Horrors of the black ring

Goosebumps (R) Series 2000 No. 18
HORRORS OF THE BLACK RING
by R.l. STINE
Copyright 1999 Parachute Press, Inc.
BOOK JACKET INFORMATION
Goosebumps No. 18
APPLE FICTION
Ring around the creature!
Welcome to the new millennium of fear
Goosebumps (R) SERIES 2000
I stared deep into the ring. A cloudy formshifted inside the jewel. It moved as if--asif it were alive. Miss Gold turned the ring in the light. Thecloud became a face. It frowned inside thejewel. "What is that?" I gasped. "It's a flaw in the jewel," Miss Goldexplained. I couldn't take my eyes off the ring. Theface inside was so ugly. So creepy. Soevil.
SCHOLASTIC INC.RL4 008-012


HORRORS OF THE BLACK RING

"Beth--you promised!" my seven-year-oldsister, Amanda, whined. "You promised to take meto the petting zoo after school today!" "I didn't promise you anything," Iinsisted. It was a warm spring day. Amanda and I werewalking to school. She buzzed around me like a mosquito. Shelooks kind of like a bug too. Short blackhair, skinny arms and legs like sticks, apointy little chin, and beady black eyes. Ihiked up my baggy cargo pants and swatted heraway. I'm so different from Amanda, you'd never guesswe are both in the Welch family. I've gotred hair to my shoulders, tons of freckles,round blue eyes, and a round face. I'm notcrazy about the way I look. But at least Idon't look like an insect. "Be-every-eth!" Amanda zipped in front of meagain. "I heard you say it last night. You said,"Amanda, tomorrow after school I'll do anything youwant!"" I snorted. "I would never say that! Now,get out of my way. You're going to make us latefor school!" "Please?" she begged. "I really miss thosecute little goats." "You don't miss the goats," I shotback. "You miss shooting rubber bands at them." It's true. She shoots rubber bands at thepetting zoo animals. She likes to see howthey react. I can't stand it. I loveanimals. I hate to see them get hurt. "Besides," I added, "I don't have time today.I've got to work on the Spring Carnival afterschool." "Oooo--the Spring Carnival," Amandateased. "You mean the "I Love DannyJacobs Fair"?" My face suddenly felt hot. "What are youtalking about?" "I know you have a crush on him," Amanda said. "On Danny Jacobs? You must be crazy!"I shrieked. My voice was just a little too loud. "You're only working on the carnival becausehe's the head of it," Amanda accused. "I'm one of the heads too," I remindedher. "We're cochairpeople with TinaCrowley." "Whatever." Amanda rolled her eyes. "Theimportant thing is, you want to be with Danny.That's why you won't take me to the petting zoo!" "Amanda--shush!" I cried. "You're totallymaking this up. I--" I stopped as a shrill scream ripped through theair. I whirled around. "Anthony--no!" I gasped. Anthony Paul Gonzales came roaringdown the street on his bike. "Look out!" he shrieked. "No brakes!" A truck rumbled toward him. He screamed and swerved onto the sidewalk. The truck zoomed past. Anthony flew rightat us. "Watch out!" he warned. At the last second, Anthony squeezed hisbrakes--and veered away. Amanda and I clutched each other, tryingto catch our breath. "You jerk! You almost ran us over!" Igasped. Anthony let out an evil laugh. I hatethat laugh. "Beth, how can you fall for that old "nobrakes" gag?" he asked, grinning. "You'retoo easy to trick." "I am not!" I fumed. "You just missed us!" "You probably didn't even see us,"Amanda sneered. "Your sunglasses are toodark." Anthony proudly adjusted his dark glasses."Like 'em? My brother gave them to me. Theycost a hundred dollars." "Your brother wasted his money," Amandamuttered. Anthony is in my sixth-grade class atschool. He's tall and thin with short darkhair. He's always playing mean tricks. Not juston me--on everybody. He thinks he's reallyfunny. Two years ago he told me that my cat,Benson, had been hit by a car. "I saw himlying in the street!" he said. I screamed and ran outside to check. Iloved Benson. My cat was sitting calmly in the frontyard, licking his fur. He was fine. It was onlyAnthony's idea of a joke. Benson died of old age last year. When Itold Anthony, he laughed. He's totallycold. Lately, Anthony had been meaner to me thanever. He wanted to be one of the heads of thecarnival. But the class didn't vote for him. He's been playing tricks on me eversince. I'll get even with him somehow, I thoughtangrily. The trouble is, I'm not the get-even type. I mean, I'm not good at thinking up nastytricks. Maybe I should take lessons fromAmanda. She's great at it. "See you at school, fool," Anthonysneered. He started to pedal away down thesidewalk. I noticed something lying on the sidewalk afew feet ahead of him. It was small andblack. It twitched. It's a bird! I realized. And Anthony wasabout to run over it! "Anthony, stop!" I screamed. He didn't stop. He didn't even turnaround. I dove forward and grabbed the seat of his bike.I yanked on it. He jolted to a stop. "Hey! What's yourproblem?" he snapped. I'd stopped him just in time. Anthony hadnearly crushed the bird. "Look!" I cried. "Its wing is broken.And you almost killed it!" "It's half-dead anyway," Anthonygroaned. I crouched down beside the bird. It struggledto stand up and fly away. But its left wing wouldn'tmove. "Poor little birdie," I crooned. Amanda mimicked me. ""Poor littlebirdie." You're such a sap, Beth." I didn't listen to her. I gently pickedup the bird. "What a goody-goody," Anthony muttered. "Tell Miss Gold I'm going to belate," I told Anthony. "I'm goingto take this little bird home. We'll gethim all fixed up. Won't we, little bird?"I stroked the bird's head with my pinkie finger. "Oh, brother." Amanda sighed. "You reallyare a goody-goody, Beth." "Just shut up and go to school," I snapped. "Hey, Beth--look!" Anthony's darkglasses made him appear even meaner thanusual. "You know what bikes are good for?Squishing things!" He pointed at a wormsquirming on the sidewalk. Before I could stophim, he rolled his front tire over it. SQUISH. "Anthony!" I shrieked. "How could you dothat?" Anthony and Amanda laughed their heads off."You're so lame," Amanda said. "I am not!" I cried. "Every living creatureis important--even worms! You guys arehorrible." My little speech made them laugh even harder. "Someday you won't think it's so funny," Iwarned. "Someday someone will try to squash you.Maybe it'll even be me." Anthony doubled over with laughter. "I'm so scared," Amanda said sarcastically. I wheeled around and took the bird home. Ihad to admit, I could see why they were laughing.Maybe I am kind of a goody-goody. But Idon't care.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Miss Gold."I walked into school about an hour later. Miss Gold smiled at me. "Anthonytold me why you were late. How's the sickbird?" "I think he's going to be okay," Ireported. "My mother is taking him to the vet thisafternoon." "Good. That was very responsible of you, Beth."She smiled at me as I sat down in my seat.Her smile is really beautiful. Her teeth arewhite and perfect and her eyes twinkle. "Some things are more important than being on timefor school," she went on. "Saving a life isone of them. Even if it's only a bird'slife." I beamed as I sat in my seat. Everybodyloves Miss Gold. She looks just like her name sounds. She's young andpretty. Her shiny golden hair comesdown to just under her chin. She's even got somefreckles sprinkled across her nose. They makeher look as if she's still a kid, almost. "I'm returning your short stories now,"Miss Gold announced. "I'm very proud ofall of you. This week's stories were excellent!" Miss Gold began to hand back our papers.When she passed mine to me, I noticed somethingflash on her hand. "What's that?" I asked, staring at her finger."Is that a new ring?" "Why, yes," she replied. "Do you like it?"She held her hand in front of me so I couldsee the ring. It was the strangest ring I ever saw. Allblack. A large, shiny black jewel was setin a thick black band. I stared at the jewel. It flashed in myeyes at first, so that I couldn't see it clearly.I grabbed Miss Gold's hand and brought itcloser. I gasped. "Miss Gold--something moved inthere. Something is alive inside that ring!"

I stared deep into the ring. A cloudy formshifted inside the jewel. It moved as if--asif it were alive. Miss Gold turned the ring in the light. Thecloud became a face. It frowned inside thejewel. I shuddered. It can't be a face! I thought.It looks so--so evil! "What is that?" I gasped. "It's a flaw in the jewel," Miss Goldexplained. "A cloudy spot. And if you catchit in the right light, it looks like a face,doesn't it?" I nodded. I couldn't take my eyes off thering. The face inside it was so ugly. Socreepy. "Such a strange optical illusion," MissGold said, almost to herself. "Do you like it?" I gulped. "Um, I guess so. I can'tstop staring at it." She smiled. "I know. I have the sameproblem." "Where did you get the ring?" I asked. "I found it in the school parking lot," shereplied. "I thought I'd wear it until someoneclaims it." "Has anyone claimed it yet?" I asked. "No," she said. "And it's a good thing. Because thering is stuck on my finger. I-I can't get itoff." She tugged on the ring, showing me. It stuck ather knuckle. "It's almost as if it shrank onmy finger," she explained. Miss Gold passed out the rest of the papers.My eyes kept going back to her ring. She returned to the front of the room. "I knowyou're all getting ready for the SpringCarnival," she said. "You've got projectsto make for the art sale. And the food committee hasa lot of cooking to do. So"--she paused andgrinned at us--"I'm not giving you any homeworkthis weekend!" We all cheered. Miss Gold is thegreatest. We settled down to study geography.Miss Gold pulled a map over to thechalkboard. Her black ring flashed in the light. I keptthinking about the face in the jewel. Sure, I thought, it's just some kind of smokyflaw. It only looks like a face. It only seems to be moving. So why is it so creepy? Why can't I stop thinking about it?

"How could I be so stupid?" I grumbled. Itossed my paint brush onto the table. I wastrying to paint two hands clasped together--asymbol of brotherhood. But I forgot how hardit is to paint hands. "I ask myself the same question every day," Anthonysaid. ""How could Beth be so stupid?"'" I glared at him but didn't say anything.He's so mean. And no matter what I sayto him, he always gets the last word. We were in the art room, working on ourprojects for the carnival art sale. I was incharge of the art sale. Danny was working on gamesand activities. Tina Crowley was organizingthe food. Everyone in the sixth grade was makingsomething for the sale. I stared at my painting oflumpy, stumpy fingers and sighed. Nobody wouldwant to buy this picture. Anthony peeked over my shoulder. "That'sgreat, Beth," he said. "What's it supposedto be? Why are those worms crawling over thatsandwich?" I could feel my face turning red. Iglanced across the room at Danny Jacobs,to see if he'd heard. He was busy moldingsomething out of clay. Danny is so cute. He's gothoney-brown hair, big brown eyes, and reallylong eyelashes. He's a little taller than Iam, and very athletic. He's one of the bestplayers on the soccer team. "Or maybe you painted two plants shakinghands?" Anthony teased. "If you're so great, let's see what you'repainting," I replied. He flashed me a mean grin. "You're goingto love it!" he promised. I stepped up to his easel and gasped. Hewas painting a round-faced girl with red hair andbulging, crossed eyes. "Is that supposed to be me?" I cried. "Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" he crowed."You guessed right!" I swallowed. The picture was really ugly.But I didn't want to let Anthony know ithurt me. "I don't look like that," I sniffed."Maybe if you took off your sunglasses you'dsee me better." Anthony tugged the dark glasses down hisnose and stared at me. "Nope--sorry," hesaid. "I can see better with my sunglasseson. It must be the glare bouncing off your pastyskin." I opened my mouth to say something back--somethinggood and mean. But the meanest thing I could think of was"Oh, yeah?" I closed my mouth. Someday I'll get him good, I fumed. IfI could only think of a way ... I decided to ignore him. I had no otherchoice. I glanced across the room at Danny.He was washing the clay off his hands. Maybe this is my chance to talk to him, Ithought. I crossed the room and stood besidehim at the sink. "Hi," I said. He dried his hands. "Hi. How's your artproject going?" "Not so great," I admitted. I cleared mythroat. "Um--do you think you could help me withsomething? I'm trying to paint hands, and I can'tget the fingers right. Could I use your hands as amodel?" Danny nodded. "Sure. I'm waiting for myclay pot to dry, anyway." He came over to the table and set his handsflat. "Like this?" he asked. "That's good," I replied. I picked up mybrush and started fixing up the worm fingers. I couldfeel Danny watching. It made me nervous.I had a hard time concentrating with him sitting rightthere. What if he thinks my picture is lame?I thought. "Oo, look at the lovebirds!" Anthonypoked his head around his easel. He made juicykissing noises. SMACK, SMACK,SLUUURP. Oh, no, I thought. I should have known this wouldhappen. "Shut up, Gonzales," Danny snappedat him. Nothing could make Anthony stop. "Beth ispainting her true love. Can I come to the wedding?" "Anthony--stop it!" I cried. He'sruining everything, I thought. Just as he always does. Anthony puckered up and made the kissysounds again. Danny leaped to his feet. "You're lookingfor major trouble." "Hey--watch out. I know karate!" Anthonyshot back. Danny threw himself at Anthony and knockedhim to the floor. Anthony's sunglasses flewacross the room. "Danny--don't!" I pleaded. They rolled around on the floor, kicking andpunching and crashing into chairs. "Hey, hey, HEY!" Mr. Martin, the artteacher, raced over to pull the boys apart."What's going on here? Have you lost your minds?" Anthony leaped up, wiping his nose. "Hejumped me. For no reason at all.He's crazy! He just attacked me!" "Not true!" Danny protested. "He askedfor it." "All right, all right." Mr. Martin sighed."Danny, go back over there where you were working before.Anthony, you stay here. Stay away from eachother. And if I catch you fighting again, you'reboth going to the principal's office." Danny frowned and went back to the clay table.Anthony leaned close to me and whispered,"Wave bye-bye to your boyfriend!" "Anthony, you stink!" I muttered. "Ouch! That hurt!" he teased. I can't stand him. He went back to the easel. He startedpainting very quickly, humming as he worked. I knew he was adding to the ugly picture ofme. I had to see what he was painting. Icouldn't help myself. I glanced at his paper. He was paintingsnot-colored drips running out of my nose. "Like it?" he asked. "I was thinking of giving itto Danny. I know he'll want a picture ofhis girlfriend to hang inside his locker." I hate him. I really hate him. Did Imention that?
After art class, Danny caught up with me inthe hall. I was on my way to the cafeteria forlunch. "Anthony is a total pain," Danny said."He's always in my face." "Mine too," I replied. I smiled.Maybe Anthony did me a favor after all.His bad jokes were bringing Danny and me together! "Can I sit with you at lunch?" Danny askedme. "I'd like to tell you about some ideas I have for thecarnival." Yes! I thought. A little shiver of excitementshot through my skin. Stay cool, I told myself.Don't act too goofy. "Sure," I said, trying to sound as if it wasno big deal to sit next to the cutest boy in theclass. "You know--" A shrill scream interrupted me. "Huh? What was that?" I gasped. "It came from in there." Danny pointedto Miss Gold's room. We turned and burstinto the classroom as another scream ripped through theair. Miss Gold stood by the chalkboard, herface twisted in horror. "What happened?" I cried. "What'swrong?"

Trembling, the teacher pointed to the chalkboard. Every inch of it was covered with words. Someone hadscrawled them over and over: THE CARNIVALIS DOOMED. THE CARNIVAL ISDOOMED. THE CARNIVAL IS DOOMED. "Wow," Danny gasped. "This is sick." "Who did it?" I demanded. Miss Gold's face crumpled, as if shewere about to burst into tears. "I don't know!" shewailed. "I only left the room for a fewminutes!" Wow, I thought. Miss Gold is reallyupset. I stared at the scribbled words. "Who would dothis?" "It's got to be a joke," Miss Goldmurmured. "What if it isn't a joke?" I asked."What if somebody is serious about this?" Dannyglanced at me. "What if someone is planningto do something horrible? Really horrible?" Miss Gold shook her head. She didn'tseem so upset anymore. "I don't think so.I'll bet someone is just trying to scare us alittle." "Well, anyway, we'll erase thechalkboard," I offered. "Yeah," Danny agreed. "No problem." "Thank you." Miss Gold sighed. "That'ssweet of you guys." I grabbed an eraser and tossed another oneto Danny. We started to work, erasing the scrawledwords. The carnival is doomed. The carnival isdoomed. The words repeated in my head, over and over.What did they mean? Everybody loves the spring carnival, Ithought. Why would anyone want to ruin it? "Hey, guys, what's the word?" Anthonystrolled into the room. "Playing teacher's petagain, Beth?" "Somebody scribbled all over thechalkboard," Danny told him. "Wantto help us?" "Hey--I'd love to, but I can't."Anthony started to back out of the room. "I'vegot bad allergies, you know. Chalk dustmakes me sneeze." I stepped toward him, waving the chalkyeraser. "Oh, yeah? Let's see." Anthony held up his hands. "Really," heinsisted. "I'm serious." I stared at Anthony's hands. Hey, wait, I thought. Anthony's hands--they were covered with chalkdust.

"Will-what are you looking at?" Anthonystammered, swinging his hands behind his back. "Your hands are covered with chalk!" I accused. Danny, Miss Gold, and I stared hard athim. He backed away. "They--they are not!" he cried. "It isn'tchalk--it's clay! I was helping Mr. Martinclean up after art class!" "Yeah. Sure," Danny muttered. Weboth knew that helping teachers clean up is not thekind of thing Anthony Gonzales usually does. "I've got to go," Anthony said. Hehurried out of the room. "He's got to go wash the evidence off hishands," Danny said. "I'll bet Anthony did this," Ireplied. "He wanted to be in charge of thecarnival. But no one wanted him." "Yeah, I bet he's jealous," Dannyagreed. Miss Gold shook her head. "I can'tbelieve Anthony would do this," she murmured."The kids in this school are so nice. Nothing likethis has ever happened here. ..." But it did happen, I thought. Somebody in this school is not so nice. ...
Amanda started driving me crazy as soon asI got up the next morning. "Help me arrange my Barbies today!" shebegged. "I want to line them all up in order--from prettiest to ugliest." I sighed. "Amanda, all Barbieslook exactly the same. One can't be prettierthan another." "That's not true! Surfer Barbie isbeautiful, but Rollerblade Barbie is not sohot." "Oh, please. Can't you do it yourself? I'mbusy. I have to go to school today." "Liar!" Amanda cried. "It's Saturday!" "I know that," I replied. "I have carnivalstuff to do." Some of the kids hadn't finished their artprojects for the carnival--including me. Also,I was in charge of the art sale, so I had to be thereto help. "But you promised!" Amanda cried. "I did not!" I insisted. "You're such aliar." "You're the liar!" she accused. "You neverkeep your promises, Beth Breath." "That's because I never make them in the first place--Amanda Panda." I hate it when she calls me Beth Breath.It sounds like I have bad breath or something--and Idon't. And Amanda Panda just doesn't sound asbad. "That stupid carnival takes up all yourtime. What about my cow eyeball?" "Cow eyeball? What are you talking about?"I told you she was nuts. "For my science class. The teacher said we couldmake up our own project. So I decidedto dissect a cow eyeball. To see what'sinside. And you said you'd help me!" "Yuck. Where on earth did you get a coweyeball?" I asked. "I've had it in my room for a week. Igot it from Teddy Jackson." TeddyJackson is a boy in her class. His fatherworks in some kind of lab. Teddy is always givingAmanda gross stuff to keep in her room. "I can't believe you brought a real coweyeball into the house," I said. "And you thinkI'm going to cut into it with a knife? You'recrazier than I thought." "You're crazy for liking Danny Jacobs!"she shot back. "I don't like him!" I protested. "I'msorry, Amanda, but I can't help you today.Maybe after the carnival is over." "That will be too late!" Amanda startedthrowing one of her world-famous temper tantrums."My project is due Monday!" "I said I was sorry. There's nothing I can doabout it." "You'll be sorry, all right!" Amandascreeched. "Just wait and see!" She slammed the door. I hurried to the kitchen to find Mom. Shealways hides out in the kitchen when she hears mefighting with Amanda. "Everything okay?" she asked when I stormedin. "Why did you have to have another baby after me?"I demanded. "I would have been so happy as anonly child." Mom just shook her head. "Someday you'll beglad to have a sister." I didn't think that day would ever come. But Ikept my mouth shut. I had something else on mymind. "Where's the bird?" I asked. "Did youtake him to the vet?" Mom nodded. "The vet put a splint on itswing. I bought a little cage for it on my wayhome. It's out on the back porch." I went out to the porch. The little bird satquietly in the cage. Mom had left him apile of birdseed. It didn't look as ifhe'd eaten much of it. "How are you, little bird?" I cooed. "How'syour broken wing?" His wing was bandaged and it looked heavy. Poorlittle guy, I thought. He doesn't look toogood. I decided to name him Chirpy. I knew it wasa stupid name. But I couldn't think of anythingbetter. I sat outside on the porch for a while. Ithought it would be nice to keep Chirpy company. After a while, Mom called me in to lunch."How's the bird doing, honey?" she asked. "Not so great," I answered. "Maybe he'll be better tomorrow," Mom said."Amanda, did you see Beth's bird?" "She should have let Anthony run over it,"Amanda muttered. "How can you be so mean?" I demanded. "You andyour cow eyeballs." "I'm not speaking to you, Beth Breath," Amandasaid. "Good," I replied. "I don't wantto hear anything you have to say, anyway." "Girls--" Mom pleaded. The rest of the lunch was pretty quiet. Wetalked to Mom. But we wouldn't talk to eachother. "I wish your father was here," Mom grumbled.Dad was away on a business trip. "Every timehe goes out of town, you girls start fighting." After lunch I hurried to my room. I hadto get ready to go to school. As I grabbed my sweater, the phone rang.I have a phone in my room with my own separateline. I picked it up. "Hello?" "Stay away," a strange voicewhispered. The voice was muffled--as if someone weretrying to disguise it. "Stay away. I'm warning you. Don't goto school today."

"Hello? Who is this?" I demanded."Anthony? Is that you?" CLICK. The caller hung up. I sat on my bed, shaking. I couldn't helpthinking about what had happened in Miss Gold'sroom the day before. The carnival is doomed. Was that Anthony? I asked myself. Hardto tell. The voice was so muffled. It could have beenanybody. Then I heard a noise from Amanda's room.Giggling. Oh, no, I thought. Not Amanda! It wasn'tAmanda. I flew out of my room and burst into hers.She lounged on her bed, cradling the cordlessphone against one ear. "Amanda--was that you?" I demanded angrily. "Do you mind?" she snapped. "I'm on thephone." "Did you just call me?" I asked again."Was that you using that stupid voice?" She sneered at me. "Why would I call you?If I want to talk to you, I'll bang on thewall." Then she spoke into the phone. "Teddy?I'll call you back." "You weren't really talking to Teddy," I said. "Yes, I was. What are you doing? Will youhelp me set up my Barbies now?" I stared at her. She's insane, I thought. It had to be Amanda, I decided. She justwanted to get me to stay home and play with her. "I'm not going to fall for your stupidtricks," I declared. I tripped over a couple of her Barbies asI stormed out of the room.
Danny lived about halfway between my house andschool. I found him waiting for me on his frontsteps. We'd planned to go to the art room a littleearly to set things up for the rest of the kids. "I hope this won't take too long,"Danny said. "I wanted to go bike-riding today." "That's sounds like fun," I agreed. "Maybewe can both go for a ride after we're done." Danny didn't say anything. Did he hearme? I wondered. Does he want to gobike-riding with me or not? I decided not to say anything else. Mr. Greaves, the custodian, stoodoutside the door to the school, jangling his keys. "I'm locking up at four-thirty," hewarned us. "Make sure to finish up by then." "No problem," I said. It felt strange to be in school onSaturday. The halls were so quiet and empty.The classrooms were closed and dark. Danny and I walked quickly down the halls,our sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor. The artroom was on the second floor, at the back of thebuilding. The door was closed. Through the glass we couldsee that the room was dark. "I guess we're the first ones here," I said. "I hope it isn't locked," Dannyreplied. "Mr. Martin said he'd be here." Danny tried the door. It opened. I switched on the lights. "No!" I gasped. "No!"

