Author's note: [chapter revised in 2019] Here's the third chapter; the title comes from "Bad Moon Rising", by Creedence Clearwater Revival. I hope you enjoy this one… There are a few new faces, and… a little cliffhanger at the end :o) (Also – oh, glory and trumpets! I have a beta-reader! LaurieM has agreed to beta-read my story, and I'm very glad about that – she's the author of Deeper Within Darkness: check it out, it's a fantastic story.)

Disclaimer: Stephen Sommers owns and developed The Mummy and The Mummy Returns; the characters, places, some situations are his creation. Some things I did make up, but every character here is fictitious, and doesn't have anything to do with any person, living, dead, or in-between. Who knows.

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Chapter 3: Trouble on the Way

"Oh no, please, Rick, not you too!"

Rick began to laugh. Why did people talk so much about boredom within married couples? Eleven years, and Evy still managed to amaze him. In more ways than one.

"Look, honey, I don't mean to follow the pack or anything, but you truly see mysteries everywhere. And you know what? I was wrong."

"Were you?" Evelyn seemed pleased, then puzzled. "About what?"

"You don't just attract trouble. You create most of it as well."

He had to chuckle at the look on his wife's face. Then he pulled her close and kissed her to let her know he was joking. For all of her qualities, Evelyn still had some problems catching onto Rick's humour at times. Rather funny, considering everything he had heard about the famous British sense of humour.

She eventually smiled, and the dark room was silent for a short while. Her head was lying on the pillow right next to his face, and he almost had his nose in her dark hair. The scent of it had changed ever so slightly since they had left London; it was now a bit headier, deeper, and reminded him of sand, stupid as that sounded. The thought that he had come to love the smell of sand made him smile inwardly. He'd have to tell her that, some day. In the meantime, he let his eyes wander up and down her body, and wondered at the feeling growing in him as he gazed at those attractive curves. Before Evelyn, Rick had never truly had a real home, and had not really been looking for one anyway. By finding her, he had found out that he didn't need a big house to settle in and everything; his home was simply wherever she was. Now this was a thought that he liked a lot.

Ah – his lingering gaze was beginning to make Evy blush. If that wasn't an added bonus… She was so funny then, with her reddening cheeks, her bright eyes, and the way she bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. The fact that she generally failed delighted him, as his wife happened to be very cute in her unsuccessful attempts to suppress a smile.

"Well, Jonathan always said that there was a nosy streak in the family, but that I was the worst case he'd ever seen. Can you believe that?"

Her eyes demanded an answer from Rick. And he did answer, although he considered this particular moment in this particular place was maybe not best chosen to talk about his brother-in-law.

"Okay, coming from your brother that's pretty funny, but you're still the nosiest librarian I've ever met. That's my own opinion about it, and you must admit there's some ground in my judgement."

"And you ought to admit there's some ground in my line of reasoning as well. I mean, think about it! Why pull the act of surprise while he really knew all along…"

"Knew what?"

"Who I – who we were, what we've done… After what I saw in that file, I'm even surprised he didn't bring up Ardeth's name."

"It was in –?"

"Oh, yes. There were at least four pages about the Medjai tribes, from their role as Pharaoh's bodyguards to the protection of the City of the Dead…"

"And Ardeth was mentioned personally?"

"I read his name three or four times. It seems that he was elected High Commander of the Medjai in 1932, barely a few years before the second Raising of Imhotep."

Rick didn't quite know what to say to that. The Medjai were a desert tribe, one of the most secret ones, and so far he had thought only a handful of people were aware of their existence. Especially in this ever-changing world where no one seemed to care much about mummies, ancient civilisations, dashing adventurers, and mysterious men guarding tombs. Most of the stuff he came across in London's papers was more likely to involve shady political manoeuvres, arms races, treaties, or winning more gold in the next Olympics.

No wonder Rick felt slightly out of place sometimes.

"So, all this fussing about the first three folk to return from Hamunaptra –"

"All right, it might also be that he's absent-minded, or that it's really been ages since he last looked into this file… Otherwise, yes. All of it would just be a front."

