3-in-1: Zet and the Egyptian Mystery Cases Read online

  "Never mind," the big man said, brushing at the fur on his leopard skin. "After tomorrow night, it'll all be over. We can clean up our mess later."

  Clean up their mess later?

  Zet swallowed and ducked back out of sight. He didn't like that sound of that! Apparently, neither did Kat, because she'd begun to tremble all over.

  "That's what I wanted to t-t-talk to you about," the thin-man said.

  "Eh? What do you mean?" growled the big man.

  "It's j-just, I don't know if I l-l-like—" He stopped and gulped, audibly. "If I l-l-like s-selling the plans to Pharaoh's p—p-palace."

  The last was said so low, that Zet had to crane to hear it. But when he did, his jaw dropped.

  "Shut your mouth," growled the large man. "And keep it shut, or I'll have to do it permanently. Don't think I won't, either. We might go back a long way, you and I, but this is the biggest deal we've had. And I don't need you mucking it up."

  "B-b-but—"

  There was a long silence. Then the big man broke out in a laugh.

  "Don't grow a conscience on me now, old pal," the fat man's voice had grown friendly. "We'll do our deal. Stop worrying, that's your problem!" He grunted. "We just hand it over at the Rose Bark tomorrow night, and then we can forget all about it. We'll go out and celebrate. All the food and drink you could want. All right?"

  Zet risked a peek.

  The thin-man stared at the floor, but nodded. The other slapped him heartily on the back.

  "What are you doing here?" came a man's voice, right behind Zet.

  Zet turned quickly. Kat cried out as the young man seized both of them by their elbows.

  It was the young acolyte priest they'd seen outside on the steps. Apart from a single sidelock of hair, braided and tied in a tight coil, the rest of his head was shaved. His tunic was of the purest white linen. He looked down with distaste at Zet and Kat's filthy legs and feet. They were both sweaty and dirty from running in the dusty streets.

  "This is a holy place! You defile it with your filth!" he cried. "What are you doing in here?"

  "We just—"

  "Who's there?" growled the big man.

  Zet gulped and looked at Kat. Her eyes were wide with terror.

  Chapter Ten

  High Priest

  The acolyte yanked Zet and Kat from their hiding place behind the pillar.

  "My apologies, High Priest."

  High Priest? The big man with the rings was High Priest of the Temple of Amenemopet?

  How was that possible? What did this mean?

  The acolyte bowed low, and forced Zet and Kat to do the same. "Two children," he said, still bent forward as if speaking to the floor. "They must have snuck past me when I was returning to the steps."

  "Come here, my children," the High Priest said.

  "Go," the acolyte said, and shoved them forward.

  Zet didn't know whether to keep bowing, so he just kept his eyes on the ground. He remembered what their friend, the beggar woman near Padus's field said: the big one smells of temple incense. Now he understood why. The sweet smell was all around them, wafting through the shadows. It mixed with his terror, making him dizzy.

  This was who they were up against? The medjay, Merimose, would never believe Zet when he told him the High Priest was a thief! Zet knew they were in much bigger trouble than he could ever imagine. Not only could he never win, he and Kat might lose their lives. And the High Priest could order it done.

  He wanted to run, but that would only show their guilt. So he kept walking carefully forward, keeping his eyes cast down.

  Kat took Zet's hand. Her damp fingers shook.

  He had to think fast. He had to say something that would get them out of there. But what? What could he say?

  The High Priest made a dismissive wave with one jeweled hand at the acolyte.

  "Leave us," he said.

  The acolyte kept his head down. "Yes, Your Grace."

  "And count yourself lucky I'm in a lenient mood," the High Priest told him. "But do not forget your duty in this holy temple. Next time, you won't get off so easy."

  "I understand, Your Grace," the acolyte said. He sounded truly upset.

  The High Priest waited until the young man's footsteps died away.

  "So." He turned to Zet and Kat. "Come closer and let's have a look at you, shall we?"