I felt dizzy. My knees startedto collapse. "I don't believe it," Danny groaned. The art room was completely trashed. Tables and chairs were knocked over. Artprojects were ripped from the walls and crumpledup. Paint splattered the walls and the floor.Bits of paper and glass littered the room. Danny and I waded through the mess. "Everything is ruined," I cried. "Everything."I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Isuddenly felt cold all over. Mr. Martin burst into the room. "Hey,guys. I--" He stopped when he saw the mess. "Oh,no," he moaned. "Oh, no ..." "We just walked in," Danny murmured. "Who could have done this?" I asked. "I have no idea," Mr. Martin replied."My car wouldn't start. That's why I'm late.I--I don't believe someone from our school woulddo a thing like this." I started to pick through the piles of trash. Irecognized a bit of paper on the floor. Itshowed a stubby finger. "Here's part of my painting." I sighed."Someone ripped it to pieces." "Hey--check this out!" Danny called. Hepointed to a piece of paper tacked to the bulletinboard. Mr. Martin and I hurried over. On whitepaper were the words, scrawled in red: THECARNIVAL IS DOOMED. Danny and I looked at each other. I shivered. This is no joke, I realized.Someone is really trying to ruin the carnival. But why? "Whoever did this might still be in the building,"Danny said. "Maybe we should take a lookaround." Mr. Martin put a hand on Danny'sshoulder to stop him. "It might be someonedangerous, Danny." Then, across the room, I saw something. One painting hadn't been destroyed. One andonly one. "No!" I gasped. "I don't believeit!" "What is it, Beth?" Danny asked."What?" "This-that picture--" I stammered, pointingat it. "Why is that one still here?" The one painting left was the one Anthonypainted of me.

I stared at the portrait of me. It hadn'tbeen torn up. But something had been added to it. Someone had painted bright red drops dribbling outof my mouth. Blood? "Hey--what's up?" Anthony came burstinginto the art room. I glared at him. "What? What's going on?" he demanded. Hismouth dropped as he saw the mess all over theroom. "Huh? Which-who did this?" "You did!" I blurted out. "No way!" Anthony cried. "I just gothere!" "Then why is your painting the only one thathasn't been ripped to shreds?" I demanded. Anthony shrugged. "How would I know? Maybesomeone recognizes great art." "Not funny," Mr. Martin scolded sternly."This is very serious. I may have to call thepolice." I gasped. The police? In our school? Other kids arrived. They all uttered criesof shock and disbelief. Even Anthony appearedto be frightened. He always seems to have an excuse, I thought.First we catch him with chalk dust on his hands.... Now this. Is Anthony trying to destroy the carnival?Or is he telling the truth? "All right, everybody!" Mr. Martin shouted."Calm down. Let's get this place cleanedup." I grabbed a broom and started sweeping. TinaCrowley came over with a garbage bag to helpme. "I heard about what happened in MissGold's room," she said. "The chalkboard?" I nodded. "Beth--I'm kind of scared," Tinaadmitted. "I mean, we're in charge of thecarnival. What if somebody really wantsto stop it? What if somebody goes after one ofus?" I shuddered. I was thinking exactly the samething.
"I heard about what happened in the art roomon Saturday." Miss Gold greeted ussadly Monday morning. She looks tired, Ithought. As if she hasn't been sleeping well. "I know how important the art sale is for thecarnival," Miss Gold added. "So I'msending you all up to the art room. You can spend themorning making new projects." Everyone cheered. Miss Gold smiled at me. She knew Iwas in charge of the art sale. "Thank you, Miss Gold," I said. We all trooped off to the art room. Iglanced back at Miss Gold. She sat at her desk, tugging on the ring.She pulled on it, frowning, twisting it on herfinger. And then she brought it close to her face andexamined it. Stared at it, her lips moving--asif she were talking to the face in the ring.
"Hey, Beth!" Tina Crowley caught meon the way to my locker after school. "Danny and I are baking cookies for thecarnival in the home ec. lab," she told me."Will you help? The carnival's only two daysaway, and we're a little behind." "Sure," I agreed. I knew Amanda wouldbe waiting for me at home. She'd probablystart begging me to play with her Barbies again. I followed Tina to the home ec. room. Ididn't know her that well, but she seemed nice.She was small, with short blond hair. Shealways wore skirts and frilly tops. Danny was already in the kitchen, stirring a bigbowl of cookie dough. Mrs. Jenkins, the homeec. teacher, was on her way out the door. "Hi, girls." She smiled at me andTina. "I have to make a phone call. I'll beright back." She hurried away. Danny waved at us. "Grab a spoon,"he said. I washed my hands and started dropping dough inclumps onto a cookie sheet. "I'd better preheat the oven," Tina said.She turned the oven knob to 350 degrees. "It should be hot enough soon," she added. I filled one cookie sheet and loaded itinto the oven. I grabbed a clean cookiesheet and started filling it up. A few minutes later, I smelled somethingfunny. "Is something burning?" I asked. Tina shrugged. "I don't think so. Thecookies take fifteen minutes to bake." The sharp aroma burned my nose. "I smell smoke!" Danny cried. I turned--and saw thick black smokepouring out of the oven. "Oh, no!" I cried. I grabbed a potholder and threw open the oven door. The oven burst into flames. Fire roared out of it. I screamed and covered my face. "Help!" I shrieked. "Oh ... help!"

I froze. I couldn't believe this was happening. Tina moved fast. She grabbed me and draggedme out of the kitchen. "Danny, come on!" I cried. We raced down the hall. I found a redfire alarm and tugged on the lever. A shriekingbell rang through the school. Then I saw someone running ahead of us. Anthony. What's he doing here? I wondered. Schoolis out. Why isn't he home? We ran outside and stood in the school yard.A few minutes later, fire trucks squealedto a stop. Firefighters hurried inside thebuilding. Some teachers and a few more students raced out of thebuilding. Miss Gold rushed over to me, Danny, andTina. "Kids, are you all right?" she asked. We nodded. Miss Gold appeared very upset. Her facewas pale, and her hands were shaking. She really cares about us, I realized. "Thank goodness," Miss Gold breathed."When I heard that fire alarm go off, I reallygot scared. Luckily there weren't many studentsleft in the building. Mrs. Cooke, theprincipal, is still inside, checking every room." I saw Anthony hovering around the edge of thecrowd. I hurried over to him. "Anthony, it's so weird," I said. "Youalways seem to be around when something bad happens." His jaw dropped. "What? You think I hadsomething to do with this?" "I saw you outside the kitchen. What were youdoing there?" I demanded. "Nothing!" he insisted. "My locker happensto be outside the kitchen. I saw you guys bakingcookies, and I was thinking maybe I'd help." I narrowed my eyes at him. AnthonyGonzales, offer to help? Yeah, right. It was just too weird. Someone scrawls THECARNIVAL IS DOOMED all over thechalkboard--and Anthony walks by with chalk duston his hands. Someone smashes up the art projects--except for Anthony's painting. A fire breaks out while we're baking--andAnthony just happens to be hanging around nearby. Whenever something bad happens, Anthony isthere. Mrs. Cooke came out of the building. "Thefire is out," she announced. "There wasn'ttoo much damage, and no one was hurt. Everythingis all right now." "Thank goodness." Miss Gold sighed. I felt nervous as I walked home. Didsomeone start that fire on purpose? I wondered. It's strange, I thought. The only people in thekitchen were me, Tina, and Danny--the heads of thecarnival. What if someone isn't just trying to stop thecarnival? I thought. What if someone is tryingto hurt us? When I got home, Mom and Amanda werewatching the news. Mom stood in front of theTV, her purse slung over her arm. Areporter was interviewing Mrs. Cooke about thefire. "Beth!" Mom hugged me. "I was just about to goto school and get you! I'm so glad you're allright!" "I'm okay, Mom," I told her. "Noone got hurt." Mom sank onto the couch. "Thank goodness." I wandered out to the back porch to check onChirpy. Chirpy fluttered his one good wing when he sawme. "How are you feeling today?" I reachedinto the cage and gently rubbed his back. Hefluttered again, weakly. I gave him some birdseed. He ate a fewseeds from my hand, then settled down to rest. He doesn't look much better, I thoughtsadly. "Come on, Chirpy," I said. "Cheerup. Try to get strong again." He pecked at another seed. "That's good,"I said. "Keep eating." I headed to my room. I felt totallywrecked. What a crazy week! I sat down on my bed and took off myshoes. Suddenly I heard a noise. THUMP. I froze. What was that? CLUNK. It came from inside my closet! I stared at the closet door. My heartpounded. Calm down, I told myself. There's no onethere. No one is in my closet, I thought. I sat frozen on my bed, listening. THUD. I gasped. The carnival is doomed. The words flashed into my mind. Someone's after me! I thought. Someone has cometo get me! I heard breathing behind the closet door. "Who's that?" I cried. "Who's in there?"

The closet door cracked open. My heart raced. "Which-who is it?" I askedagain. I waited, frozen in place. The door creaked. It swung open. Amanda leaped out. She tackled me on the bed. "Get off me!" I cried. She tumbled to the floor. "You scared me to death!" I shrieked. "I know!" she replied gleefully. "Iwanted to scare you!" "Why?" I demanded. "Because you never pay any attention to me," shesniffed. "I've been busy!" I shouted,furious. "I can't help it! I can't spend everysecond playing with you!" Amanda's upper lip trembled. "You used to likeplaying with me," she whined. "Now you're hardlyever home!" I sighed. She's right, I realized. I'vebeen so busy with the carnival I haven't spentany time with her. But still--she can't expect meto drop everything for her all the time. "I'm sorry, Amanda," I said. "It's justthat ... things have been so crazy the last fewdays." "I know." She nodded sadly. "But I missyou." "Amanda, I promise to spend more time with you assoon as the carnival is over. That's tomorrow. You canwait one day, can't you?" "You'll help me with my Barbies?" sheasked. "Yes. And anything else you want to do.I'll even take you to the petting zoo." She brightened up. "Okay." "And tomorrow night I'll take you to the carnival.That will be fun, won't it?" "Uh-huh." "Do you feel better now?" She nodded. "Yeah." "And you won't play any more mean tricks onme?" "No. I promise." Did she have her fingerscrossed? I couldn't see. She waved good-bye and shut the door behind her. I pulled off my socks. She's really not sobad, I thought. For an obnoxious little sister,I mean. I decided to read for a while. I pulled downthe covers and slid into bed. I felt a little uncomfortable. I shifted. Something strange touched my leg. What is that? I wondered. I moved my leg. Something touched it again. Something cold. "Yuck!" I groaned. I leaped out of bed andpulled down the covers. The cow eyeball! "Ohhh!" Amanda's cow eyeball rolled along mysheets, leaving a slimy trail. My stomach clenched. Then I heard peals ofhigh-pitched giggling from my sister'sroom. "Amanda, you're going to get it!" I shouted. She's so horrible! I thought angrily. Whydo I bother trying to be nice to her?
"I don't believe it!" Danny said. It wasthe next day. Tina, Danny, and I were on ourway to the gym after school. "Tonight is thecarnival. And nothing has gone wrong today." "So far," I reminded him. We were carrying projects from the art room to thegym. It was time to finish setting up the carnival. The carnival is doomed, I thought. Icouldn't get those words out of my head. Would they come true? Was something terrible aboutto happen? "Everybody heard about the oven fire," Tinasaid. "Lots of people baked cookies and stuff athome and brought them in. We might even have morefood than last year!" "That's great," I said. "The food tablesmake the most money." I put down the paintings I was carrying andopened the door to the gym. I thought I saw someone. Just a flash ofblond hair. The figure darted out the backexit. "Who was that?" I asked. "Who?" Danny said. "I didn't seeanyone." "Neither did I," Tina said. I shrugged and picked up the paintings."Maybe I'm imagining things," I said. "I'm going to run back to the art room to getsome more stuff," Danny told us. "Don't forget the masking tape," Tinareminded him. Danny nodded and hurried out of the gym. Tina led the way to the food tables. "Lookat all the stuff people brought," she said happily. The tables were loaded with dishes covered intinfoil. I'm hungry, I thought. I think I'llsneak a brownie while Tina's not looking. I drifted over to the end of the table. I liftedthe tinfoil off a plate and snatched a brownie. I stuffed the brownie into my mouth. I chewed. Something crunched. What was that? A walnut? I made a face. It didn't tastelike a nut. It tasted sour. I crunched again. And felt something crawl acrossmy tongue. Something was alive in my mouth! I spit out the brownie. "Ohh ..." I moaned. "I'm going to besick." I dropped to my knees as my stomach heaved,and I vomited all over the floor.

"What? What is it?" Tina raced overto see what was wrong. I finally stopped heaving and backed away. Icovered my mouth with one hand. We both stared down at the brownie. Tinywhite wriggling maggots. Tina squealed with terror. My stomach lurchedagain. I could still feel the maggots crawling overmy tongue. Gagging, I hurried to the waterfountain and frantically rinsed out my mouth. Tina was checking every plate of food. "Whodid this?" she demanded. "Who?" I tried to reply but gagged again. Maggots. I had maggots in my mouth!I'll never be normal again, I decided. "What should we do?" Tina asked. "We'd better tell Miss Gold," Isuggested. "Maybe she'll know what to do."
Miss Gold bit her lip when we told herwhat had happened. "Maggots," she murmured. "Maggots ..." She began to shake. Lines seemed to grow onher face right before my eyes. She sank into achair and dropped her head into her hands. "I think we should call off the carnival," shesaid quietly. I gasped. "But-but--" Tina sputtered."We worked so hard on it!" "I know, girls." Miss Gold looked sofrightened. "But I have a very bad feeling." Tina and I glanced at each other. "Maybeshe's right," I said. "A lot of bad things havehappened. And they keep getting worse!" "I don't know," Tina protested. "We'veworked so hard. What else could go wrong?" "A lot," Miss Gold said grimly. She's really scared, I thought. "Whatdo you mean?" I asked her. Before she could reply, Anthony rushed in to theclassroom. "Hey--the dunking tank is all set up,"he announced. "Want to see it? Danny isgoing to try it out." Miss Gold frowned. I glanced at theblack ring on her finger. It glowed in the light fromthe window. She saw me staring at it and covered it with herhand. "Let's go see the dunking tank," she said,standing up. We all trooped back to the gym. "Hey!" Danny called. He sat on abench at the top of the dunking machine, hovering overa tankful of water. Beside him stood ared-and-white target. "I always wanted to try one of these," Dannysaid. "But Anthony will never dunk me." "Oh, yeah?" Anthony grabbed threesoftballs and prepared to throw. If one of theballs hit the target, Danny would fall into thewater. "Anthony, be careful," Miss Goldwarned. "Don't worry, Miss Gold," Anthonyassured her. "I won't clonk him in the head. "Ready?" he called to Danny. Danny yawned. "No way I'm gettingwet." Anthony gripped a ball. He wound up likea pitcher and hurled the ball at the target. It bounced off the wall behind the dunking tank. Danny laughed. "Missed me!" "Anthony, that's enough," Miss Goldordered. She was trying to sound tough, but her voicequavered. "We've seen how it works. Danny--climb out of there!" she called. "No way, Miss Gold," Anthony said."I've got two more chances. And this time I'm notgoing to miss!" He wound up again and threw. The ball justnipped the edge of the target. "You throw like a girl!" Danny taunted. "What's that supposed to mean?" I cried. "Watch this!" Anthony picked up the thirdball. "Anthony--don't," Miss Gold warned."Don't dunk him. He--he'll gethis clothes all wet." "Tough," Anthony muttered. "He asked forit." He wound up and pitched the ball. BANG! It hit the target square in themiddle. SPLASH! Danny dropped into the tank ofwater. "Aaaauuuggghh!" Danny let out a cry andbegan to thrash wildly in the water. "Let me out!" he shrieked. "Help me!Help!" At first I thought he was clowning around. But thenI saw that his face was bright red. "Help--somebody!" It took us all so long to realize that he was inpain. But then I saw the steam rising up from thewater. And Danny moaned, "Boiling. It's boilingme!" His eyes shut. His body went limp. And hesank under the water.


We raced to the tank. Climbed over theside. Steam rose up around us. Boiling hot. "Give us your hand!" Miss Gold screamed. But Danny had passed out. He couldn't hearus. We grabbed him by the shoulders and hoisted himup. "Is he drowned?" Anthony cried. "Ishe breathing?" The custodian, Mr. Greaves, rushed into thegym, followed by his assistant, Jerry. Theyhelped us pull Danny out. We set him down on the floor. His skin wasan angry red. He was breathing. "The water--" he gasped. "It was so hot!" I touched Danny's arm. It was boiling hotand red as a lobster. "That's impossible!" Mr. Greaves insisted."I just filled that tank with cold water. Iswear!" "Take him to the nurse's office--quick!"Miss Gold ordered. Mr. Greaves helped Danny up andhalf-walked, half-carried him out of the gym. "Man, I'm so sorry," Anthony said."I didn't know that water was hot--I reallydidn't!" Miss Gold's lip trembled. "Something
dreadful is going to happen tonight--I just know it!" "Miss Gold--" I asked. "How do youknow?" She rubbed her temples as if they ached. "Ijust know." I hugged my knees to my chest. "What can wedo?" Miss Gold stood up. "Come with me,Beth. We're going to the principal's officeto ask her to call off the carnival."
"That was the nurse," Mrs. Cookeannounced, hanging up the phone. Miss Goldand I had been sitting in her office when the phonerang. "She said Danny will be fine." Mrs. Cooke folded her hands on her deskand frowned at us. "I understand your concerns, MissGold. I wish I could call off the carnival.But it's too late." Miss Gold stared down at the black ring onher hand. She looked very upset. "We'll just have to take extra care," Mrs.Cooke continued. "I'll call the police andask them to send someone to keep an eye on things.That should help." "Thank you, Mrs. Cooke." Miss Goldand I left the office. "Are you all right, Miss Gold?" Iasked. She clasped her hand over the ring. She didn't answer my question. Instead, shetook off, running down the hall, vanishing aroundthe corner.
"I don't want any dinner, Mom,"Amanda declared. "I'm going to eat at thecarnival tonight--right, Beth?" I swallowed, thinking of the maggot-coveredbrownies. "Um--I don't know, Amanda," Ibegan. "I'm not sure they'll have anything goodthere." "Sure they will!" Amanda cried. "They alwaysdo!" "I guess you can have hot dogs fordinner once in a while," Mom agreed. "Orwhatever they're serving this year." My stomach turned over again.Chocolate-covered maggots, anyone? "I guess they have hot dogs," I replied."And other stuff." "I can't wait to go," Amanda said. "And you'dbetter not try to back out of taking me, Beth.Remember--you promised." "I know." I felt miserable. Amanda wouldkill me if I refused to take her to thecarnival. But something inside told me sheshouldn't go. "Come on," I said, tugging Amanda's hand.
"Let's get this over with."

"I guess Miss Gold was wrong," Tinasaid. "So far, the carnival is going great!" Amanda and I stood in front of Tina'sfood table. We watched crowds of people streaminginto the carnival, laughing and spending lots of moneyon food and games and other activities. "I threw out all the maggoty food," Tinatold us. "My dad and I had an emergencybake session this afternoon. We don't have as muchstuff to sell as before--but at least it doesn't havebugs in it! Yuck!" I peered closely at a chocolate chipcookie. No sign of bugs--but I decided notto take any chances. "I'll have two sugar cookies," Amandaordered. "One dollar," Tina said. I paid Tina and Amanda took the cookies."Mmm!" she cried, biting into one. "Yummy." Amanda and I strolled past the art sale.Parents crowded the booth, buying their kids'stuff. I waved at Elizabeth Gordon, who wasworking at the booth. "Everything going okay?" Iasked her. "Yes. Awesome." She smiled. "Oliverwanted me to tell you it's your turn to doticket-taking," she added. "His shift isover." "Okay." I turned to Amanda. "Will you beall right on your own for a little while? I've gotto take tickets at the door." "I'll keep an eye on her." Anthonysuddenly appeared behind us. I hesitated. I wasn't sure I wantedto leave Amanda with Anthony. But I figured itwas better than leaving her alone. "Don't worry, I won't toss her in thedunking tank," he promised. "Ha ha. I'll be okay, Beth," Amandaassured me. "Well ... all right. But if you need me,Amanda, I'll be at the front entrance.Okay?" "Whatever," she said impatiently. I sighed and walked to the gym entrance. OliverSlivka stood up at the ticket table. "Finally," he groaned. "You were supposedto take over half an hour ago." "Sorry, Oliver." I sat down behind thecash box. "Thanks for helping." I nodded to the policeman standing just outside thegym doors. Mrs. Cooke had hired extrasecurity for the carnival, just in case. As people arrived, I sold them tickets. Allthe while I tried to keep an eye out for Amandaand Anthony. I saw Amanda at the basketball tossgame. Where's Anthony? I wondered. I didn'tsee him. It's just like him to offer to watch Amanda and thendisappear. The next time I checked, Amanda had won ahuge stuffed bear at the ring toss booth. Sheheaded toward the face-painting tables. I guess she's okay, I decided. Kids in the school band climbed onto thestage to give a concert. I searched for Amanda.She was busy having her face painted. Still no sign of Anthony, I thought,annoyed. Where did he go? Suddenly, the gym lights dimmed. Igasped. What's happening? I wondered. I glanced up as a tall figure steppedinto the gym. He wore a long gray robe. His face washidden by a large hood. I strained to see the face behind the hood. "Um--admission is one dollar," I said. The mysterious figure didn't seem to hearme. I held out a ticket. "One dollar,please." He raised both arms. I gasped again as thelights in the gym flashed on and off. People cried out in surprise. The band stoppedplaying. The air suddenly grew cold. I shivered. The robed figure pushed past me, walkingstiffly. "Hey!" I cried. "Stop!" He ignored me. People turned to stare at him,terrified. "Stop!" I yelled again. The stranger began to twirl. Round and round,faster and faster. The gym lights flashed off andon, off and on. What's happening? I thought. Who is that? I felt as if I were spinning too. Faster andfaster, round and round. Whoa. I clutched my head, feeling dizzy. The whole gym is spinning! I realized. Justlike the stranger, faster and faster. What's he doing? I thought, terrified."Stop him!" I shrieked. "Stop him!"
I stared dizzily through the haze of blinkinglights. Everyone in the gym seemed stunned,unable to move. "Get him!" I repeated weakly. The stranger stopped spinning and stabbed the air withboth hands. The lights blinked faster. The gym doorsslammed shut with a loud BOOM. A low hum buzzed through the air. It grewlouder and louder, until finally the hum became aroar. The roar of a speeding plane about to crash. What's that sound? I thought, staring around theroom. The floor of the gym shook. People tumbled to theground. I struggled to keep my balance. "No!" I cried. "Please! Please!" The water splashed up from the dunking tank andswept over the gym like a tidal wave. People werescreaming now--screaming and running for cover. Idove across the gym as the water washed over myfeet. I saw the food table ahead of me. Tinacowered behind it. I'll jump on top of it, I decided. I splashed across the gym floor. Just as I wasabout to leap, the food table suddenly burstinto flames. "Help!" Tina screamed, stumbling away.People were scurrying in all directions, screaming andcrying in panic. I headed toward the basketball booth. Rightbefore I reached it, it exploded! Screams echoed through the gym. The air filledwith smoke. I've got to find Amanda, Irealized. "Amanda!" I shouted. "Amanda! Where are you?" The gym rocked and tossed like a boat on theocean. I stumbled across the floor, trying to keep mybalance. "Amanda!" I screamed again. Another buzz. Something dove toward my head.I ducked. Wasps! The gym was swarming with wasps. Theybuzzed through the air, darting and diving. People shrieked as the wasps attacked. An angry swarm of wasps surrounded me likea dark cloud. "Noooo!" A scream escaped my throat.I covered my head and tried to run away from them. The swarm stuck with me. I scooped a handfulof water off the wet floor and tried to splash themaway. The wasps buzzed off to attack someone else. "Get me out of here!" a man pleaded. Hethrew himself against the door and banged on itfuriously. It wouldn't open. It was locked! People piled up against the door, pushing and shoving. "Let us out!" they shouted. Another game booth exploded into flames. I scanned the gym for my little sister. Andspotted her cowering against the back wall,surrounded by wasps. She was screaming and coveringher head. "Amanda!" I called over the deafening noise."I'm coming!" I dove across the gym floor. Panicking peopleblocked my way. I shoved them aside. I hadto reach Amanda. I saw the hooded stranger ahead of me. Heglided across the floor. Nothing bothered him--not thewasps, or the rocking, spinning gym, or theflames dancing over the room. He just kept moving--heading straight forAmanda! I had to get to her first. My way was blockedby the face-painting table. I crawled over the table. I jumped off. Thetable burst into flames. I dodged the fire. Too late. The hooded figure grabbed Amanda--and liftedher off the floor. "No!" I shrieked. "Let her go!" Amanda screamed in terror. The stranger swung her high--and carried heraway.

