The Valley of Kings and a Queen

Chapter 32

Thankfully, the museum is only a couple miles from our hotel, so we only had to run for a short bit. We tried to avoid summoning our powers at the risk that we might expend them before they were really needed. Grey leads us down an unlit alleyway where rats and roaches scurry close to our feet. I try to not retch at the very sight of them crawling so close to me.

"Good evening," a voice calls, stepping forth from the shadows. Zane.

"Glad you could join us," Grey says, not hiding the smirk plastered on his face. Nailah just bites her tongue standing arms crossed. She doesn't seem to be in a good mood, but when has she ever really been one for pleasantries?

"Let's get on with this, we don't have all night," Nailah states, pushing herself off the wall she had been leaning on. Her words are icy for she doesn't even attempt to hide her displeasure towards us. Our first encounter comes to my mind, when she promised that she wouldn't hurt us. Didn't her mother ever tell her that words can hurt just as much as weapons. I bet she knew that, wielding them to her advantage.

Nailah stocks off from the alleyway headed towards Tahrir Square. In the evening, the square is lit up from the overlooking buildings and cars passing by. Though at this late hour it now sits vaccinated, the cloaking darkness providing us with a safe mask of protection as we ready ourselves to partake in criminal activity. The plaza now silenced from the usual honking of horns. Not a soul in sight.

"Okay, we're going to split into two groups to get inside. Too many of us at once will bring more suspicion to us. Zane, you take Isis and Osiris and Anubis." A chill runs down my spine as she calls us by the god and goddess's names. I felt as though I was naked, stripped bare from my true identity. "I'll take the others." Not going to lie, I for once drew the better end of the stick if it meant spending less time with the always enraged Egyptian girly.

Zane starts off jogging to the left of the square headed to alleyways on the backside of the museum. We hide under the cover that the trees outside the museum provide as Zane messes with the weapons at his belt. Where Grey and Finley were your remarkably athletic and strong builds, Zane was that of a brute warrior appearing to be honed through years of intense training and hard-fought battles.

We wander through the shadows below the backside of the museum. I can't help but be on edge fearing that we will trip whatever security system is at work. Zane pulls a handgun out from the side of his belt. His hand grips it firmly as he holds it up facing towards the museum walls. He pulls the trigger fast, sending a bullet speeding through the air knocking into the security camera. The red light goes black. Zane quickly reloads the gun, pivots, and fires at the next camera. He then begins stalking from the shadows towards the grounds below the window. He motions for us to follow him. We obey.

We're standing underneath a window to the upper floor that should back up to the portrait gallery that is supposed to be the least guarded exhibit at this hour. Grey pulls out the grappling hook from his own belt. He quickly unfastens the ties on the rope and then begins swinging it around it like a cowboy lasso before releasing his grip and sending the metal hook upwards towards the edge of the window seal. The hook makes a slight clank as it grazes the glass of the window before landing on the ledge.

"Nice," Finley asserts. Zane nods in approval.

"Who wants to go first?"

Without hesitation, Zane grabs the cable and begins climbing the wall of the building stealthily. It's only twenty feet, so it only takes him a minute or two due to his natural prowess. He reaches the ledge gripping it with one hand and uses another hand to take a laser to the window causing it to break free from the wall with ease. He then pulls himself over the wall and through the window ever so carefully. He disappears into the dark void. After a minute or two, he signals us through the window to follow as he watches guard. Grey goes second, climbing with his jackal-like agility. A death dog set off on a hunt upon escaping the afterlife's tight leash.

I followed right behind Grey. The leather rough between my clenched fingers. Isis some protection please, I command the goddess inside me. Praying that she will make my guide my hand and ease my fears. The blood pulsing in my veins calms as I begin my trek up the wall. I reach the top in no time, and Grey grabs my hands and helps me as I swing my right left over. He grabs hold of the back of my thigh and pulls the rest over me over the wall quickly. I stand up, my eyes adjusting to the dimly lit corridors.

"Where's Zane?" I whisper as panic arises inside me. Has he betrayed us?

"checking up on the security guard," Grey whispers as Finley pulls himself through the window.

"Thanks for nothing," Finley grumbles to us for we unthinkingly left him to fend for himself.

Zane stalks towards us from across the room gesturing for us to hurry. We sneak across the room careful to remain ever so silent in our approach.

"The guards?" Grey asks in a gentle whisper.

"Taken care of," Zane replies curtly. I'm not sure what taken care of completely entails, but I'm not sure if I want to find out.

We head out of the portrait room, and into the hall on the upper floor where we toured through only mere days ago. We tiptoe through the hall cautious of security guards and cameras that might bring us to our downfall. There's a guard passed out on a bench and another one on the floor. No sign of apparent injury. Zane had tranquilized them somehow. I look up in search of any cameras that might film our break in. All of them have gone black, lacking their usual hum that signifies their liveliness.

"Head to the King Tut's funeral rooms to start looking, I'm going to find the others," Zane says heading towards a neighboring room.

We pass the temporary exhibit for Cleopatra, and I can't help but reach for the amulet dangling from my neck. It seems to awaken at my touch. Oh darling, it's not for usage tonight. No, no. My dear. It's not for this. When am I supposed to use it, I mutter under my breath hoping Cleopatra herself might show up and clarify her vague declarations. She might be ever so wise, but she apparently didn't know how to dumb down her words for people like me that needed further elucidation.

We reach King Tut's exhibits. The funerary exhibit neighbored a room filled with his treasures.

"Where should we start?"

"I'll go to the treasures," Grey suggests. "You go to the funerary room."

"Shouldn't you go to the exhibit for funerals considering that's Anubis's specialty?" Grey ponders it for a second before responding.

"Both of us are important for the afterlife, so I think it makes no difference." Before we can decide, Henri joins us with Nailah.

"Zane's keeping guard with your other friends, the two boys and that girl."

"Henri, you come with me, and search the treasure room. Let the gods of death search the funerary room." Henri follows after me.

We head into a room filled with treasures. Nailah joins us. We head to the exhibit filled with statues, jewels, and other ancient relics all set out on daisies or safeguarded under glass cases. We wander through the different pieces reading the descriptions engraved on the plaques. Hoping that the brief history would maybe lead is in a particular different way. Nothing. I search through pottery displays and graze through necklaces, bracelets, and regalia. Nothing seems to call to me.

"Have either of you found anything significant." They just simply nod at me across the room clearly lost in their own frustration over our so far useless search. We continue our search through the exhibit with no sign of apparent luck.

Suddenly, a loud explosion occurs on the other wing. Henri and I just look up and locking eyes. Finley and Grey. No, I'm thinking that I was stupid to have left those two fools alone.

We start sprinting across the hall towards where the eruption occurred. Grey who had fallen backwards onto the floor slowly stirs from an unconscious state. He begins crawling on the floor covered in dirt and grime from the blast. Finley's standing there looking off into the distance. He's talking to someone. No something.

"Boy, I see the King hath deemed you worthy. A sacrifice promised is not the same as one paid my dear." I run to see Finley talking with -well a dagger. Actually, the dagger is talking to him. "Have you had the chance to tell your friends here the cost."

"Silence," Finley barks at it angrily. He caps the dagger and sheathes it inside his belt. Then turns to grab a papyrus scroll on a dais. The second Finley touches the ancient text, the museum's security alarms go off.