Author's Notes:Ok, first and foremost, to those who fear I've abandoned my Harry Potter series: I haven't. I just put a break to it, because despite the fact that I've written 27 pages in French, I don't know how to wrap up this chapter and I've just put it on hold for a while. Which doesn't means I won't return on it – quite the contrary. Only I don't think (unless a good plot bunny pops up) that I'll be writing long, many-chaptered series after this one. Snippets, one-shots I'll surely write, but we'll see.
(Et en français, parce qu'il y a bien plus de lecteurs français de HP qui me posent la question: pour ceux qui me demandent si j'ai abandonné Les Chroniques : je n'ai pas abandonné les Chroniques :o) J'ai simplement fait un break, parce bien qu'ayant écrit 27 pages du chapitre 12, je ne sais pas trop comment le terminer et annoncer le 13ème, et je l'ai mis en stand-by en attendant. Ce qui ne veut pas dire que je n'y retournerai pas – au contraire ! ! Seulement, je ne crois pas que j'écrirai une autre histoire longue avec beaucoup de chapitres après avoir fini celle-là (à moins d'avoir une idée géniale et qu'elle me colle aux basques :o) J'écrirai sûrement des petits truc comme Two of a Kind, enfin, on verra.
For the moment, I present you with what I've been writing for the past year, since August 2003: a many-chaptered Mummy story, my very first, so I hope you'll write long, detailed reviews to tell me what's wrong and what's not, what you've liked and what you didn't.
So, after all this blabber, on to the story. Hope you'll like. Sincerely.
Disclaimer:Stephen Sommers owns and developed the characters of The Mummy, so feel free to blame him for my obsession :o) The characters, places, certain situations are his creation. Some faces and things I invented, some I twisted – but every character here is fictitious, and doesn't have anything to do with any person, living, dead, or… in-between. Who knows ;o)
Dedicated to Cat :o) Hi, mate!
FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM
"I knew this was gonna be a lousy day."
(Rick O'Connell, The Mummy original draft – fitting quote :o)
Chapter 1: Overture
Cairo, Egypt, 1937
The first thing that hit the tourist's eye upon seeing Cairo for the first time was that the whole city seemed to be a source of blinding white light. The little white houses, the blazing sky, the glittering sun – even the dust flying around helped complete the effect.
Of course, as soon as your eyes – and mind – adjusted, you could see and feel the dust that settled on absolutely everything, including your ears and nose, the layers of grime, the heaps of donkey and mule droppings in the streets … and if you were very careful, you could catch the hand of the passing pickpocket sneaking for your wallet, as it was in any metropolis big and noisy enough for passers-by to be distracted.
Not that this particular thought worried one particular Englishman who was currently sauntering across the streets of Cairo. As a fairly skilled pickpocket himself, Jonathan Carnahan didn't need to eye every corner warily – all he needed to do was to watch his own self and make sure that no belongings of his landed in anyone's pocket. And not forgetting to keep an eye out for something that might be interesting, as well.
Jonathan turned round a corner, whistling to himself the tune of some jazz song he'd heard. Despite his cheerful demeanour, he was feeling slightly miffed, having gone out in the hopes of finding something for Evy's birthday and coming home empty-handed. Lucky thing that he still had a couple of days to go. After years of searching frantically for a gift at the very last moment, he was determined to get his hands on something she might like – and preferably something that didn't involve puzzle boxes, big black books, and three-thousand-years-old mummies rising from the dead. That was over. He, for one, had had his share of insane stuff like that.
Thinking of their last trip to Egypt all together wiped the smile off his face. It had been two years, but how could he ever forget that horrible, ice-cold feeling that had left him completely numb, as he sat down next to the dead body of his sister, trying to comfort his nephew and failing so thoroughly? He had never felt so miserable in all his life, and that included some hard-to-forget occurrences.
There it goes again. Jonathan shook his head, and quickened his pace. Such memories, which he normally would never have allowed to return, were growing more and more frequent, and that was something that he didn't like at all. He didn't really mind returning to Egypt, as he'd had quite a few fond memories of the place before the whole nasty mummy business, but the reason behind the trip bothered him a little.