Amanda's voice sounded so tiny over the criesof the crowd. "Beth--help! Help me!" I've got to save her! I thought. I racedto the back of the gym and threw myself at the stranger,trying to tackle him. Missed! I belly-flopped to the floor. The strangerstood a few feet behind me, Amanda over hisshoulder. How did he dodge me so quickly? Iwondered, jumping to my feet. People were shouting and crying, running in alldirections. The stranger pressed through the crowd,carrying Amanda halfway across the gym. "Beth!" Amanda screamed. "Stop him!" Shepounded on the stranger's back. It had noeffect on him. I chased them again. As I ran, thepoliceman burst through the front doors. Peopleflooded outside. "Help!" I shouted to the policeman. Iwaved to him from the back of the gym. The strangerstood between me and the policeman, heading for thedoors. "Stop him!" I called to the policeman."He's got my sister!" The policeman sped toward the stranger andtackled him. But the stranger slipped out of his grasp--likeair. Then the stranger appeared behind the policeman,Amanda over his shoulder. He's heading for the doors! I thought,panicking. I raced toward them. But so many peopleblocked my way! "Stop him!" I screamed. "He's taking mysister!" The policeman jumped to his feet and whirledaround. He dove at the stranger again--and knockedhim down. Amanda tumbled to the floor. The policeman pinned down the stranger.Amanda rushed into my arms. "Beth!" she sobbed. "I-I'm so scared!" I held her. The policeman handcuffed thestranger. Then he pulled off the stranger's hood. "No!" I gasped. "Not you!"

I stared in shock as the hood slid back--revealing Miss Gold. Her blonde hair shone in the light. Theblack ring flashed on her finger. Her eyes rolled around in theirsockets. "It wasn't me!" she shrieked. "I swearit wasn't me!" Huh? What is she saying? I wondered. The ring flashed again. The police began to lead Miss Goldaway. She screamed and thrashed, trying to pullfree. Stunned, I hugged Amanda tighter. It must have been Miss Gold all along, Irealized. All the terrible things that happened--shedid them! But why? And how? How did she do all thosefrightening things? It was almost ... not human, I realized. Theground shaking, the lights flashing, the waspsattacking ... What happened to her? I wondered. She alwaysseemed so nice. How could she be so evil? I had to find some answers. I knew if Ididn't, it would bother me for the rest of my life. I let go of Amanda and raced out of the gym. Thepolice had just locked Miss Gold in thebackseat of their car. "Wait!" I shouted. Too late. They didn't hear me. They sped away. Something flashed on the sidewalk in front ofme. I bent down to pick it up. The black ring! Did she drop it? Did she throw it away? I stared into the black jewel. The evil faceglared out at me. I couldn't stop staring at it. Staring ... staring.And then something made me slip the ring on myfinger. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind.What am I doing? I asked myself. I tried to pull off the ring. But I felt it tighten around my finger. No! I yanked on it again. No! I thought. It's stuck! So tight now... so tight. I raised the shiny jewel and stared at thesmoky face inside. My heart froze. The face appeared to be laughing. Why?

"This always works." Mom was greasing my ring fingerwith butter. "I hope so," I muttered. I'd alreadytried soaking my finger in cold water and tugginguntil my finger was red and sore. Mom tried to slide the ring off. It stuck atthe knuckle. "Beth, how did you get this thing on?" Momdemanded. "It's too small to fit over yourknuckle!" "I know," I sighed. Mom yanked on the ring. No use. "Isn't there anything else we can try?" Ipleaded. "Axle grease? Olive oil?Anything?" "I'll try to think of something." Mom stared atmy finger, puzzled. "Maybe your finger isswollen from all the tugging we've done. Let itsit for a while." I don't want to let it sit, I thought,twisting the ring. The face in the jewel stared out at me. I want to get this ring off--now! Miss Gold got it off somehow, I thought,rubbing the black band. Maybe she can tell me how she did it. "Beth! Mom!" Amanda called from the livingroom. "The school carnival is on the news!" Mom and I rushed into the living room to watch.A reporter stood in the wreckage of the gym,interviewing parents and teachers. They all seemed frightened and baffled. Mrs.Cooke, the principal, said, "I apologizeto everyone. But I can't explain it. It seemsone of our sixth-grade teachers was havingemotional problems. But she showed no sign of it..." "Because of the incident, Marchfield MiddleSchool will be closed for the rest of the week," thereporter announced. "The teacher, MissMelanie Gold, was taken to MarchfieldHospital for testing." I glanced at Mom. I knew she would neverwant me to see Miss Gold. Not after whathappened at the carnival. Mom would say it was too dangerous. Afterall, Miss Gold had gone crazy. But I had to see her. I had to find outwhat had happened to her. Why she had done so manyterrible things. "It's very late, girls," Mom said,switching off the TV. "And you've had anupsetting evening. I think we should all go to bed." She dragged herself off the couch. She kissedAmanda good night, then me. I watched her gointo the kitchen to turn on the dishwasher. I went out to the back porch to say good nightto Chirpy. I tried to feed him some seeds, but hewouldn't eat. He doesn't seem to be gettingbetter, I thought sadly. Tomorrow, I vowed. Tomorrow I'll sneak down to thehospital and see Miss Gold. Maybe she can help me get the ring off. Andmaybe she can explain what happened today.
I went to bed late that night. I fell into astrange, restless sleep, haunted by dreams. "It's dark," I murmured to myself. "It's sodark. ..." I stepped forward--and crashed into a wall.Everything was pitch-black. I couldn't see atall. I slid my hands along the wall. It feltslippery, like butter. I'm in a maze, I realized. I have to feelmy way through. But where am I going? I wondered. What'sat the end of the maze? I stumbled through blindly. My hands were coated withgrease. At last I could see. I stood in the gym,surrounded by ducks. Only, instead of duckheads, they all had human heads. One duck head looked exactly like DannyJacobs. The next one looked like TinaCrowley. Another duck was AnthonyGonzales. "This isn't right!" I screamed. "Your headsdon't belong on duck bodies!" I grabbed the Anthony duck and tore itshead off. Blood gushed from its neck. Feathersflew into the air. "Ha ha ha ha!" I laughed. I splashedmy hand in the blood and rubbed it on the blackring. "This will get the ring off!" I cackled."Blood will take it off! "No!" I sat up. I blinked. My room was just beginning to get light. Dawn. What a weird dream, I thought. I touchedmy face. It was burning hot. My nightshirtclung wetly to my back. Why am I sweating? I wondered. Why didI have so many weird dreams last night? I squinted at the black ring. The smokyface inside seemed to gaze out at me. I shuddered. It seemed to stare into my eyes. As if it weretrying to read something there. "Beth?" I gasped, startled. Amanda stood in thedoorway. "What?" I cried. "What are you doing up?" "Beth--why did you do that?" Amanda asked. "Huh? Do what?" The room slowly grew lighter. I gazedaround. Oh, no, I thought. Did I do that? Feathers floated in the air. Feathers coveredthe floor, my desk, my chair, my bed. My pillows had been ripped apart--as if awild animal had torn them to shreds.

"Beth, what is your problem?" Momscolded. "It looks like a monster tore throughhere!" I was beginning to clean my room when Mom gotup. "It's just feathers." I tried to make it soundlike nothing weird had happened. "It's no bigdeal." Mom studied a shredded piece ofpillowcase. "It's not like you, Beth. You'venever done anything like this before." I know, I thought. Tell me about it. "I did it in my sleep." I tried to keepmy voice steady. "I was having a nightmare." She gazed at me with that worried look shegets. I plugged in the vacuum cleaner. "Beth--the carnival last night. Is thereanything you want to talk--" I didn't hear the rest of what she said. Idrowned her out with the vacuum cleaner. That afternoon I rode my bike downtownto Marchfield Hospital. I slipped upstairs and asked a nurse whereMiss Gold was staying. "She's in this ward," the nurse told me."Do you have flowers or a card for her?" "No," I replied. "I need to see her." "I'm sorry," the nurse said. "No one isallowed to see her. Doctor's orders." "I'm one of her students," I protested."I've got to see her. Just for a minute." "Absolutely not." The nurse frowned."If you want to leave her a card or something,I'll see that she gets it." She turned awayto answer the phone. I stared down the long hallway. Door afterdoor after door, and they all looked alike. I wish I knew her room number, Ithought. Then maybe I could sneak in and see her. I tried to peek at the charts on the nurse'sdesk. Maybe I could glimpse MissGold's room number there. I stood on tiptoe, reading upside down.I didn't see any room numbers. The nurse hung up the phone. "Pleasedon't hang around here, miss." "I want to give Miss Gold a card,"I told her. "I'll be back in a minute." I raced downstairs to the gift shop and bought aget-well card. I signed my name and took itback up to Miss Gold's ward. I held itup to the nurse. "Fine. I'll see she gets it." Thenurse didn't even look up. She was busyfilling out a form. "Please give it to her now," I insisted."It's important." The nurse lifted her head and glared at me.She snatched up the card and stormed down thehallway. I watched carefully to see which roomshe went into. It was the last room on the left. I noticedan exit door at the end of the hall. I'll bet there's a stairwell behind that door,I thought. I hurried back downstairs. I strodedown the hall as if I knew where I was going.As if I belonged there. Nobody stopped me. At the end of the hall stood an exit door.Just like the one outside Miss Gold's room.I opened it and sneaked up the stairs. On the next floor I carefully crackedopen the door. The nurse was marching back to herstation. The coast was clear. I slipped out of the stairwell. I darted acrossthe hall and through the last door on the left. Miss Gold lay quietly on the bed. Theroom was dimly lit--the curtains were closed. I shut the door behind me. Miss Goldturned her head. "Beth," she said weakly. She waved the cardI'd just bought and added, "Thank you." I slowly approached the bed. Miss Goldlooked terrible. I remembered how her eyesused to be so sparkly and blue. But now theylooked gray and dead. "Miss Gold," I began. "What happenedto you?" She stared up at me. Now her eyes wereblank. "Last night--at the gym--" I promptedher. "Why did you do it?" She closed her eyes. "I don't know,Beth. I can't explain it." "But--did you do everything?" I asked. "Thewriting on the chalkboard? Smashing up the artroom? Everything?" She blinked her eyes open. "I--Isuppose I did." She didn't seem toosure. "I can hardly believe it myself." I twisted the black ring on my finger. "Ifound something of yours outside the gym. I brought itfor you." I held up my left hand. The black ringsparkled. Miss Gold's face twisted in shock."Beth--no! What are you doing with that?" "I told you--I found it ..." She grabbed my hand and desperately tugged atthe ring. "Take it off! Take it off right now!"she ordered. She pulled so hard, my fingerthrobbed with pain. "I can't!" I cried. "I was hoping you couldhelp me!" She yanked on the ring as hard as she could. Atlast she let her hands drop helplessly into herlap. "Get that thing away from me!" she rasped."Get it away! And get it off your finger assoon as you can! I'm warning you!" I began to shake. "Miss Gold,please--" "Get out now!" she demanded. "I can't helpyou. Just get rid of that ring!" Trembling, I staggered out of the room. Islipped down the staircase and ran outside into thebright spring sunshine. I jumped on my bike and pedaled home asfast as I could. "Get rid of the ring! Getrid of the ring!" I chanted to myself as I rode. I dumped my bike in the garage and flewinto the house. "Get rid of the ring," I toldmyself. "Get rid of the ring." I stopped in the kitchen, panting. The ringcaught the light and flashed. I gazed at the black jewel. The face stared out at me. Its eyes seemedto drill into mine. I couldn't take my eyes off that face. Icouldn't tear myself away from that deep stare. A calm feeling began to sweep over me.It's okay, I thought. Everything is okay.There's nothing to worry about. I relaxed as the calmness washed over me. I feel so much better now, I realized. Somuch happier and calmer. What a beautiful ring.

"Remember, Beth--you promised." Amanda and I were walking to school. It wasMonday morning, a few days after the carnival.Amanda was back to her usual pesty self. "Yes, I remember," I said. "Ipromise I'll help you arrange your stupidBarbies tonight." Amanda scowled. "Don't call them stupid!I won't let you help if you call them that." "I don't want to help you, stupid," Isnapped. I paused. The words sounded funny to me. I'd never called Amanda stupid before.Strange. "I'll only play with you if you let me namethem," I went on. "I'll call them Dopey,Airhead, Space Case, Brainless ..." "But one of my Barbies is a doctor!"Amanda protested. "You can't call herBrainless!" "Okay, I won't. I'll call herDoctor Dumb-Dumb." Amanda fumed as we plodded down the street. We were just passing Danny's house when heappeared. "Hey, Beth--wait up!" hecalled. "Hi, Danny," Amanda cooed, makinggoo-goo eyes at him. I kicked her in theshin. "Ow!" she protested. But it worked. It shuther up. "I wonder what school will be like today,"Danny said to me. "I mean, after what happenedat the carnival." He paused. "I guess we'll have a substitute teacherfor a while," I said. "Did you hear about the bike-a-thon?" heasked. I shook my head. "It's for charity," he explained. "You getsponsors, and you have to ride ten miles. It's thisSaturday. Want to do it with me?" "Definitely!" I exclaimed. He finally asked me to do something outside ofschool! "Great!" Danny said. "I've got anextra entry form in my backpack. I'llgive it to you when we get to school." Suddenly I heard the squeal of bikebrakes behind me. Before I could turn around, somethingbumped me hard. "Ow!" I cried. I spun around."Anthony!" "Whoops. Sorry." Anthony didn'tlook sorry at all. He was grinning behind hisdark, expensive sunglasses. He bumped into me on purpose! Irealized. "Grow up, Anthony!" I criedangrily. "You're not funny." "Who says?" Anthony replied. "I thinkI'm hilarious." I rolled my eyes. "Hey, Anthony--are you doing thebike-a-thon this Saturday?" Danny asked. "No way," Anthony replied. "Why wouldI want to bike ten miles?" "I'm biking in it," I told him. "You would," he snapped. "You're such agoody-goody." Amanda snickered. I kicked her in theshin again. She shut up. I ought to do that more often, Ithought. "Here's your school, Amanda." We stoppedat the elementary school. "I'll see you thisafternoon." "Remember--the Barbies!" she called as sheran into the building. "You still play with Barbies?" Anthony teased."I knew you were babyish, but--" I felt my face get hot. Why didAnthony have to be so mean to me? Especially infront of Danny? "Baby Bethy, the goody-goody," Anthonytaunted. I stole a glance at Danny. He ran afew steps ahead and kicked a rock into thestreet. Two blocks later we arrived at school.Anthony rode around to the side of the building andparked his bike. He and Danny started inside. "You guys go ahead," I told them. "I'mgoing to wait for Tina. I told her I'd meether out front." "Okay. See you." The first bell rang. I hurried around to theside of the school building. Anthony's bike, green and shiny, glistened inthe sunlight. He sure loves that bike, I thought. Too bad. I felt a surge of power shoot through mybody. I grabbed the chain that locked the bike andripped it off. I tore it into pieces and tossedthem to the ground. I had no idea I was so strong! I thought.It's almost as if I have superpowers! I yanked off the front wheel and bent it inhalf. Then I crushed the back wheel. I left the mangled bike where I'd found it. Wait until Anthony sees that, I thoughtgleefully. And he thought I was a goody-goody. I glanced back at the wrecked bike as Iheaded to the door. I can't believe I did that, I thought. I've never felt so strong. I actually bentthe wheel of a bike! How did I do it? I asked myself.How?

The second bell rang. I hurried into theschool building. Kids were just filing in when I reached theclassroom. A short, bald man with glassesand a bow tie sat behind the desk. On thechalkboard behind him he'd written his name--MR.CHARLES. He patted a strand of hair over his baldspot. Then he straightened his bow tie. Oh,great, I thought. He looks like loads of fun. I dropped my books on my desk. Inoticed Anthony's sunglasses lying on hisdesk across the room. He must have gone to his locker, I realized. I crossed the room and snatched up thesunglasses. I glanced around. No one was watching. I stashed the glasses in my pocket. ThenI grabbed my history textbook. It was theheaviest book I had. And I headed for the bathroom. I checked under the stalls to see if anybodywas in there. The bathroom was empty. I placed the sunglasses on the windowsill.With one quick BANG! I smashed the book downon them. And crushed them to bits. The cracking soundmade me laugh. I brushed the broken pieces into my hand andcarried them back to the classroom. Anthonyhadn't returned to his desk yet. I took another look around. Nobodywatching. I sprinkled the tiny pieces of plastic andglass on top of Anthony's desk. Maybe you won't feel so cool without yourshades, huh, Anthony? I thought, snickering. A few minutes later, Anthony returnedto the classroom. He stared curiously at thestrange pile on his desk. He fingered a few of the pieces. Then his jawdropped. "Who did this?" he demanded. He threwaccusing glances at the kids sitting around him."Who broke my shades?" The other kids shrugged. "Didn't yousee anything?" he asked. "Didn't you see whodid it?" He glared at David Kelly, whosat behind him. "I didn't do it," David insisted. "Young man, take your seat please." Mr.Charles stood at the front of the room with a rollbook. "Somebody smashed my sunglasses!"Anthony wailed. "I want to know who did it!" "You can worry about that after class," Mr.Charles said. "Now, please sit down." Anthony grumbled as he dropped into hisseat. He scowled at everyone around him. Everyone but me, of course. He never thoughtI was the one who broke his sunglasses. Notfor a minute. Not goody-goody Beth.
It felt good, being bad. I'd never doneanything so bad before in my life. And suddenly, I liked it. At recess, I roamed the halls, lookingfor trouble. It was warm and sunny, and almosteverybody was outside. Then I saw him. A fifth grader Ididn't even know. He was a small kid with greasy dark hair.His locker was open, and he was putting away somebooks. I didn't even think about what I was goingto do. I just did it. I rushed at the boy and shoved him into hislocker. "Hey!" he yelped. "Stop--" I slammed the door shut. He banged onit, screaming, "Stop it! Let me out! Let meout of here!" I smiled to myself. Then I locked himinside.

I walked away and left him there. I could hear him pounding and screaming as Istrolled down the hall. It gave me a littlethrill. That was fun, I thought. Now on to thelunchroom. I stood in line, waiting to fill up a traywith the usual cafeteria food. Then Inoticed something near the door of the kitchen. A mouse? Yes. A mouse. The mouse squeezed under the door and scamperedinto the kitchen. I pushed open the door and followedit in. The kitchen workers were all busy serving thekids. I sneaked past them and into the hugepantry in back. Aha. I spotted the mouse hiding behind asack of rice in the corner. Quick as a cat, Iscooped up the mouse before it even had a chanceto squeak! This is amazing, I thought. I've never been soquick before. I sneaked back out to the cafeteria. I'll bet this mouse is hungry, I thought.Maybe it would like a little soup. When no one was looking, I dropped the mouseinto a vat of vegetable soup. "Eat up, kids!" I whispered. I grabbed a tray and slowly moved through theline, waiting to see what would happen. Tina Crowley and two of her friends entered theline. First victims, I thought happily. The lunch lady dipped her ladle into the vatof soup. She spooned it into a bowl and handed itto Tina. Tina zipped through the line and sat down with herfriends. I followed and perched nearby. I watched Tina dip her spoon in the soup andbring it to her lips. The mouse popped his head up and squeaked. Tina's scream shook the walls. I laughed. The mouse squeaked again and did a brea//rokeacross the soup bowl. Tina screamed again. Her friends dropped theirtrays and ran from the lunchroom, shrieking theirheads off. The whole room was in a panic. Dripping withsoup, the mouse leaped off the table and scamperedacross the floor. Everybody looked so funny.The ladies who served the food were shrieking andswatting at the mouse. Kids dropped their lunches and ran screamingout of the lunchroom. Now I understand, I thought, as I watched thewhole school turn upside down. Now I know why Anthony is always doing meanthings to people. Because it's so much fun!
The house was empty when I got home thatafternoon. Mom was at work. Where's Amanda? I wondered. Then Iremembered. She had a soccer game that afternoon. So nobody's home, I thought, glancing aroundfor something to do. Hmmm ... I think I'll go up to Amanda's room, Idecided. I promised to help her arrange herBarbies, didn't I? The Barbies lay in a tangled heap onAmanda's bed. These dolls really do needarranging, I thought. Maybe I should get startednow. Amanda will be so surprised when she getshome. I picked up the first Barbie and examined it.This must be the Surfer Barbie, I realized. "You won't be doing much surfing from now on,Surfer Barbie," I said. I snapped one of her legs off. Then theother. CRACK, CRACK. They made such acool sound as I broke them off. Then I tore off her arms. CRACK,CRACK. I tossed the doll on the floor and pickedup the next one. "You must be the DoctorBarbie," I said. "Okay, Doctor Barbie--see if you can heal this!" CRACK, CRACK. I love that sound, I thought. I ripped thearms and legs off every single doll. CRACK, CRACK. And I laughed the whole time.