Rick thought it over for a minute, and then pointed out, "You know, I value your argument and all, but are you aware that you're probably making all this fuss about nothing at all? The guy seemed harmless enough to me – the only thing I was worrying about yesterday was that he looked ready to carry you off, even though you're wearing this ring."

To add more weight to his words, he gently took his wife's left hand and kissed her third finger. Evy grinned at that, but let him finish, her eyes never leaving his face. They shone even more in the dark.

"Anyway, I hope your feelings about it are wrong, sweetheart."

"Believe it or not, darling, so do I," said Evelyn, nestling her head against his neck. "Much as I love being right, I wouldn't like it very much if I really had reason to worry about Mr Ferguson. Jonathan looked a little upset this afternoon when I spoke to him about it."

"You 'spoke' to him? Look, Lord knows your brother and I aren't exactly the best of pals, but maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to do." Rick paused, then frowned slightly. "What did you tell him anyway?"

"Well, I merely pointed out a couple of details to him."

"What kind of details?"

"For one thing, the fact that it was strange that Ferguson didn't seem to know Jonathan had been to Hamunaptra. And also that he didn't see any relation between Evelyn Carnahan and Dr Evelyn O'Connell. It wasn't such a big deal, honestly."

"Yeah." Rick scratched his head. "How did he react?"

"Jonathan? He sounded – sort of angry. He sulked a little bit. I mean, he can be such a child about some things that it wasn't really that surprising, but it was odd to see him overreact that way."

Rick was quiet for a minute as he let his hand run from his wife's shoulder to her hip. Of course, the thought of the warm skin underneath the nightdress sneaked into his mind and he tried to shut it off, keeping that for later. For the moment, he had something to tell Evelyn.

"Look, Evy… I'll say this only once, so listen up. I understand your brother. If I'd met an old buddy of mine, and my sister insinuated shady stuff about him after seeing him only for an evening, I would've been pretty angry."

"You don't have a sister that I know of."

"I know I don't," said Rick, rolling his eyes. "But that, Evelyn, my love, is not the point."

It was her turn to frown slightly. In the dark, he saw her blink thoughtfully a few times. "So, your point is?"

"My point is, give it time. Don't go 'speaking' more about that to Jonathan – you'll never get a reasonable answer. Because that's what you want, right?"

Evelyn let out a little laugh. "Yes, well, Jonathan's not quite what I'd call 'reasonable' most of the time. I might've guessed that he wouldn't be reasonable about that. He's far too trusting, though – one of these days that'll come back to bite him."

"Your memory's that bad? It already has. A number of times. God, choosing Mark Bellamy as poker partner…" Rick couldn't help a snort. Bellamy was more of a cheat than Jonathan could ever dream to be, and that had caused his brother-in-law to lose quite spectacularly. He had just been lucky Bellamy was only a small-time hustler and not some gang leader.

Evy didn't add anything, and Rick took the opportunity to crawl closer to her and say between kisses, "Sweetheart, why don't we – forget about all that and – the rest? We can always talk about it – tomorrow. What d'you say?"

She eased herself among the pillows, and smiled before answering, "That'd be good, yes."

One minute later, Rick had forgotten everything that was not exclusively Evelyn.

"I am positively surrounded by married couples."

Tommy turned to Jonathan with an eyebrow raised, and Evy laughed softly. "Is it as bad as you make it sound?"

Jonathan snorted. "Oh, no. It's worse. See that chap over here?" He pointed to Tommy, who looked surprised. "He told me yesterday that he married a common friend twelve years ago. So he's turned sides. Lousy traitor."

Tommy grinned, getting the joke.

"Really?" Evy's voice was polite, but there was a definite pleasure in it as well. "Congratulations, Mr Ferguson. About the happy event, but also for not turning out a complete scoundrel, like my brother here."

They were walking to the Museum – Evy had kept her promise, and arranged an interview with Dr Hakim, the curator. Despite the overwhelming heat – it was three in the afternoon – Jonathan felt quite thrilled about this interview. He was going to see the diamond, for the first time in almost two years, and show it off to Tommy, who had never seen it. Of course, it was a bit of a drag not being able to touch it – not to mention taking it with him – but that was something already.

