The Eye of the Serpent (5 page)

Ethan looked at him. ‘He found a tomb, Alec. We're not sure yet, but it could be exactly what he was looking for.'

‘You're joking! But that would be . . . an incredible find!'

‘Well, sure, the father of Tutankhamun. At the moment we're doing all we can to play it down – at least until we know exactly what it is we've got. I've contacted an expert on hieroglyphics, some Frenchman called Duval. He's due to arrive in the next week or so. Hopefully he'll be able to tell us more. Unfortunately Will and Tom were the only two men in the tomb who had any kind of idea about that stuff. But in his journal Will says you know more than any kid he's ever met.
So I thought it would be good to bring you back on board and . . .'

‘And what?' asked Alec.

‘And maybe seeing you might just jog something in Will's mind. You might strike a chord. You up for that?'

Alec nodded. ‘Sure,' he said. ‘I'll give it my best shot.'

‘That's the spirit.' Ethan grinned at him. ‘You know, I get a good feeling about you, Alec. I figure you and me, we're gonna be pals.'

They seemed to be heading deeper and deeper into the desert and the horizon had that kind of shimmering, melting quality that happens whenever rays of light refract in fierce heat. Alec reminded himself that, beautiful as this landscape was, it could also be deadly. He had heard countless stories of people who had been stranded out here. Very few of the stories had happy endings.

After driving for perhaps half an hour, they saw the outline of a small village on the horizon. Ethan headed into it and brought the Crossley to a halt outside a big, dilapidated whitewashed building.

‘This place used to be a governor's residence,' he explained. ‘These days it's a hospital.' He
opened his door and climbed out. Alec followed his example. They walked towards the entrance of the building – a once grand portico supported by rows of crumbling stone columns. Before they stepped into the shade, Ethan paused and put a hand on Alec's shoulder.

‘You'd better prepare yourself, kid,' he said quietly. ‘William is . . . well, let's just say he's not the man you'll remember.'

And with that he led Alec up the short flight of steps to the entrance.

A NUBIAN NURSE, CLAD
in a dazzlingly white starched uniform, led them along corridors and up a flight of wooden stairs. They crossed a landing, their feet echoing on marble tiles, and finally came to a halt at a large mahogany door. The nurse reached into her pocket and withdrew a key, which she used to unlock it.

Alec was surprised by this and a thought ran through his mind:
What kind of a hospital locks its patients in?

The nurse handed Ethan the key. ‘Please secure the door when you leave,' she told him in fluent English, ‘and hand the key in at reception.'

Ethan nodded. ‘Has there been any improvement since I was last here?' he asked.

She gave him a sad smile and shook her head; then she turned and walked back along the corridor.

Ethan took a grip on the door handle, then paused and looked at Alec. ‘Ready?' he asked.

Alec nodded, but he was now feeling horribly apprehensive. He really didn't know what to expect. Ethan swung the door open and stepped into the room, removing his hat as he did so. Alec followed, closing the door behind him.

His first thought was that they had come to the wrong room. Over by the far wall a man was sitting in a bath chair, but this was an old fellow of perhaps seventy or eighty years. He was staring intently at the floor, as though watching something, but when Alec followed the direction of his gaze, there appeared to be nothing there but the bare tiles. Alec noticed that behind the man, the room's single window was closed, the heavy wooden shutters secured with a stout padlock.

The absence of any fresh air made it very oppressive in there and Alec immediately felt beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead, yet
the man had a thick woollen blanket over his lap as though he felt a chill. Alec turned to direct a puzzled look at Ethan, but the American's grim expression made him look once again at the old man: a shock went through him as he realized that this was indeed Uncle Will, but changed dramatically since Alec had last seen him.

He had been a tall, rangy, dark-complexioned fellow of fifty, with broad shoulders and striking grey eyes. The man who sat there now seemed somehow shrunken, as though the hot sun had shrivelled his flesh and bones. His formerly dark brown hair was now a mop of snow-white wisps, and his moustache was of the same December hue. Worst of all were the eyes – weak and watery, the colour drained from them; and they seemed to be staring fixedly at something only they could see.

‘William!' cried Ethan with forced jocularity. ‘I've brought somebody to see you, an old friend.'

Uncle Will lifted his head slightly and those dead eyes surveyed Alec for a moment, but showed no sign of recognition.

Ethan guided Alec forward until he was standing right in front of his uncle. Alec looked down
at Will's hands, which were arranged like claws on his blanket. They were shaking as though he was in the grip of a terrible fever.

‘Look, Will,' persisted Ethan. ‘It's your nephew, Alec. He's travelled down from Cairo to see you. You remember Alec, don't you?'

Uncle Will's eyes continued to stare up at his nephew and he said the name ‘Alec' in a flat monotone. Ethan nudged Alec, prompting him to respond.

‘Hello, Uncle,' said Alec. ‘It's . . . good to see you again. I'm . . . sorry you haven't been well.'

‘Alec,' repeated Uncle Will, but once again it was just something spoken parrot-fashion. There was no trace of warmth in that croak of a voice. Like the pale, watery eyes, it seemed completely devoid of life.

‘Alec's come to help out with the dig,' said Ethan, crouching down to put himself on the same level as his old friend. ‘I know he's been of great assistance to you in the past and I can sure use his skills. I don't know if you recall, but you mentioned him several times in your journal. You said you were completely at a loss to decipher a message and something Alec said gave you the key to it? Do you remember writing that?'

‘Key,' whispered Uncle Will and his grey head nodded, but whether this was in answer to what had just been said was anybody's guess, because the head kept nodding slowly long after it was appropriate.