"Mom!" Amanda's screams rang through thehouse. "Mom! Look what happened!" I lay on my bed in my room, listening.Mom raced into Amanda's room. "What'swrong, honey?" "Look!" Amanda shouted. "Somebody--" Shestarted to sob. "So-somebody broke all myBarbies!" I heard Mom gasp. "I--Idon't know how ..." Amanda barged into my room. "Beth!" shedemanded. "You did it! Why? Why did you do thisto me?" I sat up. "Me? I didn't do it!" Ilied. "I never touched your Barbies!" Mom appeared behind her. "Beth--that's not like you!Why would you do such a thing?" "I told you!" I insisted. "I didn't doit! Really!" Mom frowned. "Then who did?" Amanda shrieked. "You were theonly one here!" She sobbed, tears rolling downher cheeks. Mom's eyes locked on mine. I knew shethought I broke Amanda's dolls. But at thesame time, Mom couldn't believe I would dosomething like that. She led Amanda away. "Come on, honey,"she soothed. "Let's see if we can put themback together." They returned to Amanda's room. I layback against my pillows. Why did I do that? I wondered. Why didI break Amanda's dolls? I remembered doing it. I remembered doinglots of bad things that day. But I didn't knowwhy. Amanda sobbed in the next room. I heardMom trying to comfort her. I suddenly felt terrible. My whole bodybegan to tremble. What's happening to me? I wondered. Ibroke Anthony's bike and sunglasses. Iput a mouse in Tina's soup. I even locked a little kid in his locker! Forno reason! I didn't even know him. And then I ruined my sister's Barbies.All in one day. What happened to me? I used to be so nice. The black ring flashed on my finger. The ring, I thought, gazing at it. Of course.The ring. The ghostly face inside smiled out at me.I thought I saw it wink. Somehow it's making me do evil things! Ithought. Just like Miss Gold. I shuddered. This is just the beginning, I realized. I remembered how nice MissGold once was. But by the night of the carnival, she hadcompletely changed. She had supernatural powers. She triedto kill people! She tried to kill everyone in that gym! My stomach knotted up. I felt sick. What am I going to do? How can I stop it? I gripped the ring and tried to rip it off myfinger. "Off!" I cried. "I've got to get itoff!" The evil face glared out at me. It was as if he could read my thoughts--and I couldread his. Stop! he commanded. You cannot remove thering. I stopped. This is only the beginning, he said. Kidstuff. The real evil is still to come. Don't try to get rid of me. You can't doit. Soon you won't even want to do it. The ring is controlling me! I thought. I felt a chill--as if my heart were slowlybeing covered with ice. But what's going to happen? I wondered. What if I keep getting more and more evil? What am I going to do next?

I was eating breakfast on Saturday morning.Amanda sat across the table from me, eyeing mewarily. Bad things had happened to her all week.Someone tore up her homework. Someone replacedher favorite shampoo with corn oil. Someoneput a couple of slugs in her spaghettisauce. That someone was me, of course. But I neveradmitted to any of the terrible things I did. "Ididn't do it!" I claimed, over and over. Amanda watched me from over her cereal bowl.She didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to think, either. I didn't want to do any of those things. ButI did them anyway. Amanda was lucky. I was much meaner to the kidsat school. One girl brought in her expensive newlaptop computer. I poured soda all over it.It doesn't work anymore. I set the class hamster loose--and thenlocked a stray cat in the room with him. Danny, who always fed the hamster, found thehamster's mangled little body under a desk. I hated myself for doing those things. But Icouldn't stop myself! I had no control. Every day the ring's power over me grew stronger.And every day, my evil grew. I finished my cereal and went out to the porchto check on Chirpy. Poor Chirpy, I thought. He lay on thefloor of his cage, breathing weakly. His brokenwing was still bandaged. "Come on, Chirpy--eat," I urged. Itried to stuff a few seeds into his beak. Hedidn't swallow them. Someone knocked on the porch door. "Beth!You ready to go?" "Hi, Danny." I opened the door. Heleaned his bike against the wall and came in. "Come on!" he cried. "You're not wearing thatto the bike-a-thon, are you?" I glanced down and realized I was still in mypajamas! The bike-a-thon. Oh, no. I can't go to the bike-a-thon, I thought. Whatif I do something really bad there? What if I hurt somebody? "Danny, I can't go," I said. "I--I'msick. See--I'm still in my pajamas!" "You're not sick." Danny didn't believeme. "Come on--you have to go! It's for charity! Youcan't let everybody down!" "No, Danny, really. I'm not feelingwell." I can't go, I thought desperately. I can't! There will be so many kids there. So many people to hurt. So many ways to be evil. I glanced down at the ring. If only I couldget it off! Every night before I went to sleep I tried andtried to pull the ring off. And every night that evil face stared me down.You can't escape, he said. "Who are you?" I asked the face in the ring. He never answered. How did he get inside the ring? Iwondered. Why does he want to make me hurt people? He never told me. But whenever I triedto take off the ring, his voice echoed inside myhead. You are in my power now, he said. And I knew it was true. So I tried to stayas far away from people as I could. "I won't let you miss it," Dannyinsisted. "It will be fun! And besides, everyone iswaiting for you!" "Danny, I can't," I insisted. "Really.They'll get along without me." Danny gazed at me with his big brown eyes."Beth," he said quietly. "I never knew youwere so selfish." I lowered my head. The black ring caught myeye. The smoky face seemed to grin at me. That's right, Beth. I heard his voiceinside my head. G. Go ... Danny pushed me into the house. "Get in thereand put on your bike shorts. I'll wait for youright here." I went inside. "And hurry up!" Danny called. I went up to my room and got dressed.Maybe everything will be okay, I thought. I'll justride my bike. I'll be helping charity. I should go, I realized. I'll fight theevil. I'm strong. I can resist it. A few minutes later I grabbed my bikefrom the garage and met Danny out front. "I knew you'd do it." Danny grinned atme. We rode to Marchfield High School, wherethe bike-a-thon began. The school sat perchedon top of a steep hill. I stared down thetwisting, winding hill. The first leg of the bike-a-thon would be tricky,I realized. All downhill--but lots of steepcurves. It would be easy to wipe out down there,I thought. Dozens of kids had gathered for the race. Iknew some of them--they were from my school. And then a last biker sped into the parking lot.He braked suddenly, spraying gravel everywhere. Anthony? "Hey, geeks!" he cried. "Are you losersdoing this too?" "I thought bike-a-thons were for goody-goodies,"I reminded him. "They are--sort of," Anthony replied."But I've got a new bike, and I wantto show it off." I stared at his shiny, fancy new bike. Itwas sleek and black, and looked much faster thanany other bike there. "Some jerk wrecked my bike last week,"Anthony said. "Oh, really?" I said, looking away."That's terrible." "I still haven't found out who did it," he wenton. "But whoever it was--I'm going to show him.I'm going to show him I'm not scared. And my newbike is even better than my old one. I'mgoing to come in first today." "Good for you," I snapped. A tall woman blew a whistle. "Kids!Kids! Gather around for a minute. I wantto explain the rules to you." Everyone left their bikes in the parking lot andgathered around the front steps of the school. I hung back. Anthony will be leading the pack down that hill,I decided. If he wipes out, everyone will crash. My heart began to pound with excitement. There will lots of injuries, I thought. Lotsof wonderful crashes. Lots of screams. How easy would it be to take the brakes offAnthony's bike? I held the black ring in the sunlight. Theevil face smiled at me. Yes, it commanded. Yes! Do it! The tall woman was pointing out the bike routeon a big map. The other kids all listenedcarefully. I slipped away from the group. I sneakedover to Anthony's bike. I studied the hand brakes. All I have to dois snap off the cord, I decided. Once Anthony starts down the hill, hewon't be able to stop. He won't be able to slowdown. He'll speed to the bottom. Then he'll crash. And all the kids behind himwill smash right into him. They'll all crash too. It will be so horrible. It will be so great!
I reached for the brake cord and prepared to snapit off. Should I? I thought wickedly. The face in the ring nodded. Go for it, Beth. Do it! DO IT!

My fingers began to tingle. They felt cold. The cold feeling rose up my arm. Itspread through my whole body. Oh, no, I thought. It's happening again. I'm going out of control. My fingers touched the brake cord. The evil welled up in me. I triedto press it back down. No! I screamed at myself. Don't let ittake over! My fingers wrapped around the cord. Come on, a voice in my head said. Itwill be so easy. And so much fun! No! I thought. No! What am I doing? I shook my head hard. Snap out of it! Ithought. I don't want to do this! The ring wants meto! I snatched my hand away from the bike. No!I won't do it! I can't let this happen! The ring began to burn on my finger. Irefused to look at the face. I've got to get out of here, I realized. Ican't resist the power of the ring! I jumped on my bike and began pedalingfrantically. "Beth--wait!" I heard Danny call."Where are you going?" I didn't answer. I didn't even lookback. I knew I had to get away from there. I've got to get rid of this ring, I thought. I pedaled furiously toward home. A strongwind seemed to come from nowhere. It blew against me,pushing me back. I struggled to bike against the wind. My bikebarely moved. My legs felt heavy. It's the evil, I realized. It'strying to stop me! "No!" I cried. "I won't let youcontrol me!" The powerful force pushed me back. I couldbarely breathe in the powerful rush of wind. It wastrying to make me hurt all those kids! I shut my eyes and pumped my legs as hardas I could. I won't! I vowed. I won'tgive up! I kept pedaling, using all my strength. At last, exhausted, I rolled into mydriveway. I let my bike drop onto thegrass and hurried inside. I ran straight to the basement. This ring is comingoff now! I declared. I tore over to Dad's workbench. I stopped. Chirpy's cage sat on a table next to thebench. Chirpy lay inside the cage. His eyes wereclosed. I tapped on the cage. "Chirpy?Chirpy?" He didn't move. Chirpy was dead. Mom must have brought him down here so I wouldn'tfind him when I got home, I realized. Shewanted to tell me about it first. Poor little bird, I thought sadly. I triedmy best to save him. Then I felt the ring burning on my finger again. No time to worry about Chirpy now, I thought.I can't think of anything else--not until this ringis off. I opened Dad's toolbox and shuffled through histools. Pliers, screwdrivers ... aha!Metal cutters! Just what I need, I thought. This ought to do thetrick. I grabbed the metal cutters and raised themto the ring. "I'll cut you off," I growled at theface. The tip of the cutters touched the ring. Suddenly, the ring began to glow. It warmed on my finger. "No!" I warned. "You can't stop me!" I gripped the ring with the metal cutters. Thering glowed even more brightly. The shiny blackjewel began to feel hot. Black smoke poured out of the ring.Thick, choking smoke. Waves of smoke. I couldn't help it. I dropped the metalcutters. I coughed and began to choke as smoke filled theroom. Can't breathe ... can't breathe ... I raised the ring to my face. "Stop it!" Ipleaded. "Stop!" The smoke filled my throat. Tears stungmy eyes. "I can't see!" I choked out. "Can'tbreathe!" The ring scalded my hand. And then the face floated up. Floated out of thering. Just a smoky, shifting, ghostly form. Thesmoke surrounded a gaunt face. The face inthe ring, now huge. Empty eyes, a nose, andan evil mouth. All made out of smoke. The face rose over me. And opened its mouthwide. Wider. Wider. As if to swallow me whole.

I shrank back against the workbench, my heartthudding in my chest. My eyes burned as I stared through the swirlingsmoke, stared up in horror at the floatingface. "My evil has outgrown the ring!" hebellowed. "Now I need a living bodyto survive. Now I will possess you!" "No!" I shrieked. "Please--" "You can't escape," the face warned. "Noone can!" Through the choking smoke, I eyed the basementsteps. Could I make a run for it? The creature seemed to read my mind."Don't try to run away," he rasped. "Iwill possess you as I possessed your teacher." "Miss Gold!" I gasped. Once again,I remembered how strange she'd looked at thecarnival. How powerful and evil she was. "When the police captured your teacher, Islipped off her finger," the creature explained."She was no use to me anymore. NowI have prepared you. The things you have done until nowwere only little tests. You thought they were evil. To methey were nothing!" He laughed again, a horrible, raspy laugh. My body shuddered, gripped in terror. "Now you are ready, Beth," he said. "Readyfor me to leave the ring once again. I will liveinside you. Together we can do some REAL evil!" "No!" I protested. "I won't let you!I'll fight you! I'll fight you the wholeway!" "You have no choice," the face roared. "Youwear the ring. And now, I will wear you!" "No ... no ..." I begged. "I must have life!" the creature boomed. The black mist floated down on me. Socold. So cold. The face hovered, closer, closer ... The ring, I thought. I've got to get it off! I stared wildly through the smoke. Somethingflashed. Something metal, lying on the workbench. A saw. That's it, I thought. I have no choice. There's only one way to get rid of the ring. I have to cut off my finger. I reached for the saw as the black mist surroundedme. Colder, colder ... I gripped the wooden handle. I took adeep breath. I held the saw to my ring finger--and preparedto cut it off.

I gulped and held my breath. My hand shook as I pressed the saw against myfinger. The black smoke swirled around me. Itried not to breathe it in. The face pressed toward mine. So cold ... so cold ... My body was filling up with cold. You have to do it! I told myself. Before the eviltakes you over! Then I saw the dead bird, lying on itsside. Wait a minute, I thought. Maybe there's another way. The bird ... I dropped the saw. It clattered to thefloor. I tugged at the ring with all my might. The ringfelt lighter with the face no longer inside. Come off, I begged. Come off! WHOOSH! To my shock, the ring slipped off my finger. Yes! I thought. I reached for Chirpy and jammed the ring on hisfoot. Above me, the face contorted into a horriblescowl. "NOOOOO!" he screeched."Nooooooooo!" The face rose up toward the ceiling. Thecold melted out of my body. I rubbed my handstogether. I began to warm up. The smoke hung in the air. I could see theevil face in the swirling mist, fighting to keepaway from the bird. Then, with a final scream, the smoky face wassucked into the body of the dead bird. It was as if I'd turned on a fan and blownit all away. I took a deep breath in the clear air. Iwatched Chirpy closely. Did it work? I wondered. Did I getrid of him? Chirpy's body stirred slightly. Oh,no, I thought. I hope the evil won't comealive inside Chirpy! But Chirpy only shuddered once. Then hegave a choking gasp and fell still. I poked the bird. Dead. I began to tremble all over. I can'tbelieve it, I thought. Did I really kill the evil spirit? There's only one way to find out, I realized. Very carefully, I reached into the cage andplucked out the black ring. I gazed into the jewel. "Yes!" I cried. The ring was perfectly clear. No smokyface inside the jewel. It sparkled and shone like a black diamond. The evil needed life, I realized. But Igave him death. And it killed him. It worked! I started to giggle. Soon I was laughing withjoy. "I did it! I did it!" I shouted. "Ikilled the evil spirit! I freed myself!" I danced around the basement, whooping withhappiness. "I got rid of the evil!" I sang. "Idid it myself! Yes! Yes! Yes!" I paused, panting. Still, I thought, I'dbetter make sure. I decided to bury Chirpy and the ring in adeep hole. Then I'd never have to worry aboutevil again. I found a small wooden box. I placedpoor Chirpy's stiff body inside. "Good-bye, Chirpy," I said. "I'msorry I couldn't save you. But thanks for savingme." I set the black ring beside him. Then Inailed the box shut. I grabbed a shovel and took the little casketoutside behind the garage. I started to dig. Idug as deep a hole as I could. I set the box in the hole and covered it withdirt. Then I marked the grave with a stick. I'd better tell Mom that Chirpy isburied there, I thought. That way she won't digit up to plant flowers or something. Wiping the dirt from my hands, I hummed as Iheaded inside. Mom and Amanda were gone, Irealized. They'd been gone the whole time. They must be out shopping, I thought. I remembered all the mean things I'd doneto Amanda that week. I felt sorry about it. Fromnow on I'm going to be extra-nice to her, Ipromised myself. I heard a car door slam. Amanda racedinto the house. Mom followed. "Beth!" Amanda cried. "Beth--look!Look what Mom bought me!" I smiled and asked, "What is it?" Amanda held her hands behind her back. She washiding whatever it was from me. She wantedto surprise me. That's so cute, I thought. "Mom knew I was upset about my Barbiesbeing ruined," Amanda explained. "So she bought mea present!" She held out one hand. "Look! It's ablack ring--just like yours!" I gasped. Amanda held the ring up to show me.The black jewel flashed. Amanda narrowed her eyes at me. Her facetook on a strange, cold glow. "It even has a face inside!" shecried. "Isn't that cool?"











About R.l. Stine
R.l. Stine is the most popular author inAmerica. He is the creator of theGoosebumps, Give YourselfGoosebumps, Fear Street, and Ghostsof Fear Street series, among other popularbooks. He has written over 250 scarynovels for kids. Bob lives in New YorkCity with his wife, Jane, teenage son,Matt, and dog, Nadine.
THE END

The mummy walks

Goosebumps (R) Series 2000 No. 16
THE MUMMY WALKS
by R.l. STINE
Copyright 1999 by Parachute Press, Inc.

BOOK JACKET INFORMATION
Goosebumps No. 16
APPLE FICTION
One small step for mummy ...
Welcome to the new millennium of fear
Goosebumps (R) SERIES 2000
I didn't see a flight attendant as Istepped into the plane. But my seat was easyto find. It was the very first seat in the front row of thefirst-class section. I fiddled with the seat belt. Then Iremembered the envelope my mom had given me.Did my mom and dad write me a letter? I tore open the envelope and pulled out asheet of paper. My heart skipped a beat asI gazed in shock at the short message: WEARE NOT YOUR PARENTS.
SCHOLASTIC INC.RL4 008-012









THE MUMMY WALKS

"You'll be fine, Michael," Mom said. Itwas the hundredth time she said it! We walked past the lines of people in front of theticket counters. Everyone in the airport seemedto be in a desperate hurry. I watched a young couple run toward thegates. Their suitcases bounced on tinywheels behind them. A man and woman stood near the securitystation, pawing through their carry-on bags, arguingloudly. "I thought you had the tickets. I gave themto you this morning!" "No. You idiot--I told you to bring them!" As Mom, Dad, and I hurried past, Isaw a little girl sitting on top of a stack ofsuitcases, crying. Her parents were pleading withher, begging her to stop. Dad carried my canvas duffel bag. Heturned to talk to me--and stumbled over a luggagecart. I laughed. Dad looked so funny. Why did everyone have to be so tense? Dad dropped my duffel bag onto theconveyor belt. We walked through the securitygate. Dad set off the buzzer. Rolling his eyes, he took his keys from hispocket and tried again. This time he made it through. I watched my bag on the TV screen. Whenit went through the X ray, I could see everything inthe bag. It was totally cool! He picked up my bag, and we walked downthe long hall to the gate. Mom and Dad werewalking so fast, I had to jog to keep up. "Aunt Sandra will be there to meet you inOrlando," Mom said. "You'll see her as soonas you get off the plane." "I know, I know," I groaned. How many times had we gone over this plan? Atleast a thousand! I'd spent the last two weeks thinking aboutall the things I wanted to do in Orlando. Ofcourse, Disney World was at the top of the list. ButI wanted to spend a lot of time at Sea Worldtoo. I'm really into fish and life under thesea. When Mom and Dad took me snorkelingin the Bahamas last summer, I totallyfreaked. I mean, there's this whole beautiful worlddown there with all these amazing creatures! It was liketraveling to another planet. Dad says I'd make a good astronaut.He says I'm a real explorer. And he'sright. I love going to new places, discoveringnew things. So why are they making such a big deal aboutme flying to Orlando by myself? We reached the gate. Dad set down the bag.He glanced nervously at his watch. Mom squeezed my arm. "Don't worry,"she said. "I'm not worrying!" I insisted. "What isyour problem? I'm twelve years old, you know!" Mom and Dad exchanged glances. Mom bither bottom lip. She had already chewed all herlipstick off. "Last boarding call for Flight 501to Pittsburgh," a woman's voice blared onthe loudspeaker. "Flight 501 is boarding throughGate 45." "You've never flown by yourself before," Dad said."We've always been with you." "I'm not worried," I assured them again."It's not too hard. I just sit in my seat, andin a couple of hours I'll be in Orlando." I laughed. "The pilots have to do all the work.Not me." Mom and Dad didn't laugh. "You'resitting in First Class," Mom said. "So you'llbe comfortable." "That's cool," I replied. "This guy atschool told me they serve ice cream sundaesin First Class." "Maybe," Dad said, glancing at his watchagain. He raised his eyes to the gate. "Time for youto board." Mom let out a little cry and wrapped her armsaround me. "Have a good, safe trip, Michael,"she whispered, pressing her cheek against mine. Whenshe pulled back, I saw that she had tears inher eyes. Dad hugged me too. He cleared his throat,but he didn't say anything. "I'll be fine," I told them again. "I'llcall you from Aunt Sandra's." Mom handed me a white envelope.Dad picked up my duffel bag and walked meup to the gate. "You're in seat 1-A," hetold me. He gave me the duffel bag andpatted me on the shoulder. I turned and waved to them. Mom was wipingtears off her cheeks with both hands. "I'll be fine. Really!" I called to her.Then I turned and headed down the boarding tunnelto the plane. Wow, I thought. Why are they so weird? AmI the first kid in history to fly to Orlandoby himself? I didn't see any flight attendants asI stepped into the plane. But my seat was easyto find. It was the very first seat in the front row of theFirst Class section. I jammed my duffel bag into the overheadcompartment. Then I dropped into the seat. Wow. Comfortable. I'm going to enjoy this, I decided. I leaned into the aisle, searching for a flightattendant. I wanted to ask if they were goingto show a movie. No one there yet. I fiddled with the seatbelt, trying to loosen it.Finally, I got it right and clicked it into place.I settled back against the soft leather seat. And remembered the envelope my mom had givenme. I had jammed it into my jeans pocket. I pulled it out and studied it. A plain whiteenvelope. Was it a letter? Did Mom and Dad write mea note or something? I tore the envelope open and pulled out asheet of paper. I unfolded it, brought it close to my face--and my heart skipped a beat as I gazed inshock at the short message: WE ARE NOT YOUR PARENTS.

