Free Greek Warriors by Chris Blake Page A

feet for five thousand years old, aren’t we?”
    Suddenly Isis squealed. She pointed at Tom’s mother, who was pushing a supermarket trolley with a wonky wheel towards them.
    â€œLook, Fluffpot!” she cried. Our very own chariot!”
    â€œTom,” Mum said. “I thought I told you to wait by the trolleys!”
    â€œThat’s right, you naughty boy,” said Isis, wagging her finger at Tom. “You should listen to mummy.”
    Tom groaned and shot Isis a look of frustration. Under his breath he muttered, “I’ve been listening to a mummy ever since I broke that statue.”
    A few weeks earlier, Tom had accidentally broken a statue of the goddess Isis at the museum where his dad worked, releasing the mummies of Isis and Cleo, who had been trapped inside it for over five thousand years. And now Tom was stuck with them until they’d found all six amulets that Anubis had scattered throughout history.
    â€œShopping’s so boring!” Tom grumbled, as they passed under the neon-lit entrance to the supermarket. “Why did I have to come?” he whined to Mum.
    Mum was busy checking her list. “I need you to push the trolley,” she said, wandering over to the fruit and vegetable section.
    Tom grabbed the trolley’s handle. But just as he was about to stop next to the tomatoes and peppers, Isis shouted. “Come on, Cleo! Let’s ride the chariot!”
    Cleo mewed heartily. The two climbed up on to the banana shelf and sprang into the trolley, with Cleo nestling in the front section and Isis perched on the child’s seat.
    Isis reached up and pulled down some bunting that was advertising the bananas. She flung it round Tom’s body and gave it a yank.
    â€œGiddy-up, horsey! Pull me and Cleo to victory! YAH!”
    â€œIsis, no!” Tom said.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Isis asked. “You said you were bored. I’m only trying to liven things up a bit. I thought we could play chariot races.”
    Just as Tom was about to tell Isis what he thought of her pretending he was a horse, the supermarket manager loomed over him. He knew it was the manager because the red-faced man wore a badge that said: ‘Brian, Store Manager’ on it.
    Brian tapped Tom on the shoulder. “Young man! You are not to play with the bunting!” He pulled the tangle of yellow triangles off Tom’s coat.
    Then, worst of all, Mum came over.
    â€œTom! What on earth are you doing?” Her face was pink with embarrassment. She waved a bunch of celery in the air, almost hitting Brian on the head. She turned to him and bit her lip. “I’m so sorry. He’s normally such a sensible boy.”
    Tom glared at Isis. He was sure she was smirking under her bandages.

    â€œBlah blah blah blah
sensible boy
!” Isis’s impression of Mum was spot on. She giggled as Tom stormed off, pushing the trolley towards the meat counter.
    â€œYou’d better behave yourself now!” Tom hissed at Isis when Mum wasn’t looking.
    â€œWheeeee!” she shouted, as Tom rounded a corner. “I wiiiiill!”
    They pushed on towards the frozen food section. To Tom’s horror, as they turned into the coldest aisle in the shop, Isis grabbed an enormous pack of toilet roll from a shelf. She tore the pack open and started to wrap white toilet paper round herself.
    â€œWhat on earth are you doing now?” Tom cried. “You’re already all bandaged up.”
    Isis tutted loudly. “K-keeping warm. It’s f-freezing in here. Do you want me to f-freeze to death?”

    â€œYou’re already dead, as you just reminded me!” Tom said.
    Isis ignored him and carried on unwinding the toilet roll.
    Tom was frustrated by her pranks.
    â€œI know you
think
you’re hilarious, but every bit of mischief
you
get into, gets
me
into trouble!” he said.
    â€œWhat? Like this?” Isis tossed a toilet roll at Tom’s head.