‘Father sends his regards,' said Alec. ‘I'm sure he'll be over to visit you when he gets the opportunity. Coates is with me too. You . . . you remember Coates, don't you? The valet?'

‘Coates.' Again the same dull croak. It was as if the words were meaningless to Uncle Will and he was just acting the role of an echo.

‘Yes, that's right. He came with me on the last two trips. You must remember him. He didn't know I was coming to see you, otherwise I'm sure he . . .'

Alec felt ridiculous talking like this and getting no response. He looked at Ethan apologetically.

Ethan nodded, understanding, but was clearly not ready to give up just yet. He put a hand on Uncle Will's shoulder. ‘Alec's joining us at an exciting time,' he said. ‘We've almost cleared out the last of the artefacts from the antechamber. Any day now we'll be ready to break the seals on the door to the tomb.'

Something happened then. Uncle Will
reacted. His eyes widened and a kind of manic realization seemed to come into them.

‘Break them?' he said. ‘Break the . . . seals?'

‘Yes.' Ethan was delighted to have elicited such a response. ‘It won't be long now. Everything you and Tom worked for will be—'

‘No!' gasped Uncle Will. ‘Don't.
Don't
.'

‘Don't what?' asked Ethan, puzzled.

‘Go in. Don't. He's not there. Already . . . out. Already out.'

‘Who's already out, William?' Ethan was staring into Uncle Will's face, trying to fathom his meaning.

‘He's out. Out. I've seen him. The serpent's eye. We . . . we removed it.' Uncle Will's eyes were now staring with a shocking intensity and they suddenly seemed to fasten on Alec, as if recognition had just set in. He reached up and grabbed his nephew's wrist with a strength that made the boy wince. ‘Go home!' he bellowed, his voice rising in power. ‘You shouldn't have come, Alec. You shouldn't have come!'

‘William, you're hurting the boy!' Ethan was trying to prise Uncle Will's fingers free of Alec's wrist, but despite his apparent frailty, he seemed to have discovered an incredible energy and was
now talking non-stop, virtually shouting the words into Alec's face.

‘He seized the dragon, that serpent of old, the Devil or Apophis, and chained him up for a thousand years! He threw him into an abyss, shutting and sealing it over him, so that he might seduce the nations no more till the thousand years were over! After that he must be let loose for a short while!'

‘Uncle, please, stop, you're hurting me!' Alec struggled to pull away from his uncle, but he hung on tenaciously and even the brawny American couldn't seem to break his grip.

‘He's out, Alec, don't you see? He's out, and now everything changes – nothing is ever the same again. Tom knows, Tom was there, Tom knows better than anyone what he's capable of. I've seen him, Alec! I've seen what he can do . . .' Then, all at once, Uncle Will's voice trailed away and he seemed to lose all his strength. He let go of Alec and flopped back into the bath chair, his mouth hanging open. The vacant look came back into his eyes and Alec saw that they were filling with tears. ‘Out,' he whispered. ‘He's out. I've seen him.'

He went back to his silent study of the floor.

Alec and Ethan stood for a moment in silence, staring down at the old, old man in the chair. The sudden transformation had startled them. Alec felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

‘Are you all right?' Ethan asked him at last.

Alec nodded. He rubbed his wrist, where already a ring of dark bruises was appearing. ‘I'm fine,' he said. ‘I'm not sure what happened there. He seemed to realize it was me at the end.'

‘I don't know what got into him – he's never been like this before. What was that stuff he was saying – about a dragon or something?'

‘I think it's from the Bible,' Alec told him. ‘Except he said . . .'

‘What?'

‘He said Apophis. The Egyptian serpent god of the underworld. I'm not much of a Bible reader but I'm pretty sure Apophis doesn't figure anywhere. And there was something about . . . a serpent's eye?'

Ethan frowned. ‘I'm real sorry, kid. I had no idea he'd get all riled up like that. Guess I shouldn't have brought you here.'

‘No, that's all right. I'm glad I saw him. Really.' Alec felt badly shaken by what had happened. It was hard to believe that the wretched, wasted
creature in the bath chair was the same man he had spent so many happy hours with. ‘What can have happened to him, Mr Wade?'

Ethan shook his head. ‘I wish I knew,' he said.

He turned and crouched beside Uncle Will again. ‘We'll be on our way now,' he said quietly. ‘Maybe we'll come and see you again soon, huh?'

Uncle Will said nothing. He was still gazing at the floor and his hands had begun to shake once more. Alec felt so sorry for him – and so totally powerless to do anything to help. He had retreated back to the world he had been lost in when they first entered the room.

Ethan shrugged in defeat. He stood up and led the way back to the door. Just before Alec followed him out of the room, he glanced back at his uncle.

What could make a man change so completely? Whatever had happened to him, it must have been terrifying.

With a sigh, Alec watched Ethan lock the door behind them. ‘Is that really necessary?' he asked.

‘I'm afraid so. He's . . . unpredictable. They're afraid he might harm himself.'

They began to retrace their steps along the corridor.

‘Is there no hope for him?' asked Alec.

Ethan's face was expressionless. ‘I'm sorry, kid. The doctors who've seen him say he's a hopeless case.'

‘Perhaps if we got him back to Cairo – or even London?' suggested Alec.

‘You've seen the condition he's in. I doubt he'd be strong enough to make such a journey.'

Alec rubbed his bruised wrist. ‘For a minute there he
seemed
strong enough,' he observed.

They dropped off the key at reception and made their way out onto the street. An inquisitive crowd of natives had gathered around the Crossley and were poking and prodding at it, as though convinced it had just dropped in from outer space. However, they fell back obediently to allow Ethan and Alec to climb into their seats. Some of them reached into their pockets and started brandishing homemade ‘relics'.