"Huh?" I gripped the paper between my two hands and staredat the words until they blurred. "This is a joke--right?" I murmured to myself. Mom and Dad were always teasing me because Idon't look like them. They're both tall andblond. And I have dark-brown hair and browneyes, and I'm kind of short and kind ofchubby. But this was a very strange joke. I read the short note again. Then I read itout loud: "We are not your parents." It was written in blue ink in a large,looping script. My dad's handwriting. I realized that my hands were suddenly trembling. I folded up the note and shoved it into mypocket. "Weird," I muttered. "Weird." Why would Mom and Dad write that? Whatdoes it mean? "We are not your parents." If it was a joke, I didn't get it. I'll ask Aunt Sandra about it, Idecided. Or maybe I'll call Mom andDad as soon as I get to Orlando and ask themwhat it meant. "We are not your parents." My stomach felt a little queasy. My heartfluttered. I leaned into the aisle again. Still no flightattendants. I raised myself in the seat and glanced around thecabin. No one else in First Class. I countedfour rows of empty gray seats. Am I the only one flying First Class? Iwondered. Orlando is a popular place. Where iseveryone? My throat suddenly felt dry. I wanteda glass of water. But there was no one to ask. I unclasped the seatbelt, let the beltdrop to the cushion, and stood up. The floorvibrated beneath me. I could hear the engine warmingup. A heavy red curtain separated First Classfrom Coach. I made my way to the curtain andpushed it aside. I poked my head into the Coach cabin.Shafts of sunlight poured through the double rows ofwindows. Empty. No one there. No one. "Hey--" I called out, squeezing thecurtain in my hand. "Hey--anyone here?" My voice sounded tiny in the big, emptycabin. The rumble and whine of the jet engine was theonly other sound. "Hey--" I let the curtain drop back into place andturned back to the front. "Anybody here?" Icalled. "What's going on?" Silence. No sign of anyone. There's some mistake, I decided. I'm onthe wrong plane or something. I've got to get off this plane. I reached up and started to tug my duffel bagfrom the overhead bin. I was still tugging when I heard a loud, scrapingsound--then a WHOOSH of air. I gasped as the airplane door slammedshut. "Wait! Let me out of here!" I cried."Let me out!"

I dropped my bag and lurched to the door. "Let me out!" I cried again, shouting over theroar of the engine. "Hey--somebody!" I pounded on the door. And fell back against the bathroom as the planebegan to move. We're backing up, I realized. Backingaway from the gate. "No, wait!" I screamed. I spun toward the cockpit door. I have to tell the pilot that no one else isonboard, I decided. I have to make him stop the plane! It's a mistake. A big mistake! I knocked on the door, softly at first.Then harder. "Hey--" I called in. "You've gotto stop! There's no one here! Hey--can you hearme?" No reply. I pressed a hand against the wall to steady myselfas the plane turned, backing up. "Can you hear me?" I shrieked. "I'mall alone back here!" My dry throat ached from screaming. Iswallowed hard. Took a deep breath. And thenpounded with both fists on the cockpit door. "Listen to me! Stop the plane! Stop it!" No reply. Not a sound. Someone has to be in there, I knew. Someone is piloting this plane. I grabbed the cockpit door handle.Frantically tried to pull it open. The door wouldn't budge. I leaned my shoulder against it. Tried to push itopen. No. Was it locked? Why would the pilots lock themselves inside? My heart thudded in my chest. I swallowedagain, my throat as dry and scratchy as steel
wool. "Please!" I called in to the cockpit."Why won't you listen to me?" The plane lurched and I tumbled against thebathroom door again. As I pulled myself up, I heard aloudspeaker crackle to life. "Please take your seat for takeoff." A man's voice. "No! You don't understand!" I wailed. Ipounded again on the cockpit door. "There's beena mistake!" Loud static made me cover my ears. Thenthrough the static, the man's voice repeated hisorder: "Please take your seat. We cannot takeoff until you are in your seat." I hesitated. They aren't going to listen to me, I realized. They aren't going to talk to me. With a weary sigh, I slumped into my seat. Iwas still buckling the seatbelt when I felt theplane take off. "I don't believe this," I muttered. I turned to the window and saw the ground slantaway. Up, up. The blue sky filled the roundwindow. I peered down at the airport, the surroundingtrees, the square blocks of houses, tiny likedollhouses now. This isn't happening, I told myself. I'm all alone. All alone on this hugejet plane. I could feel the air pressure change as theplane began to climb. It turned sharply. I heard the engines whinelouder. The plane tilted slowly. Dipped to oneside. Then straightened out. Turning ...turning ... Peering down, I saw that the square blocks ofhouses had vanished. I saw green treetops. Empty fields.Then more treetops. Then a long, narrow strip of yellow. Beach? Yes. The long, sandy beach along theAtlantic. I stared down, frozen in place. We were heading out over the ocean now. Sunlightsparkled, casting sheets of gold over the rollingblue-green waters, making the whole oceanshimmer and gleam. Why are we flying over the ocean? Iwondered. And then I realized: We're not flyingto Orlando. This can't be the way to Orlando. I slumped down in the seat, my hands clammyand wet, clasped tightly together in my lap. Itook a long, deep breath and held it, tryingto slow down my racing heart. Where are we going? Where? And then, as I took another deep breath, Isaw the pilot's door slowly open. ...

A man stepped out from the cockpit. His darkeyes narrowed, examining me coldly. He looked about forty, older than my dad.He had straight, shiny black hair streaked withwhite, pulled back in a long ponytail. Hisblack mustache came down around the sides of hismouth and was also streaked with white. He was very tanned. A tiny diamond studsparkled in one earlobe. He wore a green-and-black camouflagejacket over baggy khakis. He had two rowsof silver medals pinned to the right breast of hisjacket. "Which-who are you?" I managed to choke out. He continued to study me with those jet-blackeyes. He didn't reply. "What's going on?" I demanded. "Where iseverybody? Where is this plane going?" He raised both hands and motioned for meto relax. "All in good time," he said. He hada surprisingly soft voice with a hint of aforeign accent. "But--I don't understand!" I sputtered. Again, he motioned for me to relax. His hands wereas tanned as his face. He turned to the small galley and pulled aplastic tray from a shelf. "It is a longflight. I will prepare a lunch for you." I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding. Myknees suddenly felt weak, as if they were aboutto collapse. "I don't want lunch!" I screamed in ahigh, shrill voice. "I want out of here!Turn this plane around! There's been a terriblemistake!" He raised a finger to his lips. "Shhh."He opened a refrigerator and pulled out asandwich wrapped in foil. "What would you liketo drink?" "I don't want a drink!" I shrieked."I want to get off this plane! I want to gohome! This is a mistake!" "It is no mistake," he said softly. Heplaced a can of Coke on the tray. "It has to be a mistake!" I insisted."I'm supposed to meet my aunt in Orlando!Who are you? What is this flight? Where are wegoing?" He set down the tray and turned to me. "Myname is Lieutenant Henry," he replied,bowing his head slightly. "I am sorry. That isall I am allowed to tell you, Excellency." "Huh? Excellency?" I frowned at him."Why did you call me that?" He didn't answer. He's crazy! I decided. He's some kind of lunatic. He and a pilothave hijacked this plane. I'm being kidnapped orsomething! My knees gave way. I dropped backinto the seat. I took a deep breath, tryingto slow my racing heart. "Do not be frightened," Lieutenant Henry said."You will be told all, Excellency. You willlearn everything in due time." Excellency? What was he talking about? "Here." He set the tray in my lap. "Havesome lunch. It's a very long flight."
Lieutenant Henry disappeared back into thecockpit and didn't return. We flew all night. I tilted the seatback and tried to sleep. But I was too frightened. What is going on? I asked myself. Thatweird note from my parents ... the emptyplane ... this man calling me Excellency... I stared out the window. I could see a palehalf-moon, trails of gray mist curling overit. Dark ocean below. Endless ocean, gleamingbrightly in the moonlight. I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.When I awoke, red sunlight was streaming through thesmall, round window. I peered out. The ocean had been replacedby another kind of sea--a sea of yellow and whitesand. "Desert," I murmured. The pilot's door opened. I saw the backof a man's head in the pilot's seat. Red hairfalling out from under a black baseball cap. Lieutenant Henry stepped out and closed thedoor, blocking my view. "Did you sleep, Excellency?" he asked,nodding his head in another short bow. The plane bounced. He steadied himself with onehand against the cabin wall. As he raised his arm,I glimpsed a brown leather gun holster under hisjacket. Oh, wow, I thought. The plane really is being hijacked. Does he plan to shoot me when we land? Ishe going to hold me for ransom? He's in for a surprise. My parents bothwork. They don't have much ransom money. "Did you sleep?" he repeated. "I guess," I replied, stretching my handsover my head. "Where are we? What desert isthat down there?" He turned into the galley. "We will be landingsoon," he replied. He gave me breakfast--orange juice, an apple, and a bowl ofcornflakes with milk. Then he disappeared backinto the cockpit. As I spooned up the cereal, I peered downat the yellow sand. White rocks poked up throughthe sand like bones. As we slowly dropped, theshadow of the plane slid over the sand, a longgray shadow. We bounced down on a small runway betweentwo low yellow hills. The plane hit hard.The milk splashed out of my cereal bowl. I could see a long white stucco airport.As we rolled to a stop, I saw a row of greenJeeps. Brown-uniformed soldiers with rifles.Clusters of people in white robes. The plane stopped with a jolt. I was thrownforward against the seatbelt. Lieutenant Henry appeared in the cockpitdoorway. "Sorry about the landing,Excellency," he said. "The runway is abit too short for this large plane." "Where are we?" I demanded angrily. "Whydid you bring me here? Why do you keep calling meExcellency?" "Come," he said, motioning for me to undo theseatbelt. The cabin door slid open. Brightsunlight streamed in. "I'm sure that GeneralRameer will explain everything to you." I unbuckled the belt, but I didn't standup. "Am I being kidnapped? Am I?" He smiled for the first time. His dark eyesflashed merrily, as if I had made a joke. "Of course not," he replied.
Lieutenant Henry led me out into the brightsunlight. As we stepped onto a metalstairway, I had to shield my eyes from theglare. A blast of hot, dry air greetedme. Our shoes clanged down the stairway. Fourstern-looking soldiers met us at the bottom.Lieutenant Henry nodded to them. They gave hima two-fingered salute. Standing back by the little airport, I saw acrowd of people. Some were in white robes. Some were incamouflage shirts and pants. Some worebrightly colored shirts and shorts. They all were cheering. Many of them waved greenpennant-shaped banners. At the side of thebuilding, a small band was playing. Was this all for me? "This is totally crazy," I murmured. With Lieutenant Henry at my side, Ifollowed the four soldiers across the airfield.They led us to a long black limousine parked atthe end of the runway. A dark-uniformed driver bowed and pulled openthe back door of the enormous car. Thesoldiers stepped aside, walking stiffly inrhythm. "Get in, Excellency," LieutenantHenry urged. "Climb into the car. GeneralRameer awaits you." I hesitated. The hot sun beamed down onme, but I still felt a cold chill run down myback. I'm a million miles from home, I thought.Nowhere to run. No way to escape. I lowered my head and peered into the car. Sitting on the red leather seat was a large,smiling man in a white linen suit. He hadcurly white hair above a slender, tannedface. A stubble of dark beard on his cheeks andchin. Flashing black eyes. He held a shiny black cane between his legs.A green-jeweled ring sparkled on the pinky fingerof his right hand. He waved for me to climb in beside him."Welcome, Excellency," he called out in ahoarse voice. I leaned into the doorway. "Why are you callingme that?" I cried. And then I couldn't hold it back. All ofmy anger, all of my fear and confusion burst out ofme. "I demand to see my parents!" I screamed."I'm not getting into your car! I want to talkto my parents right now!" General Rameer's smile faded quickly. Hiseyes dulled. His whole face appeared to darken. "I'm sorry, Michael," he said softly."Your parents are no longer alive."

I gasped. And grabbed the limo door to steadymyself. "Huh? My parents--?" General Rameer nodded sadly.
"But--they took me to the airport in NewYork yesterday!" I cried. "They saw meonto the plane and--" "Do you mean the Clarkes? Those people are not yourparents, Excellency," General Rameer said. "Not my parents?" "They were supposed to let you know the truth before youboarded the plane." The note! We are not your parents. Was it true? "But--I--I--" I sputtered, still grippingthe limo door for support. "Get in," General Rameer urged. "I willnot harm you. There is no need to be afraid,Michael." "Climb in," Lieutenant Henry alsourged, placing a firm hand on my tremblingshoulder. I gazed back toward the airport. The crowdwas still cheering. The green pennants waved. The bandcontinued to play a happy march. The sun pounded down on me. My head throbbedpainfully. I suddenly felt as if I weremelting, melting into the tar of the runway. I took a deep breath and climbed into the redleather seat beside General Rameer. The limo door closed behind me. I felt acold burst of air from the air-conditioning. I turned to General Rameer. His whitesuit gleamed. He gripped his shiny ebonycane tightly with both hands. He nodded to the driver. The car began to rollacross the runway. Past the band and the crowd of cheeringpeople. I couldn't see them clearly now. The limowindows were tinted dark gray. "My parents--" I started. "Don't worry about the Clarkes," GeneralRameer said softly. "They will be treated well." "You mean--they're okay?" I gasped. The general nodded. "They are being well paid forprotecting you. They did a good job for the pasttwelve years." "Uh ... protecting me?" "They hid you and they protected you," GeneralRameer replied. I squinted out the tinted window, my mindwhirring, trying to understand. The big limo bounced over a narrow road.I saw rows of small white houses on oneside of the car. The rolling sands of the desertstretched endlessly out the other window. I saw people walking along the side of the road.They turned and stared at the limo as we bouncedby. "I--I don't believe any of this," Istammered, shaking my head. He patted my arm. His eyeswatered. His face suddenly revealed realsadness. "I know this must be hard for you," he said in hishoarse, whispery voice. "I know this must come asa terrible shock." "So ... Mom and Dad--I mean, theClarkes--" I started. "They took you away to the United States,"General Rameer interrupted, his dark eyeslocked on mine. "You were a baby. You cannotremember. They escaped with you to New York.They had their orders." "Orders?" "To protect you. To keep our enemies fromfinding you. To bring you up as a normal boy." "And my real parents?" I asked. He lowered his head until his forehead touched thetip of his cane. "Your real parents were killed inthe war." I swallowed hard. "War?" "Our twelve-year struggle with the rebelforces. Our twelve-year battle against those whowould take control and destroy our nation." I stared at him, sweat pouring down my foreheaddespite the air-conditioning. Struggling to take this all in. Strugglingto make sense of what he was telling me. "What is this nation?" I asked finally. "Whatis it called?" His face brightened. "Jezekiah," he toldme. "Jezekiah. It is your homeland,Michael. It is your nation." "I--I'm very confused," I confessed. Iclasped my cold, clammy hands together in mylap. "It is to be expected," General Rameersaid, nodding. "But the news is all good,Excellency. You see, after twelve years ofwar, we have won. It is finally safe for youto return and lead your people." I swallowed again. Was this all a joke? Alie? I stared deep into the general's eyes, searchingfor the truth. But I could see only my ownreflection. "Am I really the leader of this nation?" Ifinally choked out. "Is it true?" He nodded. "Yes. We are driving to theRoyal Palace. You will take your place as theruler of Jezekiah." He gripped my arm tightly. "But first, youmust prove that you really are Michael. You mustprove that you really are the royal prince." I uttered a short gasp. "Prove it?How?" He squeezed my arm. "It is an easytest. You must tell us the location of the mummy." I gaped at him. "Mummy? Whatmummy?"

The limo pulled through a tall iron gateonto a long, paved driveway. Two rows ofpalm trees leaned over us as we rolled slowlyup to the Royal Palace. My mouth dropped open as the palace cameinto view. An endless pink-and-white building oftowers and turrets and gated courtyards. Allalong the drive, brown-uniformed soldiers stoodguard at stiff attention, rifles raised attheir waists. As we passed a wide courtyard, I saw abubbling waterfall splashing into a huge,tear-shaped swimming pool. Tall shrubs andclumps of palm trees provided shade allalong the walk that led to the brass double doors atthe front. "This is your home, Excellency," GeneralRameer said quietly. "I see you areoverwhelmed." "I don't believe any of this," Iconfessed. He chuckled, but his expression remainedsolemn. "I hope it works out for you," hemuttered under his breath.
"In ancient times, our people made mummiesof the dead, just as the Egyptians did," GeneralRameer explained. The two of us were in the dining room, anenormous room with gold-papered walls,silvery curtains, and a crystal chandelier thatappeared to float over us. We were seated across fromeach other at one end of a long, polishedmahogany table. Servants had brought out lunch--bowls piledhigh with fruit, dates and figs, plates ofroast chicken and lamb, salads, potatoes, andrice. When I sat down, I didn't think I couldeat. My stomach felt tied in knots. Myhead was still swimming from everything that I'd heard andseen. But I was hungrier than I thought. After all,I hadn't eaten a real meal for nearly a day.I piled my plate high. General Rameerseemed pleased to see me eat so hungrily. And as I ate, he explained to me about themummy. "The mummy of the Emperor Pukrah is anational treasure, Michael," he said, spreadinga thick brown paste onto a slice offlatbread. "Pukrah was an ancient leader.Pukrah's mummy is the oldest one known in theworld." General Rameer tore off an end of the breadand handed it to me. The pasty stuff had a strangetaste, sweet and spicy at the same time. "Pukrah's mummy was kept for centuries inthis palace," the general continued. "Then, twelveyears ago, the rebels began their war. Yourparents--our rulers--decided the mummy was nolonger safe. "They knew the rebels were desperateto capture the mummy. So your parents decidedto hide the mummy where neither side could find it. Andthey hid something of priceless value inside themummy." I swallowed a slice of chicken. Then Iscooped some of the spicy potato salad ontomy plate. "What did they hide?" I asked. General Rameer tore a cluster of grapesfrom the bowl and popped them one by one into his mouth."Your parents opened the mummy and hid theJezekiah Sapphire inside." "The what?" I asked. "It is the most beautiful jewel in the world,"General Rameer gushed, clapping his hands together.He suddenly had a dreamy look in his eyes."The sapphire is so valuable, our entiretreasury is based on it." I squinted across the table at him. I didn'treally know what he meant. But I could see by theexpression on his face that the JezekiahSapphire had to be worth big bucks. "Our nation cannot survive without it," GeneralRameer said, leaning close. "For twelveyears, the war was fought. The rebels searcheddesperately for Pukrah's mummy.They knew if they found the mummy--and the jewel--that victory was theirs. "But your parents hid the mummy well. It wasnot found." He sighed and picked up another handfulof grapes. "Now the war is nearly ended," he said in hishoarse voice. "A few rebels remain. Butwe have won. We must find the mummy and claim thesapphire." I dropped my fork. "You mean--you don'tknow where it's hidden?" General Rameer shook his head. "Your parentsdidn't tell anyone. And then they died as the warbegan. No one here knows the mummy's hidingplace. Not me. Not any of the other generals." He leaned even closer, and his dark eyesburned into mine. "We must have that mummy. Ournation cannot survive without it." He grabbed my wrist tightly. "And you,Michael. You are the only one who knows where itis hidden." "Huh? I do?" I tried to free my arm.But he kept his tight grasp on my wrist, hiseyes frozen on mine. "You were a tiny baby. Your parents planted amemory chip in your brain telling the mummy'shiding place. Then you were rushed away to theUnited States where the secret would be safe." "Oh. I see." What a lame reply. But what was I supposed to say? My mouth suddenly felt dry as cotton again.I took a long drink from the crystal watergoblet. General Rameer finally let go of my wrist.But he didn't turn away his gaze. Hedidn't blink. He stared at me as if tryingto find the mummy's hiding place in my eyes. "It is good to have you back where you belong," hesaid, forcing a short, tense smile. "What apity that your parents cannot see what a fine young manyou have grown to be." "Uh ... thank you," I repliedawkwardly. I took another long drink. Aservant stepped forward with a silver pitcherto refill my glass. "Now you will lead us to the mummy and thesapphire," General Rameer said. "And the nationwill be so happy to have you--its true leader--backhome." "Uh ... yeah," I replied,nervously ruffling the white linen napkin in mylap. "Do you wish to tell me the mummy's hidingplace now?" General Rameer asked softly."All of Jezekiah is waiting to hear." I took a deep breath. "Well ..." I froze in panic. My heart did aflip-flop in my chest. Do I know where the mummy is? I asked myself. No. No way. I don't have a clue. General Rameer stared at me, waiting.Waiting for my answer. All of Jezekiah is waiting for myanswer, I realized, gripping the edge of the table. When they find out I don't know anything, Icould be in real danger. What am I going to do? What am I going to tell him? Think of something, Michael ... think!

I let my hands slide off the table edge anduttered a loud groan. I rolled my eyes up in my head. Tiltedmy body ... tilted ... ... until I fell off the chair, onto myside on the carpet. "Ow!" I landed harder than I had planned. Above me, I heard General Rameer cry outin surprise. I saw two servants comehurrying over to see what the problem was. General Rameer climbed out of his chair andleaned over me. He gazed down with real concern.He shook me gently with both hands. "Michael?Are you okay?" I groaned again and rolled onto my back.I blinked several times. "Sorry," I whispered. "I--I'mokay." I sat up unsteadily, blinking a few moretimes. General Rameer stepped back. He let outa sigh of relief. The color came backto his face. "It's all ... too big a shock," Isaid, rubbing my forehead. "I mean ... yesterdayI was a kid from Long Island. Flying to meetmy aunt and going to Disney World. And today..." "Yes, yes." The general helped me gentlyto my feet. "I understand." He held onto me until he was sure Iwas steady. "You have had your whole world turnedupside down, Excellency. I am so sorry.I didn't mean to hurry you. It is just that wemust have Pukrah and the sapphire back--immediately." "Yes. Of course," I replied,swallowing. He handed me the water goblet. "I will give youtime to rest. And to think. Later, once you arefeeling better, we will talk again." I nodded weakly and took a long drink.Two uniformed guards appeared from out of nowhere.General Rameer ordered them to take me to myquarters. They led me down an endless hallway. Thewalls were covered in silky gold curtains. Igazed at a long row of enormous, gold-framedoil paintings. Portraits ofold-fashioned-looking people, all dark and short andkind of chubby. Are these really my ancestors? I wondered. No. I was sure that General Rameer and hismen made a terrible mistake. They got thewrong boy, I decided. It's as simple asthat. And that note from my parents? Just a joke? Ordid my parents somehow make the same mistake? It was all too much to think about. I felt asif my head was bursting! The guards led me to my quarters--not just oneroom, but several huge rooms around an outdoorcourtyard with a tall, bubbling fountain. I stepped into the front room, all gold andsilver and red. The room was as big as my wholehouse back home. Filled with chairs and couchesand desks and bookshelves, and furniture Ididn't even recognize! I didn't really get a good look. Because myeyes stopped at the telephone on the desk againstthe back wall. And I knew instantly what I had to do. I had to call Mom and Dad back home.I had to get a call through to New York. Ihad to explain the mistake that had been made. They must be so frantic, so worried, Irealized. When Aunt Sandra called them andtold them I didn't arrive inOrlando, they probably went nuts. They must havethe police and the FBI out looking for me! My heart pounding, I practically leaped acrossthe enormous room. I grabbed the phone. Mom and Dad will know how to get me away fromhere, I told myself. They'll talk to this general.And I'll be on the first plane back to NewYork. I lifted the receiver to my ear and listened for thebuzz of a dial tone. Instead, I heard silence. A click. Then a man's voice purred in my ear:"Yes, Excellency? Did you wish to make acall?" I groaned. "Are you the ... operator?" "Yes, I am your operator," hereplied. "Well ... I'd like to call Long Island,New York," I told him, trying to soundcalm. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I cannot make thatcall." "Excuse me?" I cried. "You mean--" "I have certain orders, Excellency." "But--but--" "I'm really sorry, sir. Do you wishto call somewhere else?" "Uh ... yes," I replied, thinking quickly."I'd like to call Orlando. Orlando,Florida." "Oh, I'm sorry, Excellency. I cannotdo that." "But I need to speak to my aunt!" I shoutedangrily, losing it. "I'm so sorry," he purred. "Myorders, sir." "Orders?" I shrieked. "What exactlyare your orders?" "From the general," he replied, softly,calmly. "You're not allowed to make anycalls. Until the general gives permission." I slammed down the receiver. I glanced quickly around the room. Now what? I have to get out of the palace, I decided.If I can get away from here and get into town, Ican use a pay phone, a phone without apersonal operator! It shouldn't be too hard to sneak away, Itold myself. I just have to avoid the guards. I took a deep breath and trottedto the door. My hand trembled as I grabbed the shiny brassknob. Turned it. Pulled. The door wouldn't move. I tried pushing. Then pulling. "Excellency?" a voice called from the otherside of the door. "Is there anything I can getyou?" A guard. I was locked inside. And the door was guarded. General Rameer wasn't taking any chances. "Doesn't he trust me?" I murmured outloud. I'm trapped here, I realized. I'msupposed to be their ruler--but I'm a prisoneruntil I lead them to Pukrah's mummy. With a heavy sigh, I threw myself onto one of thered velvet couches. I sank into the cushion andburied my face in my hands. A few seconds later, I heard a cough. The rustle of a curtain. A footstep. I'm not alone in here, I realized. I lowered my hands from my face and spun around. "Who's there?"