  Trying to keep his knees from knocking, Zet came forward. He stopped a few feet away from the High Priest and the now silent thin-man. Kat still held Zet's hand. Her grip was so tight, his fingers were turning numb.

  "Look at me," the High Priest said. His voice was kind enough, but his eyes were like small, black stones.

  Zet guessed the High Priest was trying to figure out what they'd overheard.

  "Do you know where you are?" the High Priest asked.

  Zet swallowed, and then nodded. "A temple," he said, deciding to play dumb.

  "Not just any temple," he said. "This is the great temple of Amenemopet." He waited to see what sort of impression this made.

  "Oh," Zet said.

  "And do you know who I am?"

  "That man, the one with the hair-lock, called you the High Priest."

  "Indeed, I am."

  Zet got to his knees, and dragged his sister down with him. He pressed his face to the floor. "We are so very honored. I never imagined I might be in the presence of such a great man." He didn't need to pretend to be impressed. His voice trembled of its own accord. "We . . . well we came from the fields, you see. For help."

  "Ah. Indeed?" The man's voice still sounded suspicious, but a note of curiosity crept into it. "You risked the anger of the gods, and my anger, for help?"

  "Yes, Your Grace."

  "You are a brave boy, then. And you are farmers?"

  "Look at my legs, Your Grace, and my sister's," Zet said, still speaking to the floor. "You must know that we come straight from the fields. We did not realize our filth would be a stain on this clean holiness in here."

  Zet could feel the High Priest's eyes, drilling into his skull. Several moments passed. Sweat dribbled down his neck. He didn't dare move.

  The man broke the silence, and there was the hint of a smile in his voice. "It's true, you are dirty. But farmers keep our good people fed. We cannot forget that. Egypt is forever grateful to our field workers. And I like bravery. It amuses me."

  Zet didn't dare raise his head; he feared his relief would give them away.

  The High Priest laughed. "Come now, you may rise. I'm not Pharaoh." It was clear to Zet, however, that he was enjoying his power over them. And that realization just might let them escape.

  "We are too lowly to stand in your presence, Your Grace."

  "Now, now," he laughed. "It was wrong of you to come here, but I will hear your petition."

  Zet swallowed. "The reason we have come is because we have fallen on hard times. Our father has gone to fight in the war. My sister here and I must tend to our . . . work, by ourselves. And this has not been a good year. I don't want to burden you with our problems. They are too complicated to explain. I just want to tell you that soon, we will be in dire straights."

  "The temple is not a bank," the High Priest said, annoyance creeping into his voice.

  "We did not come asking for that kind of help."

  "Then what is it you want?"

  "We simply want your blessing. A blessing from a man as powerful as yourself. You have the ear of the gods. You have the ear of Amenemopet himself. We simply ask that you include us once in your prayers, that we may find relief from our troubles."

  The High Priest stepped forward. "You are a good boy." He touched Zet's shoulder, and Kat's in turn. "I grant you my blessing. And I will do as you ask. I will put in a good word to Amenemopet for you."

  "Thank you! Oh, thank you," he cried.

  Kat, still clinging to Zet's hand, nodded frantically.

  "Now run along. And heed what I told my acolyte. You were lucky to find me in good spirits."
/>   "Yes, thank you again, Your Grace, thank you!" He and Kat ran for the exit.

  "Boy!" the High Priest called.

  Zet turned.

  The fat man's face was a mask once again. His eyes looked dark and frightening, shadowed as they were in the dark hall. "Do not dare set foot in my temple again."

  Chapter Eleven

  An Unwanted Visitor

  Zet and Kat squeezed out through the temple's tall wooden door. On the steps, the acolyte priest scowled at them. But Zet was too relieved to feel very sorry for him. Still, he and Kat apologized. Then they hurried off down into the crowded boulevard.

  "I was sure we were dead!" Kat gasped.

  "Me too," Zet said.

  "I don't know how you thought up that whole business about the field," she said.

