When we reached the entrance of the Egyptian gallery, we stopped dead in our tracks. Our mother stood in front of the Rosetta Stone with her back to us. A blue circle glowed on the floor around her, radiating light and a feeling of power. I couldn't explain it at the time, but I felt that the circle was much more than some neon tubing or glow paint.
My mom had thrown off her overcoat. Her workbag lay open at her feet, revealing a wooden box about two feet long, painted with Egyptian images. There were several other items in the bag as well, including some string and what looked like clay or putty.
"What's she holding?" Samuel whispered to me. "Is that a boomerang?"
Sure enough, when Mom raised her hand, she was brandishing a curved white stick, moving it from side to side like a conductor before lowering it again. It did look like a boomerang, cured and angled with rounded ends. She raised it again, but instead of throwing the stick, she touched it to the Rosetta Stone.
I heard Samuel gasp and saw him lean in closer. Then I realized why. Mom was writing on the stone! Wherever the boomerang made contact, glowing blue lines appeared on the granite. Hieroglyphs. It made no sense. How could she write glowing words with a stick on a piece of stone? And why would she destroy such a valuable artifact with glowing writing? But the image was bright and clear: ram's horns above a box and an X.
"Open," Samuel murmured. I stared at him, because it sounded like he had just translated the word, but that was impossible. I'd been studying with Mom for years, and even I could read only a few hieroglyphs. There were seemingly hundreds of thousands of possible combinations, which changed and evolved through time. I could never imagine Samuel having the dedication to memorize all of those symbols.
Mom raised her arms again, chanting "Wo-seer, i-ei." Two more hieroglyphic symbols burned blue against the surface of the Rosetta Stone. As stunned as I was, I recognized the first symbol. It was the name of the Egyptian god of the dead.
"Wo-seer," I whispered. I'd never heard it pronounced that way, but I knew what it meant. "Osiris."
"Osiris, come," Samuel said, as if in a trance. Then his eyes widened. "No!" he shouted. "Mom, no!"
Our mother jumped and turned in surprise. She started to say, "Children—" but it was too late.
Author's Note: Thank you for being patient with me through this rough time. Let me know what you guys think, and please give me some other ideas for more original works. Comment and Review! I will try my best to make updates more regular, but they'll most likely be short. Thank you again.
Cat