A girl about my age stepped out from behind thesilk curtains. She was tall and thin, dressed in a whitepolo shirt tucked into white shorts. She hadshort red-brown hair parted in the middle, withbangs that came down to her olive-coloredeyes. "Who are you?" I cried, jumping to my feet. She raised a finger to her lips. "Shhh."Her green eyes flashed. She motioned to thedoor. "They will hear," she whispered. She tiptoed over the thick carpet, studyingme as she walked. "Are you the prince?" "I--I guess," I stammered. "But who areyou?" She returned her finger to her lips. "Shhh.The guards don't know I'm in here. I'mMegan Kerr." "Michael Clarke," I told her. "Atleast, I thought I was Michael Clarke untilthis morning. Now I'm not really sure what myname is." She studied me some more. "Is it okay to callyou Michael?" I shrugged. "Whatever." "Should I call you Excellency?" "No--please!" I begged. Her eyes went to the door. We could hear twoguards talking on the other side. "Well, who are you?" I demanded. "Whatare you doing in here? You don't sound like you're fromhere. Are you an American?" She pulled me over to the red velvet couch.I sat down next to her. "Yes, I'm American," she whispered.Her expression turned solemn. "My parentswere the American advisers to General Rameer.They were both killed in a bomb explosion." "I'm sorry," I whispered. She twisted a strand of her bangs between herfingers, then let go and dropped her hand to her lap.She sighed. "I had no relatives backhome. Nowhere to go. No one to take me. SoGeneral Rameer adopted me." "You live in the palace?" I asked. She nodded. "What's it like?" I whispered. "It's horrible!" she replied. "I missmy friends. There are no other kids here. I missmy school. I miss everything! And look at thisplace." She swept her hand around. "It's all sofancy. Everything is gold and silver. Jeweledthis and velvet that and silk that! Nothing isnormal! I can't put a poster up in myroom. I can't get any good CD'S. Ican't--" She realized she had raised her voice. Shegasped. We both turned to the door. "I'm sorry. Why are we talking about me?"she whispered. "You are the one who is in trouble." Her words sent a chill down the back of myneck. "Yes, I know. I'm in majortrouble." She leaned closer. Her eyes burnedinto mine. "You don't know, Michael. You don'thave any idea how much trouble you're in." "Huh? What do you mean?" "These are bad men," Megan whispered. "But, Megan, General Rameer is your fathernow. He adopted you--" I protested. She shut her eyes. "I don'tcare. He is the most evil of all of them. Theyare bad men, Michael." She opened her eyes and turned to me. Her chintrembled. "Do you really think General Rameeris going to let you rule the kingdom?" I swallowed. "I don't understand. ..." "General Rameer has fought a war for twelveyears," she explained. "Now that he has nearlywon, he will not give up his power to atwelve-year-old." "But he calls me Excellency," Iargued. "And he said that once I have showed him thehiding place of the mummy--" "After you lead them to the mummy, they planto kill you!" Megan cried. My mouth dropped open in horror. "That is why I sneaked in here," Meganwhispered. "To warn you." "But I don't even know where the mummy is!"I exclaimed. Megan's eyes narrowed. "Then you are in evenbigger trouble," she said. "They will torture you.They--" The door burst open. Two brown-uniformed guards leaped into theroom. Megan and I jumped to our feet. Before Megan could take a step, the guardsgrabbed her. "Let go of me!" she screamed, tryingto twist free. "Let go!" They dragged her to the door. "Where are you taking her?" I cried. "Whatare you going to do to her?"

The door slammed behind them. I could hear Megan arguing with the guards,telling them to let her go, all the way down thelong hall. I froze in place, waiting for my heartto stop racing. I stared at the door, as ifexpecting it to burst open again, for the guardsto return and drag me away too. "What am I going to do?" I asked myself outloud. Megan's frightening words repeated in my ears.They are evil men. ... They plan to killyou. ... They will torture you. But if they have the wrong kid ... I toldmyself, my thoughts whirring frantically through mymind. If they have the wrong kid, they'll have to letme go--right? They can't keep me here if I'm not the babythat was sent to America twelve years ago. Maybe I am that baby, I argued with myself. But if I am that baby and the memory chip wasplanted in my brain ... why don't Iremember? Stop! I ordered myself. I shook my headhard, trying to stop all these desperate thoughts. I stared at the door. "Whoa." I realized the two guards weren'tout there. They had dragged Megan away. Was it possible? Did they leave the doorunlocked? I took off. Leaped over a red armchair andflew to the door. I grabbed the knob. Turnedit--and pulled. Yes! The door swung open. I poked my head into the hall, expectingto see guards. I peered in both directions. Empty. Thelong golden-walled hallway stood empty asfar as I could see. I stepped out, my heart pounding so hard I couldfeel it against my ribs. I carefully closed the door behind me. Which way? Which way? I had to find the back of the palace. Maybethere were fewer guards there, I decided. Maybeif I could get to the back, I stood a chance ofescaping. Shafts of yellow sunlight streamed through thetall windows that lined the hall. It was still morning,so the sun was still in the east, I figured. But what direction did the palace face? I didn't have a clue. Get going, Michael, I ordered myself.The important thing is to get out of here! Keeping against the wall, I began jogging to myright. My shoes thudded softly over the thick redcarpet. Sunlight flooded the hall. The tallwindows stretched nearly from floor to ceiling. Betweenthe windows, big oil portraits of myancestors--or somebody's ancestors--stared down at me, watching me run. Near the end of the hall, silky goldcurtains billowed in a soft breeze, making ascraping sound over the carpet. I was nearly to the curtains when I heardanother sound. The thud of footsteps. "Oh!" A sharp cry escaped my throat. I dove behind the curtains. Pulled them aroundme. Dropped to my knees. Peered out the side. Several guards marched past, rifles heldstiffly in front of them. They moved in a tightformation, eyes straight ahead, swinging their freearms in a steady rhythm, not saying a word. I held my breath until they turned acorner. Then, slowly, shakily, I climbedto my feet. A close call, I told myself. Now what? Which direction do I go? My legs trembled as I stepped out from behind thecurtains. Silence in the hall now. And then I heard a PING PING. What's making that sound? I turned and saw an enormous insect--somekind of giant horsefly maybe--flying into awindowpane. PING ... PING ... The insect kept flying at the window, wingsfluttering furiously, battering its fat blackbody against the glass. What a waste of time, I thought. It'll neverget out the window that way. PING PING. I watched the big insect try again, again. Out the window, I thought. Out the window ... Yes! Maybe I can escape out the window. I dove across the hall. I brushed the big,buzzing insect away with one hand. And stepped upto the window. It was a double window with a handle on each pane. I peered out, into a large, grassy courtyard.Empty. Guarded only by a tall granitestatue of some kind of winged person. No human guards. Excellent! I grabbed the window handles, one in each hand.And I tugged. The windows were heavier than I thought. Theydidn't budge. I squeezed the metal handles andtugged harder. Please open, I prayed. Please ...please ... Yes! The windows began to move. As Ipulled, they slid toward me, creaking heavily. Yes! I pulled them open just wide enough to slip through. Warm, fresh air from the courtyard greetedme. I leaned out. Pressed my hands on the windowledge. Started to lift myself up. Up and out ... And felt strong hands grab my shoulders. "Yaaaaii!" A startled scream burst from mythroat. The hands tightened, pulled me back in. I turned to face two grim-looking guards. "General Rameer will not like this," one of them said,frowning. "Come with us," his partner ordered. And then headded with a sneer, "Excellency."

The two guards led me down a flight of marblestairs. We passed several meeting rooms withlong mahogany tables. Then a library withbookshelves covering the walls and a pool table inthe middle of the room. We passed a kitchen where severalwhite-uniformed cooks busily prepared lunch.The smell of fried onions followed us down thehall. We turned a corner and entered a smallroom. As I stepped inside, I saw that allfour walls were covered with maps. Most of them,I guessed, were close-up, detailed maps ofJezekiah and its neighbors. Some of the maps were covered with red and blue pins.Some maps had been scrawled on, with lines andcircles drawn in red and blue ink. General Rameer sat at a desk at theback of the room. He had a large mapunrolled on the desktop. He leaned over it,scowling and murmuring to himself, drawing a line on themap with one finger. He glanced up quickly when he heard the guardsand me enter. "Michael?" His features twistedin confusion. "He was trying to escape from the palace," oneof the guards reported. General Rameer narrowed his eyes at me."Where?" he asked the guards. "How was he tryingto escape?" "Through windows leading to the east portico," aguard reported. General Rameer scowled at me, furrowing hiswhite brows sternly. "You may leave us," hetold the guards, waving both hands, motioning for themto go. "Wait outside the door." The guards turned and walked out stiffly. Theyclosed the door behind them. General Rameer squinted at me, tapping hisbig green ring on top of the map on his desk. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the room,clasping and unclasping my fists. My heartthudded in my chest. It felt like that bighorsefly was inside me--PING PING--banging against my insides, trying to break out. "You know the palace is heavily guarded?" thegeneral asked finally. I nodded. "Yeah. I know," I murmured ina hoarse, frightened voice. "And you still tried to escape through a window?" "Yeah," I confessed. "I tried." His laugh startled me, made me jump. "That's just the kind of bravery we expect fromour leader!" he declared. He stepped around thedesk and clapped me hard on the back. Heshook my hand, squeezing it till my knucklescracked. "I knew you were the right boy, Michael," hesaid, smiling warmly, his white teeth gleaming underthe low ceiling lights. "The ruler of this kingdomhas to have that kind of reckless courage." "Uh ... yeah. I guess," I repliedweakly. My legs were shaking. I didn't know whatto say. I could barely think straight! He rested a hand heavily on my shoulder andguided me to the wall across from the desk. "Comelook at this map," he said, still smiling. He pointed his walking stick over a largecolor map of Jezekiah, mostly oranges andyellows. Across the desert in black were crudeline drawings of structures. Maybe cavesor lakes or something. "This is your kingdom," General Rameer said.He stabbed a finger onto a black star near thesouthern border. "This is the palace right here.We are in the capital city ofRamenn." He pulled his finger away, and I stared at thestar as if I could actually see the palace and thetown. "Did you study Jezekiah in school?" heasked. "Well ... no," I replied honestly. He frowned. "We will have to make the kingdom morewell known, won't we?" he declared. "We will haveto put Jezekiah on the map, so to speak." "I guess," I replied weakly. "Here is the desert," the general continued,sliding his stick over the large orange-yellowarea. "As you can see, most of the kingdom isdesert. And the desert is filled with many tallrock structures. And cut into these tall rocksare many caves." He turned to make sure I was concentrating.I stared straight ahead at the map. "Go ahead, Michael. Take a good lookat the caves," he urged, lowering his voice.He took a step back so that I could see theentire map. "Go ahead," he repeated, his hand heavily onmy shoulder again. My eyes swept over the drawings on theyellow map. I saw dozens of caves, somebig, some little. Why is he showing me this? I asked myself. Whyis he making me study the caves? Of course, I knew the answer. I knew what was coming next. And it filled mewith cold dread. "Which cave is it, Michael?" GeneralRameer asked softly, tightening his hand on myshoulder. "Which cave is Pukrah's mummyhidden in?" I stared straight ahead at the map. I realized I was breathing hard, my chestheaving up and down. "Which cave?" General Rameer repeated. "Youhave the information in your brain, Michael. Point to itnow. Show me the hiding place of Pukrah'smummy." "I ... I ..." My knees were trembling so hard, they wereknocking together. I turned to the general. "I can't remember!"I cried. "Really. I'm telling you the truth,General Rameer! I really can'tremember!" General Rameer's smile didn't fade."That's no problem, Michael," he said softly."No problem at all." "Which-what do you mean?" I stammered. "Well ... the memory chip is in yourbrain, right?" He tightened his grip on myshoulder. "We'll just have our doctors cut openyour brain and remove the chip."

The guards ushered me back to my room. Theypractically had to carry me. My legs feltweak and wobbly and I could barely force themto move. I slumped into the room and they closed the doorbehind me. I heard a key turn the lock andknew I was a prisoner once again. "Aaaagh!" I uttered an angry cry andheaved a velvet throw pillow across the room. Itbounced off a silky window curtain and droppedto the carpet. I lifted a glass vase off the desk andraised it over my head. I felt like smashingeverything. I wanted to trash the room, breakeverything, destroy it all. I set the vase back down and started to pacethe room furiously. I felt angry andterrified at the same time. "What am I going to do?" I asked myself outloud. I can't let them cut open my brain. Ican't let them operate on me. I stopped suddenly, grabbing the back of the redcouch. I had a sudden flash. "Megan--are you here?" I called. "Are youback? Are you hiding in here?" Silence. "Megan?" No. Not here. I was suddenly afraid for her too. Theguards had dragged her away when they caught hertrying to help me. What had they done to her? She was General Rameer's daughter now. Hewouldn't harm her--would he? Several hard raps on the door made mejump. The door swung open and Lieutenant Henryswept in, his ponytail flying behind him.He wore the same outfit as on the plane--agreen-and-black camouflage jacket over baggykhakis. His dark eyes glanced around the room, thensettled on me. "Excellency," he said, bowinghis tanned head slightly. "Pardon theintrusion." I just stared at him. I didn't know howto reply. "General Rameer sent me to speak to you,"Lieutenant Henry said. "He wishes for thereto be no trouble." "Me too," I murmured. I droppedonto the arm of the couch with a sigh. "We only ask you to restore the pride of ournation," Lieutenant Henry continued, speakingemotionally, gesturing with both hands. "All of our people will rejoice when the mummy ofPukrah is restored to its place in thepalace, along with the sapphire." He paused, expecting me to say something. Butagain, I just stared back. "You will make so many people happy by revealing themummy's hiding place," Lieutenant Henrycontinued. "Why do you hesitate, Excellency?Why do you make things difficult for everyone?" I jumped to my feet. "I'm not tryingto make things difficult!" I cried. "I'mtelling the truth. I don't remember anythingabout Pukrah's mummy. I don't knowanything!" Lieutenant Henry nodded and made aclicking sound with his tongue and teeth. "Toobad," he said softly. He waved to the door. Two brown-uniformed guards stepped into theroom. "Take the boy to surgery," LieutenantHenry ordered.
I struggled to escape them. I twisted andsquirmed and kicked. But it was no use. They forced me to change into a paper surgicalrobe. A few minutes later, I was lying onmy back, strapped down to a metal stretcher. Four guards wheeled me into an operating roomin the basement of the palace. Blinding bright lightsflashed on overhead. Blinking, I stared up at two doctors and anurse, all in white surgical gowns,white masks over their mouths and noses. "The operation will be simple," one of the doctorsannounced. He grabbed my head in one hand, theway you'd pick up a melon from a groceryshelf. "We will cut like this," he said. He scraped hisfinger along the top of my head. "One longslice. Then we saw open the skull to get to thebrain." "Please hurry," I heard a familiarvoice say from somewhere behind me. GeneralRameer's voice, low and calm. "The wholenation is waiting for that memory chip." The other doctor raised a black rubbermask over my head. "First we will put youto sleep," he said, leaning over me. "When Iplace this over your mouth and nose, begin takingdeep breaths." He began to lower the mask. "No--wait!" I screamed. "Wait--please! I remember now! It all just cameback to me! Please--stop! I remembereverything!"

"Wait!" I heard General Rameer's cryfrom the back of the operating room. The doctors stepped aside, and the generalleaned over me. He stared hard at me, biting hisbottom lip, trying to decide if I was tellingthe truth. He scratched his white curly hair,studying my face. "Your memory came back to you, Michael?"he asked finally. "Yes!" I cried. "Everything. It--it was likesomeone turned a switch." General Rameer turned to the doctors."Unstrap him from the table. The guards will bring himto me in the map room." "Should he change into his clothes?" one of thedoctors asked. General Rameer frowned. "No. Leave himin the operating gown. Just in case ..."
A few minutes later, I stood in the littlebasement room surrounded by wall maps. General Rameer stepped to my side. Hiswalking stick clicked on the floor.He eyed me suspiciously. "I am so glad your memory returned,Michael," he said. "The operation would be painfulfor you. It would take you many months to recover." I took a deep breath. His words sent asharp pain shooting through my head. I imagined aknife cutting through my brain. "Yeah. I'm glad too," I murmured,avoiding his probing eyes. "It all just cameback to me--in a flash." "Very good, very good," he muttered. He guided me to the orange-and-yellow wallmap we had studied that morning. "Okay, here weare," he said, moving the tip of the stick across thestar that marked the Royal Palace. "Show me, Michael. Show me what youremember. Where will we find the sacred mummy andits hidden jewel?" I turned to the map. My eyes swept overthe desert and its dozens of rock cliffs andcaves. I couldn't focus. I was too frightened. Theywere all a blur to me. "Can you find the mummy's hiding place on thismap?" General Rameer urged. "Can you pointto the location, Michael?" I could hear theimpatience growing in his voice. "Well ..." I ran my hand over the middleof the map. A wave of panic swept over me. Myheart raced. I struggled to keep breathingnormally. But my throat was so tight, I madea wheezing sound with each breath. What am I going to do? I asked myself. I don't have a clue about the mummy's hidingplace. I don't know anything. But I can't let them cut into my brain. Ican't! I'll stall him, I decided. I'll picka cave that's really far away. And then ... Then ... Maybe I can escape before he finds out it'sa wild goose chase. Wild goose chase. That was one of mydad's expressions. He said that all the time. I pictured Mom and Dad back home inLong Island. Then I remembered that they may not be my momand dad. "Michael? I'm waiting." GeneralRameer's voice broke into my troubled thoughts. "Uh ... yeah." I pointed to a cave way down at the bottomof the map. "Pukrah's mummy is hidden in theback of this cave," I told him, trying to keepmy voice from trembling. The general narrowed his eyes at me. Studiedmy face for a long moment. I turned away and concentrated on the map.My chin started to tremble. I covered it with onehand. "The mummy is ... uh ... hidden behind awall of stones," I added. Very good, Michael, I congratulated myself. That's a nice detail. It makes it sound asif you really know what you are talking about. General Rameer leaned forward. He brought hisface inches from the map and squinted at the caveI had picked. After a few seconds, he straightened up."That cave is the hiding place? You are sure?" My whole body trembled. I hoped hecouldn't see it. I nodded. "Yes. That's the one." "Very good." A smile crossed GeneralRameer's face. He placed a hand on myshoulder. "We will leave first thing in the morning. Youwill lead the way."
I couldn't get to sleep that night. I was lyingin bed, staring up at the ceiling. A thousandhorrifying thoughts raced through my mind. Moonlight from the window fell on the tallgrandfather's clock against the wall. The clock read2:00 A.m. I heard a stirring sound. Soft thuds. And a hand tightened over my mouth. Kicking, thrashing, I struggled to sit up. The bed table light flashed on. And I staredup at Megan. She raised a finger to her lips. And slowlytook her hand from over my mouth. "Ssshhh." "You scared me to death!" I wheezed. "How--how did you get in?" Her green eyes flashed in the yellow light.She tossed her bangs away from her eyes."Don't make a sound, Michael," she warned."There are four guards outside your door tonight.And they are all awake and alert." I sat up against the headboard and straightenedmy pajama shirt. "What did they do to you?" Iwhispered. "I mean, after they caught you in here withme?" "They didn't do anything," she replied."I'm the general's adopted daughter--remember?" I nodded. She dropped down beside me on the edge of the bed.She was dressed entirely in black--blacktank top, black skirt over black tights. "I came to warn you," she whispered. "Did youtell the general the true hiding place? Ihope so." I stared at her. I didn't know what to say.Should I tell her the truth? She didn't wait for me to reply. "Ihope you told the truth, Michael. These men aredesperate--and very cruel. If you lied to them..." Her voice trailed off. A noise at the window made us both gasp. Another large insect bumping the glass. Megan's eyes locked on mine. "Did theytell you about the curse, Michael?" "Huh? Curse?" I choked out. "General Rameer and his men are sosuperstitious," Megan whispered. "Theywere probably too superstitious to tell you about thecurse." "Tell me," I insisted. "The mummy of Pukrah belongs to the people ofJezekiah," she explained. "It is said that ifPukrah falls into the wrong hands ... if hismummy falls into evil hands ... Pukrah willwalk! Pukrah will walk the earth until theevil is destroyed." "Wow," I murmured. "The men are all superstitious, Michael,"she continued. "Sure, they want to own the jewelhidden inside the mummy. But mainly, they wantthe ancient mummy. They are so superstitious!They don't believe they can rule the kingdomunless they own the mummy. "It is totally important to them," Megancontinued. "So if you are trying to fool them ..." I let out a long sigh. Could I tell her thetruth? Could I tell her my horrible secret? No, I decided. No. I think I can trust her. But I don'twant to get her into trouble with her new father. I'dbetter not share my secret with her. "Everything's ... fine," I said. But myvoice cracked as I said it. She stared at me."Yes?" "Yes," I insisted. "The memory chip--itclicked in. Really. All of a sudden, Iremembered everything." She continued to stare at me, studying me. "I looked at that map, and it suddenly becameso familiar," I continued. "I knew the rightcave as soon as I saw it." A smile spread over her face. "Michael--that's great!" she cried. "Yeah. Right," I agreed. Did she believe me? Yes. I was sure thatshe did. "I was so worried about you!" she cried. "I--I didn't want anything to happen to you!" "No problem," I assured her. Her smile grew even wider. "I'll be comingalong tomorrow," she declared. "It'll be soexciting!" She moved quickly to the window. "See you in themorning," she whispered. And then she silently disappeared out the window,leaving the curtains fluttering. "Yeah, exciting, for sure," I muttered,rolling my eyes. "It's going to be realexciting." I knew that Megan was only trying to helpme. But her stories about how cruel anddesperate General Rameer's men were did nothelp calm me down. And I knew the story about Pukrah's cursewould give me nightmares for years to come--if Ilived that long! If I lived past tomorrow ... What will they do to me when we get to the cave and themummy isn't there? I wondered. What will they dowhen they learn I was lying? Kill me on the spot? Drag me back to the palace, remove thememory chip from my brain--and then kill me? Why wasn't the memory chip working? Because I'm the wrong boy? Because I'm not theson of the kingdom's rulers? Because a horriblemistake has been made? These questions repeated and repeated until Ifelt my brain about to explode! I lay trembling under the covers, staring up atthe ceiling, thinking ... thinking. I didn't sleep for a moment. I was still wideawake, questions rolling through my mind, when the guardscame in to awaken me. They handed me a green-and-black camouflagesuit. "Excellency, you are to get dressed," one ofthem instructed. "We leave at dawn." I stood up, stretching, and peered out the window.In the far distance, I saw a thin line of red, thesun beginning to rise at the horizon. I'm doomed, I realized. Doomed.