  "It was true, we were at a field, and we do need help," he said.

  She started to giggle. "Oh my gosh, and he gave us his blessing and everything!"

  They were running, and Zet started laughing too. One of those crazy, relieved laughs. After they'd gone a little way, their laughter sputtered out. Kat put her hand to her chest. She pulled him off to the side of the road and sank down against a wall.

  "Let's just catch our breath a moment. I feel sick," she said.

  "I don't feel so great myself."

  With the adrenaline draining from him, he felt suddenly exhausted.

  It was some time later that they roused themselves and joined the crowds.

  "I can't believe he's the High Priest!" Zet whispered.

  "I know," Kat said, shock clear in her voice. "He has everything. Why risk this?"

  It felt like his whole world had been turned upside down. The temples had always seemed so sacred. So overwhelming. So steadfast and true. To think that the High Priest of the Temple of Amenemopet was corrupt made him feel unsteady. He didn't want to believe it. But he had no choice.

  "Not all the priests are like that. Do you think?" Kat said.

  Zet took a few moments to consider this. "No," he said. "No, I don't. That acolyte wasn't."

  She nodded. "No, I think you're right."

  "But this is bad, Kat. The High Priest, selling plans to Pharaoh's palace? I don't know what the buyer wants with them, but it can't be good."

  "We have to go to the medjay," she said. "This is too big for us."

  "And say what? No one would believe us."

  They turned down a familiar street. They were nearing their little market, and the safe familiarity of their stall. He ran his hands along the wall of the building next to him as he walked. Then he smacked his fist into the bricks in frustration.

  "You're right. For once, I agree with you. But don't get all gloating on me," he said. "I'm not going up against the High Priest of Amenemopet. But I'm not going to tell the medjay either. They'll figure it out, it's their job!"

  Kat bit her lip. "Will they, though?"

  "Look, we can't win! We need to get back to the stall and start trying to make some sales. I'll die if I find out customers came and we weren't there."

  Business was in full swing when they reached the square.

  A man was arguing with a stall-owner over the price of beer. Salatis was filling a customer's shopping basket with dates. Their own stall looked strange, still closed and wrapped in its linen sheets. One of the sellers frowned his disapproval as Zet and Kat hurried over and began to pull the covers off.

  A few moments later, the sheets were folded and put away. They stood, eager to draw customers.

  "Clay pots!" Zet called. "Clay pots for sale! Sturdy pots and bowls!"

  Kat added her voice to his. It was nice to hear their shouts ringing off the stones. The frightening experiences they'd had over the last two days were quickly fading. He'd been crazy to strike up that bargain! Only the thought of poor Padus and his wife kept him from being happy.

  "The best clay pots in Thebes!" he called, trying to sound brighter than he felt.

  "Hey, boy!" called Salatis.

  Zet glanced over.

  "Come here," Salatis called.

  Zet looked at Kat, shrugged and then crossed the distance to the date-seller's stall.

  "You missed out. Someone came to your stall earlier."

  It was exactly what he'd feared. After days of no sales, someone showed up the one time he was gone. "Did you tell them we'd be back?"

  Salatis nodded. "They waited for you, you know," he said in a sour, disapproving voice. "For a long time."

  Zet's shoulders sank. "Thanks for telling me. Something happened to keep us away. I just hope they'll come back. We really need to sell our pots."

  "They weren't here for the pots."

  Zet's head shot up and he stared into Salatis's cold, droopy eyes. "What did they want? Who was it?"

  Salatis rubbed his stubbly chin, as if enjoying Zet's concern. "Someone asking about that thief."

  "A medjay?" Zet said, heart hammering.

  "Nope. Nosy as the other one, but nope. He said he was doing some special investigating. For the High Priest of Amenemopet. And that he heard about some pot-seller boasting about seeing the thief. I told him that was you. I pointed out your stall, and like I said, he waited around a long time. Seems your information is in demand, boy." He laughed, and his rough laugh turned to a fit of coughing.

