The Diamond of Ahm Shere

By Miss Becky

Disclaimer: Stephen Sommers owns the characters and situations of The Mummy. Maybe one day I will be so lucky.

Summary:  Three years ago, Jonathan was entrusted with the diamond of Ahm Shere. Now it has been stolen, and the consequences are dreadful. Jonathan and the O'Connells must race to prevent an old evil from arising, and a new one from claiming an old friend.

Rating: R.  Here be much angst.

Note:  This story is a sequel to "The Fourth Side of the Pyramid." In that story, Jonathan wondered what his task was in life, and learned from Ardeth Bay that the diamond he took from the temple in Ahm Shere may contain dangerous powers. He promised to guard it and in so doing discovered his own destiny.

This is for everyone who has written me – ellbee, Aulizia, MArcher, and too many others to name. Your encouragement and support are the reason I keep writing. For Jen, my partner in obsession and wonderful beta reader, who gifted me with the best mail I have ever received in my life. And for Elspeth, who taught me to love what I do and do it well.

– Becky

*******

Chapter 1

The Diamond is Stolen

Hamunaptra

1933

The dirigible rose into the night sky, and the two men stared at it until it was no longer visible. They wore tattered red robes and sat sullenly under the watchful eye of their captors; they had surrendered their arms reluctantly and awaited word of their fate in silent fear.

"Who was that?" asked one man, barely moving his lips. The words of his speech scarcely registered on the night air.

"I don't know," said his companion. "But it is not O'Connell. I saw him in the museum."

"The brother?"

"Perhaps."

"Allies of the Med-jai. They are strong enemies."

"Yes." The second man looked about the dig site, sparing his guards only a cursory glance. He had very dark eyes and a stern mustache. "But it is said that the strongest will fall the furthest, and the earth will tremble with the impact." He let his gaze linger for a moment on the leader of the Med-jai, and his lip curled. "You will see. They will all see."

The first man said nothing to this. Indeed, no words were needed.

****

For three years, Jonathan kept his secret well. He hid the diamond of Ahm Shere in a room in the basement level of the house, in what was the old servants' quarters. He kept the room locked at all times and carried the key on a ring with his housekeys.

Most days he completely forgot about it.

Then one day his eye would fall on the key and he would truly see it. Or the fickle English sun would reflect off a distant glass window in a certain way. He would remember then, and always at these times he would go very still, his hands falling to his sides, an enigmatic smile crossing his face. Many people asked about that smile, but none of them ever received an answer.

So the months passed.

Evelyn became head of the British Museum. Alex learned Arabic and hieratic and rugby. Rick – well, Rick managed to stay very busy doing nothing all day.

And Jonathan? Very little changed. Why should it? He was popular in London society, considered something of an expert on Ancient Egypt, and always good for a story or two. He never lacked for invitations, and he spent most evenings out. The cabbies knew him on sight, they were so accustomed to his drunken, late-night patronage.

Sometimes, however, he was forced to turn these invitations down. At regular intervals he returned to Egypt, always going alone, for Evy could not take time away from the museum. Alex wanted to go, but Evy would not let him miss any school. Rick showed vague interest in the trip, but always came up with a last-minute excuse not to go, and eventually Jonathan stopped asking.

Occasionally he made the journey for business purposes on Evy's request, doing something or acquiring something for the museum, but mostly he went for himself. Alone.

He had a flat there, a place to stay that was all his own. He walked the streets of Cairo and studied in the dusty library that had once been Evy's domain. He caught up with old friends and made new ones.

He went into the desert and visited his friends there. He was the first one to see the semi-permanent home of the Med-jai, and to spend time among them. It was Jonathan who came back from one trip with the casually dropped news that not only was Ardeth Bay married for quite some time, he had children of his own – twins, a boy and a girl. Given this new knowledge, it was suddenly not so surprising that the Med-jai chieftain had helped them fight so hard for Alex.

"Well, who would have thought?" Rick mused, obviously pleased.

"We never bothered to ask," Jonathan said, a bit stiffly.

He felt a strange kinship with the Med-jai these days. He identified with them. They guarded Hamunaptra and Ahm Shere, and he guarded the diamond. They protected mankind from evil, and so did he. Theirs was a thankless task, and so was his.

In his more honest moments, he admitted to an envy of O'Connell. Rick was a Med-jai. He was not.

****

In the spring of 1936, three years after Ahm Shere, Alex turned eleven and Jonathan was invited to a party in Oxford. He packed a bag for an overnight stay and took a bus. There was an accident in Headington, and he ended up arriving over two hours late; by then the party was in full swing.