Two years ago, the second before they left the oasis of Ahm Shere sinking into the ground, Jonathan had taken as a souvenir – and compensation for all the troubles – the enormous diamond resting atop the pyramid. He'd felt very proud of himself for that, and it had come to him as a nasty bit of shock when Evy had told him there was absolutely no way he would take it to London. Yet, after much arguing on his part, and even more talking and coaxing on his sister's, he had finally admitted, despondently, that she might be right after all.
The tidy amount of money the Cairo Egyptian Museum of Antiquities had offered had not quite consoled him, not to mention that he had been forced to give a substantial quarter to Izzy, who fortunately never knew the real value of the gem. Even Evy reminding him that the diamond couldn't be safer than in this hidden room, under the constant, hawk-like watch of the Medjai curator, had not been quite enough. The diamond was so beautiful – gleaming white, inlaid with elaborated gold and pearls – and big – the weight of it had nearly pulled Jonathan down from the dirigible; parting with it had not been easy.
And now, just a few months ago, the British Government had contacted Evy and Rick through the curator of the British Museum where Evy worked as chief librarian; they had decided that the diamond was no longer safe in Egypt, with the Italian army having finished invading Ethiopia not so long ago and all the ominous tidings from Germany, Italy and Spain – the O'Connells had been kindly asked to return to Egypt, and accompany the diamond on its way to England. Which had meant, in a more concrete way of putting it, that they were mandatory volunteers. The look on Rick's face when he had explained it to his brother-in-law had been a murderous one – partly because he hated the idea of being ordered about, but the main reason was that Evy was more than enthusiastic about it.
Alex had told his uncle afterwards of the row they'd had one night, thinking he was sound asleep. Poor kid had never heard his parents truly fight in the space of ten years, and that had obviously disturbed him. To tell the truth, it had disturbed Jonathan himself, who saw Evy and Rick as the perfect couple in so many ways it was disgusting. Rick didn't want for all the world to go back to Egypt, but there was no way in hell he'd let his wife go there alone.
"And he said that Mum was 'a magnet for trouble', that each time they went to that 'damn place someone died', and after that Mum shouted something rude –"
"Rude? Evy? Are we speaking of my baby sister there?" Uncle and nephew were sitting on the carpet on the floor of the latter's bedroom, back against the bed. Jonathan liked it when he went over to 'baby-sit' Alex – Evy had finally come to trust him when she and Rick had to go out for an exhibition or whatever, and they always had a good time together. This evening, though, Alex had sat silently, looking crestfallen. When Jonathan had eventually managed to get him to talk, it was rather late in the night, and Alex ought to have been put to bed long ago. But neither of them were very eager about it just then.
His uncle's attempt at humour got a reluctant smile from Alex; he repeated what Evy had said to Jonathan, who let out a low whistle. "Indeed. Even your dad would call it rude, I guess."
Alex gave another slight smile, and snuggled beside his uncle. A tad uncomfortable at first with this rather unusual display of emotion, Jonathan put an arm around his nephew's shoulder and pulled him closer. "Hey. Want a piece of advice from your old uncle?" Alex nodded, not saying anything. "Don't worry too much. I've seen your parents together for twelve years, and if there's only one thing I'm sure of in this world – they are so in love it's sickening. It's always been this way, and I'm sure it'll always be this way." Alex raised his eyes. Jonathan looked down back at him, winking, "Get used to it, partner. We're doomed."
A moment's silence passed, more comfortable and relaxed than it had been a few minutes earlier. Then Alex raised his blond head to ask, "D'you think we'll go back to Egypt, then?"
"I don't know." Jonathan shifted slightly on the floor. "I wouldn't say no to a trip there – the country's a fine one. And after all, we're talking about my diamond here, dammit." Alex snorted, and Jonathan chose to ignore it. "Seriously, I like the place. I spent most of my time as a kid there."
"Well, I'd love to go." The passion in his nephew's voice echoed his mum's whenever she spoke of Egypt, and it wasn't lost on Jonathan.
"You sure? I would've thought that you would hate it, you know. You didn't have what I'd call a good time last time you went there."
"You only say that because you were scared to death most of the time."
"It's not true."
"Like hell it isn't!"
Jonathan managed to give Alex what he thought was a stern look. The boy just grinned.
"And you kiss your mother with that mouth."
"Bet Dad hasn't taught me half of what he knows."
