CHAPTER TWELVE
❝Drink in the moon as though you might die of thirst.❞
Sanober Khan
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"Oh. My. God." Luna's jaw drops. Amelia Earhart is standing in front of their motorcycle, clad in a leather jacket, leather boots, and skin-tight pants, and she's not even mad.
"What's the rumpus, ace?" Amelia says in her perfect, 1930s-style voice. Luna feels like she might faint.
"Look, lady, could you get out of the way?" Larry asks, slightly annoyed.
Amelia frowns. "Lady? Who are you calling 'lady'? The name is Amelia."
And then a spear punctures the front tire of the motorcycle. "Well, that's a bummer," Luna sighs.
Larry looks up, and so does Luna, and they make eye contact with the Egyptian soldiers now gaining on them. With a heavy, annoyed sigh, Larry grabs Luna's arm, pulls her out of the sidecar, and runs down yet another labyrinthine corridor, Amelia trotting close behind.
"Amelia Earhart," she continues, still as perky as ever, "perhaps you've heard of me?"
"Oh, right." Larry nods, somewhat preoccupied. "You're, like, this famous pilot or whatever."
Luna hits him on the arm with the hand that isn't holding the tablet. "Um, she is not just a 'famous pilot or whatever'. She's the most famous female pilot! She was the first female pilot to fly across the Atlantic solo, the first woman to receive the Distinguished Flying Cross, and the first woman to attempt to circumnavigate the globe."
Amelia looks slightly taken aback, but pleased. "What she said. And now if you'd wipe that perhaps-permanent look of alarm off your kisser, I was wondering if you might be so kind as to tell me exactly where I am."
Larry's scanning pathways, searching for the best way out, so Luna answers for him. "You're in the Smithsonian Museum--or under it, I guess."
"And we're in kind of a dangerous situation right now," Larry adds, peering around a decidedly huge crate marked MOUNTAIN GORILLA - 1902, "so you might not want to be anywhere near us."
Amelia gives Luna a saucy wink (honestly, what a queen, reader), and then slides cozily up to Larry, who jumps out of his skin. "Wow, you're fast."
"What's your name, flyboy?" she asks cheekily.
"Uh, my name is Larry Daley." Larry's far too distracted to notice that Amelia very certainly finds him attractive--which is information Luna finds highly important.
"And your sweet little friend here?"
"Luna Clair." Luna gives her an awkward wave, other arm clutching the tablet to her chest. It hums pleasantly against her.
"Well, Larry Daley and Luna Clair, in case you weren't listening--" Amelia saunters out into the open, posing dramatically with her hands on her hips -- "I'm not one to shy away from danger."
Four spears fly out of nowhere and hit the wall behind and around her, exactly how they do in every single movie ever. Luna gasps and almost drops the tablet.
"How about spears?" Larry looks like he peed himself--and Luna has to admit, he probably did just a little. "Are you one to shy away from spears?"
The Egyptian soldiers are like a toxic ex--they won't take no for an answer, and they're still following. Larry grabs Luna again and pulls her down another path, Amelia close behind.
After a few more minutes of twisting and turning, they finally reach an exit--honestly, no one cares which one. Larry pulls open the door, pushes Luna through, and before he can shut it, Amelia pops in, too, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
As soon as they're up past B level, Luna flips the walkie talkie back on and says, "Nicky, you there?"
"Shit, it's been, like, an hour! Are you guys okay?" Nicky sounds so worried.
"Yeah, fine. Look, I don't know where we are yet, can you track my phone and find out?"
"Hang on..." There's a short pause, and then-- "Holy shit, you guys made some serious headway. You're in the National Portrait Gallery, a whole mile from the Castle aboveground."
"Can you meet us there?" Luna asks, pausing just before the door that opens onto the main hall.
"Yeah, but it might take me a while. If I'm gonna try to avoid Kahmunrah and the security guards, I'm gonna have to take some really long go-arounds."
"Just call when you get close."
"Will do. Be safe."
They hurry down the long, strangely deserted hall and toward the doors that open into the National Portrait Gallery. Luna's heart is racing in time to the pulsing of the glow inside her, and the tablet hums in her arms.
Larry pushes open the large, heavy doors, and they step out into a large, enchanting hall, in the center of which is a beautifully sculpted fountain. The floor is gorgeous marble, which reflects the talented engraving across the ceiling. On any other day, Luna would stop to admire it for at least twenty minutes, but they don't have that kind of time.
"You two seem to be quite popular," Amelia says cheerily. "Why don't you just skedaddle?"
"We can't skedaddle," Larry replies. He's walking so fast, Luna's having to jog to keep up. "Our friends are being held down there."
