Free The Deathstalker by Gill Harvey Page A

with the new spells still running through his head. As he muttered the last one to himself, he saw Isis leave the house and hurry up the street.
    ‘Isis!’ he called after her.
    His sister stopped and looked up.
    ‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.
    She waved an ointment bottle at him. ‘I’m going to buy almond oil.’
    ‘And what else are you doing?’
    Isis grinned. She looked up and down the street to see who was listening, then stepped closer to the wall before answering, ‘Walk with me to the market and I’ll tell you.’
    ‘Fine.’ Hopi looked around for his bag, which he always carried. Then he remembered – he’d left it at Menna’s. He popped his head over the wall again. ‘Coming.’
    He hopped down the stairs and joined his sister on the street. As soon as they were out of earshot of the house Isis told him how Nes the wrestler had caught her in the camp, and that she was on her way to see him again.
    ‘You’re going to meet one of the wrestlers ? Isis!’ Hopi was full of concern.
    ‘It’s fine, Hopi, honestly,’ said Isis. ‘I’m meeting him right outside the temple, where the whole town can see. That can’t be dangerous, can it?’
    ‘Well . . .’ Hopi thought about it. The truth was that Isis was very good at extricating herself from difficult situations – better than he was sometimes. ‘Just don’t go following him to anywhere you can’t get away from easily.’
    ‘I won’t,’ Isis reassured him. ‘Anyway, what happened to you last night? Did you have anything to do with the scorpions they were talking about?’
    Hopi recounted his story about the deathstalkers and how he had taken them from the camp. His sister’s eyes grew round with horror as the truth about the pit sank in.
    ‘But that’s awful !’ she gasped. ‘Is that really what they were digging a pit for?’
    ‘Seems like it, yes.’ Hopi knew that Isis would be aghast. ‘But they couldn’t do it without the scorpions. That’s something, isn’t it?’
    ‘I’m so glad!’ said Isis fervently. ‘But what will happen now? Won’t Commander Meref punish the Libyan some other way?’
    Hopi hadn’t really thought about that. He frowned. ‘Maybe. But nothing can be as bad as a deathstalker’s sting.’
    His sister’s face was sad. ‘How terrible to be a prisoner,’ she said.
    Now, Hopi had to agree. And he felt ashamed that he had ever felt otherwise.
    They had reached a junction, and Hopi stopped.
    ‘I’ll leave you here,’ he said. ‘I’m going to see Menna. Good luck with Nes. And be careful, Isis.’
    ‘I will,’ Isis promised him again.
    Hopi limped off down the side street. He did want to see Menna, but part of him knew that he was avoiding someone else – and that was Djeri. He was dreading having to confront the soldier with what he knew. But maybe, if he talked it through with his tutor, Menna would give him some strength and guidance. He hoped so, anyway.
    He reached the old priest’s house. He usually knocked, then let himself in; it was the pattern they had established, for Menna often had his hands full. But now he pushed the door and nothing happened. It stayed firmly shut. Hopi was puzzled. Menna had said nothing about going out visiting. He knocked again, hammering harder this time. All was silent. Hopi banged and shoved on the door, but there was no doubt about it. It was firmly barred, and Menna wasn’t in.
    .
    Isis made quick work of buying the oil in the market. After driving a hard bargain, she asked the vendor
if she could leave her purchase with him and pick it up later. Then she hurried off towards the temple of Ipet-Resyt.
    The sun was almost directly overhead now. She was worried that she might miss Nes altogether, and broke into a jog as she approached the great temple, its vast walls and gates brilliant white in the sun. Nes had said to meet him on the town side, which meant the back of the temple, but the building was enormous. She started at the south end and made