I gulped down a quick breakfast of toast andorange juice. Then the guards led meoutside. A red ball of a sun still hung low on thehorizon. It cast a rosy glow over the dozensand dozens of people scurrying around, over soldiers,palace guards, servants. An endless line of Jeeps and army trucksjammed the road outside the palace. I watchedarmed soldiers hoisting themselves into the backsof olive-colored troop vans. Servantsloaded piles of supplies into smallertrucks. Whistles blew. I saw LieutenantHenry in the middle of the road, shoutinginstructions. The guards led me through the crowd to the Jeep atthe head of the line. Megan stood at the side of theJeep, wearing a brown-and-green camouflagesuit and a brown beret tilted over her hair. She greeted me with a nod. "Good morning,Excellency," she said. Her eyes were on theguards at my sides. "No, it isn't," I whispered. I motionedbehind me. "I thought we were going on a mummyhunt," I said. "Why is General Rameerbringing along all these soldiers?" "For safety," Megan replied. Shepointed to the desert. "There are still many rebelsoldiers out there. They haven't given up. Thewar continues." "Oh, great," I groaned. "Something elseto worry about!" General Rameer appeared, wearing a brownarmy uniform, the jacket chest covered with sparklingmedals. He clapped me on the back. "Agreat day!" he declared happily. "A great dayfor the kingdom of Jezekiah! At last, ournational treasure will be back to where it belongs!" Megan and I exchanged glances. General Rameer motioned for us to climb into theJeep. Megan sat up front with the driver.The general and I sat together in the back. "How long does it take to get to the cave?"I asked him. He unfolded a map and stretched it across hislap. "We should be there by nightfall," hereplied. He turned to me with a smile. "It isa small kingdom, Michael. It only looksbig on this map. You can travel anywhere inJezekiah in one day." One day to live, I thought. I have one dayto live. The general was staring at me. I forced a smileto my face. I didn't want to let him seehow frightened I was. A van filled with soldiers pulled in frontof our Jeep. Two other vans moved to oursides. We were surrounded by armed men. Theirjob, I realized, was to protect the general--andme--from rebel attack. General Rameer stood up in the back of ourJeep and swept his walking stick forward, asignal to move out. A few seconds later,we began to move, slowly at first, then pickingup speed on the narrow paved road that led through thedesert. The sun was high in the sky now, and the air grewhot. The road ended after only a few miles,and the Jeep bounced over sand and rock. General Rameer studied his map, shoutingdirections to the driver. I gazed out at thedesert that surrounded us. White rock and yellow sand as far as I couldsee. I suddenly felt as if I were on anotherplanet. This must be what it's like to ride over thesurface of the moon, I thought. Ahead of us, swirls of wind sent sheets ofsand rolling over the ground like dry ocean waves.On all sides, tall white rock formationsrose up like small mountains. We passed a tiny, round pool of bluewater surrounded by low-leaning palm trees. Itlooked like a movie set. It didn't lookreal. Beyond the pool, a deep shadow fell over thesand. The shadow of a high rock cliff, darkcaves cut into the bottom. Ugly black-and-white desert birds, talland scrawny, perched on the rocks. They stoodperfectly still, staring down at us as we rumbledpast. The sunlight made the swirling sand sparkle likegold. Tall white granite cliffs gleamedahead of us. Strange, beautiful scenery. But of courseI couldn't enjoy any of it. I knew that every minute in the desert was bringingme closer to my doom. Every cave we passed, every rock formation, mademe shudder. There's no escape, I realized. There'snowhere out here to run. By tonight, General Rameer will know the truth. Themummy will still be hidden. Everyone will know that Ilied, that I led them all to the farthest cave because Ididn't know what else to do. We stopped for lunch at a flat areasurrounded by low rocks. I pulled Megan aside. I was desperateto talk to her. "Do you have any ideas?" I demanded. "Whatam I going to do?" She squinted at me as if she didn't knowwhat I was talking about. "I don't know how Ican help you, Excellency," she repliedloudly. "Huh? Megan?" I turned and saw my two guards behind me.Listening to every word. No way I could talk to Megan. I choked down a sandwich. I don't know howI swallowed it. My throat was dry as sand, mystomach knotted, rumbling. I gazed up at the scrawny black-and-whitebirds perched above us on the rocks. were theydesert vultures? Would they be feasting on me tonight? After a few minutes, the journey began again.General Rameer studied his map. He became moreand more excited as we bounced over the sand, ridingnearer and nearer to the cave at the bottom of themap. The longest afternoon of my life! I felt sick. Sweat rolled down myforehead, into my eyes. I didn't even brush itaway. I tried to think. Tried to come up with a plan. But my mind was as empty as the cave I hadpicked! Could I tell General Rameer that I madea mistake? Could I point to another cave onthe map--a cave clear on the other side of thedesert? It might give me an extra day to live,I thought. But, no. No way he would buy that story. He would know instantly that I was stalling. ThatI was a total phony and a liar. The sun was lowering itself behind tall rock cliffswhen we suddenly stopped. General Rameer folded up his map. Hetapped the knee of my camouflage pants with hiswalking stick. "That's it!" he cried, pointingexcitedly. "That's the cave!" I gazed up at the tall rock cliff. Itjutted straight up from the sand, glowing blue in theevening light. At its bottom, a darkcave opening, shaped almost like those mouse holes inthe cartoons. General Rameer jumped down from the Jeep.He motioned for me to join him. I climbed out slowly, breathing hard, myheart pounding. I brushed sand from my eyes. "The big moment!" General Rameer declared,gazing up at the cave opening. I can't do this, I thought. I can't go through with this. I'm going crazy. I can't take it foranother second! "General Rameer, I--I have to tell yousomething," I started. The words caught in mythroat. I coughed. Forced myself to continue. I had no choice. I had to tell him thetruth. "General Rameer, I was lying," Iconfessed. "I was stalling. I don't rememberanything. I don't know anything. I'm sorry--but I don't have a clue about where the mummyis." Somehow I got those words out. With a long sigh,I took a step back. And watched General Rameer's face turnred and his eyes bulge wide in fury.

"Please--" I started. "I didn'tmean--" It took me a few seconds to realize that thegeneral wasn't staring at me. And he hadn't heard a word I said. "Michael--get down!" he cried. Heshoved me to the ground beside the Jeep. I heard a loud CRAACK CRAACK. Firecrackers, I thought. Then I realized it was gunfire. A CRAACK very close--followed by the whooshof air escaping one of the Jeep tires. "Rebels!" I heard Lieutenant Henryshout. "They're up high--on the cliff! Can'ttell how many!" I raised my eyes to the cliff and sawblack-uniformed soldiers firing down at us.Behind me, General Rameer's soldiers camepiling out of vans, raising their weaponsinto position. "Get to that rock!" General Rameerordered me, pointing to a wide boulder rising upfrom the sand. "Go!" He pulled me to my feet andgave me a hard shove. I saw Megan duck down on the other sideof the Jeep. More gunfire. General Rameer's men beganfiring back. General Rameer tossed his stickaway, pulled an assault rifle from asupply van, turned, raised it onto hisshoulder, and fired it up at the high cliffs. The crack and whistle of bullets rang outover the sand, echoed off the tall rocks. Birds flew crazily overhead. The skydarkened as a heavy cloud rolled in. Soldiers ran toward the rocks, firing theirweapons up at the black-uniformed rebels. Shouts rang out over the rifle fire. I dove to the boulder and scrambled behind it onmy hands and knees. This is horrible! I told myself, gripping theside of the rock, pressing myself against it. A war.A real war--and I'm in the middle of it. I heard a scream of pain. Furious shouts. People are getting hurt, I realized. Maybekilled. I've got to get away. ... Get away? My heart skipped a beat. Yes! This is my chance, I decided. My chanceto escape from General Rameer, to escape fromJezekiah. I glanced behind me. Nothing but blue sand, thedesert darkening as night fell. Where will I go? I remembered seeing small towns on themap, small towns on the other side of theJezekiah border. If I can get away without being seen, I canhide in a cave or behind some rocks, Idecided. Then tomorrow morning I can head for the border and findone of those small towns. It was a crazy, desperate idea. But it just might save my life. I took one last peek over the boulder.General Rameer and his soldiers were running up theside of the rock cliff, weapons roaring. I looked for Megan, but I couldn't findher. "Bye, everyone," I murmured. I spun away from the boulder--and took offover the sand.

My shoes crunched over the hard packed sand.My shadow stretched in front of me as if leadingthe way. I had run about ten or twelve steps when theshooting stopped. My heavy footsteps suddenly sounded so loud! "Excellency--where are you going?" a voiceshouted. Gasping, panting hard, I spun around--andsaw Lieutenant Henry trotting after me. Hisponytail bounced behind him as he ran. Heheld his rifle with one hand and motioned to me with theother. "I--I--" I stammered, thinking hard, tryingto come up with a good explanation. "Do not be afraid, Excellency,"Lieutenant Henry said, stepping up to me. "Itis over. The rebels have fled." He jabbed his rifle toward the rock cliff."See? They are gone. They never fight for long.A few shots--then they run." I heard laughter from the rocks. I sawsoldiers tossing their hats in the air.Congratulating each other. Celebrating their quickvictory. The victory was too quick, I thoughtunhappily, as I followed LieutenantHenry back. With a little more time, I might have escaped. Two men had been wounded in the battle. Theylay moaning on their backs on the sand. Medicalofficers leaned over them, treating their wounds. I stopped walking. My whole body shuddered. I felt sick again. I took a deep breathand held it, trying not to puke. These men are willing to give their lives, Ithought. They are willing to die to get Pukrah'smummy back. And what have I done? Lied to them. Led them on a wild goosechase. And now I am doomed, I realized. Now theywill enter the cave and see that I tried to fool them. I turned toward the cave opening. Dark andwide, it looked like a giant mouth,ready to swallow me. "That was very foolish!" I heard GeneralRameer cry angrily. I turned and saw him, red-faced, scowling,scolding Megan. "I am sorry that you were caught in abattle," the general shouted. "But you have to besmarter than that!" I stepped up beside them. Megan frowned atme, then glanced away. "What's wrong?" I asked. General Rameer pointed at her disgustedly."She hid under the Jeep." "I just wanted to be safe!" Megan cried. "Under the Jeep is not safe! Not safe!" thegeneral fumed. "If a bullet hits the gastank, the Jeep explodes. I don't callthat safe." "So-sorry," Megan stammered, still avoidinghis gaze. "You were lucky, Megan," the general saidsoftly. Then, to my surprise, he pulled herclose and hugged her. "You were very lucky." He really cares about her, I realized. He would be so totally shocked if he knew thatshe tried to help me. Now, no one can help me, I thought sadly.No one. "Are we ... going into the cave now?" Iasked General Rameer. I tried to keep myvoice steady. I tried to sound calm. But myvoice came out shrill and high. The general let go of Megan and turned to me."No. We cannot enter the cave yet. We cannotview the sacred mummy until we purifyourselves." "Uh ... how long will that take?" I asked. General Rameer laughed. "You are eagerto see the mummy too, aren't you, Michael? Ofcourse you are. As our future ruler, you tooare eager to see the sacred mummy returned to theRoyal Palace." "Of course," I choked out. "But how long willit take to purify ourselves?" He slapped me on the back. "Hours!" hedeclared. "We must purify ourselves in the sand, thepure, clean sand of our ancestors. If weview the mummy in an unclean state, Pukrahwill take his revenge on us." Wow, I thought. These people really aresuperstitious. I was glad. It meant I wasn't going to befound out immediately. I had one more night. The soldiers began to chant. The purifyingritual had begun. They chanted and sang in a language Ididn't recognize. Then they stepped away fromthe rocks, out onto the flat sand. General Rameer motioned for Megan and meto follow. We had to be purified too. The sun had set. The air had grown cool.Megan and I copied what the soldiers did. We all pulled off our shoes and slowlywalked barefoot across the sand. The sand was still hotfrom the sun, hotter than the night air. The chanting voices rose. The sound floatedover the desert. And as the soldiers chanted, they began to burythemselves in the sand. Megan and I followed their lead. Wescraped the sand around us, scraped it away with bothhands. We dug holes around ourselves. It took along time. And all the while, General Rameer and hissoldiers and servants sang and chanted. They stopped when we were buried up to ournecks. I turned and stared at the weird sight.Dozens of heads poking up from the sand in the nightdarkness. "I don't feel too purified," Meganwhispered. "Mainly, I feel itchy." "The sand is so warm," I whispered back."I think it feels good." Lieutenant Henry scowled at us. Weturned away from each other and remained silent. I stared up at the mouth of the cave. I shudderedagain. The ceremony ended. Men went to work setting upcanvas tents. General Rameer motioned me into a tent besidehis. "Get some sleep, Michael," heinstructed. "Tomorrow will be a proud and exciting day." I don't think so, I thought unhappily. Proud? Definitely not. Exciting? Well ... I found a sleeping bag waiting for me insidethe tent. I set my shoes down andcrawled into it. I didn't bother to getundressed. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. Again. I stared up at the canvas tent walls,trying not to think about the next morning. Trying notto think about anything. Listening to the heavy silence of thedesert at night. No wind. No animal sounds. No cars. Real silence. Can I sneak away? I wondered. Can Iescape into the darkness? I crawled out of the sleeping bag. I grabbedup my shoes. On my knees, I pushed open the tent flap--and peered outside. A line of small campfires sent aflickering orange light over the tents. And in thedarting light, I saw soldiers. Guards standingin a circle around the entire camp. Riflesready. No. No escape. I ducked back into the tent. And waited for morning. The sun was still a red haze low over the desertsand when I heard the call. "Excellency--timeto wake. Pukrah awaits!"

My hands trembled as I struggled to tie myshoes. I felt shaky and weak. I had troublefocusing my eyes. My back itched. I was already sweating, even inthe cool morning air. But these were small problems, I knew. These wereno big deal. My big problem could be described in twowords--no mummy. "There you are!" General Rameer greeted mecheerfully as I stumbled out of the tent. The morning sun cast a rosy color over thesand and sky. I squinted into the shimmering haze.I couldn't see where the sand ended and the sky began. I took a deep breath. It could be one of my last, I thought. I turned to the rock cliff. The whiterocks also reflected the rosy glow of the sun.Cut jaggedly into the rock, the dark cave mouthloomed ahead of me. A wave of panic forced me to step back. I can't go in there, I realized. I just can't doit. I felt General Rameer's hand on myshoulder. "This way," he said softly. "The menare all waiting, Michael. You and I must gofirst. We must lead them to Pukrah." I tried to choke out a reply, but no soundcame out. The general kept his hand on my shoulder andguided me forward. I glanced back and saw the men lined up, twoby two. The line stretched along the Jeeps andtrucks and beyond, into the red sand. The fires had all burned out. But the guardsremained in a circle around the camp, rifleson their shoulders. Lieutenant Henry lined up behind GeneralRameer and me. He smiled and flashed me athumbs-up. He won't be smiling in a few minutes, Ithought glumly. No one will. General Rameer took such long, faststrides, I nearly had to jog to keep up. Ina few minutes, the tall sheet of rock loomedover us. We stepped up to the dark mouth of the cave atits bottom. The air from inside the cave brushed against me,cool and damp. My skin tingled. Even though theclimb to the cave mouth wasn't at all steep,I was panting as if I had climbed a mountain. "Wait here," General Rameer whispered.He turned and waited for the men to gather behind us.Then he closed his eyes, bowed his head, and said awhispered prayer. When it was finished, he opened his eyes and rubbedhis hand on the stone of the cave edge. "Rub your handthere, Michael," he instructed. "All of us musttouch the luck of the cave." I obeyed his instruction. I rubbed my hand onthe damp stone. "Now we are ready to greet Pukrah!"General Rameer announced. We stepped side by side into the cave opening.Darkness swept around me. A damp chill mademe shiver. Flashlights and halogen torches clicked onas the others entered behind us. Beams of lightflashed and flickered over the cave floor and upthe stone walls. The cave was deeper than I imagined. Andtaller. I couldn't see the ceiling in the darkness. "Your parents chose a good spot to hide thesacred mummy and its jewel," General Rameersaid, keeping close beside me. Even though hespoke softly, his words echoed against the high cavewalls. "There is the stone wall!" I heardLieutenant Henry declare. "Huh?" I gasped. Excited cries rang out all around me. Menswung their lights straight ahead. I squinted into the light. And saw stones piledon top of each other. A wall of stones,maybe eight or nine feet tall, stretchingnearly the width of the cave. "Just as His Excellency described!"General Rameer cried happily. "Yes,Michael. This must be the wall that hides themummy. Pukrah waits for us behind those stones." Whooooa, I thought. I made up the stonewall. But there's a wall standing right there! Lucky. But how much longer can my luck holdout? A hush fell over the cave. It was nearlysilent now, except for shoes scraping on thedusty cave floor. And somewhere near the back of thecave, the soft trickle of water. The lights beamed onto the stone wall. Brightas day. I could see every stone. "We can squeeze past the wall one at atime," a soldier called. "Too slow. Tear down the wall!" GeneralRameer ordered. The men moved forward. They began tearing awaythe stones. Pulling them off the wall and rolling themto the side. I stood frozen beside General Rameer.Squinting into the beams of light. My legs trembled. My throat tighteneduntil I had to force myself to breathe. A breath ... then another ... then another. I knew that each breath brought me closer to mydoom. The walls echoed with the CLACK and THUD ofrocks tossed to the cave floor. The men workedsilently, their faces somber. The general stood beside me, handspressed to the waist of his camouflage suit. Aneager smile spread over his face as he watchedthe wall come down. He didn't move. He didn't blink. Neither did I. And then a man's shrill cry made us bothjump. Stones tumbled in a noisy avalanche. A large section of the wall suddenly fell. The men rushed forward. Now they will know the truth, I realized. Now they will know that I lied, that I led them herefor no reason. I shut my eyes and prepared to meet myfate.

Eyes shut, I heard startled cries. Loudgasps. "It is Pukrah!" someone shouted. More cries rang out and echoed all around. I opened my eyes. Yes! My mouth dropped open in shock. Yes! Yes! The ancient mummy stood there behind the fallenwall. Stood upright. Revealed in the dancing beams of yellow light.Its gray gauze ragged and torn. The heavilybandaged head slightly tilted. Yes! It stood behind the fallen stones. Stood with itsslender, wrapped arms crossed over its chest. "Pukrah! Pukrah!" The men's chant rose up around the cave. General Rameer beamed, his eyes flashing. Isaw the glow of tears rolling down his cheeks. Tears of joy. "Pukrah! Pukrah!" the gleeful chantswelled. The lights danced over the small, frailfigure. I let out a long, relieved sigh. I knew this had to be the luckiest day of mylife. Somehow I had picked the right cave. SomehowI had pointed my finger blindly at some marks ona map--and I had found the mummy. I suddenly felt so light, as if anenormous weight had been removed from myshoulders. I felt as if I could spread myarms and fly, fly to the roof of the cave! I wanted to leap. I wanted to shout. Iwanted to scream for joy. But then, suddenly, the chanting stopped. The mengrew silent. I turned--and gasped. I watched the mummy's frail, crossed armsunfold. The bandaged arms slowly slid downto its sides. The small head tilted. And then cries of horror rang out all aroundme as the mummy took a lurching step forward. And then another. "The mummy walks!" General Rameercried. "The mummy walks!"

The mummy stuck out its arms stiffly and staggeredforward. It scraped its gauzed feet over thecave floor, sending up clouds of dust. Its head tilted from side to side as it lurchedblindly forward. SCRAPE ... SCRAPE ... All around me, startled cries turnedto moans of horror. "The curse!" a man yelled. "The curse ofPukrah!" "Pukrah walks!" General Rameer chokedout. He began backing up, his face twisted inshock. The lights darted over the mummy as it leanedforward, staggering stiffly, arms outstretched. And thenthe circles of light swung away--and sweptover the cave walls as General Rameer's menturned away. A rush of light toward the cave entrance. Moaning in terror, whispering their shock, the menfollowed the light. They stampeded over therock-strewn floor, kicking up thickcurtains of dust. The darting lights swirled in the rising dust.Strange shadows slid toward the cave opening besidethe fleeing men. It reminded me of an old black-and-whitemovie, all out of focus, running at the wrongspeed. I stood as if hypnotized, watching.Watching ... I watched General Rameer duck hishead as he shot out of the cave entrance, into anorange shaft of morning sunlight. I watchedhis men follow, running in panic, squeezing throughthe entrance, out of the cave, and still running. I've got to run too, I suddenlyrealized. The strange scene had frozen me in place.The cold horror had paralyzed me. But now I knew I had to follow the others.I turned to run--too late. Too late! The mummy--Pukrah's mummy--was onme. The ancient arms rose up in my face. The mummy grabbed me! Grabbed me by the throat with its ancient, dustyhands. So strong ... so inhumanly strong ... It wrapped its hands around my throat and startedto squeeze.

