’t catch them till we know how they did the job.” Instead of sitting down with his writing board, the Scribe jabbed his staff at Kenamon. “You there. Start sketching. I want a record of all the damage we see.” “There’s no sign of entry anywhere,” the Captain said, still scanning the walls. “I don’t understand how they did it.” As he lowered his flaming torch, the chamber darkened, creating a distinctly spooky atmosphere. “Anoooooooooooooobis.” It was the faintest breath of a whisper, but my fur stood on end when I heard it. Everyone stopped in their tracks, and the Vizier and the Scribe stared at each other wild-eyed. Miu nudged me. She was watching Kenamon, and I noticed he was the one human who didn’t look scared. He even had a twinkle in his eyes. I remembered how Sabu had said the boy liked to monkey around. Did that mean he played jokes? Was he the whisperer? Or was it the god of the dead, warning us away? I glanced back at the tunnel entrance, then gasped in alarm. Two stifflegged figures were coming toward us, moaning a little, their cloth wrappings fluttering in the eerie light of the flames. “Mummies!” Wailing, I darted behind a canopic jar. “Vizier,” said the Captain, “these are the guards who were attacked on the cliffs.” Oh. “An easy mistake to make,” I told Khepri, who was chortling on top of my head. “All those bandages are very misleading.” I came out of hiding. “Tell the Vizier what happened to you,” the Captain prompted the men. Nursing his arm in a sling, the taller man kept his head bent, as if it pained him. “We were out on patrol together, my lord. It was a moonless night, so it wasn’t an easy job. But we had the stars.” He stopped and bit his lip. “Go on,” said the Captain. The man’s head drooped even lower. “Just after midnight, we heard jackals howling in this canyon. They don’t usually make that much noise, so we thought we’d better investigate. And then they turned on us—dozens of jackals, all at once, running straight for us and splitting us up. I climbed to get away from them, but when I turned…” The man shut his eyes, as if he didn’t want to remember. “What?” the Vizier demanded. “I saw a huge jackal’s head.” The petrified man could barely get the words out. “It was the god Anubis, and he was angry. And that’s the last thing I remember.” The shorter man had a bandaged head and a tightly wrapped leg. “I ran, too, my lord. But then I heard a cry. That’s when I saw the great god Anubis, rising up before me, his hands full of gold and jewels.” His voice shook at the memory. “The p-power of the god overcame me, and he wiped my mind blank. The rest is gone.” The Vizier looked unnerved. So did the Scribe. To tell the truth, I was feeling a little unnerved myself. I looked at Kenamon. He seemed as spooked as the rest of us. The twinkle was gone. “I don’t know what to think.” The Captain glanced around the tomb uneasily. “We questioned the men separately, of course, but the details match. And they both swear their testimony is true.” The torch flickered, and the chamber grew darker still. In the uncanny setting, it was easy to imagine a dark, wolfish face looming against the night sky. As the silence stretched out, you could almost hear the jackal god’s stealthy footsteps coming our way. I shivered. Khepri dropped down to the floor, as if he needed the comfort of solid ground beneath him. Even Miu looked unsettled. “Could it be true?” The Captain’s voice was hushed. “Does Anubis walk this Valley?” The Vizier stared at the wall painting beside him, of the black-headed jackal god weighing the hearts of the dead. My eyes were fixed on it, too. “The tomb was sealed.” The Vizier sounded faint. “And we have found no other entrance.” “Only a god could enter,” the Scribe whispered. He and the Vizier gave each other a long, uncertain look. “I need fresh air.” Pressing a hand to his sweaty forehead, the Vizier stumbled toward the tunnel. With a shudder, the Scribe followed him out, gripping his staff tightly and clutching his writing board close to his chest. I crouched down, trying to avoid the golden eyes of the Anubis painting. No one is braver than Pharaoh’s Cat, of course. My friends always say so. (Well, not Khepri and Miu. But everyone else.) Yet a god is a god, and a cat’s powers can hardly compare. Our purr can make you humans talk, but that’s all we have. And that isn’t much help when you’re dealing with the guardian of the afterlife. “Honestly, this whole Anubis business gives me the creeps,” I said to Miu and Khepri. “How about we leave right now?” Khepri clicked at me in reproof. “We’re Great Detectives, Ra. We don’t let our fears get the better of us. We search out the truth.” “That’s right,” Miu agreed. “We need to look for evidence—cold, hard facts.” “Fine,” I said, still crouching. “How about we look for them outside?” “Ra, if we go out, they might not let us back in,” Khepri said. “We need to search this tomb while we can.” “If you’re scared, you don’t have to stay,” Miu said reassuringly. “We’ll get the job done and meet you outside.” “Who’s scared?” I forced myself to stand up. If anyone was going to avenge Pamiu, it was going to be me. “It’s just that it’s kind of dark in here, and stuffy.” And spooky. “Let’s see if we can work out how the robbers got in.” Khepri scrambled toward the corner of the room. “Check the walls, especially down low. Oh, and the floors. Humans never pay proper attention to floors.” The Captain and his men and Huya were examining the main chamber and the tunnel that led to it, but Khepri was right: they weren’t paying much attention to anything below their knees. Only Kenamon seemed to be inspecting everything, and he was making very slow work of it. Khepri, Miu, and I got down to business. We paced the perimeter of the chamber, keeping out of the way of the humans, sniffing (me and Miu) and scuttling (Khepri) as we went. We were under a gilded chair, examining a section of floor the humans had skipped over, when I said, “You know, this is hard work.” Miu pressed her nose to a crack between two stones. “The kind of work that makes you hungry,” I said. Click, click, click, went Khepri. “The kind of work,” I said dreamily, “that makes you wish you had a bowl of spiced ibex right in front of you.” I closed my eyes, imagining it. “Seasoned with cumin, and just a touch of cinnamon. I tell you, I can practically smell it right now.” “That’s funny.” Miu sat up, alert. “I can smell cinnamon, too.” “Aha!” Khepri pounced. “Look at this!” He waved a tiny crumb above his head. “Our first clue,” he announced. A Hole in the Wall Miu and I sniffed at Khepri’s find. “It’s a smidgen of spiced