"What is your wife's name?"

"Elizabeth, we met when the three of us were students in Oxford. She's in our home in Dorset right now. She works for the telephone company, couldn't get time off to follow me here."

Evy slowed down her pace to be level with Jonathan, and looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, now that I think of it, you've never, ever brought up the subject of marriage…"

"That's because I happen to enjoy my life as a happily debauched bachelor, thank you very much," said Jonathan, sarcastic. Why did so many people seem to be obsessed with marriage? He just couldn't see the point.

"I'm sure you do," she retorted in the same tone of voice. "And that's too bad, really, because I think I would've liked being an aunt."

Jonathan opened his mouth to reply something, but she was quicker. "Of course, there's also the fact that I don't think any sane woman would want to share her life with you the way things are right now. As I know you, you'd be picking her pockets in less than three days."

Right. Now Jonathan was fuming. "Now listen here, you –"

"I know, I have no right to speak to you like that – I'll probably be regretting it for the rest of the day, but be that as it may, I'm married, to a wonderful person, and I have a wonderful son. Remember how Mrs Pemberton used to rant on and on about how the blood would be dying with us, because you were a rascal and I was turning spinster. Jonathan, I found someone – why don't you try and search, some day?"

Evy had stopped in the middle of the pavement at some point of her speech, and was now staring at him in a way that made him look away. She would not move until she'd got an answer, he knew her well enough to be aware of that. Careful to avoid glancing at Tommy, who was standing a few feet ahead of them pretending he wasn't seeing nor hearing anything, he waited to let his anger cool off a little and snapped, "Now look. Don't mix things up. I'm not you – I'm not even like you. I like my life just as it is, and I'm sure you like your life the way it is as well. I'm not marrying some girl just to please you, so it's no use to badger me about that, all right? If, by extraordinary chance, I happen to change my mind on the subject, you'll be the first to know, I swear. 'Til that day, please, not a word about it."

Evy looked dumbfounded, and a little hurt, as Jonathan noticed with a slight pang of conscience. He hated to see his baby sister hurt, especially when he was the one who had caused it. With a sigh, he took her by the arm and started walking again.

"Come on, don't be offended – you're the one who brought up the subject, remember? And in such a subtle way, too."

She said nothing, and when he looked over at Tommy, he noticed that his friend's shoulders were hunched, as if he was still waiting for the storm to pass.

"All right, all right, I'm sorry I said that. Just – forget about it, will you?" Cripes. His one and only sister, and he still didn't know what to say when he'd upset her. "Besides, you're a great mum and all, but you don't know, maybe you'd be terrible as an aunt." Ah, he thought he caught something flicker over his sister's face. So he pressed on, of course. "Right, try to imagine me as a dad. Now if that doesn't make you laugh…" Hooray! Victory was at hand – Evy had that strained half-smile she gave when she had her mind set on not smiling. Jonathan had seen this expression directed at him quite a number of times when they were younger; now, it occurred mostly when Alex was trying to make it up to his mum after a prank gone wrong. If there was something the boy took after his uncle, it was the ability to talk himself out of tricky situations. But Jonathan wasn't sure if the knack for getting himself into these situations in the first place came from Evy or himself.

As they came into view of the Museum, he whispered in his sister's ear, "Well, if you're really that mad at me, let's go find that bloody Book of the Dead, raise a mummy or two, and save the world again – you could let steam off, and I could make it up to you by… doing the best I can."

That made Evy's eyes dart up to him, and he was immensely glad to see a genuine smile finally dawn on her face. "Like you did last time?"

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck. He looked briefly at his sister, gave an embarrassed grin, and turned to look ahead at the entrance of the Museum of Antiquities. "Ah… yes. Like last time."

Evelyn gave her brother's arm a very slight squeeze, and her smile stayed on. Tommy grinned at him, and Jonathan grinned back. Too bad that the bloke never had a baby sister; he didn't know the wonderful feeling of victory one could get simply by getting a smile from his sister after a tiff like that.

