Knight Quest (Time Hunters, Book 2) (2 page)

“I'll just fetch your P.E. kit,” Mum said, disappearing into the kitchen.

Tom rounded on Isis. “Listen! You mustn't touch anything while I'm out. We don't know when Anubis will send us on our next mission. So…” He scratched his shock of blond curls as he searched for the right words, “… just keep out of trouble.”

Isis leaned over the banister. “Don't get all bossy with me. You're the whole reason I'm here. It was you who smashed my statue at your dad's museum.
You
set me free again. Remember?”

Tom threw his hands in the air. “Yes, but aren't you forgetting the bit where I risked my neck travelling back in time to help you find your first amulet? It was
you
who tried to trick Anubis by keeping one of the amulets for yourself, but now
I'm
the one who's been roped into babysitting a dead princess and her cat!”

Isis made a huffing noise and tossed her head back with a crack. “There are still five amulets left to find. And until Anubis sends us on our next challenge, I might as well enjoy myself. So if
you
won't entertain me, I'll make my own fun.” She poked herself in the chest and accidentally put her finger right through her crusty ribs.

Cleo mewed in agreement and pawed at the banister spindles.

There was no way Tom was going to let Isis rummage through his belongings. There was only one thing for it.

“Look, just get in the car, will you?” Tom groaned. “You'll have to come to school with me.”

Tom sat at his desk and looked down at Cleo, who was curled up asleep underneath his chair.

“Fun holiday?” Tom's classmate Jodie asked him.

“Oh, it was out of this world,” Tom said, smiling. “Literally.”

But he stopped smiling pretty quickly when he saw what Isis was doing. She was wandering round the room, fiddling with everything. She looked over at Tom.

“This is much more fun than being cooped up in your boring house,” she shouted above the noise of the chattering children.

Tom looked around. Nobody seemed to have noticed the fact that the globe had started spinning on its own, or that the cold tap had just turned itself on and off. But how long would that last?

He got out of his seat and went to the front of the room, pretending that he needed to sharpen his pencil. “Can't you just sit quietly somewhere and stop messing with things?” he whispered to Isis over the noise of the pencil sharpener.

When Tom returned to his seat, Isis sat down on the windowsill, crossed her bony, bandaged legs and started to leaf through the pages of a book. This time, the teacher, Mr Braintree, noticed.

“Shut that window, James!” Mr Braintree shouted to the boy sitting closest to Isis.

James looked at the window and screwed up his face. “But it is shut, sir.”

The teacher pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned. “There must be a draft. I'll have to report it to the caretaker. I can't have books flapping around. It's very distracting.”

For a full five minutes, Isis sat still. Tom started to relax, but then Mr Braintree began to take the register.

Isis jumped off the windowsill, shuffled stiffly to the front of the class and stood behind Mr Braintree.

Oh no! What is she going to do now?
Tom wondered.

When he noticed Isis drawing a rude cartoon of Anubis on the whiteboard, he faked a coughing fit to distract her.

Isis shuffled over to him and thumped him on the back.

In between coughs, Tom hissed, “Look, Isis, if you don't stop messing around, I won't help you find the next amulet. And then you'll never get into the Afterlife.”

Isis sat down at an empty desk with a deep sigh. She folded her arms and managed to keep still for the rest of the lesson.

Finally, the bell for morning break went. Tom pushed Cleo and Isis into the playground as quickly as possible.

“Aren't you coming to play footy?” Tom's friends Rav and Danny asked.

“Not today, guys,” Tom said, herding Isis and Cleo towards a quiet spot behind the art block. When they reached the secluded triangle of trees, he breathed a sigh of relief and sat down on the grass.

“At last! A break from your nonsense!” he said to Isis.

But Isis had already begun to climb one of the trees. She pulled herself onto a thick bough and sat with her legs dangling just above Tom's head.

“Oh, come on,” she laughed, wiggling her mouldy toes. “I was just having fun. Don't be such a spoilsport.”