meat. Goose, maybe?” Miu theorized. “Yes,” I agreed. “Heavy on the cinnamon, with a dusting of cumin. Not what they’d serve at the palace, but not bad, either. And it smells pretty fresh, too.” “If you ask me, it smells disgusting,” Khepri said, backing away from it. “Honestly, I don’t know how anyone can choke that stuff down. Especially when you could be eating dung instead.” “Look on the bright side,” I told him. “It means more dung for you.” “That’s true.” Khepri brightened. “Hey, I think there’s another bit by the wall.” Miu retrieved it, and we took a look. It was just like the other one, only a little bigger and stickier. “Well, I think we can rule out Anubis as the thief,” Miu said. “Unless Anubis eats cinnamon-spiced goose,” I added. “Unlikely,” Khepri said, and I had to agree. Miu was sniffing at a half-column in the wall behind the chair. “You know, this smells like cinnamon, too.” “What does?” Khepri asked. “I’m not sure,” Miu admitted. “It’s almost as if the smell is coming from the place where the column joins with the wall.” Khepri and I went over to have a look and a sniff. “That’s interesting,” Khepri said. “The mortar’s loose there. See?” He started scrabbling. Miu and I were watching him closely when my ears swiveled in alarm. I backed away from the wall. “Miu? I’ve got a bad feeling…” “Not Anubis again.” She didn’t even look around. “No.” My tail twitched. “It’s a—” The chamber erupted in barking as a gray beast barreled toward us, shattering a row of canopic jars. A guard pulled at the beast’s leash. “He’s found something!” “DOG!” I screeched as the beast sprang forward. “No!” Kenamon shouted, leaping up. “Stop!” Khepri pulled out of sight. Miu and I leaped onto the back of the chair, claws at the ready. Hisssssssssss! As Kenamon jumped in front of us, the gray dog reared up, brought to heel by the leash. “It’s just two cats,” the guard said, disappointed. “It’s Pharaoh’s Cat,” Kenamon explained to the guard. “And his friend.” The dog hung his head. “Whoops,” he muttered. “Guess I got a little overexcited.” “Get that dog out of here,” the Captain ordered from the other side of the room. “This place is enough of a wreck as it is. We don’t need any more damage.” As the guard dragged at the leash, the dog waggled his perky ears at me in farewell. “Didn’t realize you were Pharaoh’s Cat. Sorry about that.” “Whew!” I said to Miu, after the dog had gone. “That was a close call.” “I don’t see Khepri,” Miu said anxiously. “Khepri?” I leaped down to look for him. “Hey, buddy, are you there?” Khepri popped out from behind the half-column, covered with debris. “I’ve found it!” He waved his forelegs in triumph. “I’ve found the way in!” He pointed to the tiny hole in the wall behind him. “There!” Miu studied the hole. “A way in for a beetle, maybe,” she said. “But a human’s a little bigger, Khepri.” “Wait!” A thought struck me. Maybe I had cracked the case. “What if the robbers were beetles?” “Ra, that doesn’t make any sense.” Khepri dusted himself off. “Anyway, I’ve found a way in for humans. This whole big block by the column is loose. Someone’s recently packed it back in. And get this: there’s a hole behind it, and then another loose block. And if you get around that block— which you can, because it’s been moved, too—then you’re in a different tomb. An abandoned one.” “Are you sure?” I crouched down to look, but all I could see was the tiny hole. “Of course I’m sure,” Khepri said indignantly. “Then we need to let the humans know,” Miu said. “I think Kenamon already suspects something.” I looked up and saw the boy staring down at us, and at the tiny hole. “Maybe he’ll bring the other humans over,” Khepri said. But the boy turned away and said nothing. “I think he didn’t understand,” Miu said. “Then you two need to bring the other humans over,” Khepri said. “I’ll help, if I can.” Miu raced over to the Captain and rubbed against his shins. I sauntered in front of him, pointing my tail toward the wall. He waved us away. Honestly, humans are terrible at communication. Next we tried standing by the wall and meowing. “Put those cats out!” the Captain ordered. “I’ve had enough of their antics.” The next thing we knew, the guards had kicked us out of the tomb. “Well, how do you like that?” Blinking in the bright sunlight, I nudged down my fur where the guards had ruffled it. “We were only trying to help.” Miu was licking herself clean. “I’m afraid those humans don’t deserve us.” “No, they don’t,” Khepri agreed. “But we’re not going to let them keep the Great Detectives from cracking this case. Let’s find that abandoned tomb I saw. I didn’t get a chance to check it for clues.” We picked our way past the Vizier and the Scribe, who were whispering and glaring at each other. “The other tomb should be below and to the north of this one,” Khepri said, urging me down the cliffside. “At least that’s my guess.” “There.” Miu bobbed her head. “That cleft in the rocks. Could that be it?” I darted forward. “Let’s find out.” Sure enough, it was the entrance to a tomb. “There’s nothing to stop us just walking in,” Miu said as we entered the dark tunnel. “The seal is missing.” “Probably because thieves damaged it beyond repair,” I said. “That’s the usual reason.” As we left sunlight far behind, I started to feel jumpy. “Don’t worry,” Khepri said. “It’ll get light again when we get to the burial chamber.” “No, it won’t.” I set him straight. “The whole point of a burial chamber is that it’s buried, Khepri. As in, underground. As in, no light.” “This one has light,” Khepri insisted. “Nonsense,” I said. But he was right. There was a hole in the burial chamber roof. It had been patched up with a slab of stone that didn’t quite fit, so bright sunlight poured in around the edges. Miu climbed up a wide, half-broken ledge to get a better look. “The hole doesn’t look new,” she reported. “I guess that’s how the original robbers got in.” “And then they burned the place.” The tomb had been swept out, but I could smell the soot. “They do that sometimes, after they ransack the treasure. It gets rid of the evidence.” Not that I’d ever actually seen a tomb robber set fire to anything. But you learn a lot when you sit in Pharaoh’s lap, listening to his viziers drone on. Khepri slid down my back and tail to the floor and scuttled over to the nearest wall. “There! What did I tell you?” He tapped a block that was not quite aligned with the others. “That’s the block that was moved.” “And here’s another bit of dried meat,” said Miu, her nose to the ground. “So many clues!” I was pleased. “We’ll have this case cracked before you know it.” “I’m not sure.” Miu sounded worried. “First we have to get the humans in here. And then we have to get them to pay attention. I don’t know how we’re going to do that.” I didn’t like to admit it, but neither did I. “I’ve got an idea,” Khepri said. “What is it?” I asked. “You’re fast, aren’t you, Ra?” “As fast as they come,” I said modestly. “And clever?” “As clever as they—” I stopped and narrowed my eyes at Khepri. “Wait a minute. What are you asking me to do?” An Inside Job “You should get the dog to chase you,” Khepri said. “Lure him into the tomb.” I blinked. “You want that beast to chase me?” “Yes,” Khepri said cheerily. “If he corners you in here, then the guards will have to come in to sort things out. They’ll see that the block is out of place, and then—” “And then I’ll be that dog’s dinner,” I finished. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this, Khepri. Did you see his teeth?” “He’ll never catch you, Ra. You’re too fast for that. And too clever.” “I’m clever enough to say no,” I told him. Khepri went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “You’d leap up on that half-broken ledge, and the guards would rescue you, and then they’d give you snacks to revive you—” “Snacks?” I reconsidered my position. “You think they’d do that?” “Of course,” Khepri said. “You’ll be half fainting in their arms, and it will be their dog’s fault. They’ll have to make it up to you. You’re Pharaoh’s Cat.” “Hmmm…” I thought this over. “Well, all right then. But I’m not doing this alone, Khepri. You have to sit on my head and be the lookout.” “Done.” Khepri scrambled up to my head. “Now let’s plan our attack—” “We’ll come in from the side,” I suggested. “A head-on attack would be better,” Khepri maintained. “Head-on? With a dog? Khepri—” “You two are taking too long.” Miu dashed back down the tunnel. “Hey, wait!” I wasn’t going to be robbed of my glory—or my snacks. I bounded after her as fast as I could go. The momentum carried me out to the cliffside, where I passed Miu and headed straight for the dog. “Go get him, Ra!” Khepri hollered in my ear. “You bet I will!” I hollered back. The gray beast was standing at attention by a clutch of guards. I sideswiped him, kicking up a cloud of dust right under his nose. “Catch me if you can!” I bellowed, and then my feet went out from under me in a scree of loose stones. I landed right under the dog’s nose. “Yikes!” Khepri shrieked. “Get up, Ra!” Dazed, I rolled over, but that only gave me a close-up view of the dog’s mouth, opening wide. I shut my eyes, sure it was the end. “Sorry,” the dog said gruffly. “But I can’t.” I blinked. “What?” The dog looked abashed. “No offense, Great Pharaoh’s Cat. It’s kind of you to offer to play a game with me, especially after the way I treated you earlier. But I have to say no. I’m on duty, you see. And besides, I’m on a leash.” “Oh.” I sneaked a look. The rope leash blended in with the cliffside, but it was definitely there. As Miu trotted up, I rolled to my feet, just out of leash range. “Er…no offense taken. I was…trying to be friendly.” “Maybe on my off hours?” the dog said eagerly. “I could play then.” “Er…” I stalled for an answer. “That’s too late,” Miu whispered to me. “We need help now.” “She’s right,” Khepri mumbled in my ear. “I think we need a new plan. This one isn’t working.” “What’s that you’re talking about?” the dog asked, cocking his head to one side. “Something about a plan?” Pharaoh’s Cat is a keen judge of character, and up close I could see that this dog was a very obliging sort of fellow. So, then and there, I decided to take him into my confidence. “You’re right, I’m Pharaoh’s Cat,” I said. “And you are…?” “Boo,” the dog said proudly. “Faithful servant of the Captain of the Guard and his men.” “We have a problem, Boo,” I explained. “We’ve found some clues in another tomb—” “The one you just came out of?” the dog interrupted. “Yes.” The dog nodded wisely. “That was the tomb of Thutmose the Second. It was robbed a couple of years ago, but we tracked down the thieves. Of course, they’d melted everything down by then and set fire to what was left, so nothing could be recovered, not even the mummy. But I still think of it as Thutmose the Second’s tomb.” “Well, whatever it’s called,” I said, “we need the humans to go inspect it. Any chance you could help us?” “I’ll see what I can do,” Boo said, but he didn’t look hopeful. “Truth is, they’re not likely to let me off the leash again today, not after the mess I made earlier. And they’re too strong for me to drag them all the way there.” When we told Boo what the clues were, he was even less optimistic. “It’ll be a job getting them to notice that,” he said. “They’re not the brightest bunch, humans. And they’re worse than usual today, after feasting and drinking so late into the night.” “Did you see what happened?” Miu asked. “Last night?” Boo scratched himself. “No, I can’t say I did. I took advantage of their party to catch up on my sleep. The Captain’s had me out on night duty for weeks.” “What about this morning, during the hunt for the missing guards?” Khepri followed up. “Did you notice anything then?” “Nope. It was just the same old cliffs. There wasn’t much to see—” “Or smell?” Miu asked. “Not after that sandstorm last night,” Boo said. “Blew away all the evidence, I guess. Anyway, I’m not really a scent hound. I’m a sight hound. I track things with my eyes.” “So you didn’t smell the meat in the tomb?” I asked. Boo licked his muzzle. “There was meat?” “Only a little,” Miu said. “Goose spiced with cinnamon and a touch of cumin,” I added. “Hmmm.” Boo thought this over. “Sounds like the stew from our feast.” “Aha!” Khepri slid down my nose and hopped onto the rocks. “This may be our breakthrough. Who made the stew?” “The villagers,” Boo said. “Goose with cinnamon and a bit of cumin is a Set Ma’at specialty. On big feast days, they always cook up enough for the guards, too. They bring it up to us in big pots. We always finish it all, every scrap.” “So the stew’s a village specialty?” Khepri said thoughtfully. “That suggests the tomb robbery is an inside job.” “Yes,” I agreed, then whispered to Khepri, “Doesn’t it have to be? I mean, you can’t rob the outside of a tomb.” “Inside job is just an expression, Ra,” Khepri whispered back. “It means that the robbers come from inside the village. They aren’t from somewhere across the Nile or the desert.” “It figures,” Boo said glumly. “Lots of tomb robberies are inside jobs. The workers know all the secrets. They remember the layout and location of the tombs, and the treasures inside them, and the traps. Sometimes they even try to copy the traps in their own tombs