Chapter 23

"Remind me what this is supposed to accomplish. Why am I holding a strange painting precariously high from the floor?" McKenzie sighed. She had excellent reason to ask this, for the picture in question was uncomfortably heavy.

"We are testing to see if I can use my tablet as well consciously as I seem able to unconsciously," the pharaoh replied simply. "I still have my doubts about the accident last week." True, nobody blamed Enrik anymore, but it irked him that had anyone doubted his friend's word- he wished to prove them wrong. He wanted to prove something. The girl merely huffed and adjusted the frame in her hands. Privately, she was grateful nobody else was around to observe them; surely she made a conspicuous image up on the stool! From where she stood, the pharaoh had the easier task. His thoughtful, dreamy expression belied the thought and care he'd taken in tonight's preparations.

The question was how to begin experimenting. Due to the museum's magical nature, it proved difficult as to find a lifeless relic as one expected. Risking an inhabitant's life was out of the question, and he doubted Larry would allow him to wreck a room on purpose. How, then, to test his tablet?

Art held the answer. Luckily, Nicky had thought of bringing in an abstract painting, one without anything living portrayed. Apparently such an artwork remained lifeless within the museum. He hoped nobody would miss it- they were merely scribbles and splotches scattered across canvas. Something done by a man named Jackson Pollock, based on the signature. He silently prayed his apologies to the artist and the gods, though if things worked out well, the painting would emerge from the test unscathed. In addition to the painting, they'd found several what McKenzie called prints stacked up for future testing; since no individual creatures or people were shown, Ahkmenrah and the others knew they were safe to use.

"I will see if I am able to repair the painting once we break it. Theoretically, I should be able to fix it as I did with my tomb and the Oceans Exhibit." Sounded logical enough, yet he feared it would prove far more complicated. Ultimately, he didn't have the heart to damage anything himself, which was where McKenzie came in. Indeed, he was stunned by her enthusiasm in volunteering. She'd explained her participation away by explaining she was 'in the proper mood for wanton destruction,' but refused to elaborate.

"What if the fact that it's not an exhibit here interferes with the results?"

Dang it, she had a point. Still, what choice did they have?

"We must hope for the best."

"Are you ready yet?" McKenzie's arms were really growing tired.

"One moment," he insisted. His main problem was activating it. He could read every symbol except two, which were so arcane he guessed they were from a language before his time. Should he try tapping them, rearranging them? Perhaps it would be best to leave them alone- he certainly hadn't touched them last time. Would a chant suffice? Aside from the one he'd used to lure the inhabitants back inside, he knew none!

"I don't think I can-" The stool beneath her wobbled and she accidentally let go. "Blast it!" Ahkmenrah didn't even have time to react before the artwork crashed to the floor with a loud crunch of glass and bronze.

Cautiously, McKenzie climbed down. "Well, at least the image itself is intact." Ahkmenrah couldn't even tell that at first- so many scribbles were annoyingly overwhelming- but she was right: the painting itself was okay, though crumpled up like an accordion. The frame itself was dented beyond repair, while glass had scattered in a halo-like fashion about two feet from the epicenter of disaster.

"What are you doing?!"

Before Ahkmenrah could even begin trying to use magic, Mr. Harris stormed in. Gone were the twinkling eyes and congenial smile- in their place were thunderous gray eyes and a grim scowl. The transformation was so shocking, Ahkmenrah and McKenzie barely retained their senses enough to move out of his way as he bent over the mess. "What have you done? This is Pollock's work! How-?"

"We apologize, Mr. Harris, truly it was an accident... My fault!"

"No, it was my idea!"

"ENOUGH!" They jumped back as the janitor exploded. Ahkmenrah was unable to look McKenzie in the eye. Despite what she'd said, he knew they were in trouble because of him. "DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE? THIS IS A JACKSON POLLOCK PAINTING, FOR GODS' SAKE! HAVE YOU NO COMMON SENSE? ARE YOU ALL SO SHELTERED YOU HAVE NO TASTE, NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE OUTSIDE WORLD-"

"Mr. Harris, what in the world is going on here?!"

Apparently nobody had realized how loud they were being, least of all the janitor. Harris instantly jumped back and looked down at his feet sheepishly. "I sincerely apologize, Mr. Daley, I'm afraid I lost my head! It's just that your lovely wards have somehow managed to destroy a priceless artwork- how precisely they managed to get their hands on it, I'll never know!"

Larry gingerly rescued the painting from the rubble. "It doesn't look ruined to me. The painting's wrinkled, but it's not torn or anything. The frame's destroyed. Easy fix, nothing to get worked up about."

"Am I the only one educated enough to understand how valuable this image is? It's a Jackson Pollock!"

"I understand that," Larry reassured him. He made a mental note to research this Jackson Pollock character. "But there's no need to get worked up to the point where I can hear you screaming at my friends from the other side of the building!"

Only then did Harris remember he was supposed to be the picture of humility. "I'm sorry! It's just when it comes to art, I consider myself to be a bit of a connoisseur, and when I see something like this, I... I just..." He wiped a tear away discretely.

Larry sighed. He'd actually been enjoying a relatively peaceful night, looking forward to his first date in a decade. Now he had to deal with this. "Just wait for me in my office, please? Sounds like we need to discuss proper discipline. You are not off the hook!" He cried, turning to McKenzie and Ahk. "Wait for me in the lounge, or so help me..." He waited until everyone had scattered before squinting at the painting, inspecting it thoroughly. What was the big deal about a mess of scribbles?

