Chapter 1

So, they'd had their little fun, they'd had their adventure. And he was sure the moment he lay down in that box, the fun would be over for him.

Back when he was alive, Ahkmenrah had never been overly fond of enclosed spaces. In fact, he'd had his tomb made especially airy to nullify that. Not that that had helped back when he was in Cambridge... once he was there, he was at their mercy. He had them to thank for his new fear of the dark. Once, he'd thought of his sarcophagus as a place of rest; now, it brought back nothing but memories of being trapped.

He knew that sunrise was only fifteen minutes away, and he understood he shouldn't be outside his exhibit -or coffin-once daylight appeared. Nevertheless, he could not physically pry his feet off the ground; he could not force himself to approach his dark, lonely prison.

A voice roused him. "Pharaoh? Sorry, but Teddy's helping round up the others. Time to get back to your exhibit."

Slowly, Ahkmenrah murmured, "Of course, Guardian."

It felt like he was marching to his grave (which, honestly, he was) as, somehow, his body forced him closer and closer. This was it, he knew it-his last moments of freedom. Must it end?

At last, the night guard noticed his hesitation. "Are you ok, pharaoh?"

"I am quite well." In a last, desperate preservation of his freedom, he asked, "Will you be needing my assistance tomorrow, Guardian?"

"Um, I don't think so. Thank you, though."

This time, Ahkmenrah couldn't help but sigh. So this really was it-if he wouldn't be needed tomorrow...

"So, see you tomorrow night?"

"Pardon?" The pharaoh stared at the night guard, stunned. Why would he be released tomorrow if he weren't expected to offer his services?

"Yeah, tomorrow night? You know, when you come back to life and all?.." Now it was Larry's turn to stare. Why was Ahkmenrah looking at him as if he'd spoken in Yiddish? Unless... "You do realize I'm letting you out again, right?

The young man stared a few seconds too long before nodding hesitantly.

"Wait. Is that why you won't budge? You're afraid of getting locked up again?" As Ahkmenrah nodded, Larry wanted to smack himself-he should have realized the pharaoh wouldn't be eager to waltz back to his sarcophagus. Not after having been locked up in it for so long. "Well, guess what: from now on, I'm letting you out every night, like I do for everyone else. New night guard, new rules. Unless you're planning on taking over the world or something," he added half-jokingly. Could the pharaoh do that with his tablet?

Ahkmenrah just stared at him for a few more seconds as he realized what Larry had just been implying. "I assure you, I do not have any intention of questioning your authority, Guardian."

"Uh, ok, then." Awkward silence followed, until Ahkmenrah decided to stop putting off the inevitable. It was nearly dawn.

The night guard seemed almost reluctant as he stared down at the young ruler; after all, it felt counter intuitive to see someone so obviously alive voluntarily climb into their own sarcophagus. Not to mention Ahkmenrah looked so young, despite being over four thousand years old. With a final promise to release him the next night, Larry pulled the stone lid over the anxious, youthful face.

Surrounded once again by solid darkness, Ahkmenrah could only panic as the first real conversation he'd enjoyed in over fifty years dissolved into the nothingness. He waited for the sunrise, for death to come. Yes, there it was: the painful, inevitable tug of life fleeing from him yet again, that marked daylight's beginning. At least now, he had something decent to remember as he fought to stay conscious-the guardian and his son, running with them, a gulp of fresh air, even the cold! As his breaths grew quicker and shallower, his last conscious thought, almost like a mantra, was:

Do not let them near the tablet. Keep it safe. Even as it costs you your freedom.