in the cliffs by the village. But their operations aren’t run as well. If they put in a pit to catch thieves, they never make it deep enough, and their spikes are never sharp enough—” I cut across his mournful tones. “This is great.” “Great?” Miu echoed doubtfully. “I don’t see why, Ra.” “We’ve got this case almost cracked,” I said. “All we have to do is find out who had leftover stew, and we’ll have our tomb robber. Ta-dah! I bet we’ll be back at the palace for midafternoon snacks.” “It might not be that simple, Ra,” Khepri said anxiously. Poor Khepri. He’s a worrier by nature. He’s lucky he has someone like me to cheer him up. “It’ll be simple, believe me,” I said. “All we have to do is get back to the village—” I glanced around and frowned. The Vizier was nowhere in sight, and neither was his litter. “Our ride,” I said in alarm. “It’s gone!” Stay Away from the Tombs “That’s right,” Boo said, beating the ground with his tail. “The Vizier left just before you came over to visit me. He’s headed back to Set Ma’at. The Scribe and his man Huya and the boy went, too.” “Without us?” I was scandalized. “The boy went looking, but he couldn’t find you. And the Vizier said he wouldn’t wait, and that you’d find your own way back.” Boo pointed his muzzle down the Valley. “If you look down there, you can see the litter.” They were so far away that the litter was tinier than one of my toes. But at least it was still in sight. “Come on!” I scooped Khepri up with my paw and deposited him on my head. “We don’t want to miss our ride.” I raced down the cliffside. My paws burned, but I didn’t care. It was either this, or walk the whole way back. “Ra, you forgot to say good-bye,” Miu said, bounding down after me. I turned and waved to the dog. “Thanks for the help!” “Come back anytime!” Boo howled after us. “Maybe you…” I didn’t catch his last words. I was running too fast. “Ra, wait!” Miu called. I didn’t slow down, but she overtook me anyway. “You missed an invitation,” she said. “To play games at twilight.” “Fat chance.” I continued catapulting down the Valley. “I’ll be back in the palace by then, and you can bet I won’t be leaving it.” “First you have to get to Set Ma’at,” Miu pointed out. “I’m working on it.” I stopped on a rocky outcrop, panting from the heat. We’d closed some of the distance between us and the Vizier, but not enough. “Come on,” Miu said. “We’ll need to pick up the pace if we’re going to catch up with them.” The next time I looked up, the Vizier’s litter was even farther away from us than before. “They’re getting faster,” I moaned. “Actually, I think we’re getting slower,” said Miu. “It’s the heat.” “I’ll bring you up to speed,” cried Khepri. “Forward march! One, two, three, four, one two, three—” “Here’s another idea, Khepri.” Stepping on some sharp pebbles, I winced. “Why don’t you carry me?” Khepri thought that was very funny. “I’m not joking.” The sun was beating my head like a drum. “I tell you I can’t…go…on.” I expected Miu would say I had to keep running, but she slowed down, too. “I think we need a break,” she panted. “Just a short one.” Before she could change her mind, I dropped to the ground, so exhausted I didn’t see the dung pile beside me. “Wow!” Khepri leaped headfirst. “What a great lunch! If we have to stop, then this is the perfect place.” “I refuse to watch,” I told him. “Mmmmmmm,” Khepri said blissfully. “This dung has such an intriguing aroma. Not quite dog, I’d say. Wilder than that. But I’m not sure exactly what—” A howl floated across the canyon. “Anooooooooooooooooobis!” Khepri scrambled onto my back. “Wh-What was that?” I leaped up. “I don’t know. But I sure hope you wiped your feet.” “Jackals!” shrieked Miu. “Over there!” “Impossible,” I said as she bolted past me. “They don’t hunt by day.” But when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw them: half a dozen of the golden wolf-kin streaming toward us, fur shining in the sunlight. “Anooooooooooooooooobis!” Forgetting my exhaustion, I streaked down the hill after Miu, but the dusty terrain offered no cover, and we weren’t fast enough. Before we knew it, the jackals had us surrounded, caught in a dip in the path that led back to Set Ma’at. “Anooooooooooooooooobis!” The cry echoed from one baying mouth to another. Ugly laughter followed. “I hope the joke isn’t on us,” Khepri whispered. The jackals were so close that I could see the dark outline around their glowing eyes. The leader of the pack snapped his jaws, and the circle tightened. “Stay away from the toooooooooombs!” the leader warned us. “Stay away from the toooooooooombs!” They all took up the cry. Beside me, Miu was breathing very fast. She didn’t look scared anymore, just mad. “We’re not even going to the tombs,” she burst out. “If you jackals just paid attention, you’d notice we’re on our way back to the village.” “Miu!” I tried to nudge her into silence, but she shook me off. “So leave us alone,” she finished defiantly. The leader bared sharp teeth set in black gums. “Don’t you go giving me orders, cat.” He threw back his head and howled again. “Beware the jackals of Anooooooooooooooooobis!” “Anooooooooooooooooobis!” the rest of them bayed. “What’s all this about Anubis, anyway?” Miu demanded. “Do you know something about the tomb robbery?” The leader’s eyes flashed. “You don’t get to ask questions, cat.” “Oh, yes, I do,” Miu said. “I’m a Great Detective.” I saw the leader’s jaw snap. His pack took a step closer. “That’s our game!” I said quickly, making myself look as silly as possible. (It’s not easy for Pharaoh’s Cat to hide his innate intelligence and savvy, but he can if he has to.) “You’ve probably played it, too. Detectives and Tomb Robbers? Just us cats having a fun time. With our beetle.” I gave him a friendly tail salute. “But we’re ready to go home now.” The leader watched me intently. “Did I mention I’m Pharaoh’s Cat?” I added helpfully. “That means I’m under Pharaoh’s protection. Not to mention the protection of Bastet and the sun god Ra himself.” The leader got an odd look in his eye. “Pharaoh’s Cat, huh?” He conferred with his second-in-command. “Pharaoh…Bastet…Ra,” I heard them mutter. And then the second-incommand said, “Don’t worry, Chief, I hear that cat’s not so smart. Spends his time napping.” Hah! Pharaoh’s Cat is as smart as they come. I almost spoke out loud, but I remembered in time that I was supposed to be playing dumb. “All right.” The leader motioned to the pack, and they backed off. “Go home, Pharaoh’s Pussycat. Take your friends with you. But don’t you come around here again.” He raised his sharp muzzle to the sky. “Stay away from the