The Sacred Scarab by Gill Harvey Read Free Book Online

come in. I want you to deliver them for me. You must take them to the embalmers’ workshops.’
    Hopi’s heart leaped. The workshops were shrouded in secrecy; few people could afford to have their relatives embalmed, and the process their bodies went through was shrouded in magic and ritual. He knew he was being granted a great privilege.
    ‘Thank you, Menna,’ he said.
    Menna began putting the amulets back into the casket. ‘But I have one condition. You must complete your studies of the scarab, for it is the scarab that protects the heart.’
    ‘Willingly,’ breathed Hopi.
    The old priest reached for his stick. With an effort, he got to his feet, and picked up the casket. ‘Now we must make an offering. The amulets must be blessed, and so must you. Only then will you be fit to be the bearer of such power. Come.’
    Hopi followed his tutor inside the house. They entered a cool, dim room, where a shrine to the goddess Serqet stood in one corner. All around were the tools of Menna’s trade: strings of onions, herbs, bottles of oil, pieces of dried-out dung.
    ‘We must make our offering to Anubis,’ said Menna. He brought out a little statue of the jackal-headed god and placed it next to Serqet on her shrine. ‘Kneel down here, Hopi. Let’s pour the god a libation of sweet oil.’
    As Hopi kneeled in front of the shrine, Menna fetched a jug of fragranced oil and poured some in front of the statue, murmuring a prayer. He lifted the casket of amulets on to a table nearby. Hopi glanced up and saw that he was transferring them into a smaller wooden box, wrapping each one in scraps of linen for padding. He placed the box on the shrine, murmured more prayers and poured another libation.
    ‘Now may the gods bless Hopi, he who will be their bearer,’ he intoned, placing his hand on Hopi’s head. Then he reached for the box and placed it in Hopi’s hands. ‘These amulets are now in your care,’ he said. ‘Do not open the box or touch them, for they are destined for the Kingdom of the Dead. Give them only to the chief embalmer Weni. Go early tomorrow. Is that clear?’
    .
    Mut listened to the news, then jutted out her lip in disappointment. ‘You mean, you’ll be going back to Abana’s without me?’
    ‘I don’t want to do it, Mut!’ cried Isis. ‘I wish you could come with me.’
    ‘But why does he want you to go back alone?’ persisted Mut. ‘I don’t get it, Isis. Why can’t he wait until it’s the two of us?’
    Isis shrugged. ‘How should I know?’
    ‘I’m just as pretty as you,’ said Mut.
    ‘You weren’t even there,’ snapped Isis. ‘He doesn’t know whether you’re pretty or not. He doesn’t even know who you are .’
    She got to her feet and ran up to the roof feeling furious. Mut was impossible when she was in this kind of mood. It was bad enough returning to Abana without her dance partner making life difficult as well. Sometimes she hated living in this house – however hard she and Hopi worked, they would never truly belong. Mut didn’t know how lucky she was.
    She paced across the rooftop, waiting for Hopi. She wanted to tell her brother everything. Maybe – just maybe – he would think of a way out of it. At last she spotted him, limping along the street.
    ‘Hopi!’ she called. ‘Come up here!’
    The minute her brother appeared at the top of the stairs, she catapulted herself into his arms.
    ‘You’ve got to help me! Come and sit. Here, put your bag down –’
    ‘No!’ Hopi snatched his bag out of Isis’s grasp. ‘Stop it!’
    Isis stopped in surprise. ‘I was only getting you to sit.’ She peered at Hopi’s bag. ‘What have you got in there? A snake?’
    ‘No, I haven’t got a snake.’ Hopi lowered himself on to the mats. ‘You should just be more careful, that’s all. Now, what’s wrong?’
    Isis eyed the bag curiously. She knew Hopi too well. There was something interesting inside it, she was sure, but she’d find out soon enough what it was. She