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Princess Isis and her pet cat, Cleo, stood outside the towering carved gates to the Afterlife. It had been rotten luck to fall off a pyramid and die at only ten years of age, but Isis wasnât worried â the Afterlife was meant to be great. People were dying to go there, after all! Her mummyâs wrappings were so uncomfortable she couldnât wait a second longer to get in, get her body back and wear normal clothes again.
âOi, Aaanuuubis, Anubidooby!â Isis shouted impatiently. âWhen youâre ready, you old dog!â
Cleo started to claw Isisâs shoulder. Then she yowled, jumping from Isisâs arms and cowering behind her legs.
âCalm down, fluffpot,â Isis said, bending to stroke her pet. âHe canât exactly woof me to death!â The princess laughed, but froze when she stood up. Now she understood what Cleo had been trying to tell her.
Looming up in front of her was the enormous jackal-headed god of the Underworld himself, Anubis. He was so tall that Isisâs neck hurt to look up at him. He glared down his long snout at her with angry red eyes. There was nothing pet-like about him. Isis gulped.
ââWHEN YOUâRE READY, YOU OLD DOG?ââ Anubis growled. ââANUBIDOOBY?ââ
Isis gave the god of the Underworld a winning smile and held out five shining amulets. She had been buried with them so she could give them to Anubis to gain entry to the Afterlife. There was a sixth amulet too â a gorgeous green one. But Isis had hidden it under her arm. Green was her favourite colour, and surely Anubis didnât need all six.
Except the god didnât seem to agree. His fur bristled in rage. âFIVE? Where is the sixth?â he demanded.
Isis shook her head. âI was only given five,â she said innocently.
To her horror, Anubis grabbed the green amulet from its hiding place. âYou little LIAR!â he bellowed.
Thunder started to rumble. The ground shook. Anubis snatched all six amulets and tossed them into the air. With a loud crack and a flash of lightning, they vanished.
âYou hid them from me!â he boomed. âNow I have hidden them from you â in the most dangerous places throughout time.â
Isisâs bandaged shoulders drooped in despair. âSo I c-c-canât come into the Afterlife then?â
âNot until you have found each and every one. But first, you will have to get out of thisâ¦â Anubis clicked his fingers. A life-sized pottery statue of the goddess Isis, whom Isis was named after, appeared before him.
Isis felt herself being sucked into the statue, along with Cleo. âWhat are you doing to me?â she yelled.
âYou can only escape if somebody breaks the statue,â Anubis said. âSo youâll have plenty of time to think about whether trying to trick the trickster god himself was a good idea!â
The walls of the statue closed around Isis, trapping her and Cleo inside. The sound of Anubisâs evil laughter would be the last sound they would hear for a long, long timeâ¦
Squeak-thump, squeak-thump, squeak-thump.
Tom Sullivan loved the noise that his trainers made on the shiny floor of the museum. He drank in the smell of wood polish and three-thousand-year-old dust. All the lights were off, apart from those in the display cabinets. All the visitors had gone home. It was just him and Dad.
He reached his dadâs office. It was on the first floor, at the end of the Ancient Greece section. The brass nameplate on the door said âDr James Sullivan, Archaeologistâ.
âOne day Iâll have one just like it,â Tom said to himself. ââTom Sullivan, History Geniusâ. Ha!â
He knocked on the door.
âHi, Dad, will you be long?â Tom asked.
Dad was poring over a sheaf of papers, which were scattered across his untidy desk. âEh?â he replied.
âDo I have time to explore a bit more?â Tom said.
Dad looked up at him, his bright blue eyes staring out blankly from behind his glasses. âOh, Iâm not hungry, thanks,â he said. âI donât like cheese and pickle.â He turned his attention back to the papers.
Tom knew his dad was lost in a world of his own, full of pyramids and Romans and Vikings. âIâm off to fight with some gladiators now, Dad,â he said. âMaybe some cavemen too.â
âThatâs nice,â Dad mumbled.