Tombquest: Book of the Dead

Epilogue

"I nearly lost the leg," said Todtman. "At least that's what they tell me."

Alex and Ren looked at the outline of his left leg under the crisp sheet of his hospital bed. Still there. Then they looked back up toward his face, wearing that now familiar froggy smile. He was in good spirits.

"I hate to miss work — German, you know — but I suppose this is a good time for it."

"The whole wing is closed," said Ren.

"Yes, how is Hector?" said Todtman. "Your father's friend, I believe?"

"He looks even worse than you."

"That bad?" said Todtman, frowning.

"Who even gets tuberculosis anymore?"

"Very few people," said Todtman. "But it was quite common in ancient Egypt. One of the reasons the Old Kingdom collapsed, actually."

"That's where Hector and the other two were working," said Ren. "In the Old Kingdom rooms."

There was a pause as the information sank in.

"Probably a good thing that wing's closed," said Alex.

"Completely closed," said Ren.

Alex could hear the relief in her voice, and he knew why. The quarantine would keep her dad out of there for now. An image flashed through his mind: the little mummy, tossing and turning unseen in her slumber.

"Yes, I'll have to keep a close eye on it," said Todtman. His amulet stood out against his pajama top, which was not black but a surprising light blue.

"While we're away ..." said Alex.

Alex and Ren were headed to London. Officially, it was their first assignment as Junior Interns to the internationally renowned Dr. Ernst Todtman. In reality, strange things were afoot in England, as well.

"What do you think we'll find?" said Ren.

"Some messy sidewalks," volunteered Alex.

Blood had made another appearance in the London rain.

"So gross," said Ren.

"Well, I would definitely bring an umbrella," said Todtman dryly.

"I wish you could come," said Alex.

"I do, too," said Todtman, glancing down at his leg. "But I will have plenty to keep me busy here. Returning a lion and the like. And my colleague will be there. Dr. Aditi is a renowned scholar."

"Another member of the book club, you mean?" said Ren.

"Exactly," said Todtman. He turned to Alex and added: "And a good friend of your mother's."

"Do you really think she'll be there?" asked Alex, and they all knew he didn't mean Dr. Aditi.

"I hope so," said Todtman. "Something is going on there, and the pattern does seem very familiar."

Alex nodded. In addition to the bloody bad showers, there'd been reports of grave robbery and a near riot at one of the museums. Definitely familiar.

"Do you think one of them will be there, too?" said Ren. "Another Death Walker?"

"That is my fear," said Todtman. "You must be careful, and do as Dr. Aditi says."

"You sound like my dad," said Ren.

"Yes, he was not so easy to convince," said Todtman.

"You didn't mind-zap him, did you?" Ren asked, staring at him anxiously. "You promised."

Todtman raised his hands. "Innocent," he said. "I just mentioned that these internships are quite common in Germany, that you would be carefully chaperoned, and that it would be a great comfort to Alex."

"I helped with that last part," admitted Alex, raising his hand.

"I may also have mentioned that it looks very good on school applications," added Todtman.

Ren could see that last line having an impact. Heck, it had an impact on her: This was Manhattan, where the competition started in pre-K and ended never. Still, she was skeptical. Maybe he'd mind-zapped her mom instead?

"What about my aunt and uncle?" said Alex. "You didn't mind-zap them, did you?"

"I don't remember you asking me not to," said Todtman.

Alex smiled. He hadn't. And he wouldn't miss sleeping under a desk."

~~

Two hours later, they were on their way to the airport. Ren's parents came with them and got a little teary-eyed at the gate. Alex just rode it out.

Ren got the window seat on the plane and gazed out at the runway. She was excited for the trip — London! — but also determined for the mission. She wanted to help Alex and keep him safe. That was a big part of it, but part of it was for her, too. This was her chance to truly be exceptional, and not just look the part. The next time her dad called her his "little Einstein," she wouldn't be embarrassed. Forget Jesse Blatz; could even Einstein do what she was preparing to do? Would he even try?

Alex stared directly at the back of the seat in front of him. He was carrying a heavier weight. He was sure of it now: Everything that was happening was his fault. People had already died because he had lived. All he could do was try to make it right. He had to find the Lost Spells before they could be used again, and he had to undo the damage that had been done.

But more than that, he had to find his mom. She'd taken care of him his whole life, and now it had cost her. Not everything, though. He was sure his mom was still alive. It wasn't some insight imparted by his amulet. It was just a feeling he had. They had always been so close — doting mother and only son. Deep down, he could still feel that connection, stretched thin, but unbroken.

He intended to follow that thread wherever it led. Across an ocean? Sure. Across the globe? If he had to.

For twelve years, he'd been defined by what he couldn't do. He'd spent so much time cautious and fearful, sitting and watching. Now, he'd be defined by what he had to do. And at that moment, as he thought about the dangers that lay ahead in London, he was not afraid.

And not nearly so far away, behind a blue curtain just up the aisle, one final member of the crew reclined in comfort in first class. Luke had been a late addition to the flight. Officially, he was going to London for an elite track-and-field camp. Unofficially, Alex was pretty sure his aunt and uncle were sending Luke to keep an eye on him. Alex wasn't sure if that made his cousin an obstacle or an ally, and Luke wasn't saying either way. A battered Yankees cap pulled down low, he was already asleep.

~~

Thousands of miles away, in the underground lair of The Order, a slumber that had lasted millennia was over. Everything had changed. The heavy sarcophagus at the center of the chamber sat like an open wound between two worlds. Its stone lid lay cracked in two on the floor. Only the leader dared venture in now. Kneeling, he pointed his golden mask at the floor and listened to the shadowy presence looming above him.

"Rise, loyal servant," came a dry and desolate voice. "For soon, the old ways will be restored, and we will bow to no one."

Answers echoed around the globe. Deep underground in New York City, in a lightless and abandoned inner sanctum, a faint tapping began. It was coming from inside the painted stone of a false door, with only rats to hear it. In a cemetery in London, a more insistent sound clawed the night. And elsewhere, the first faint stirrings of life, long delayed. Of evil, long dormant.