tooooooooooooooooombs!” “Stay away from the toooooooooombs!” the pack cried. We didn’t move till they’d vanished back into the cliffs. Even then, we could still hear them howling in the distance—and sniggering and laughing. “Anooooooooooooooooobis!” “Horrible beasts,” Miu said angrily. “Who do they think they are?” “Well, they can’t be the robbers,” Khepri reasoned. “Not unless they can haul blocks of stone around.” “True. But they know something,” Miu said, looking back at the cliffs. “I’m sure of it.” “Let’s figure it out later,” I begged. “Right now, I just want to get back to Set Ma’at.” The Vizier’s litter could no longer be seen. Miu and I had to travel by paw the whole way back, step by painful step, with Khepri keeping time. I’d never walked so far in my life. “It’s not such a big deal, Ra,” Miu said. “Why, lots of cats cover this much ground every day.” “Pharaoh’s Cat doesn’t,” I croaked, my voice dried out by the heat. “Pharaoh’s Cat gets carried.” By the time we reached Set Ma’at, I was barely able to creep through the gates. “Just take me back to the palace,” I whispered. “I’ll never leave Pharaoh’s side again.” “You don’t mean that, Ra,” Khepri said. “Oh, yes, I do.” I dragged myself into the shade of a white-pillared house. “Where’s the Vizier? I want to go home.” Out of nowhere, Sabu appeared, his green eyes glowing. “The Vizier? Why, he went back to Thebes.” “He couldn’t.” I struggled up. “Not without me.” “He had to report the tomb robbery,” Sabu said. I stared at him, unable to believe it. “But the Vizier will be in trouble if he comes back without Pharaoh’s Cat.” “Oh, he took a cat with him,” Sabu said. “One that looked just like you, in fact. A friend of mine. I think he’s looking forward to palace life. Neferhotep the goldsmith even put your collar on him.” “What?!” An imposter had stolen my place? “Looks like you’re stuck here in Set Ma’at,” Sabu said cheerfully. I fainted dead away. Stranded When I came to, Khepri was bouncing across my face. “Ra?” He prodded at my cheek with his foreleg. “Ra, are you all right?” “How can I be all right?” I moaned. “I’ve been replaced by another cat! And I’ve been banished to this lousy, no-good excuse for a village—” “Shhh!” Miu flicked her ears in warning. I blinked and saw Sabu standing behind her. Judging from his offended glance, he’d heard every word. I tried to claw my way back. “I mean, I’m sure it’s fine if you grew up here—” “It’s way better than a flashy palace,” Sabu growled. “Call yourself a cat! Real cats don’t sleep on gold-embroidered pillows.” I rolled to my feet. “Hey! I don’t sleep on gold-embroidered pillows. Gold thread is much too prickly—” “That’s enough.” Miu put herself between us. “Both of you, behave.” “But I’ve just lost my home forever.” I’d never make it through the desert to Thebes on my own, even if the Nile weren’t in the way. “And I’ve lost my necklace from Pharaoh. And my snacks. My scrumptious, one-of-akind, made-just-for-me snacks.” “Very sad,” Miu said. “But you’ll live. And it won’t be forever, Ra.” “That’s right,” Khepri chimed in. “Pharaoh won’t be fooled, Ra. He won’t accept a substitute cat. He’ll send the Vizier right back for you.” “You really think so?” I said. Sabu gave a cat-shrug, but Miu brushed against me in a comforting way. “Of course, Ra,” she said. “The Vizier’s sure to come back. Maybe not right away. But soon.” Khepri settled himself against my ear. “After all, there’s no other cat like you, not in the whole of Egypt.” “True.” I cheered up. “Pharaoh can’t do without me. Not for long, anyway.” At least I hoped so. “And really, when you think about it, we’re lucky to be stranded here,” Khepri went on. “Now we have a chance to crack the case.” Lucky? I wouldn’t go that far. But he had a point. “We’d better get down to business, then,” I said. “The Vizier could be back at any moment, and when he comes, I’m out of here. So we need to solve this case.” “What case?” Sabu asked. “What are you talking about?” “It’s a secret,” I told him. “No, it’s not,” Miu said. Ignoring my protests, she laid out everything we’d discovered. “So it’s someone in this village,” she finished. “We just don’t know who. We could use your help.” Sabu tilted his head curiously. “You mean, you’re trying to solve this case? Why not leave it to the humans?” “We can’t,” Miu said. “They haven’t noticed any of the clues.” “But we’re Great Detectives,” Khepri piped up with pride. “We notice everything.” “Great Detective?” Sabu swished his tail, a sign of interest. “That sounds like a job that would suit me.” “We have enough detectives already,” I said. When Miu glared at me, I added reluctantly, “But if you really want to help, I guess you could be our sidekick.” Sabu looked like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “I’m not anybody’s sidekick, Fancypaws. I’m a leader. Go find some other cat to help you.” Head held high, he stalked off. Fancypaws again! The nerve. But when I turned to Miu to complain, she said, “Ra, stop making trouble. We need him on our side. He’s the leader here. I bet there’s not a cat in Set Ma’at who will talk to us without his sayso.” Hmmm…I hadn’t thought of that. Miu was still watching Sabu’s angry tail. “We’d better go after him before he disappears completely. But this time, Ra, let me do the talking.” “Good idea,” Khepri agreed. By the time we caught up with Sabu, Bek was hand-feeding him snacks again. Honestly, the way that cat could eat! And did he offer to share? No. As we came into view, he turned his face away and butted his head against Bek’s knee. “The Scribe says nobody’s allowed in the Valley of the Kings until the Vizier returns,” Bek was saying to Sabu. “So we can’t work on Pharaoh’s tomb today. But that means I get to see more of you—” “Bek.” A stocky man hustled up to the sculptor. “We need to talk.” It was Neferhotep the goldsmith, the man who had given my necklace away. Oh, little beads that go clink! I put my claws out. “That sculpture you were going to make for my tomb? I want it bigger.” Neferhotep stretched his restless hands apart, showing the size he wanted. His rings sparkled in the sharp sunlight. “Twice as big, in fact.” Bek gave Sabu one last stroke, then straightened to his full height. “Are you sure, Neferhotep? It will take longer, and it will cost three times as much.” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Neferhotep jabbed a ringed finger at Bek’s chest. “Twice as much, that’s all I’m paying you.” “That wouldn’t cover the costs,” Bek explained patiently. “A bigger stone is much more expensive—and that’s before I even start carving it. But maybe there’s some other compromise we can come to. Come to my place, and we’ll discuss it.” As he and Neferhotep walked away, I saw the boy Kenamon slip out of an alley and follow them. I pointed him out to Khepri. “Maybe he’s going home,” Khepri offered. “Or maybe he’s trying to get a closer look at those rings on Neferhotep’s fingers,” I countered. “I swear he has more now than he did when we got here. Maybe one of them comes from Setnakht’s tomb.” “If it does, he’d be pretty silly to wear it where everyone can see it,” Khepri said. “You’re getting carried away, Ra. Yes, Neferhotep gave your necklace to another cat. But that doesn’t mean he’s a criminal.” “Sure it does,” I grumbled. “He stole my necklace, for starters.” I sat down in the shade, and Khepri slid between my paws. Behind us, Miu trotted up to Sabu. “Cousin, I’m so sorry!” She spoke in her sweetest purr. “Ra was just teasing. He knows you’re a born leader. We all do. How could anyone doubt it? You’re clearly in charge here in Set Ma’at, and we need your help.” She bowed her head to him. “Please, cousin, will you be our partner?” Sabu looked torn. Cousinship is a strong tie among us cats. Even seventh cousinship, twice removed. “Look,” he said to Miu. “I want to help you. But I won’t take orders from that high-hat palace cat, and that’s final.” Well, he wouldn’t be working for us, then. But Miu continued in that sweet purr, “You don’t have to take orders from him, cousin. You and I can work together. I could help you organize the village cats into a detective force. You’d be so good at that!” Sabu lapped up her praise. “You’re right. I’d be great.” His gaze flickered back to me. “Maybe I could give him orders.” “All right. That’s enough.” I hauled myself to my feet. “Nobody gives orders to Pharaoh’s Cat. Khepri and I will pursue our own investigations, thank you very much.” “We will?” Khepri said. I gave him a look. “Yes, we will.” “We can meet up and compare notes later,” Miu said, trying to keep the peace. “Yes.” There was laughter in Sabu’s green eyes. “Then we’ll discover who’s the real Great Detective.” Filthy Beast It was all I could do to get out of there without starting a cat fight. But Pharaoh’s Cat knows how to behave with dignity. With Khepri perched on my head, I padded my way down the narrow main street of Set Ma’at. When I was sure we were out of Sabu’s sight, I came to a halt. “Did you hear that?” I fumed to Khepri. “Sabu’s turned this into a contest. He thinks he’s a better detective than I am.” “That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Khepri said, “if it means he works hard.” “Great Detective, my paw! Why, he couldn’t handle being a sidekick.” I was still fuming. “I’ll show him. I’ll crack this case before the Vizier comes back for me—with time to spare.” “We’ll crack it together,” Khepri said. “Where do we start? With Neferhotep?” “No.” I didn’t even have to think twice. “We’ll get to him later. But we’ll start at the top.” What better place could there be for Pharaoh’s Cat? “We’re going to interview the highest-ranking animal in Set Ma’at.” “You mean Sabu?” Khepri said doubtfully. “Of course not.” I scowled. “Sabu can brag all he wants to, but we know who the real top animal is.” “Who?” Wasn’t it obvious? “Well, it’s the Scribe who’s head of the village. So the top animal is his favorite pet. He had the boy Kenamon paint her portrait. Remember? What’s-her-name.” “Menwi?” Khepri said. “Yes, that’s the one.” “What sort of animal do you think she is?” Khepri wondered. “Something classy, no doubt, with a name like that.” The original Menwi had been a great lady in the royal court. “I’m guessing she’s a cat of fine lineage. Or perhaps a monkey or a falcon.” Khepri looked down the street of tightly packed houses. “And where do you think she lives?” “Oh, that’s easy. We’ll look for the biggest place in the village. Only the best will do for the Scribe.” Khepri thought this over. “So he’ll have the best snacks, too?” Khepri is quite clever sometimes. “Another reason to always start at the top, my friend.” In the end, we identified the Scribe’s front door by smell alone. As the village boss, he had the fanciest midday meal. “This is it, Khepri.” The aroma of cumin and duck made my head swim. It wouldn’t count as anything special at the palace, but I was too hungry to care. I bounded toward the steps just as the Scribe himself came along, accompanied by Huya, the strapping young carpenter. They appeared to be in deep discussion, keeping their voices low, but when the Scribe saw me, he broke off. “Shoo!” “I’m Pharaoh’s Cat,” I meowed indignantly. Not that it did any good. “Go on, shoo!” The Scribe brandished his inky staff at me, narrowly missing my tail. I yowled. “My lord, stop! That’s Pharaoh’s Cat.” Kenamon rushed up to my side. Relieved to have a defender, I turned back to the Scribe. So there! “Don’t be ridiculous, boy,” the Scribe sneered. “Pharaoh’s Cat went back with the Vizier.” “But this is the one I was drawing, my lord. I’m sure of it. He’s even got a beetle on his head—” “And probably bugs all over the rest of him, too,” the Scribe interrupted. “He’s a stray, boy. Look at him.” “But—” “Don’t waste my time, Kenamon. I’ve had enough trouble from you and your family today. Can’t you see Huya and I have important matters to attend to?” The Scribe turned to his brawny companion. “Huya, wait out here, and I’ll bring you, er…” He flashed a glance at Kenamon and lowered his voice. “Well, just wait here,” he went on to Huya. “And don’t let that filthy beast in. I don’t want him mucking up the place and bothering Menwi.” “Yes, my lord Scribe.” Huya elbowed Kenamon out of the way and planted himself in front of me. “Who does the Scribe think he is, calling me filthy?” I protested to Khepri. “He’s the one with the inky fingers.” “Yes,” Khepri said uncertainly. “But…” “But what?” “Well, the trip out to the tomb didn’t do you any favors, Ra. I hate to say it, but you’re not quite the same cat.” For the first time since we’d gotten back, I took a close look at myself. My hind end was covered with dust. My tail was matted. My paws were mottled with clay. And those were just the bits I could see. “This isn’t good.” A chill went through me. “Even if the Vizier does come back, he’ll never recognize me.” “Of course he will,” Khepri said, a shade too heartily. “We need to clean you up, that’s all.” As the Scribe vanished into his house, Huya aimed a kick right at my hindquarters. “Scoot, you dirty stray!” I scooted before I was booted. Kenamon followed after me, and when we reached a safe place, he bent down and held a hand out. He didn’t seem to mind how dirty I was. “Sorry, Pharaoh’s