"We have to get them," Luna adds. "So we have to find another way down."
They turn right, leaving the beautiful hall, and into a smaller room with paintings covering the walls, like any other art gallery--except these paintings are alive. A tiny, painted snowball hits Larry in the face and he starts, turning to face the painting on the wall of a small pond and its inhabitants, skating and having snowball fights.
"Wow," he breathes, staring at it in shock. "This is new."
The tiny painted people stare up at them in wonder--and then horror. Children scream and mothers rush them away. Larry frowns. "Hey, it's all right. I don't want to hurt you."
There's a clink of metal behind them, and Luna whips around. "Uh, Larry, they're not scared of you."
The Egyptian soldiers are advancing on them from behind, spears raised--and there's only one exit. Luna's heart begins to race again.
Larry, Amelia, and Luna press their backs against the wall between American Gothic and the famous picture, VJ Day in Times Square. Crying Girl, on the opposite wall, watches them in silence, her expression a mixture of sadness and shock.
Larry glances at the soldiers, takes a deep breath, and yanks the pitchfork out of American Gothic with a quick "Thanks!", wielding it at the somewhat shocked soldiers. "Back off! Just back off!"
The waiter in Nighthawks smashes a bottle on the bar and points the broken neck at the soldiers.
"I will fork you!" Larry says, incredibly seriously. Luna has a strange urge to laugh.
The soldiers are now unfazed and move in closer, expressions menacing, spear tips very, very sharp and pointy. Luna presses herself tighter against the wall, the tablet buzzing against her chest.
Amelia just sighs. "Never send a boy to do a woman's job." She wrenches the pitchfork from Larry's hands and spins it once before directing it toward the soldiers. "I spent two weeks spear-hunting with a tribe in Micronesia."
And before Larry or Luna can say anything, she hurls the pitchfork at the soldiers. It spins dangerously--before one of the soldiers catches it in one hand.
Amelia leans back nervously. "The Micronesians had much slower reflexes."
"Dad? Luna?"
Everyone's head whips around to the side hall, where Nicky's standing, backpack slung over his shoulder, mouth wide open. Larry doesn't waste a second; while the soldiers are distracted, he grabs Amelia and yanks her into VJ Day.
The soldiers whip around, shocked that he's gone, and Luna takes her chance: she pulls Nicky by the sleeve and jumps into Nighthawks. The young woman (who looks an awful lot like Susan Hayward) gasps and drops her bite of sandwich. The waiter (who's a dead ringer for a young Fred Astaire) points his broken bottle at them. The man holding a cigarette (Luna's pretty sure he's Gregory Peck) just glances up and takes a long drag, and the man facing away from them doesn't even move.
"Excuse me, sir," Luna says to the waiter, "but these nasty men are chasing us. Do you mind if we hide behind your counter?"
"Not at all, sweetheart." The waiter moves aside so she and Nicky can clamber over the counter. "These guys rough you up?"
"Not yet," Luna replies. "They've tried to steal this, though." She gestures to the tablet in her arms, which is still humming rather a lot.
The waiter frowns disapprovingly. "Well, that's no way to treat a nice dame like you. Would you like me to hold onto it for you?"
"No, that's alright." Luna smiles up at him. "But I'd appreciate if you'd, uh, distract them so we could get out of here." She points to the soldiers, who are trying to wedge their spears in through the frame of the painting.
The waiter glances over at the soldiers, and then grins mischievously. "I boxed in school. You got it, doll." He rolls up his sleeves, clenching his hands into fists, and jerks his head at Gregory Peck. "Hey, bud, want a little fun?"
Gregory Peck looks up, shrugs, and then puts out his cigarette on the counter. "Sure, why not?"
"Lu, we gotta go," says Nicky warningly, tugging at her sleeve. The soldiers have figured out a way in--and the minute they get in, Luna and Nicky are gonna jump out.
Unzipping her backpack frantically and shoving the tablet inside, Luna looks back at the young waiter. "What's your name?"
"Stanley," he says, grinning. "What's yours?"
"Luna!"
"Luna... I like that." Stanley smiles. "Real pretty."
And then Nicky pulls Luna behind him through the frame and they collapse onto the hardwood floor just as the Egyptian soldiers finish climbing through the painting's frame, and at the same time as Larry and Amelia fall out of VJ Day.
"Quick!" Larry gestures frantically at the painting. He and Amelia flip VJ Day around so it's facing at the wall. Luna's heart races as she and Nicky very quickly do the same to Nighthawks, whispering a silent thank you to Stanley and the others.
