Tut Read Online Free PDF Page A

I felt like I was two feet tall. If I had to be immortal, why couldn’t I have been eighteen? Or twenty-one? Why did I have to be fourteen? It was perpetual puberty.
    â€œKing Tut must have been a midget,” Seth said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Even Henry laughed.
    I balled my fists to keep from punching Seth. “Maybe he just liked the chair.” Why hadn’t I had a new one built when I was still pharaoh? Now the entire world thought I was short.
    â€œDoes this sound descriptive enough?” Henry asked, showing me his notebook. He’d written, T INY P HARAOH C HAIR across the top of the page.
    I grabbed the pencil and scratched out the word tiny .
    We moved on to the next object.
    â€œThe funerary chest,” the tour guide said, stepping in front of a curtain.
    He pulled aside the curtain, revealing a white marble chest with hieroglyphs etched along the sides. This was where my guts would have been neatly tucked away had I actually been mummified, which thank the gods I hadn’t.
    My scarab heart—that’s what I called the thing Osiris had stuck in my chest—started pounding. I’d found out early on that it’s what kept me immortal and gave me special powers from the gods as long as I kept it charged with energy. I tried to calm it.
    The tour guide flipped a light on, revealing the four Canopic jars inside, each with an image of my face carved on the top.
    A palm frond sprouted from under my feet. Seconds later, it was joined by five more.
    â€œWhoa!” Henry said. “What is up with that?”
    Everyone looked.
    What was up was the powers of Osiris. Osiris was the god of plants and bugs, and lucky me, I had special powers over plants and bugs. Things like palm fronds and roaches appearing out of nowhere. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Powers over plants and bugs. Big deal. But I’ve found some clever ways to make use of the powers, like mind tricks to make people forget the crazy things that happened around me. And then there was the way I could create swarms of gnats around people who irritated me. Like Seth.
    Normally I had control over my powers. Perfect control.
    I took a deep breath. Tried to stay calm. “What do you mean?” I asked. And then I incanted my memory spell. It struck faster than a viper. Everyone’s face clouded over and resettled as their short-term memories were adjusted.
    Henry picked up one of the leaves. “Hey, cool. They added plants to the exhibit. You think these are the kind they used to have back in ancient Egypt?”
    â€œThey’re exactly the same kind,” the creepy tour guide said. He was only inches away. “Aren’t they?” he asked me.
    Uh, that was weird.
    â€œHow would I know?” I said. “It’s not like I’ve been to Egypt.”
    The tour guide only narrowed his eyes.
    â€œI’ll add it to our report,” Henry said, dropping the palm frond and writing in his notebook. He’d titled the page, D EATH B OX WITH C REEPY L ITTLE B OX P EOPLE I NSIDE . It did sum up the funerary chest pretty well.
    The tour guide stepped away. “Our next item is new to the exhibit, recently uncovered in Egypt just outside the tomb. We’re honored to be the first to display what surely must be the most valuable of the King Tut treasures.”
    This got even my attention. I’d always figured my sarcophagus was the most valuable thing in the exhibit. The tour guide moved into the next room, and the whole class followed.
    â€œIt’s probably another stupid sculpture of King Tut’s ugly face,” Seth said, like he was one to talk. “He must’ve been the most stuck-up pharaoh in existence to have so many pictures of himself around.”
    Not the most stuck-up, but definitely one of the best looking, which was kind of the reason there were so many images of me. Except none of the artists could get me just right. Either my eyes were too