Chris Blake - Gladiator Clash

The statue wobbled to the right, then it rocked back to the left. Tom rushed forward to save it. “Nooo…!” he cried. But he was too late. The statue toppled on to the floor and smashed into a million pieces.

“Uh oh,” Tom gulped. “Dad’s going to kill me! The museum’s going to kill me! Everyone’s going to kill me!”

Tom’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the mess. There were pottery fragments everywhere. Then something very strange began to happen. The bits started to move and shake.

Tom gasped as five fingers reached out from what was left of the statue. The fingers were wrapped in dirty, torn bandages. Like an Egyptian mummy! Tom stared in shock as the fingers stretched out into a hand, opening and closing as if it was trying to grab him. The hand was followed by a wrist, then an arm…

Suddenly a whole, groaning, child-sized mummy sprang from the wreckage. The shape of some sort of mummified animal stood next to it. Both were wrapped head to toe in crusty shreds of cloth, the loose ends flapping as they moved. They looked at Tom and started walking towards him.

“Aaaargh! Don’t hurt me!” Tom cried.

But to his surprise the bandaged animal started to purr and then circle round his leg in a friendly manner.

Tom stared down at it. “Oh my gosh! Is that really a cat?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, of course! It’s my cat, Cleo!” the mummy said, with a young girl’s voice.

The mummy stood up tall, which, Tom noticed, wasn’t as tall as him, and straightened its back with a crack. A cloud of dust billowed round the mummy and wafted to the floor, as if someone had beaten a grimy rug with a stick.

“Y-you spoke!” Tom said, wiping his sweaty palms on his school trousers.

The mummy folded its arms. “Well, of course I spoke! What did you expect me to do?”

“Er… but… I can understand you.”

“I’m not surprised. Father always said I was special,” the mummy sniffed. “That’s why he named me after the goddess of magic. My name’s Princess Isis Amun-Ra. I’m ten. Who are you?”

Tom scratched his head in exactly the same way his dad had done. “I’m Tom,” he said.

The ragged Egyptian princess frowned. “Just Tom? You don’t have a title?”

“Sorry if that’s not good enough for you,” said Tom, slightly annoyed.

“I suppose it’ll have to be,” Isis said. She picked up the scrawny cat mummy. “We’ve been stuck inside that statue for a zillion, billion years. Cleo’s not much of a talker, unfortunately. I don’t think I’ve ever been so bored.”

Tom looked properly at Isis. She didn’t seem quite so scary now that he knew she was just a ten year old like him. Even though she looks in worse shape than my great-grandma and smells weird , he thought. But, despite the fact that he was fascinated by this mummy-girl, Tom started to edge towards the door. He had seen films about mummys coming to life and he knew they liked to eat brains.

“Look,” he said. “I’m going to have to go home very soon. So… it was nice meeting you. Bye!”

“You can’t just leave me here. Take me with you,” Isis commanded, putting a hand on her hip.

“No way!” Tom said. “You’re an Ancient Egyptian mummy. My mum will go nuts if you drop bits of bandage all over my bedroom.”

“Bandage? My father was King of Egypt. These are regal wrappings , I’ll have you know!” Isis snapped.

“Look, Your Royal Dustiness, I’m a lowly human boy with a brand-new carpet and a mum who doesn’t care much for mess. So that kind of rules out grotty, ancient house guests – even princesses.”

Clomp, clomp, clomp . Suddenly, Tom heard footsteps getting closer.

“Dad’s coming!” he said. “Quick! Hide!”

Isis shook her head. “Hide? You must be joking! I’ve only just got out of that statue. I’m not hiding away again.”

“Tom!” Dad called out.

In a panic, Tom glanced around the room. For a second he thought about bundling Isis and Cleo into the shadows. But that would never work. Isis was rooted to the spot, arms folded. Cleo wrapped herself around Isis’s ankles. Tom made do with hastily kicking some of the broken pieces of pottery behind a nearby display case.

As Dad walked in, Tom stood in front of Isis and Cleo, desperately trying to make himself big enough to hide them both.

“Ah, there you are!” Dad said. “Having fun?”

Tom looked at his dad’s face. He didn’t seem to have seen Isis or Cleo, even though they were both standing right behind Tom.

“Yep,” he said.

Then Isis stepped forward and waved at his dad. Tom’s heart flipped over in his chest. He tried hopping to one side to hide her again.

“I’ll be ready to go in five,” Dad said. “OK?” Then he shuffled off back to his office as though nothing unusual was going on.

Tom breathed out slowly. “I don’t believe it. Dad didn’t even notice you. It was like you were… invisible!”

“Well, that decides it,” Isis said merrily. “We’re coming home with you, whether you like it or not.” She clapped her hands together in a cloud of dust. “Lead the way! I haven’t got all day, you know.”

“Eek!” Isis shrieked, shrinking back in fear. “You didn’t tell me you were a sorceror.”

“I’m not,” Tom said with a sigh, as he switched his bedroom light on and off. “It’s just a light.”

Isis slowly stepped into Tom’s bedroom, looking round it curiously. The ride home from the museum had been interesting, as Isis was convinced that the car was a magic, horseless chariot. Tom had tried to fill Isis in on everything that had happened since she died, but the Egyptian princess had a thousand questions about the modern world. Tom was exhausted from his attempts to explain everything from electricity to aeroplanes.

“I tell you what, let’s Google a few things on the computer,” Tom suggested. “Maybe we can find out more about your world too.”

Tom sat at his desk and hit a button on the keyboard. The bright colours of the monitor lit the room.

Isis jumped up and cowered behind Tom. “It’s a demon from the Underworld come to get me!” she shouted.

Tom laughed. “It’s OK,” he said. “It’s just my computer.”

Tapping away on his keyboard, fact by fact, Tom unravelled Isis’s past.

“So you’re from Ancient Egypt in 2800 BC,” he said. “That makes you almost five thousand years old.” Tom whistled softly.

“Let me see!” Isis said, looking over his shoulder. “Does it say that I was a brilliant dancer and could play the harp better than anyone else in the Nile delta?”

Suddenly, the ground beneath them rumbled and the air started to whip around the room like a mysterious whirlwind.

“Is this another modern invention?” Isis asked nervously.

“N-n-no,” Tom stammered. “Not that I know of!”

“SILENCE, children!” a voice boomed.

Tom peered into the gloom and saw two red eyes glowing menacingly at him. He shrank back in horror.

Isis swung around to face the owner of the voice as he stepped out of the shadows.

“Hello, Anubis,” she said. “You didn’t think I’d ever get out of that statue, did you? Well, never underestimate a princess.”

Tom looked up… at the god of the Underworld! He recognised the jackal-headed god from pictures he had seen in his dad’s books.