Read Online Tut by P. J. Hoover - Free Book Online

couldn’t have been the Internet. Even though it was a huge pain in my butt, I’d removed all references to my present-day self. Or, at least two of the shabtis had done it at my command; Captain Otis and Captain Otto were master hackers.
    â€œThat new girl, Tia,” Henry said. He made himself at home, dropping his backpack on Gil’s favorite chair. His collection of Sharpies spilled out onto the floor.
    A small scratching noise came from the closet. The shabtis had to know to stay hidden, didn’t they?
    â€œShe told you where I live?” I said. How did not only Seth Cooper, but some girl I’d never met before yesterday, know my address? It wasn’t even on Google Maps.
    â€œSure. Why? Is your address secret or something?” Henry started flipped through the King Tut book. It had so many sticky notes at the top that it looked like an accordion.
    â€œOf course not,” I said. “Anyway, this isn’t the best time.”
    â€œIt’s never a good time for you,” Henry said. “Let me guess. You have other plans?”
    Talking to my cat about a mythical knife wasn’t something I could share. “I was just about to eat dinner.”
    Henry pulled a couple of grease-stained bags out of his backpack. “I thought of that, so I brought dinner. That way we can crank out this project.”
    â€œYou got White Castle?” With revenge on my mind, my appetite was extinct.
    â€œThere is no substitute,” Henry said, putting up his hand to high-five me.
    I did a halfhearted high-five in return.
    â€œI almost stayed at White Castle to eat, but they must have some kind of insect problem,” Henry said. He glanced around the town house at the scarab beetles running rampant, but managed to stop himself from saying anything about them. “Once they clear up the bug problem, we could go eat there sometime.”
    These were the kind of comments that made me feel weird. I mean, a year from now, Henry would be fifteen and I’d still be fourteen. Five years from now, Henry would be nineteen and—yep, that’s right—I’d still look fourteen.
    â€œSounds like fun,” I heard myself say. It was like a strange part of my brain controlled my voice. I could stop it most of the time, but every once in a while, it would let a comment like that out.
    â€œGreat,” Henry said. But his eyes weren’t on the bag of hamburgers. They roved the room, scanning the walls and tables and … well, pretty much every other bit of space. “What’s up with all this stuff?”
    It’s not like I was a hoarder or anything. But after three thousand years I’d gathered my fair share of souvenirs. There were fans and statues and amulets everywhere. Hanging from the walls, resting on every table, stuffed in the drawers.
    Horus opened his mouth, and for a split second I thought he was going to talk. Which would have been a disaster. So I kicked a scarab beetle, and like any good cat, Horus followed it and pounced.
    â€œJust treasures,” I said, like it was no big deal.
    â€œA feather fan collection?” Henry said.
    â€œThose are real ostrich feathers.”
    So some of the stuff was junk. And it’s not like I got the shabtis to fan me or anything. Well, not too often. But there were some cool things, too. And important things. Like my Book of the Dead . Which was still sitting in the middle of the coffee table next to the King Tut book. I prayed Henry wouldn’t ask about it. And then I prayed Henry would leave.
    He didn’t. Instead, he grabbed a sword off the wall. “Are these real teeth?” He held it up, and the teeth hanging from it rattled together.
    I nodded. “From Africa. It’s really old, so be careful with—”
    Before I had a chance to finish, Henry swung it around ninja style, jumped, and landed a few feet away, nearly swiping Horus’s tail off.
    Horus whirled on him and