"Look, I totally get you want to understand how your tablet works, and I support that. But seriously? Smashing a priceless work of art? I'd have thought better of you," Larry scolded Ahkmenrah, tapping his heel in tune to his anger. Fortunately the pharaoh had admitted he'd bought it online from Craigslist (with the miniatures' assistance), which helped settle the night guard's nerves a tad- at least this way there was a chance they'd only gotten a knock off. Who knew what the hell anyone sold on Craigslist? "What am I supposed to do with you?"

Ahkmenrah looked down at his feet in shame. Back when he was in the old night guards' care, he knew the answer would've been locking him away. Not that he'd have ever done anything like that in the old days- what had gotten into him? He knew Larry would never imprison him, he knew punishment awaited.

Having made up his mind about something, Larry released his stern demeanor. "Come with me. Don't be scared, I've just got something to show you."


"I did not realize the storage unit had survived."

"Yeah I know, nobody else does, either. Well, except the Board, and Teddy."

"Guardian, I feel ill." No surprise there- the last time he'd entered the storage area, he'd nearly been burned to death.

"I promise you it's perfectly safe here now. I understand your unease, but nobody's gonna jump out and try to kill you. You okay?" Observing the pharaoh rooted beyond the threshold, Larry gave himself a good internal kick- he should've realized Ahkmenrah wouldn't be comfortable with visiting the place the preacher had almost destroyed him. "After your duel with Joseph, this place was walled off. Even with the funds from the Night Program, the Board won't be bothered with fixing it, so it's still a wreck. Perfect place for you to experiment!"

Ahkmenrah paused. "What do you mean?"

"Here, no one will care if you make a mess. Nobody will care if you break something. Ruin it, demolish it to your heart's content!"

Though he remained in the doorway, Ahkmenrah considered Larry's proposal. "You are granting me access to this area? In spite of my careless handling of the painting?"

"Oh don't get me wrong, you're grounded for three weeks because of that stunt. But at least this way I'll know you're not destroying any necessary- or expensive- artifacts."

"I am deeply sorry, guardian. Words cannot express my grief at causing you trouble!"

"All I'm gonna say about it for now is it'd better not happen again. Like I said, you're grounded, but I know you didn't mean anyone harm, so I'm letting you off easy this time. And I really do understand your need to figure out your tablet; I remember how awful it is to not have have a hold on things in your life."

Gazing down at the golden relic in his hands, Ahkmenrah mumbled, "It was Father's last gift to me, yet I no almost nothing of it. Only myths."

"Well, now might be the right time to find out more." Clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder, Larry turned to leave.

"Why do you trust me?"

Larry spun around to see the pharaoh amidst the charcoal gray surroundings of the looming storage room. "What?"

"Why are you entrusting me with so much freedom? Freedom to fiddle with my heirloom, even after I erred so stupendously?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Ahk. Maybe I just trust you. From what I've heard, you've been dealt a hard hand in life, both in Ancient Egypt and here. Now I can give you a chance. You made a mistake, sure, but nobody got hurt- you minimized the risk as much as possible, though I wish you'd talked to me or Teddy first. I've given you the benefit of a doubt so far, and I've been rewarded by getting to know you as a person. Somehow, I doubt you'll start disappointing me now," he smiled. "Oh, there's one condition to working here: Teddy or I have to be there to help. McKenzie is sweet, but for something like this, it's better to have us nearby. Got it?"

"I understand, Guardian."

"Good. Back to your exhibit for the night, got it? And try to avoid running into Mr. Harris for now- and believe me, he's not off the hook for screaming at you like that- that is not how we handle discipline around here!"

"Do not judge him too harshly, guardian. We upset him greatly, and I cannot blame him for yelling at us when he saw what we'd done."

And that's one of the reasons I like you. "I'll take that under consideration. Just get back safely, all right? No more trouble for tonight."


As he paced up and down waiting for the night guard to arrive, Mr. Harris grumbled to himself. By now, he was stomping more than pacing, his steps and mutterings fueled by his shock and rage. It would be difficult to conceal both from Mr. Daley; he'd already failed to mask one. The fool he'd been! Obviously the pharaoh's situation here had significantly changed. Now, he was-he shuddered to accept the word- popular! He should have counted on that, especially after so much time had passed.

No need to fret now, there'd be no point. What had disturbed him most was the sight of the tablet in the king's hands. He'd hoped he'd stomped out that little curiosity trait long ago; he was mistaken. Twice more the fool! And he himself was no closer...


Princess Aisha: I'm thrilled you've enjoyed all of my stories so far! I humbly pray I'll continue entertaining you with them. Perhaps someday Attila will feature more into them; who doesn't enjoy a good tale about our favorite, lovable Hun? (I completely understand why you'd be especially partial to him. ;) Do you have an account? If so, perhaps we could collaborate on an Attila story.

Fair warning, though, my main focus has been on Egypt for quite a while, and I have plenty more about Ahk to get out of my mind before I think about expanding on another character.

What's life like as an inhabitant at the magical museum?

LadyofStarClan: How are your internet connectivity issues? I hope they'll be resolved soon!

Also, I apologize to any Jackson Pollock fans out there; he was the only major name I could think of who's famous for specializing in such abstract art, one that probably wouldn't come to life in the museum. Just so everyone remembers, the painting survived. Breathe!