The curator was in his office, waiting for them in front of his desk, which was rather exceptional – Dr Fahad Hakim was not the sort of man who liked to wait for anyone. He was a thin man, of average height, with thick pepper-and-salt hair. Jonathan saw his small black eyes narrow at the sight of them, and was instantly reminded of how very uncomfortable the fellow made him feel each time he saw him. The ancient Medjai legacy must include the beady, steady stare that was one of Ardeth's specialities.

"Dr O'Connell. Right on time, as always." Evy was acknowledged with a polite smile that unveiled white teeth. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing pleasant about the way Hakim shifted his glance from sister to brother, though the tone remained polite. "Mr Carnahan." How on earth had his sister managed to persuade this dragon to let him stand four feet away from the diamond, he would never begin to guess.

Jonathan gulped discreetly, and refrained himself from taking a step backwards, intent on keeping what little dignity he had left. Tommy looked at him quizzically.

"Dr Hakim?" Best to leave the entire public relation job to Evy. She was easily the best at that – far better than he and Rick. "May I introduce Mr Thomas Ferguson, from the British Antiques Research Department – I talked to you about him yesterday."

"I certainly remember you doing so. Good afternoon, Mr Ferguson," said Dr Hakim, extending a hand to Tommy, who shook it in a pretty different way than he had shook Jonathan' and Evy's. Evy had drilled him on proper behaviour. Officer training had nothing on Evelyn O'Connell once she got a good lecture going.

"I'm honoured, Doctor. How do you do?" Tom's voice was polite and even – it seemed to surprise Evy, and it sure surprised her brother. Hell, how could he tone down that accent of his at will?

The curator looked pleasantly surprised, too – ever so slightly – as he nodded his appreciation. Then he left his desk and walked over to the door. "Dr O'Connell, gentlemen – shall we proceed?"

The three of them left Hakim's office and walked down the corridor, Evelyn, Hakim and Tommy in the lead, discussing animatedly some dynasty of Pharaohs. Jonathan trailed behind, idly gazing around him at the old stone walls, grateful for the change in temperature – it was stiflingly hot outside – and not really listening to the conversation.

When they passed through a room where a few mummies were displayed, he could not help a silent snort, remembering the scream his sister had let out when he had quite literally 'raised' a mummy from its sarcophagus, on that particular morning, so long ago. Some things turned out quite weird, really: he couldn't recall some events that had taken place one week ago, but he had kept in mind every detail of the day after the Sultan's Casbah, when he had shown that bloody 'puzzle box' to Evy. Down to the fact that the Bembridge scholars had rejected his sister's application for the third time. And also the massive hangover he had been nursing.

They crossed a small number of rooms, and finally stopped in front of a large wooden door. Evy and Tommy stepped aside as Hakim took out a bunch of keys.

The room behind the door was small, and rather dark, the only ray of light coming from a high, fairly large window. There were several items, but none of them caught Jonathan's attention as much as the diamond, sitting imposingly on a low, sober-looking display shelf against the wall. The light was mirrored in its numerous facets, only stopped by the elaborate gold decorations.

The Diamond of Ahm Shere in all its gleaming glory.

"Whoa," whispered Tommy, his eyes goggling.

"I know the feeling," said Jonathan in the same voice, a big grin pulling at the left corner of his mouth. "Takes your breath away, doesn't it?"

Tommy only nodded, blinking.

"The diamond taken from Ahm Shere," announced Hakim, heading for the gem with Evy. "Although I suspect you already know the story behind it, Mr Ferguson, since you appear to be familiar both with Egyptian secrets and the ones who brought it here."

"I do know the story," Tommy said, not taking his fascinated eyes off the diamond. "Is it true, what I've heard? About the link between the oasis and the diamond?"

That drew Jonathan's attention away from the gem. "What link?" he asked, puzzled. "What're you on about?"