"Nooooo--" I choked out. The mummy loosened its grip. The gauzed hands slid away. Pukrah tilted back his head. And from beneath theheavy covering, I heard laughter. I staggered back, rubbing my throat. Myheart thudded in my chest. I struggled to see throughthe billowing curtain of dust. "Pukrah--" I murmured. The mummy raised its hands to its face andbegan clawing at the bandages. I stared in shock as it pulled bandagesloose. "Michael--help me!" it cried, its voicemuffled behind the gauze. Its hands pulledhelplessly at the bandages. "Michael--get this stuff off!" "Huh?" I swallowed hard and stared indisbelief. "Megan?" "Of course. Megan," she replied. "Whoelse? Get this off! I can't breathe!" I took a deep breath and stepped forwardto help her. I shoved her hands away and begantearing bandages from her face. "Megan--good job!" I exclaimed. "Buthow--?" "It took all morning," shegroaned. I unwrapped several layers, and her faceappeared, damp from sweat. "Didn't you noticeI wasn't around this morning?" she asked. "Well ... I looked for you," I replied."But--" I unwrapped her hands. Then we both begantugging the gauze off the rest of her. "Megan--you scared me to death!" I cried."Why didn't you tell me what you were doing?" "How could I?" she replied. "The general hadyou watched night and day. I couldn't get nearyou." She stepped out from the pile of bandages. Shehad wrapped the stuff around her clothes, around herboots. "But--why?" I choked out. "I was worried about you, Michael," shereplied, pulling gauze from her hair. "In yourtent last night, you were sweating. You seemed sototally stressed. I thought maybe you were lyingto me." "Maybe ..." I muttered, embarrassed. "So I checked out the cave last night,"Megan continued. "And guess what? Nomummy. So I knew I had to think fast. Ihad to think of a way to save your life--until youcan find the real hiding place." Her eyes locked on mine. "You do know thehiding place, don't you?" I didn't have a chance to answer. We both screamed as we saw the soldiersburst into the cave, rifles raised. About a dozen black-uniformed soldiers. Rebel soldiers. "It's the boy!" one of them cried. "The boy and Rameer's daughter!" anotherrebel exclaimed. They blocked the cave entrance. "Don't move," one of them said, moving towardus, his dark eyes darting from Megan to me, hisrifle in front of his chest. "You will come with us." "You--you're going to rescue us?" I cried. He snickered. His eyes remained icycold. "Not quite."

Rebel vans and Jeeps had pulled up to therock cliff. Megan and I were forcedinto the back of a black van. The windows had beenpainted over. We couldn't see out. A grim-faced rebel soldier, lean andbearded, a black beret tilted over his forehead,kept a pistol on us from the seat in front. The van bounced over the desert. We roaredover the sand, tires spinning loudly. Megan and I huddled unhappily in theback, our hands clasped tightly in our laps."What are they going to do to us?" I whispered. Megan shrugged. "They could do anything," shewhispered back. Her chin trembled. "They are moreevil than the general and his men. Much more evil anddesperate." That news didn't cheer me up. After about an hour, the van squealed to a stop.The bearded soldier jumped out quickly and pulledopen the back door. He motioned with his pistol forMegan and me to climb out. We stepped out into blinding sunlight. Tworows of black canvas tents stretched in aflat, sandy clearing in front of us, hiddenby tall rock cliffs. A tall, powerful-looking man strode out of thefirst tent. He had long, curly black hair,black eyes under heavy black eyebrows, ascowl on his tanned face. He wore baggyblack trousers and an oversized black shirt,unbuttoned, revealing a broad, tanned chest. "Here they are, General Mohamm. The twoprisoners," the soldier said, motioning to Meganand me with his pistol. The general eyed us both without smiling. "Are youGeneral Rameer's adopted daughter?" heasked Megan. She nodded. "That makes us cousins," he said, a tinysmile creasing his face. "General Rameer ismy cousin." "He says you are a traitor," Megansneered. The general's eyes flared angrily. Heturned to me. "And you are the one they hid inAmerica?" "I--I guess," I stammered. I concentrated on keeping my knees fromshaking. General Mohamm took a step closer. Hisexpression turned menacing. "You are the son of theformer leaders? You are the one with the secretof Pukrah's mummy hidden in your brain?" "I don't know!" I cried. "My name isMichael Clarke. I grew up in LongIsland, New York. I don't knowanything--" General Mohamm rubbed the black stubble onhis chin. "General Rameer cannot rule without themummy," he said thoughtfully. "If I find themummy before he does, he will have to pay attentionto me." "But I don't know anything!" I protested. "We are wasting time," the general said, scowling.He motioned to two black-uniformed soldiers whostood at the side of his tent. They camehurrying over. "Take the boy to the operating tent," GeneralMohamm ordered. "Let's find this computerchip. Now."

I took off. I couldn't let them slice open my head. I dove past General Mohamm. He uttered a cry. Grabbed for me.Missed. I cut sharply. My legs nearly fell outfrom under me as I slid around the side of his tent.Shooting out both arms to catch my balance, Iflew past a long row of tents. "Go, Michael! Go, Michael!" I could hear Megan cheering me on. I reached the last tent in the row. Spunback. Then turned toward the desert. Where to run? Where could I go? My eyes swept in one direction, then theother. I knew I couldn't outrun them. And Icouldn't see any place to hide in the flat sandsof the clearing. Don't stop to think, Michael! I scoldedmyself. Just run! I spun away from the rebel camp and tookoff over the sand. My shoes sank in the soft sand. I keptslipping. I felt as if I weighed a thousandpounds. But I forced myself to run. I didn't get far. Several black-uniformed soldiers caught upto me easily. They surrounded me, rifles raised. Theirfaces were blank. Their eyes cold. Theydidn't say a word. I struggled to catch my breath as they hustledme back to General Mohamm at the front of thecamp. He shook his head and frowned at me. His darkeyes gazed at me, almost sadly. "There isnowhere to run, Michael," he said softly. Megan stood between two soldiers. "At leastyou tried!" she called to me. "Take him," the general ordered his men."Watch him closely. He may be foolish enoughto try again." The soldiers grabbed my arms, but I pulledfree. "Please!" I cried. The general had already started back to his tent.He turned at the sound of my cry. "Please don't cut open my head!" Ibegged. For some reason, that made him chuckle. He shook his head, smiling as if I'd saidsomething funny. "Please--" I repeated. The soldiers grabbed me again. They pulled meroughly, nearly lifting me off the ground. "Let him go!" I heard Megan cryangrily. "Hey--let him go!" But of course the soldiers ignored her. And dragged me into the surgery tent. White-gowned doctors were waiting there. The soldiers forced me onto my back on ahigh metal table. The doctors strapped down my hands and feet.They covered me with a heavy blanket. Then they raised a large metal machine overme and prepared to operate.

"No!" I cried. I struggled to free myself, twisting my legs,straining my arms against the straps. No. I couldn't budge them. The doctors lowered a section of the machine andswung it around to point at my head. "Please--" I cried. "Don't cut myhead open. Don't open my brain--" A young doctor with wavy black hair pokingout of his clear plastic surgical cap leanedover me. His dark eyes locked on mine."We're not going to cut you," he said. I swallowed. "Huh? You're not?" He shook his head. "We're not going to cutyou. We're going to X-ray you." "Ohhhhhh." A long sigh of relief escaped my mouth. "You can relax," the doctor said, patting mychest. "It isn't going to hurt. You are verylucky. We stole this X-ray machine from ahospital across the border." I shut my eyes. I was so happy. They don't have to open my brain. They just haveto photograph it. But then what? I suddenly wondered, my eyesshooting open, my heart beginning to race again. What will they do when they see there is nomemory chip? Or what if they find a memory chip? What will they do then? Go in and get it? The equipment buzzed and hummed. At least theytold the truth about one thing--it was painless. "We should steal a CAT'-SCAN machine,"I heard a doctor murmur. "How are we going to power one of those out in thedesert?" another doctor replied. More buzzing and humming. And then the machine was lifted and swung away. "Wait here," a doctor told me. Did I have a choice? The doctors disappeared. The tent stoodempty. I lay there, listening to voices outsidethe tent. A fly landed on my cheek. I couldn't swatit off. I shook my head hard. The fly walkedup my cheek to my forehead. I could feel its sticky legs move on myhot skin. It made my whole body tingle anditch. Sweat rolled down into my eyes. I shook my head again. Finally, the fly dartedaway. After a few minutes, I heard footstepsapproaching. Voices. I expected to see thedoctors. But two soldiers leaned over me. "You're finished here," one of them said. Hestarted to unclasp my hands and feet. "The general wants to see you," the othersoldier said. Rubbing my sore wrists, I followed them outinto the bright afternoon sunlight. My stomach growled.I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day. As we made our way along the row of tents,I searched for Megan. But she was nowhere insight. The soldiers led me up to General Mohamm.He stood in front of his tent talking to asmall group of men. He turned away from themwhen he saw me. As he came striding overto me, his dark eyes locked on mine. "Michael," he said. "The X rays were veryinteresting." "Interesting?" I choked out. He nodded. "There's no memory chip insideyour brain," he said, frowning. "You're not the rightboy!" "I knew it!" I blurted out. "I knewit!" "You're not the prince," General Mohammsneered. "You are an imposter. We have no usefor you." "Yes!" I cried happily. "Yes! Whatdoes that mean? Does that mean that I can go homenow?" He ignored me. His frown grew deeper.The light seemed to fade from his eyes. He turned to the two soldiers who hadremained close at my sides. "You two," he said softly, "take Michaelout to the desert and kill him."

"No way!" I cried. Once again I tried to run. And once again I was easily caught by thegeneral's black-uniformed soldiers. "Take him," General Mohamm repeated.He motioned with his head toward the desert. "Hehas wasted our time." The soldiers started to drag me away. But another soldier--an enormous man--came bouncing up to the general. Big and broad,built like a buffalo, he had long, curlyblack hair flying around his face and a blackeye patch over one eye. "Wait!" he cried breathlessly,holding up two huge hands. "What is the problem, Raoul?" the generalasked sharply. The two soldiers continued to grip my armstightly. But they stopped to hear what Raoul wassaying. "Is the boy an American citizen?" heasked General Mohamm. The general rubbed his stubbled chin. "I don'tknow. Why does it matter?" "We don't want trouble with the U.s.," thebig man said, breathing hard from his run. The general narrowed his dark eyes thoughtfully. "When we defeat Rameer and take over thekingdom, we want the U.s. to be our friend,"Raoul said. "So let the boy go. Do not killhim." Yesssss! I thought. Listen to him,General. Please--listen to him! "No," General Mohamm said, shaking hishead. "I cannot let him go. He has seen ourcamp. He will tell Rameer where we arehiding." "But the U.s. government--" Raoul started. "They will never know." The general cut him off."And if they find out the boy died, we will tellthem it was not us. That General Rameer had himkilled." Raoul stared at the general for a long moment, stillbreathing hard. Finally, he shrugged his hugeshoulders and tossed up his hands. "Fine,General. Have it your way. The boy must die." "No--wait!" I cried. "There's noreason to kill me! I--I can't give awayyour hiding place. I don't have any idea wherewe are!" The soldiers began to drag me away. "How are you going to kill him?" I heardRaoul ask. "You cannot shoot him, General. Ourbullets can be traced to us. We don't wantanyone to know that--" "Take him to the python pit," the generalcommanded the soldiers. "The pythons have not been fedin a while. The boy will make a good meal."

I dug my heels into the sand. I thrashed myarms and tried to pull free. But the soldiers were too strong. Theypulled me easily, past the rows of canvastents, out over the flat yellow sand. Python pit? Python pit? The words repeated in my mind. Each time theyrepeated, my throat felt tighter, my legsfelt heavier, my heart pounded faster. Python pit? They don't really have a snake pit dug into thesand--do they? I wondered. They're not really going to feed me to pythons--are they? I stared out at the desert. The afternoon sun madethe sand sparkle like gold, so bright I hadto squint. The only sound was our breathing and the WHUSHWHUSH of our shoes sinking into the sand as wewalked. I glanced back and saw that General Mohammand Raoul were following us. Their faces were grim.They stared straight ahead, avoiding my eyes. Up ahead in the shimmering distance, I saw ablack pennant waving on a tall stick. Aswe came closer, I saw a dark opening, awide circle in the sand beside the pennant. A pit. Cut deep in the sand. We stopped at its edge. I tried to squirmaway. But the silent soldiers gripped metightly. I tried to swallow but my throat ached fromdryness. I peered down into the pit. And saw the pythons down below, crawling overeach other, curling, twisting around each other. "Ohhhh." A horrified moan escaped mylips. They were so big! Could they be real? were therereally pythons as fat as fire hoses? The snakes were tan and gray. They raised theirheads from the bottom of the pit as if trying to reachme. Twisting and curling, they peered up at me withwet black eyes. Hungry eyes. Their mouths opened eagerly, wide mouths withlong black darting tongues. They can swallow me, I realized, tremblinghard now, trembling so hard, I leaned against thesoldiers to keep from tumbling down into the pit. They can swallow me whole. The python heads stretched up. Banged andbumped against each other. Stretched ...stretched eagerly ... "They are fighting for position," one of thesoldiers said. "The pythons are hungry today," GeneralMohamm said softly from just behind me. "I have never seen them so eager," Raoulagreed. The soldiers dragged me closer to the edge of thepit. The toes of my shoes hung over theside. General Mohamm moved to my side. Hestared at me coldly. "Michael, do you haveanything you want to tell me now? Anything youwant to say that might save your life?" "Please--" I struggled to choke out more words,but they wouldn't come. "Please--" "Do you have anything to say?" the general repeated. "No. I--I--" I sputtered. The pythons stretched their heads up, tiltedthem back, opened their gaping mouths. "Wait! Stop!" I heard a familiar voice from behind us. "Wait!" I turned my head and saw Megan runningfull-speed, waving her arms frantically. "Wait!" she cried. "I have an idea!"

I stared out the plane window at the desert farbelow. The plane turned slowly into the sunlight. I shielded my eyes from the bright light. WhenI could look down again, I saw the sparklingblue ocean come into view. I gripped the seat arms tightly, as if Ididn't believe they were real. Was I really in an airplane heading home? I turned to Megan in the seat beside me."You're a genius!" I declared, shouting over theroar of the jet engines. She smiled. "I know," she replied. "Another two seconds, and I'd be pythonmeat," I said, shaking my head. "No. That's not true," Megan said, hersmile fading. She leaned close to talk, eventhough we were the only two passengers on theplane. "They never planned to drop you into that pit," sheinsisted. "They are cruel men. But they aren'ttotally evil." "I couldn't come much closer!" I cried."My feet were over the edge. The pythons'tongues were lapping at my shoes!" I shuddered. I could still picture those shiny,wet eyes, those gaping mouths. "They use that pit to frighten people," Meganreplied. "They don't feed people to the snakes." "Then why--?" I started. "They wanted to give you one more chance to tell themwhere the mummy is hidden," Megan explained."They knew you didn't have the memory chip. Butthey thought you might know anyway. They were making onelast try to scare the information out of you." I nodded. "I get it." I settled into the seat and stared back out thewindow. Nothing but blue-green ocean down there.I really was heading home! I shut my eyes and remembered Megan'sspeech to General Mohamm. "Send Michael back to the UnitedStates," she told him. "And if you reallywant to defeat my father, send me to the UnitedStates with Michael." "How will that defeat your father?" GeneralMohamm sneered. "Sending me away will make my father furious andout of his head with worry," Megan replied."He will think I have been kidnapped. It willbreak his heart and his spirit. He will drop everything.He will even forget about this war--in order to trackme down." General Mohamm thought about it a long while.And then, finally, he ordered: "Send them bothaway." I gripped the arms of the airplane seat andturned to Megan. "Your idea was totallybrilliant!" I told her. "Well ... it worked." She grinned at me."He actually believed that General Rameer andI are close!" She laughed. I laughed too. Here we were, on a big passenger jet,flying away from Jezekiah and all its dangers.Heading to JFK Airport near my home inLong Island. "What do you plan to do when we reach NewYork?" I asked. Her smile faded. She shrugged. "I--Idon't really know." "Well, you can come home with me," Itold her. "Mom and Dad--" I stopped. were they my mom and dad? Would they come pick me up at the airport? Would they be glad to see me? Could I go backto my old life?
All these frightening questions swept through my mind. Questions without answers. I sank down in the seat, shut my eyes, andtried not to think.
The plane landed that night. As we cruisedslowly to the gate, I felt so nervous I thoughtI'd jump out of my skin. Megan and I ran through the terminal. I dodged a baggage cart. Nearly tumbledinto a group of teenagers. Stumbled up to a payphone. I glimpsed Megan behind me. "Good luck,"she said. She raised both hands. She had herfingers crossed. I dropped a quarter into the slot and dialedmy number. My hand was shaking so hard, I could barelyhold onto the phone. One ring. Two ... Mom answered after the third ring. "It's me!" I cried. "I'm here!" "Who?" Mom replied. "Who is this?"

My heart sank. "It's me--Michael!" I shouted over thenoise of the airport, pressing the receiver tightlyto my ear. "Michael? You're back?" she cried. "Idon't believe it! I never expected--Imean, I'm so happy!" I let out a long sigh of relief. Iturned and flashed Megan a thumbs-up. She grinned back at me. "Where are you?" Mom cried. "At JFK?Your dad and I will be right there!"
As soon as I arrived home, I wentrunning around the house like a madman. I totallyfreaked out! I wanted to kiss the floor. Mom kept hugging me every two seconds.Dad kept wiping tears from his eyes. They welcomed Megan warmly. We allsat down in the living room, and I tried to tellthem everything that happened to me. Mom and Dad listened quietly as Italked. When I told them the scary parts, theyshook their heads and groaned. "Do you believe any of this?" I asked,finishing my long story. "And it turned out I wasthe wrong kid. They had the wrong kid allalong!" Mom and Dad exchanged a long glance. Mom leaned across the couch toward me. "But,Michael," she said softly, putting a hand onmy arm. "You are the right kid. You are theprince of Jezekiah!"

I gasped. "No way!" I choked out. They both nodded solemnly. Megan stared across the room at me, claspingand unclasping her hands tensely in her lap. "Yes," Mom and Dad replied in unison. "We are not your real parents, Michael,"Dad said, speaking slowly and just above a whisper."Your real parents were the leaders of the kingdom." "The story General Rameer told you istrue," Mom revealed. "All of it. When warbroke out in Jezekiah, we brought you hereto Long Island to keep you safe." "But that's impossible!" I protested. Ijumped to my feet. "That can't be true! TheyX-rayed me for the memory chip. It isn'tthere. I don't have any memory chip planted inmy brain!" "We know," Dad replied, still speakingsoftly, calmly. He motioned for me to sitdown. But I stood over him, trembling. "We had the memory chip removed when you were ababy," Mom told me. "We knew it couldruin your life." "But--but--" I sputtered. "You sent meaway last week! You sent me to Jezekiah!" "We had no choice," Dad said. "We hadto send you when General Rameer called for you." "But we prayed you would be sent home when it wasdiscovered you didn't have the chip," Mom added.She sighed happily. "And you were!" She mopped at her eyes with atissue. "It worked. They sent you home, safeand sound." Dad stood up and hugged me. Then he tookmy arm and started to lead me out of the living room.He motioned for Mom and Megan to follow. "Dad--what's up?" I demanded. "Where arewe going?" "I know you've had many surprises,Michael," he replied, his expressionsolemn. "But I have one more for you."

Dad clicked on the light to the basement. Thefour of us trooped down the creaking woodenstairs. A tall antique wardrobe stood against theback wall. It had been there since I was tiny. "Help me with this," Dad asked. The two of us pushed hard and slid the heavywardrobe to the side. I stepped back, wipingmy hands on my jeans--and saw a narrow woodendoor cut into the basement wall. "Huh?" Dad unbolted the hidden door and pulled itopen. He clicked on another light. We peeredinside a tiny square closet. Megan and I both cried out when we saw thedark wood mummy case tilted up against the stonewall. With a groan, Dad lifted the heavy lid. And we stared at Pukrah. Stared at the ancient mummy that two armieshad fought over for twelve years. "It--it's here!" I finally choked out. Mom nodded. "The best hiding place we couldthink of," she said. "We smuggled it out with us whenwe took you to live in America. We've keptthe mummy and the sapphire safe and sound all theseyears." "Wow," Megan murmured, stepping up to thecase, staring wide-eyed at the ancient, gauzedfigure. "Wow."
I was so totally wired. I thought I would neverget to sleep that night. But I was so happy to be back in my own bed,I fell asleep as soon as my head sankinto the pillow. I slept a deep,dreamless sleep. When I awoke, bright sunlight was alreadystreaming in through my bedroom window. "I'm home!" I cried joyfully, sittingup and stretching. "I'm home to stay!" I got dressed quickly. And hurried down thehall to the room my parents had given Megan."Hey--Megan!" I called in. "Megan?" No answer. I knocked on the door. "Are you up?" No answer. Did she wake up early and go downto breakfast? How late was it? I pushed open her door and peeked inside.The bed was made. I didn't see any of herclothes. "Huh?" I spotted a white envelopetaped to the dresser mirror. A note? Yes. I crossed the room, tore theenvelope off the mirror, and pulled out a shortnote. My eyes bulged in disbelief as Iread the neatly handwritten words:
Michael, I hope you will not think that I'm a badperson. I enjoyed our adventures together. AndI enjoyed getting to know you. I'm afraid I told you one little lie. You see, my new father, General Rameer, andI really are very close. We love each other.And I would do anything to help him. I have to confess: I didn't sneak into yourroom at the palace. He sent me to spy onyou. This is why I was allowed to travel everywhere youwent. When I pretended to be Pukrah's mummy inthe cave, I did it to make you trust me. Weknew you were the right boy. I thought if you trustedme, you'd tell me the truth. We would tryanything to find out where Pukrah was hidden. And so I've been working for my father the wholetime. I'm so sorry I had to lie. You're a greatguy. I hope you will understand. Your friend, Megan
I read the note three times, my headspinning. Then, clenching it tightly in my fist,I went running down the stairs. "Mom! Dad! You'd better check this out!" I found them both in the kitchen. They bothlooked up from the table. "Michael? What'swrong?" "Have you seen Megan this morning?" I askedbreathlessly. "No. I thought she was still asleep." "You'd better read this!" I cried. "I foundit in her room." I shoved the note in front ofthem. They read it quickly, their eyes wide, mouthsdropping open. "Uh-oh," Dad murmured. That's all he said. Then he jumped up andran to the basement stairs. Mom and I were close behind him. We flewdown the stairs. Dad didn't have to turn on the light. Wecould see that the door to the hidden basement room waswide open. The mummy case was open too. The case stood empty. Empty except for another note on thebottom. I grabbed up the note. I recognizedMegan's handwriting. "What does it say?" Dad asked in awhisper. I read it out loud: "THE MUMMY WALKS AGAIN."







About R.l. Stine
R.l. Stine is the most popular author inAmerica. He is the creator of theGoosebumps, Give YourselfGoosebumps, Fear Street, and Ghostsof Fear Street series, among other popularbooks. He has written over 250 scarynovels for kids. Bob lives in New YorkCity with his wife, Jane, teenage son,Matt, and dog, Nadine.
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