This time, they both chuckled. Then Alex scrambled out of his uncle's arms and looked at him in the eye, "Why won't he go back to Egypt?"
"Well, it's – it's complicated." Like hell it is. "I guess he doesn't want to – lose you or your mum again." Jonathan swallowed. "And to tell you the truth – I have to agree with him on that one."
"But it's only for the diamond!" Alex exclaimed. "No Book of the Dead, no mummies, no ancient curses. Only a diamond to take to England."
Jonathan grinned. "The problem is, each time your mum began her sentence by 'It's only a' whatever, the world went upside down and your mum and dad had to save it. Mostly because they doomed it in the first place. If my memory serves me right, it was firstly the Book of the Dead, then the chest with that bloody Bracelet of Anubis." Jonathan shook his head. "Seems you take more after Evy than I'd thought." He winked at Alex to make him know he was only being half serious; but Alex went on.
"Okay, I understand that he doesn't want to lose me or –"
"Let me clear that up, Alex," Jonathan interrupted, his voice low and serious for once. "It's not that he 'doesn't want' to. You know him, there's not many things on earth he's afraid of – but he's scared out of his wits at the mere thought of losing one of you two. And that's saying something, because your dad's one of the bravest blokes I've ever known."
Alex was silent for a moment, pondering his uncle's words. Then his jaw clenched, and he looked away. "Uncle Jon?"
"Yes?"
"At Ahm Shere, I was – I was scared to death when – when Mum …"
Jonathan felt a knot tighten in his chest; he shifted closer to his nephew and put an arm around him again. "I know. I was, too."
A week later, after seven whole days of deliberation, Rick and Evy accepted the Government's mission. And after another fourteen days of heated debates, Alex was allowed to go with his parents to Egypt, seemingly thanks to the high marks he had received in his end-of-year exams for his last year at school. But Jonathan suspected that this decision had a lot to do with his nephew's ability to wear out any guardian when he didn't want to be left out. Thankfully the boy had never tried his infamous tricks on him, a fact that made Evy wonder endlessly.
In the end, Evy and Rick officially broke the news about the trip to Jonathan; not wanting them to realise that he had known for almost a month, he feigned to be pleasantly surprised, and asked if they minded him going along for the ride. Evy said yes almost immediately, but Rick muttered something about the return of the whole O'Connell-Carnahan family to Egypt bringing down plagues and destruction upon the world.
So, after a surprisingly uneventful flight from London to Cairo, and an equally calm trip to their 'old haunt', as Jonathan liked to put it, they were settling down peacefully. The lack of major events so far had made Rick more relaxed, even if he still looked as if danger was about to bear down upon his family any time. But the fact remained that they were to stay in Egypt until the London and Cairo Museums agreed on several points which still needed to be discussed. Ah, the joys of bureaucracy.
Jonathan was jerked out of his train of thought when he finally felt the afternoon sun's fantastic heat on his brown-haired head, and wished he had taken Evy's advice to put on a hat. They had arrived the day before, and while Evy discussed the diamond case with the curator of the Museum of Antiquities, and Rick stayed with Alex inside the house, Jonathan had sneaked out to take a stroll, and try to find a fitting birthday present. Evy was a tricky one when it came to gifts – she didn't seem to like flowers, trinkets or pretty dresses like any other normal woman; but she was mad about anything that reminded her of Egypt. And it had been that way ever since she was old enough to know what she wanted, which had come very early indeed.
Maybe the best thing was to ask O'Connell what he would be giving her, and either get ideas or just contribute to the purchase, as he had done before. But that idea bothered him. After all, as his one and only sister, she did deserve something special.
Quite lost in his thoughts this time, he barely registered that he was walking past the Museum before somebody knocked into him, hard enough for both of them to crumple, breathless, on the ground. Completely winded, it took Jonathan thirty seconds to come round and, instinctively, check his pockets for something missing.
"Gee, I'm sorry I bumped into you, man, din' mean to," came the voice of the attacker. Jonathan's eyes widened at the sound of this voice and he looked at its owner.
"Ferguson? Is that you? Tommy Ferguson?"
The fellow shook his sandy head, still looking a bit dazed; then his own eyes, round and brown, went even rounder as he stared at Jonathan, "Carnahan! What the hell are you doin' 'ere?"
