Tut Read Online Free Page B

field trip ever. Even better than that pumpkin farm we went to back in third grade.”
    I hadn’t been in third grade with Henry, or at all, for that matter, so I couldn’t agree or disagree.
    Henry ran his hand over the gold-painted entryway they’d built specially for the exhibit. Above it hung a sign that read,
    Death Shall Come on Swift Wings
    To Him
    Who Disturbs the Peace of the King.
    It was the curse that had been inscribed outside of my tomb. A chill blew through the air, which had to be part of the exhibit. I scanned the area looking for hidden fans but didn’t see any.
    â€œI think the curse is hooey,” Henry said. His messy blond hair was blowing from the fans, covering one of his eyes. He tried to push it out of the way, but it only blew back.
    â€œMe, too,” I said, even though I was living proof that the curse was real. “It’s propaganda, created by archaeologists.” I left it at that. My true opinion of archaeologists wasn’t relevant. And curses were definitely real. They were the most favorite, best weapon of the gods.
    â€œI think they made it up to keep people out,” Henry said. “Do you have any idea how much stuff was buried with King Tut?”
    â€œHow much?” Tia asked, kicking her combat boots against the gold column. The whole exhibit entryway shook but didn’t collapse.
    I hadn’t realized she was listening in on our conversation, but she was hanging on Henry’s every word, flipping one of her necklaces around in circles on her finger. It looked like it might be a cross, but then I noticed the loop at the top and realized it was an ankh pendant, which was one of the most powerful symbols in Egyptian mythology. She must be way into this field trip, too.
    Henry flipped open his notebook like he’d written it down. “I Googled it,” he said, talking louder now that he knew he had an audience. “There were chariots. And walking sticks … a whole collection of them.”
    Every word out of his mouth made it clear he’d totally geeked out over the field trip. It was flattering in a way, the reality that most of the world thought I was some kind of rock star. Still, the fact that the priests decided I needed that much stuff in the afterworld was pathetic. I’m not sure what they thought I was going to do with everything.
    â€œWhat do you think King Tut needed walking sticks for?” Tia asked, craning her neck to see into the exhibit.
    The tour guide scowled at her and shifted so she couldn’t see past him.
    â€œI heard he was a hunchbacked, bucktoothed pansy,” Seth said.
    Wait. He was talking about me. How dare he! If only I had the power to smite him. The only reason I’d had so many walking sticks is because they’d belonged to my dad before me.
    â€œThat’s not nice,” Tia said, hitting Seth on the arm with her wrist full of bracelets.
    Seth flinched like it hurt. No wonder she’d been kicked out of school for fighting.
    â€œBefore we enter the exhibit, it is imperative that nothing should be touched,” the tour guide said. “Doing so would invoke the wrath of the gods.”
    I forced myself not to groan. The wrath of the gods. That wrath had been invoked thousands of years ago. Touching a few of my old possessions wasn’t going to make them any angrier.
    The tour guide opened the doors. I hesitated. It wasn’t too late. I could leave. Except everyone started pushing forward, trying to be the first in, and I was shoved along with them. Seth bumped into me, I’m pretty sure on purpose. Hunchbacked and bucktoothed? Who was he to spread those lies about me? They’d been started by my enemies after my reign as a way to lessen my popularity.
    The tour guide stopped in front of the first item. “This is the actual chair the boy king sat in while eating his meals.”
    My face heated up. The chair was small enough for a five-year-old.