"According to what Ardeth once told me," said Evy, stepping closer to have a better look at the diamond, "the pyramid would be a sort of lock to the oasis, to which the diamond would be the key. But I didn't quite understand what he meant by that. Besides, I had other things on my mind at the time." She trailed off, and Jonathan realised that this conversation must have taken place aboard Izzy's dirigible, on their way to Ahm Shere. While they had been chasing after Imhotep and Anck-su-namun, who had kidnapped Alex. Bloody rotten mummies.

"Why didn't I catch that bit?" he asked, interested in both the answer and talking Evy away from the memory. That worked, and she stared at him, a thin dark eyebrow raised sarcastically.

"I believe it had something to do about you dreaming about that 'gold pyramid'…"

Jonathan opened his mouth, but, deciding that he'd had enough quarrelling with his sister to last him a long time, shut it and turned back to the diamond with a noncommittal shrug.

Then they heard the footfall. Hurried footsteps raced up the hall, coming closer and closer, until –

"Dr Hakim! Dr Hakim!"

The curator walked over to the door, where a young, skinny Egyptian fellow had just come rushing in, his face drenched with sweat.

"What is the matter, Jamal?" asked Hakim in a slightly strained voice, and Jonathan marvelled at the cold, calm curator suddenly coming so close to losing his cool.

"Problems – problems in the – the Akhenaten chamber," the young assistant panted breathlessly. "Someone has moved pieces – the bust of the accursed Pharaoh has been set down – glass all over the floor, must be a broken window –"

"Calm yourself, Jamal," said Hakim, putting a hand on the lad's shoulder. "I'm going. Have you told Abdul?"

"Yes, sir, I met him on the way here," stammered Jamal. "What shall I do?"

"Just give me one second while I speak to our guests," answered Hakim patiently, and his steady voice seemed to have a calming effect on the boy. He nodded, and leaned against the wall for support, as Hakim turned to his 'guests'.

"Well, I'm genuinely sorry that the visit was so dramatically shortened, but it appears I am needed. May I escort you to the main hall?"

Tommy opened his mouth, looking scandalised, but Jonathan was quicker. "Come on, can't we just stay a mite longer? I mean, what's the worst that could possibly happen?"

"Whoever broke into the Museum could break in here and steal some more objects," replied the curator, coolly. "And I believe you've seen enough of the diamond. After all, it is all that it seems – just a gem."

"It's not 'just a gem'!" exclaimed Tommy. "It's the only remnant of the Oasis of Ahm Shere – the key to the pyramid and the chambers within!"

"What exactly do you know about it?" Evy piped up, and Jonathan noticed the glint in her eyes. Oh, boy. Whenever it appeared, this glint meant trouble.

Tommy shrugged disappointedly. "Not much more than you do. My superiors aren't quite keen on giving out information they feel we don't need to know."

Jonathan didn't like the look on Evy's face, so he stepped up and tried to be reasonable, for once. "We could stand sentinel. You know, guard this room or something, until you find the guy. Nothing's going to happen to the contents of this room while I'm in it, I swear."

"And I'll help," added Tommy. "Believe me, if anyone tries to break in uninvited, I'll bash their 'ead in."

The curator looked unimpressed, but Evelyn stared at them, frowning. "Can we actually trust you with the diamond? Do you swear that nothing will happen?"

"Evy, I swear on my own head," said Jonathan, seriously. Well, almost. He really wanted to be, though.

Beside him, Tommy nodded solemnly, his face impassive. Evy sighed. For some reason, it was Hakim who spoke, and even more surprising, there was the ghost of a smile on his severe face. "Well. It would seem that you are quite determined. Consider yourself to be on a mission from now on. I may be wrong, of course – but I have a few reasons to think we can trust you." And he smiled. He actually smiled slightly at Jonathan, his eyes still stern, and the Englishman got the feeling that he might be familiar with some of the events that occurred at Ahm Shere. Maybe Ardeth had told him about it, as they were distant blood relatives. In fact, their closeness was certainly more due to their both being Medjai than their actual kinship.

Jonathan stared back, a feeling of pride growing in him. Then he shook himself out of it and grinned. "Well, thanks – for trusting us, I mean. Not many people who'd do that, I guess."