"Glad to see you too, old chap," laughed Jonathan, standing up and dusting himself off before offering a hand at the man on the ground, who accepted it gladly.
He hadn't seen Thomas Ferguson since they had got out of Oxford, and that was ages ago. They'd made quite a pair, the two of them – the scrawny, foppish Southerner with the quiet grin and the sticky fingers, and the broad-shouldered, round-faced Scouse with the laughing eyes and the deceptively innocent face. They weren't the best of friends properly speaking, but they'd helped each other out of many a tight spot. They were 'mates', as Tommy liked to say.
As soon as Tommy had got on his feet, he was wringing Jonathan's hand with all the energy he'd been famous for as a boy, "Sorry, Jon, mate, I was a bit stunned –" After all these years, he still retained some of that accent, too! "– 'S'not everyday you bump into a pal from Oxford in the middle of Cairo! How'd you get here, for starters?"
"Well, I followed my sister," Jonathan replied, grinning. In fifteen years or so, he had not realised that he had actually missed this accent. "She's come to help the curator of the Museum of Antiquities – she's famous now, you know."
"Oh yeah? That's fantastic. I haven't forgotten how you'd talk about her, y'know. On and on and on. I'm curious to see what she looks like."
Jonathan stole a glance at the entrance steps of the Museum, and turned to Tommy with a smirk, "Really? Well, if you really want to, I suppose I could …"
His sister had just appeared on the steps, accompanied by the curator, an elderly man with greying hair and whiskers. Tommy followed Jonathan's gaze and looked at them, goggling at Evy in particular.
"Jonny – are my eyes mistaken, or is this gorgeous lass Dr Evelyn O'Connell? I've read about her, she's famous in my line of work … According to what I've read, she was one of the first three people to make it out of the City of the Dead alive –"
Jonathan's grin widened as he nodded, "Yes, that'd be her." Tommy rambled on as they walked closer to the steps, "That's bloody amazing! I thought she'd look, you know, like in the pictures in the paper, the bookish type with glasses – your typical Southerner spinster", he added with a wink. They waited for the curator to bid her goodbye, and Jonathan, greatly enjoying the situation, crept up on his sister to kiss her on the cheek.
"Hey there, old mum – how's your day been?"
Evy started, then her expression shifted from slightly ruffled to a smile as her brother began to laugh. She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Jonathan, the things that amuse you …"
"You're just miffed I startled you. C'mon, I'd like you to meet someone – an admirer," he added with a grin to Tommy, who stood there, his eyes wide. "Thomas Ferguson, an old school friend of mine. Tommy – Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell, my famous baby sister."
Evy held out her hand, which Tommy grabbed and shook heartily. "So you're the ol' rascal's sister? No wonder he spoke about you – though you don't quite fit the description now …"
"What exactly did you tell your 'school friends' about me?" asked Evy, warning in her voice, though the twinkle in her eye did not quite disappear. Nevertheless, Jonathan preferred to ignore her question, earning a hard nudge in the ribs from his sister.
"So, what did you say your 'line of work' was?" he asked Tommy.
"Well – don' laugh. I work at the British Consulate in Cairo, specialising in antique stuff. Oh, I'm sorry, Dr O'Connell," he stammered with a glance at Evy who had an eyebrow raised, "I mean I'm one of the chief operators of the British Antique Research Department."
"I've heard of you!" exclaimed Evy. "At least of that Research Department. They're gradually cutting off public funds – encouraging individual financing – that won't do any good for scientific research. Such a stupid decision will –"
"So you lot are the ones she kept fuming about for half a year!" Jonathan snorted. The infamous Ferguson rotten luck had just struck again.
Tommy looked dejected. Evy must have seen this, because she bit her lip and said, in softer tones, "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you. But as my brother said, I've been – rather upset over this attitude. I may work at the British Museum, but I care about the results of research, not the money behind it."
"I'll – I'll tell my superiors about it," said Tommy, still looking unsure. "See what I can do. Surely that won't be much, but … Well. I'll have tried."
"That's nice," Evy said cheerfully, taking Jonathan's arm and beginning to walk. "Look, the two of you – I've had something of a rough day, so I'll go home, if you don't mind. You can –"
"Brilliant idea!" said Jonathan, flashing a grin at his sister. "I thought of going to the Sultan's Kasbah, but you might find it a tad – let's say – dingy, my good friend."