They pause, waiting for movement, but none comes. Luna glances around at Larry and Nicky, and they breathe a collective sigh of relief. "That actually worked," Larry says, sounding mildly surprised.
Amelia nods excitedly. "What's next?"
"Look, nothing personal," Larry replies, "but we're kind of in the middle of something here that's not really your fight."
"It's because I'm a woman, isn't it?" Amelia wrinkles her nose in annoyance.
"No, it's because we've got this ancient raised-from-the-dead evil Pharaoh guy who's willing to kill me and anyone near me to get that tablet so he can rule the world."
"So it is because I'm a woman!" Amelia hisses, frowning.
Larry sighs and opens his mouth to start again, but Luna interrupts. "Come on, Larry, it's Amelia freaking Earhart! She's incredible, and she'll be more of a help than a hindrance! It's definitely better than that Custer guy."
"Custer?" Nicky looks confused.
"Don't ask." Luna shakes her head. She really, really wants Amelia to come with them. Even though she's a wax figure, Amelia Earhart was--and is--one of her childhood heroes, and she has some questions she'd love to ask when this is all over. "Please, Larry?"
Larry glances between the two women, then sighs and runs a hand over his head. "Fine. But stick close."
They hurry back through the hall with the fountain, and Amelia looks over at Nicky with a curious expression. "I don't think we've met just yet. Amelia Earhart, and you are?"
"Um, Nick. That's, uh--He's my dad." Nicky, bless his sweet heart, is unused to being asked his name by beautiful women who talk like Katherine Hepburn, and Luna finds it absolutely hilarious.
"Pleased to meet you, Nick." Amelia smiles at him, then turns back to Larry. "We'll get you back to your chums, Mr. Daley. You won't get lost following Amelia Earhart."
Luna bites the inside of her cheek, doing her best not to blurt out the fact that Amelia did get lost on her final flight from Lae to Howland Island, and that she probably died either in a crash or was killed by Japanese soldiers. This Amelia is just a wax figure and it will do nothing to tell her how she dies. Still, it's hard to keep her mouth shut.
Larry opens his mouth to say something, but then Luna gasps. French soldiers appear out of a doorway at the other end of the hall--and something about them says "absolutely not good".
"Get down!" Larry hisses. He pulls Amelia down behind the fountain, and Luna and Nicky drop to their knees beside them, ducking as low as they can to avoid being seen.
"Those look like 19th-century uniforms," Luna whispers to Nicky. "Like Napoleon-era."
Amelia cuts her eyes at Larry and grins mischievously. "Well, well, Mr. Daley, I quite like the way you're holding me."
"Oh, God." Nicky covers his face with his hands, his ears turning beet red. "She's got a crush on my dad, doesn't she?"
"I think so." Luna shouldn't laugh, but it is kind of funny.
Larry blinks, realizing what she said, and hastily drops his arm from her shoulders. "Uh, no. Sorry. I wasn't trying to--"
"Oh, please, stop beating your gums, Mr. Daley," Amelia says, rather more loudly than she should. "You haven't been able to take your cheaters off my chassis since the moment we met."
"What the hell did she just say?" Nicky looks up at Luna, frowning.
"I don't think you really want to know," Luna whispers, grinning. Translation: Amelia knows Larry's looked at her butt and she doesn't care.
"I literally didn't understand one word of that," Larry replies, shaking his head.
Amelia opens her mouth to say something, but then she pauses and looks up. "Is it just me or is there music in the air?"
"No, no, I hear it, too." Luna nods. It's like...harp music, sort of, but they're playing "More Than a Woman"? And then the answer: three very naked cherub boys fly down from the rafters, singing right at Larry and Amelia.
"Hey!" Larry looks absolutely pissed. "You! Little flying angel things! Quiet!"
"They're cupids, Mr. Daley," Amelia says, looking up at them sweetly. "Gods of love."
"Actually, they're cherubim," Luna corrects her gently. "Associated with Cupid in Western art, but not at all Cupid himself. Just little boys who sing praises to the gods."
"Show-off," Nicky mutters, but he's grinning.
Larry sighs. "Great. Little naked boys, would you shut up? Please shut up. We're trying to hide."
The cherubim, who sound a lot like the Jonas Brothers, literally don't hear a word Larry says, because then one of them starts beatboxing and now it's a hip-hop "More Than a Woman".
"No, don't change the arrangement!" Larry is utterly frustrated and it's honestly hilarious. "It's not about the arrangement! Quiet! Shh!"