  "I see," Zet said. "Well, thanks for telling me." His heart slammed in his ears as he headed back to where Kat stood.

  She hopped from foot to foot, anxious to hear what Salatis had said.

  He told her, quickly.

  Kat blanched.

  "If they come back—"

  "Not if. They're coming back!" Zet said. "They could be here any minute."

  "What if the thin-man comes with them? What if they take us to the High Priest for questioning? He'll recognize us, he'll connect everything! He'll know why we were in the temple." Kat was shaking all over.

  "We need to cover the stall. We need to leave. Now."

  In a frenzy, they threw the sheets over the mountains of clayware. Salatis and the others looked on in surprise. The market didn't close for some time yet. Just as they tied the last piece of linen down, Zet spotted a familiar face headed their way.

  "The thin-man!" he gasped. "Duck!"

  "Oh, no!" Kat cried, shaking in terror as she crouched toward the back of the stall.

  "He's coming." He pushed her through a narrow gap between the stacks. "Run!" he cried, struggling out after her.

  Chapter Twelve

  In Hiding

  Zet and Kat darted between stalls. Their neighbor vendors stepped out of the way, their mouths open in shock.

  "Hey! You!" came a shout.

  Zet glanced back. The thin-man had someone with him. A huge man with a knife strapped to a belt at his waist. He wore his chest bare, and his muscles bulged. Recognition dawned on the thin-man's face.

  "S-s-stop!" he cried.

  Zet ran for his life.

  He was already spent from the last few hours. He dug deep within himself to try and find a store of energy somewhere. Kat was flagging. She'd begun to trip. He held her by the arm, dragging her along.

  "Don't stop," he gasped. "Keep going."

  She nodded, breathing hard.

  They'd never make it home. They needed somewhere to hide. But where?

  He hauled her around a corner. Then he knew.

  "Quick, this way," he said.

  Footsteps pounded close behind as they turned a corner, and then another. Zet and Kat were making headway, but not by much.

  "Just a little further," he said. "We have to sprint."

  Together, they pulled out a blast of energy from nothing. He glanced back. They'd lost the men. Together he and Kat plunged through the curtained doorway into Padus's house.

  Ama was in the middle of cleaning the floor. She glanced up in surprise.

  "Zet!" she said, recognizing him at once.

  He was bent forward with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. "We need to hide," he said.
r />   "Upstairs." She hurried them to the second floor. At the top was a small, bright room, filled with tools and buckets. In the center, on a great open space on the floor, lay a giant piece of thick, wet papyrus paper. Next the paper lay several mallets. A trap door led to the roof.

  "There are piles of old burlap sacks up there that Padus uses for his plants. Maybe you could wrap yourselves up in them. I'm sorry I don't have a better suggestion!"

  "Where's Padus?" Zet said.

  "He decided to risk going to his field. A customer was meeting him, and we can't afford to lose the business."

  Zet nodded, knowing exactly how Padus felt. "I hope he doesn't get caught."

  They hurried onto the roof.

  Rather than hiding themselves, they inched up to the edge of the building and looked down. Below, the thin-man and his burly helper wandered into the alley. They were no longer running. Instead, they looked frustrated and tired.

  "How could you lose them?" the muscled man said.

  "It w-w-wasn't my f-fault!"

  "Let's just head back. The kids are long gone by now."

  Zet breathed a sigh of relief, and Kat did the same. They rolled onto their backs and stared at the bright afternoon sky.

  "We're in big trouble, huh," Kat said.

  "That's for sure," Zet agreed.

  They'd been pulled in deeper than he ever thought possible. This whole situation was turning into the worst, scariest mess he could ever imagine. It would ruin them. They couldn't go back to their stall. They couldn't resume their old sales.

  What would they tell their mother?

  They lay silent for a very long time, each of them adrift in their own frightened thoughts.

  The trap door creaked open.

  "I heard you were here," Padus said.

  Zet nodded, not knowing what to say. He realized he was in shock.