"Worse than the Turf?" Seeing Evy's puzzled look, Tommy explained, "Sorry, private joke. I mean the Turf Tavern, that's where I saw him for the first time. Me family didn't 'ave much money, you know, so I used to work there to pay for my studies. Very nice pub."
"I'm sure you did indeed see a lot of my brother there," Evy slipped in slyly. Unruffled, Jonathan threw a mock glare at her.
"To think you are almost my only family. What a shame." Then, as Tommy looked uncertain, "Carry on, Tom."
"All right. So I was one of the only students who needed a job, and there were some others who thought that it was – how'd they put it? – a 'disgrace' to our university."
"Preposterous," said Evy sternly. "As if money could take you further than talent."
Jonathan refrained from the cynic comment that crossed his mind at Evy's innocence. Sometimes it just baffled him.
"Right," said Tommy uncertainly, glancing at Jonathan. "So, one day, a little bunch of lads come in, and Jon here was sometimes hanging with 'em at the time –"
Evy glared at Jonathan in advance, and he threw his hands in the air, "Don't look at me like that! I haven't done anything!" Evy's gaze softened, and Jonathan finished, "…Yet." That earned him a playful slap on the arm, and a laugh from Tommy, who went on, "Anyway, one of the guys orders somethin' or other, and starts to poke fun at me. Well, I was used to it, so I let them be. Then they continued, and I finally noticed that skinny lad in the corner who was makin' fun at them for making fun at me. Didn' quite understand what the hell was going on – oh, sorry, Dr O'Connell – what was happening."
Evy smiled. "You'll have to watch your mouth if you're to speak in front of my son, but otherwise it's fine. And please, call me Evelyn."
Tommy beamed. "Right, uh, Evelyn. So, uh –"
"What he didn't know at that point," interrupted Jonathan, "was that I had my eye on that fellow – what's his name – Farbow. He owed me quite a bit of money, but wouldn't repay me. So I was looking for a way to get him back for it."
"And get his wallet in the process, of course."
"Evy, he owed me seventy pounds. And he was not what I'd call a 'decent bloke' – nasty, disdainful bugger he was, and his little friends with him. Always a dirty word about the Scouse who worked at the Turf Tavern, just because he didn't belong to his little snobby world. I did the community a favour, really."
"Don't push it, Jonathan," warned Evy. Tommy carried on.
"Well, I was glad there was at least one person who didn't think like Edwin Farbow – nice change. Then Farbow said something – I don't remember what it was about, I jus' remember it really angered me, really. An' it's not a pretty sight when I'm really angry at someone."
Jonathan remembered, but thought it wise to keep his mouth shut.
"An' – an' I just lost it, y'know? I dropped his tea over his 'ead –"
"I say, that one was pretty funny," Jonathan said, smiling widely at the memory. But the strangled yelp that had followed had definitely been one of the best parts.
"So they all leaped for me, obviously – began to punch me, the six or seven of them – hey, I still managed to get back at them!" Tommy added quickly, as if defending his honour. Evy hid a smile, and it occurred to Jonathan that she was probably thinking about Rick. "But I'm not a fool. I know a losing fight when I'm in one."
"Don't tell me. Jonathan bravely threw himself into the fight to take on as many attackers as possible." There was mischievous laughter in Evy's voice, and her eyes were twinkling. If any other than her had quipped that way about him, Jonathan would probably have been offended, or hurt. But they knew each other enough not to cross the line.
Tommy raised an eyebrow. "Well, that wasn't quite Jon's style – I don' know, might've changed in fifteen years. But he did, then. One moment I was squashed under six or seven guys, the nex' I found out we were two on the floor."
Evy began to laugh, "Why, Jonathan? My Jonathan, in a fight, for someone he barely knew?"
At that Jonathan cleared his throat, a mite embarrassed, "I told you, I was looking for Farbow's wallet. That was the perfect diversion – you should've seen Farbow looking in every corner for his lost wallet afterwards. It was three months before he gave up." And it's lucky you didn't see me then. I was a bloody mess. "Why're you looking at me like that?"
"Nothing." Evy smiled. "You never told me that."