Cat. The Scribe shouldn’t have done that to you, and neither should Huya. But they’re awful to almost everybody. In fact, I think they might be up to—” “Kenamon, who are you talking to?” Pentu the painter rounded the corner. His hands had flecks of rusty paint on them, and his gaunt face was winched tight with worry. “Oh, it’s just a cat.” Kenamon stood, his feet arranged as if to guard me. “It’s Pharaoh’s Cat, Father.” “Pharaoh’s Cat?” Pentu didn’t look past my dusty fur. “You have quite an imagination, Kenamon.” “He got left behind somehow,” Kenamon insisted. “He needs water and food.” “Kenamon, you know we can’t afford to feed a cat. Not even Pharaoh’s Cat. Which I doubt this is.” “But I thought you said that things were going to change—” Pentu looked alarmed again. “Hush.” Some cat wisdom: when people say “hush,” it’s time to listen up. I swiveled my ears, determined to catch every word of what came next. Secrets and Surprises “We’re not going to talk about that again.” Pentu’s voice was hardly more than a whisper. “Do you understand?” “I don’t see why we have to keep so quiet about everything,” Kenamon mumbled. “Silence is golden.” “But you spoke out this morning. Loud and clear, right to the Vizier.” “And look at the trouble that caused.” Pentu sighed. “Kenamon, you need to leave that cat alone and come with me. Neferhotep wants to see you about painting one of the walls of his tomb.” Neferhotep again? I bared my teeth as I saw the goldsmith approach us. Kenamon looked at his father in surprise. “I thought you said he couldn’t afford our prices.” Neferhotep overheard. He knotted his fingers together as he stopped in front of Kenamon. “Your father and I have come to an arrangement.” “An arrangement?” Kenamon looked uncertainly at his father. “What are the terms?” Pentu didn’t meet his eyes. “Never mind,” said Neferhotep. His fingers were twitching again, so rapidly that I could hear a constant clinking as his rings tapped against each other. I sidled closer, trying to get a good look at those rings. Did one of them belong to Setnakht? “The point is that your father and I have agreed that you will paint a portrait of me on the wall of my tomb. Come with me, and I’ll tell you exactly what I want.” He turned and motioned for Kenamon and his father to join him. As Pentu followed, a narrow reed brush dropped from his waistband. Scooping it up, Kenamon sighed, then bent low and whispered to me. “I have to go with them, but wait here. I’ll bring you some water as soon as I can. And a snack, if I can find one.” He ran off, leaving me alone with Khepri. “Did you catch that?” Khepri asked. “About the snacks? Of course.” I never miss anything about snacks. “Not that, Ra. Did you hear how Pentu told Kenamon they were going to have more money soon? He even said that he’s not supposed to talk about it. And he’s clearly done some kind of funny deal with Neferhotep. Looks suspicious, doesn’t it?” “Not really,” I said, but I was uneasy. “You can’t possibly suspect that nice boy of being a criminal.” “It was the father I was wondering about,” Khepri said. “Maybe Neferhotep knows he’s the tomb robber, and he’s blackmailing him. Though maybe the boy is involved, too. He did behave rather strangely in the tomb. He was watching us so closely, and he seemed to notice everything, but—” “He’s an artist,” I said. “He’s supposed to notice things. That doesn’t make him guilty. And remember, he offered me snacks.” Khepri dropped down onto my nose, looking cross. “Snacks don’t mean anything, Ra.” I stared at him aghast. “Khepri, snacks mean everything.” Khepri sighed and climbed back between my ears. “I suppose we can’t really build a solid case against anyone until we have more evidence.” “Well, after Kenamon brings me my snack, we can go look for more clues,” I said. “Kenamon only said he’d try to come back. It doesn’t mean he will. Anyway, we can’t just sit around and wait for Kenamon. We’re Great Detectives, and we’ve got a case to pursue.” He was right. But that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it. “So where were we?” Khepri drummed his feet on my fur. “Oh, yes. You wanted to go interview Menwi, the Scribe’s pet. And I agree that might be useful. I vote we try the Scribe’s back door.” Pharaoh’s Cat doesn’t normally do back doors, but Great Detectives can’t afford to be fussy. With Khepri guiding me, I darted down alleys and squeezed through gaps until we reached a small courtyard behind the Scribe’s house. “See that shed?” Khepri murmured as we balanced on the wall. “Maybe Menwi lives there.” “In a shed off the kitchen? Be serious, Khepri. No highborn cat—” The Scribe bounded out the back door, a pot in his hand. “Menwi, darling, it’s lunchtime!” With grunts and squeals, an enormous pinky-white mountain rushed out of the shed. A mountain with a curly tail and a snout. I looked at Khepri in shock. “Menwi is a pig?” “The biggest pig I ever saw,” said Khepri in awe. “But everyone knows that swine are allied with the forces of chaos,” I said. “No one keeps them as pets.” “The Scribe does,” Khepri said. “Just listen to him!” “Who’s the cleverest creature in Egypt?” The Scribe blew a kiss to Menwi. “That’s right. It’s you, darling.” He dumped the contents of his pot into a trough. “Spiced goose for you, my sweet. And some other goodies.” “Spiced goose?” Khepri whispered in my ear. “What do you want to bet the spices are cinnamon and cumin?” My thoughts exactly. Menwi snuffled at the trough. The Scribe scratched behind her ears. “I wish I could stay, beloved, but I need to keep one step ahead of the Vizier.” He blew her more kisses as he left. “See you soon, my darling.” “He blows kisses to a pig, but he won’t let Pharaoh’s Cat into the house?” I couldn’t get over the injustice. “That’s it. I’m going home.” Then I remembered I didn’t have a home. Some other cat had taken my place. All I had was this. Khepri hopped off my head, the better to observe the pig. “I think we should talk to her, Ra. If she really is the cleverest creature in Egypt, she might be able to help us.” “She doesn’t look that smart to me,” I said. “She’s certainly worked out how to get plenty of food,” Khepri noted. Point taken. “All right,” I said. “We’ll talk to her.” “Good. You know, I really like how it smells here—” “But we’re not staying long,” I added. “Then let’s get going.” Khepri meant to hop up on me, but in his excitement, he overshot. When I reached out to catch him, we both went tumbling down into the courtyard. We landed in something soft. And smelly. And squishy. “Dung!” Khepri cried in delight. “Dung!” I cried in horror. I jumped up, reeking, and found