The French soldiers have obviously heard the Jonas cherubs and are slowly edging closer and closer to the fountain, which wipes the smile off of Luna's face. The cherubim sing louder and louder, and the soldiers get closer. Nicky slides his hand into Luna's, holding tightly, and Larry nods. "All right. Come on, let's go."
They circle the fountain and so do the soldiers, like Tom and Jerry in an old cartoon. Luna can feel the tablet pulsing against her back. And then the soldiers go one way and they go another, and they run and run until they can't hear the heels of the French soldiers' boots on the marble anymore--straight into two very French and very soldiery men carrying muskets with bayonets strapped to the barrels.
"Shit," Luna breathes. Nicky steps in front of her slightly, squeezing her hand tightly. They back up, and of course there are more soldiers coming at them from another doorway.
"And so--" A short man with a comedically French accent and a comedically large hat steps in front of Larry, his expression triumphant-- "the little tiny man who could not be a smaller or shorter mouse runs into the claws of the giant cat!" And then he growls in what is supposed to be a catlike way.
Straight away, Luna knows exactly who this is. "Napoleon Bonaparte," she whispers to Nicky. "Famous for being very short and very insecure about being very short."
"Wow, you're really hung up on the height, aren't you?" Larry asks, frowning.
Napoleon shakes his head. "No, it's not about height, see--"
"Yes, you are. You're saying I'm a little mouse, you're a giant cat." Larry draws himself up to his full height, which is several inches taller than Napoleon. Luna bites back a laugh.
Napoleon sizes him up, clearly bristling. "I am the giant cat," he says, keeping his composure, and hisses again, slightly anticlimactically.
"No offense," Larry replies, shrugging. "I just--You know, you're Napoleon. There's, like, a complex named after you. You're famous for being little and it's true, look!"
"Oh, you naïve American man-boy." Napoleon clearly thinks being condescending brings the power back to him. (It does not, reader. It very much does not.)
"Look," Larry says, "neither of us are gonna be jamming anytime soon, right? So it's not like--"
"Oh, my god, can we please get to the point?" Luna rolls her eyes. As much as she finds this very entertaining, she'd very much like to get back to where Ahkmenrah and the others are and kick Kahmunrah's ass as soon as possible.
"Who--who is this small child?" Napoleon frowns, leaning around Larry to look at Luna. "I'm sorry, were--are you speaking to me?"
"Yes! You're working for Kahmunrah, right? And he sent you out to come find us because he's lazy, right, and you're supposed to bring us to him so he can have the golden tablet?"
"Y-yes." Napoleon nods slowly, looking very confused. "But how--?"
"I have the tablet in here." Luna pokes her backpack with the hand that Nicky isn't holding. "Now either let us go or take us to Kahmunrah, but please stop the whole masculine thing with the height. You're both very tall, very manly. Get on with it!"
Napoleon looks affronted, probably because Luna just interrupted his flow, but sighs. "Fine." He whips out a dagger and directs it at Larry. "Now this way or you die."
"Thank you." Luna rolls her eyes.
Napoleon grabs her arm and yanks her up to walk next to Larry, leaving Nicky and Amelia standing, confused, behind them. "Wait!" Nicky yells.
"I'm coming with you!" Amelia calls.
"No!" Napoleon points his dagger back at them. "Our fight is not with you!"
They walk for what feels like hours in silence, all the way through the National Portrait Gallery, down some stairs, up into the National Archives building, through the Sculpture Garden, in which a very disproportionate elephant trumpets disapproval at them, past the museums of Asian and African-American Art, and finally back into the Castle. Napoleon never once moves his dagger from Larry's chest, which makes Luna extremely uncomfortable.
Once, she makes a signal to Larry, questioning whether she should use her powers or not, but he shakes his head, mouths, "Not a good idea. Wait it out." So she does, however agonizing it may be.
Kahmunrah has taken over the main hall of the Castle. It's filled with black-and-white, grainy gangsters that look like they're from the 1930s, more French soldiers, and 16th-century Russian royal guards. Kahmunrah's sitting on a makeshift throne comprised of gold, fancy jewelry, an assortment of artifacts, and at the very top, Archie Bunker's chair from All in the Family.
When he sees them, he jumps to his feet, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Hello, Mr. Daley," he says, marching toward them. "Nice to see you again."
There's a muffled yell and Luna whips around, searching for the sound-- And she finds it. Ahkmenrah is bound and gagged next to the Gate of Kahmunrah. His eyes are wide and scared, and the tablet hums more furiously against her back.
"Ahk!" Luna runs toward him, but a Russian guard sticks his enormous battle-axe out in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. He says something deep and threatening in Russian.