Tom tugged at some clover in the grass. “I wonder where we'll go next time. Do you think Anubis will come back soon?”

“He'd better get a move on,” Isis said. “Princesses don't like being kept waiting.”

“He's a god. You shouldn't be so impatient,” Tom said.

But he had scarcely finished speaking when the playground beneath them started to tremble.

Tom scrambled to his feet. “Oh, you're kidding!” he cried. “Not here!”

Tom looked round to find the source of the rumbling. Sure enough, a huge doggy snout pushed through the leaves just above Isis's head.

Isis yelped as she was shoved off the bough by the giant, jackal-headed god. She landed with a thump on the ground next to Tom.

“Are you ready for your next quest?” Anubis boomed down at them.

His pointed ears poked through the leaves of the tree. Tom looked at Anubis's giant teeth, which were yellowing and sharp. Then he gazed into the god's angry red eyes and felt terror tingle along his spine.

In their first mission Tom had nearly met his death at the hands of Ancient Rome's fiercest gladiator. What deadly challenge would they face
this
time? Would he get out alive?

“Cat got your tongue?” Anubis asked, growling slightly.

“More like
dog
got your tongue,” Isis whispered at Tom's side.

Tom heard shouts from the playground.

He remembered that it was double Maths next. Snore-tastic! Even though the next challenge was bound to be dangerous, a trip through time sounded much better than fractions with Mr Braintree.

“You bet we're ready,” Tom said.

He took Isis's hand, and they each held one of Cleo's paws, making a circle. The wind started to whip up around them and Tom felt himself being pulled through the tunnels of space and time…

“Aargh!” Tom shouted, flailing his arms and legs as he plummeted to the ground.

Thump, thump, flump!

Tom, Isis and Cleo landed heavily in some long grass.

“Where are we?” Isis asked.

Tom peered at the towering trees that surrounded them. He could hear the sound of flowing water in the distance. “I've no idea,” he said. He pointed to Isis and Cleo. “Look! You've got your normal bodies back again!”

Cleo mewed, sat in the grass and started to lick the stripy fur on her outstretched hind leg.

Isis prodded her tummy through the rough woollen tunic she was now wearing. She beamed at Tom. “That's more like it!” she said. She stroked her plaits and fluttered the lashes of her kohled eyes.

Tom watched Isis's fingers play over the folds of the heavy grey cloak that hung from her shoulders. Her smile had vanished.

“What is this
ghastly
scratchy thing?” she cried. She sniffed it cautiously. “It smells like a wet dog. Eeuw.”

Examining the brooch that fastened his own cloak, Tom said, “See this?” He pointed to the tiny bronze serpents that twisted together in a beautiful tangle. “Dad's got this kind of thing in his museum. They're from the Early Middle Ages.”

Tom wasstruck by an idea. “Are you still wearing your ring?” he said.

Isis looked at her hand and nodded. “Good thinking,” she said. With her other hand, she touched the gold ring in the shape of a scarab. On it was a hieroglyph of her namesake, the Egyptian goddess Isis.

“Help us, oh Isis. Give us guidance, oh goddess of magic and children,” she said.

Out from the ring floated the silvery prophecy, which Tom read aloud to Isis.

The silvery words blew away on the breeze.

Tom scratched his head. “I've heard of the sword in the stone but not the other way round.”

Isis stroked a meowing Cleo. “Go on, Professor Smartypants. Tell me and Fluffpot all about it.”

Tom tried to hide his smile. “Well, back in the fifth century there was this boy called Arthur, right? He was the only person able to pull out a sword that was stuck in a lump of stone. That meant he was the true King of England.”

Isis folded her arms. “What a silly way to pick your ruler!” she scoffed.

“Stop interrupting!” Tom said. “So, King Arthur was really big on chivalry and honour. His knights were noble, brave men. The king chose them to fight for him. They wore some pretty cool armour, with colourful coats of arms on their tunics and cloaks.” He remembered the medieval chain mail on display in Dad's museum. “And they sat at a round table!”