Evy chuckled, and the curator's face went back to its usual gravity.

"We will conduct a thorough search," he said, turning to young Jamal, "and I hope we'll be able to catch the intruders in time. Stay here with Messrs Carnahan and Ferguson, while Dr O'Connell and I gather the attendants for the search."

"Yes, Dr Hakim, sir," said Jamal in a firmer voice, straightening his fez on his head. Hakim laid briefly a hand on his shoulder again, and, after a last glance at Jonathan and Tommy, he walked off with Evy. A few seconds later, there was the sound of a key turning in its lock, and footfall dying away.

There was silence; then Jonathan went to sit on the floor, his back against the wall. Tommy soon came to join him.

"Well, that's quite some sister you've got, mate. She's not just smart, she's got guts as well," he said after a little while.

"I know." Jonathan grinned. "She and her family – they're the stuff heroes are made of."

"Knock it off, Jon. You're her family too, in case you've forgotten."

"Of course I haven't, you idiot – it's just that I'm no hero. Try as I may, I'll always be the average bloke, and I happen to like it that way. God knows they need someone normal in the family, for a change. Bloody bunch of heroic nutcases, the lot of them."

Tommy nodded with a smile, and didn't press the matter further, something for which Jonathan was secretly grateful. There were entirely in the wrong place for a proper heart-to-heart, and much too sober for it.

He looked up across the room to Jamal. The boy was standing near the door as he gazed at the chamber, looking a little scared. He couldn't be more than twenty-two or so.

"Your name's Jamal, isn't it?"

The assistant started, and looked at them curiously, as if he wasn't sure that the Englishman had actually addressed him. Jonathan grinned encouragingly.

"Erm, yes," stuttered Jamal. "It is. You're Mr Carnahan, aren't you?"

"That'd be me, yes – didn't know I was that famous." Jonathan nodded. "And this fellow here, with the weird accent, is Tommy Ferguson."

Tom waved briefly with a smile. Jamal nodded respectfully, and stared back at Jonathan. "You're the Jonathan Carnahan who brought the Diamond of Ahm Shere to the museum?"

"I am," he said, both pleased and puzzled by such fame. "How long have you been working here for?"

"Three months, sir," answered the boy. "Dr Hakim was very kind to hire me even if I was not twenty-one. I really needed to work, and I like to work here."

"How old are you, anyway?" asked Tommy.

"Twenty-one now, sir. My birthday was last month."

"Jolly good – happy birthday, then, son!" said Jonathan, grinning. "Even if it's a bit late –"

Something made the three of them look up at the window. There was a sound behind it, although Jonathan didn't recognise what it was exactly.

Then another kind of sound came from the door. This time, Jonathan recognised it at once – somebody was trying to break in.

"Tommy –"

"I heard."

Jamal had joined them near the door, shaking like a leaf. As the mystery man on the other side kept fiddling with the lock, Jonathan started to feel the familiar cold sensation rising in his stomach, which meant he was dangerously close to panic. There was no adventurer around, no blazing guns this time. What to do, what to do, what to do…

Turning around wildly, he caught sight of a cylindrical thingy with the head of Horus at the top. He grabbed it and joined Tommy who was standing in front of the door. Jamal was a few feet away, still shivering, but resolute.

"Don't you need –?" asked Jonathan, as he noticed his friend's hands were empty of any weapon. He was answered by a grim smile.

"Don't worry, mate. I won't."

The lock scraping grew more and more intense. Through his panic, a part of Jonathan's brain that was still functioning marvelled at the fact that those guys, whoever they were, had managed to find, amidst all the rooms and chambers of the museum, the one hiding the diamond.

And them. Though not for so long, it seemed.

CRACK! The window was smashed into pieces, distracting the three men for a second as they whirled around – it was one second too many. The door banged open, and before Jonathan could turn back to it, pain exploded at the back of his head. He had the sensation of falling backwards, the metal cylinder still clutched in his hand; a split second later, the world turned blood red, then black, and he knew no more.

"I see a bad moon rising
I see trouble on the way…"