"Should I have?"
"I don't know, it's – it was nice of you to do that, even for the wrong reasons. I'm proud of you."
Jonathan felt an unexpected lump rise in his throat. Not a very big one, but enough to keep him from talking for a few seconds. It was always like this whenever she said something really nice to him. He fell for it each and every time.
"We're home," announced Evy after a little while, stopping in front of a door.
"Nice house," commented Tommy, taking in the sand-coloured neat front and the curtains at the windows.
"Our 'old haunt' since the family moved to Egypt," Jonathan said, opening the door and stepping aside to let his sister in. "Evy wasn't even walking then."
"I do believe I was," Evy protested. Jonathan snorted, "Oh, you weren't. You crawled."
Evy seemed to resist the urge to slap her brother and walked into the living room, her nose in the air. She was greeted by two simultaneous voices:
"Mum!"
"Evy!"
Jonathan waited a few seconds, then walked into the room in turn, and grinned at the sight of his nephew looking genuinely eager to see him. He was not fooled, however – as soon as Evy wasn't looking, Alex mouthed the words "Got one?" and frowned as his uncle shook his head. No, he still had no present for Mum's birthday.
Then Alex peered behind Jonathan and saw Tommy standing there, looking uncomfortable at the family reunion.
"Uncle Jon? Who's that?"
"Who, that one?" Jonathan pointed at his friend, and Alex rolled his eyes. "Tom Ferguson, was in class with me all through university. I ran into him by chance today."
Tommy stepped past Jonathan and held out his hand to Alex, nearest to him. "Hi – glad to see ya. Jon's nephew, eh?"
"Yeah," said Alex, eyeing him with all the suspicion of a ten-year-old who'd seen what he had seen. Behind him, Rick's eyes spoke loads about his own distrust. But mistrust toward Jonathan and everything related was rather usual on his part.
"Thomas Ferguson, British Antique Research Department," said Tommy, holding out a hand towards Rick, who shook it slowly, still reluctant.
"Rick O'Connell."
"So you're Dr O'Connell's husband? Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm impressed, you've no idea."
Rick raised an eyebrow, "Impressed?"
"It seems I'm a known person in the Research Department," said Evy, laughing.
"The Department owes your wife a huge amount of information about some shady periods of Egyptian hist'ry, as well as the major part of serious knowledge we've got on Hamunaptra," Tommy pointed out, and Evy blushed. "She's a legend – one of the original three who managed to go to Hamunaptra and live to tell the tale – but – I assume you're another one?"
"Yeah," said Rick, looking a bit nonplussed. Jonathan definitely didn't regret bringing Tommy in. Seeing Rick O'Connell confused was a very rare occurrence, too rare to be missed.
"I never knew – who was the third one?"
Jonathan was now struggling to keep a straight face. Rick blinked, and pointed at his brother-in-law, "That was him."
"You!?" God, the look on his face was priceless. "You were at Hamunaptra?"
"Yes," risked Jonathan, laughter rising in his voice. "And believe me, it wasn't quite the picnic. Oh, by the way, there were four of us, not three."
From the corner of his eye, he could see Rick roll his eyes and grinned, undaunted. This was proving to be a fun evening.
Well, it's just the first chapter, innit? I'm posting the second in a tick. I hope you liked enough to be curious about the second … Can you tell I'm nervous about this story? :o) Oh, two things I forgot in my Author's Notes: I chose to set this story in 1937, and I chose to make it two years after Ahm Shere. I know that, in the film, we clearly see the captions THEBES – 1933, but 1935 is the date at the back of the DVD, and at the back of the novelisation. Besides, in the film, Red (the bald-ish one of the three thugs) states that the events of TM happened 'nine years ago', and Alex is eight. I'm not good at maths, but I chose to trust it nonetheless. Now, there are other explanations to the funny dates – LadyDeb chose another explanation, which is unique in fandom – I think – and very interesting. Check her stories, folks, she's a fantastic author.
Oh, and the second thing … The second thing is the chapter titles. I'm very, very fond of music, so every title is a song title or belongs to a song. So 'Overture' is the opening number of The Who's fabulous album Tommy, the very first rock opera of the history of music, and one of my favourite albums. Yes, yes, I know. On to the next chapter :o)