Mummy Fanfic by Katie Sullivan
Rated PG-13 for innuendo, mild cussing and mature themes
Disclaimer: Meela/Anck-su-Namun, Imhotep, and all other characters besides Jeffrey are (c) Universal and are used without claim to copyright as a fan tribute. I maketh no money from this fic. Sueth me not.
Chapter Five: Lock and Key
Back at Saqqara, the other students were surprised by the Curator's dramatic change in attitude. Meela had gone from star pupil to crazy outcast and now back to number-one student again. It couldn't be that he actually believed her...could it? There were a number of sordid rumors going around campus about what exactly Meela had done over the weekend to change the Curator's mind, but she ignored them. There were more important things to do besides protect her reputation.
Both the Curator and Meela wracked their brains for leads to follow in their search for Imhotep. One dead end after another did nothing to discourage them. Three thousand years of cover-ups, superstition and history wouldn't unravel overnight, after all.
Meela spent all her spare time at the library over the following weeks, systematically going over every volume on the shelves. More often than not she fell asleep at a corner table with her head resting on a thick book. Her dreams always took her back to her life as Anck-su-Namun in an odd swirl of memory and fantasy. Imhotep was a frequent visitor in those dreams, and on those occasions she woke up with a serene smile on her face and rejuvenated determination.
So it was that Meela found herself alone in the library late one evening, poring over a yellowed manuscript on ancient Egyptian funerary practices. The librarians had given up kicking her out at closing time; she protested too loudly. Instead they let her stay as long as she liked, provided she shelved her own materials when she was done. Since she knew her way around as well as the librarians by that point, this was a welcome compromise.
Meela's eyes burned from hours of close reading, but she pressed on. Judging by the layer of dust on this volume, it hadn't been taken off the shelf in years. She didn't know why; it was a fascinating account of Egyptian burial customs. This chapter was discussing the lost necropolis of Hamunaptra without blathering on about lost gold like most did. She felt she was on the verge of some important discovery, if only she could--
"Meela Pasha?" a baritone voice interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up with a jolt, dropping her pencil. A towering man with large, piercing eyes materialized out of the shadows, stepping into the pool of light created by her small lamp. He was swathed in robes of a rich crimson, contrasting and complimenting the dark chocolate of his skin. The most alarming thing was the heavy scimitar thrust through his belt. His hand wasn't on the handle, but judging by his well-built physique he wouldn't have any trouble putting it to use.
Meela stood up and backed away. Blind fear quickly melted into angry defensiveness, and some previously-unknown instinct made her adopt a fighting stance. She had no training in martial arts (that she remembered) but the urge to swing out and kick the intruder in the head was so strong, and she felt so irrationally confident that she could do so, that she surmised Anck-su-Namun had been instructed in such matters. "Who are you, how did you get in here, and what do you want?" she snarled, her voice startlingly loud in the silent library.
"Who I am and how I got here are of no importance," his deep voice rumbled. "You are Meela Pasha?"
"You seek to raise a force of darkness from ancient Egypt?"
Her frown of defiance shifted into one of annoyance. "Imhotep is not a force of darkness," she spat.
"Whatever he once was, he is now bound to the law of the Hom-Dai."
"What do you know--or care--about Imhotep and the Hom-Dai?" Contemplating the details of that curse sickened her heart.
His stance infuriatingly relaxed, the intruder smiled ever so slightly. "I represent a group with similar goals to yours."
"You seek Imhotep?"
"We seek one bound by a similar curse, one who asked too much of the gods and was both cursed and granted power...enough power to conquer or destroy the world."
She lowered an eyebrow.
"Meela Pasha, I believe we can be of help to each other. You seek Imhotep. We seek the Scorpion King."
"The who what?" she said, not believing her ears. "He was a myth...wasn't he?"
"Did you not believe, just a short time ago, that living mummies were a myth?" he asked with a sardonic twist of his full lips. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio--"
"--than are dreamt of in your philosophy," she finished. "Hamlet, Act One." If this stranger was a crackpot, at least he was a well-read one. She adopted a slightly less guarded posture. "You're saying the legend of the Scorpion King is fact?"
"It is indeed. And if we can find the Bracelet of Anubis by 193x, the Year of the Scorpion, we can raise Anubis' Army and conquer the world."
"You're leaving out a rather important detail, aren't you?" she asked. "If I remember my legends correctly, to take command of the Army you must first kill the Scorpion King."
He nodded. "A task impossible for a mere human. But for one with the powers of the Hom-Dai at his disposal..."
Her eyes widened. "You're saying...?"
A devious smile twisted his dark features.
The possibilities flooded her brain, and a similar smile took over her face, as well. "I think we might be of use to each other, after all..."
"I thought you'd see it that way." His grin revealed a line of stunningly white teeth.
She held out a hand, and he shook it with an almost painfully strong grip.
"I am Meela Pasha," she confirmed her identity. "Formerly known as Anck-su-Namun."
"And I am Lock-Nah."