"Yes, yes, this Russian man is correct," Kahmunrah says, smirking. "The rough translation of what he said is 'not so fast'. And I would tend to agree. Give me the tablet and I will release my brother."
"Release Ahkmenrah and I'll give you the tablet," Luna counters, bracing herself against the hard floor.
"You are in no position to negotiate, young lady," Kahmunrah replies, eyes narrowed. "I will repeat myself only once more: give me the tablet and I will allow you to go to my brother."
Luna glances at Ahkmenrah. His eyes are saying don't do it--but she has to.
Her hands shaking, she slides her backpack off her shoulders and unzips it. The Russian guard tenses and pokes the battle-axe further into her business. "Keep your nasty 1500s panties on," Luna snaps, pushing his axe away. "I'm getting the tablet out."
She slides the tablet out of the bag, feeling its energy pulse through her, strengthening the glow inside her--and then Kahmunrah snatches it from her grasp, sighing with relief and triumph. "Thank you ever so much." He looks down at it, caressing it like he would a lover, and walks over to the Gate, setting the tablet in its place. "Finally! After 3,000 years, my evil army of the damned, my beautiful, beautiful army, shall be unleashed!" He finishes putting in what he thinks is the combination and spins around, posing dramatically--
Nothing happens.
Kahmunrah waits a moment, looks back at the tablet, and then sighs frustratedly. "Oh, for the love of Isis--" He marches over to Ahkmenrah and rips the gag from his mouth-- "You changed the combination, didn't you? What is it?"
Ahkmenrah, despite being bound and gagged, keeps his calm. He shrugs. "I don't know. Mother and Father never told it to me. They might have thought that you couldn't be trusted."
"Wow, I guess this whole unleashing-the-underworld thing isn't really working out for you, huh?" Larry's doing his slightly-sarcastic-awkward-burn thing and Luna's honestly kind of loving it. "It just...must be really frustrating, 'cause you've waited thousands of years to come back from the dead and everything, and now you can't...get it open."
"Fear not," Kahmunrah hisses, "for I shall wait a thousand more if I must." He rips the tablet from the gate and shoves it under Ahkmenrah's nose. "Read what it says."
"Why, can't you read?" Luna can't help but ask.
"Of course not." He scoffs. "I always had our nanny read to me. Now read it!" He pokes Ahkmenrah in the shoulder.
"Over my dead body," Ahkmenrah replies, and Luna's not sure if he plans to spit in Kahmunrah's face or not, so she shakes her head slightly at him.
"Soon enough, I assure you." Kahmunrah jerks his head at the Egyptian soldiers. "Take him back downstairs. Beat him a little, then put him in the crate with the others. See if that doesn't change his attitude."
"No!" Luna's mind is running wild, playing images of Ahkmenrah curled in the fetal position in the midst of five guards hitting him with their spears, kicking him in the ribs-- "No! We'll get you the combination!"
"Luna, no!" Ahkmenrah cries, eyes wide.
Kahmunrah turns slowly to face her, a curious expression on his face. "You'll get me the combination, in exchange for his safety?" He points to Ahkmenrah, who shakes his head vigorously.
Luna stands her ground and nods. "Yes."
"Oh, and I didn't even have to threaten you with the tiny cowboy!" Kahmunrah crows happily. He points to a small birdcage where Jedediah is perched, looking horrified. "But, you know, as long as he's here--" He grabs the cage, pulls Jed out, and drops him into a giant hourglass, flipping it over. "Might as well make it double or nothing."
"You asshole, that wasn't part of the deal!" Luna's furious and terrified at the same time. The tablet's not even near her, but she can feel it humming. It's the same as the glow inside her: pulsing angrily as her heart beats faster.
"Oops, sorry!" Kahmunrah gives her a faux-pitiful expression. "You have exactly one hour to figure out the combination." He thrusts the tablet into Larry's chest roughly, sneering. "If you do not, I kill your friends. And please don't think about escaping, for I shall be watching you."
"Look, I don't even--" Larry begins, but Luna interrupts. She pulls him to face her, giving him a pleading look.
"Larry, please. Find Amelia and Nicky and figure out the combination. I'll stay here and make sure that this dick holds up his side of the deal." She gives him an I-also-have-my-powers look, which he understands. He nods slowly.
"Okay. Be careful." Larry gives her arm a squeeze, grasps the tablet tightly in his other hand, and then dashes off back down the hall.
"Tick-tock, Mr. Daley," Kahmunrah says, shaking Jed's hourglass menacingly. "Your hour has begun."
✦✧✦
q: is kahmunrah hot or no?
a: no... *glances nervously at ahkmenrah in the corner* absolutely not.