myself muzzle-to-snout with Menwi. Menwi “Goodness gracious, what have we here?” Menwi had the accent of a highborn lady—well-bred, cultured, and just the faintest bit amused. Bedraggled and stinky though I was, I pulled together what dignity I had left, assuming the time-honored pose of Bastet. “Lady Menwi, may I introduce myself? Pharaoh’s Cat, Ra the Mighty, Lord of the Powerful Paw, at your service.” (I didn’t mean the “at your service” bit. It’s just what we aristocrats say.) Menwi’s beady eyes looked me up and down. “Well, whoever you are, you certainly do sound like royalty. I’ve never seen a cat with such elegant bearing—or so covered with mud. Why, you could almost be a royal piglet.” Khepri sprang to my side. “Oh, he’s Pharaoh’s Cat all right. He’s just having a bad day.” “The worst ever,” I confided. “I’ve had to crawl through tombs and walk through deserts. I’ve had jackals chasing me and people kicking me. And I haven’t had a thing to eat since I left the palace.” “You’re hungry?” Menwi looked horrified. “Why, that’s dreadful.” She swung her snout toward her trough. “There’s not much left, but you’re very welcome to it. And…er…your companion as well.” “Thanks,” Khepri said cheerily, “but I’ve already eaten.” “I’m not even going to think about that,” I told him. Nodding politely to Menwi, I said, “I’m honored, but I wouldn’t dream of taking a lady’s food.” “How polite.” Menwi regarded me with approval. “But really, it’s more than I can manage. The Scribe is so generous. It’s there for the taking, if you change your mind.” “No, no,” I murmured. “You’re too kind.” I didn’t want to offend her, not when we were trying to get on her good side, but I wasn’t about to lower myself by eating a pig’s leftovers. I sidled past the trough. If there was any spiced goose in there, I couldn’t tell, given what a reeking jumble it was. Wait a minute. Was there duck in that mess? Hmmm, I thought. I do love a bit of roast duck. “Well, maybe I will have just a taste…” I plunged my head into the trough. A big mistake. There was roast duck, all right—well past its prime. But it was mixed with moldy melon and rancid gravy. And now that gravy was clinging to my fur. Choking, I retreated to Menwi’s water dish. “Such a dainty appetite,” Menwi said in concern. “Are you sure you’ve had enough?” “Urgggh…yes. Thank you.” I hacked up a bit of duck and batted it away with my paw, hoping she wouldn’t see. “Well, now that you’ve eaten, do please tell me more about yourself, Ra the Mighty. What brings a royal cat like you to Set Ma’at?” “I’m here to serve justice,” I told her. “We both are,” Khepri put in. Together we told Menwi about the tomb robbery. “So the thieves come from this village?” With a squelch, Menwi lowered herself to the ground next to me. “It’s shocking that Set Ma’at would be involved in something so disgraceful. But I can’t deny that standards have slipped here. And now tomb robbery…well! It just shows what this world is coming to.” “So you’d be willing to help us?” I said. She opened her pale lashes wide. “Of course.” “Then tell me everything you know against Neferhotep,” I said. “Ra,” Khepri warned, “that’s not the way a Great Detective solves—” “Neferhotep the goldsmith?” Menwi interrupted. “He’s a thief if there ever was one.” “A thief!” I repeated. “Did you hear that, Khepri?” “Why, he charged the Scribe an absolute fortune for repairing the clasp of a gold collar,” Menwi went on. “And when the Scribe refused to pay anything but a reasonable fee, Neferhotep said he would get the money out of the Scribe one way or another. He sounded quite threatening.” She tutted. “I’m afraid he’s not a nice man at all. He actually said”—she lowered her voice—“that I smelled. I’ve heard he has connections with a gang of some sort, too.” “Does he?” I said, excited. “A gang of tomb robbers, maybe?” Menwi’s small eyes gleamed. “Quite possibly.” “Hmmm.” Khepri sounded less enthusiastic. “Could I ask if you have any actual evidence, Lady Menwi? Maybe you saw Neferhotep sneaking out of the village last night?” “Oh, goodness me, nothing like that,” Menwi said. “I never pay much attention to the comings and goings of common workers. And I’m always in bed at a reasonable hour.” With a delicate snort, she added, “A lady needs her beauty sleep, you know.” “Of course,” said Khepri gallantly, but I could see he was disappointed. So was I. There was nothing to prove Neferhotep’s guilt. “The trouble is, that leaves the field wide open,” Khepri explained to Menwi. “Anyone from Set Ma’at could have been the robber.” He began pacing around Menwi’s water trough. “All we know for sure is that someone got into Setnakht’s tomb through the stonework in Thutmose the Second’s abandoned tomb next door. There’s no other way in. And we know it was someone from the village because of the clues we found there.” “The spiced goose,” I murmured wisely. “So I guess that means it’s most likely to be a tomb worker,” Khepri went on to Menwi, “since they could have explored the place during their breaks.” “No, they couldn’t,” Menwi contradicted him. “The Scribe is careful about that. He has the guards watch the workers very closely. They’re accompanied everywhere—on the path up to the tombs, inside the tombs, everywhere in that whole area. The men aren’t allowed to take breaks alone, and they’re searched every time they leave the building site. Then they’re searched again before they come home to Set Ma’at.” I nodded. This much I knew. “It’s a high-security operation, Khepri.” “If they’re watched so closely, then how did anyone discover the way into Setnakht’s tomb?” Khepri wondered. “Because somebody did discover it. We know that for a fact.” “What about the thieves who robbed Thutmose the Second’s tomb a few years ago?” I suggested. “Maybe they found the way in—and came back for more.” “No,” Menwi said slowly, her curly tail spiraling. “That robbery happened two years ago, and I remember the Scribe telling me about it. The thieves were caught that night, with the loot still in their bags, and they only had treasures from Thutmose the Second’s tomb. Nothing else. Besides, they were executed.” “Not much chance of them being involved, then,” Khepri murmured. “What if Anubis brought them back from the dead?” My whiskers trembled as the full force of the idea hit me. “Don’t you see? It fits. Dead tomb robbers could slip through anywhere—” “Don’t be silly, Ra,” Khepri said. “The tomb was robbed by living people. The scraps we found were fresh, remember? And I’m sure those blocks had been moved.” He sighed. “We just don’t know who did it. I’m afraid we’re stuck.” “Not quite,” Menwi said.