His hostess showed him to his room, where he changed into a nicer suit and unpacked his bag. He wandered downstairs, gratefully accepted the glass of whiskey thrust into his hand by a passing waiter, and joined the party.

****

Some time later – he really had no idea when – a stranger joined him on the settee where he sat. The man had dark hair and a stern mustache, and he offered Jonathan a full glass. "To your health."

Jonathan took the glass and raised it. "I'll drink to that." He knocked back half the whiskey in one long swallow.

"My name is Khalid Hassan," said the man. His accent was strange, one Jonathan could not place. "And you are Jonathan Carnahan."

Jonathan nodded. "At your service." He squinted at the man. "How did you know that?"

Khalid Hassan smiled thinly. "I am planning a trip to Egypt. I ask everyone, what can you tell me about that land. They all say, I know nothing; the one you should talk to is Jonathan Carnahan."

"Well!" Jonathan grinned, absurdly pleased. It was a nice change to have a good reputation, for once.

"So," Khalid Hassan said, "what can you tell me about Egypt?"

He opened his mouth to ask why the man was making such a journey, when Khalid stood. "Wait. Please excuse my manners. First let me get you a new drink." He plucked the half-full glass from Jonathan's hand and moved over to the bar.

"I'll just wait here!" Jonathan felt his smile widen. Oh yes, it was nice to be sought after.

****

Khalid Hassan, as it turned out, was going to Egypt to find his family. His father was English and his mother was Egyptian. "Like yourself, I understand." The mother had recently died, and Khalid wished to travel to his mother's home and meet her people.

But he was worried, Khalid said, about some of the things he had heard about Egypt. Stories about mummy's curses and such horrors. Were they true?

Jonathan, well in his cups by now, sobered slightly. "No," he said gravely. "Not true at all."

Khalid Hassan visibly relaxed. "I didn't think so. I thought it was just my mother telling stories. I knew there was no such thing as cursed mummies or golden books or Med-jai."

"Oh," Jonathan said, waving a hand at his new friend. "The Med-jai are real."

Khalid's eyes widened. "They are?"

"Sure! I know some of them myself."

"But— I've heard they are fierce warriors who would kill a man for looking upon them."

"No, no." Jonathan laughed and tossed off the rest of his drink. "They're not so bad once you get to know them."

"Rather like everyone else, I suppose," Khalid murmured thoughtfully.

"That's right," he said, liking the analogy. He looked at the table beside the settee, seeking a place to put his tumbler, but the tabletop was already crowded with empty glasses. For a moment he stared at these, boggled by the sight. Were they all his?

"I'm glad you are here to reassure me," said Khalid Hassan, "but nonetheless I think I will watch my back on the streets of Cairo."

"Yes, you should," Jonathan said, thinking of all the street crime in that city. "But the Med-jai don't live in Cairo. You don't have to worry about them. Only ordinary pickpockets and thieves." He wondered what his new friend would say if he said he had once been a very good pickpocket, and grinned blearily at the response he imagined he would get.

"Then where are they?" asked Khalid. He held a half-empty glass in both hands, much as he had all night. Perhaps some of those empty glasses on the table belonged to him, Jonathan thought, although he could not remember Khalid ever actually finishing a drink.

"Jonathan?"

He started, then remembered a question had been asked. He clapped Khalid on the shoulder and told the man that unless he strayed far to the south, near the cliffs of the Upper Nile, he would be safe from any of the fearsome Med-jai.

His friend grinned at him. "That is good news."

"About those street thieves, though—"

Khalid's smile seemed to settle on his face. "I am familiar with the ways of thieves, my friend. Do not worry about me."

"Ah, well, that's good, that's good." Jonathan stood up, swaying in a wide arc as he gained his feet. "I do believe I've had too much to drink, old chap."

"I am sorry if I have kept you up," Khalid said solicitously.

Jonathan glanced around the room. Only a few people were left in the salon, most of them with a glass clutched in one hand, discoursing on some subject to another person who also clung to a tumbler of liquor. He wondered what time it was. The thought of heading upstairs, finding his guest room, falling into the bed and sleeping until noon suddenly seemed very appealing.  "Well, bon voyage on your journey," he slurred. "Wish you the best."

"Thank you," said Khalid. "You have been very helpful, Jonathan Carnahan."

"Yes, yes." He turned and headed for the doorway, hoping he remembered which room was his. It would be terribly embarrassing if he were to stumble into the wrong one.

****

The next morning he woke with a pounding headache and the sinking feeling he had done something he should not have.

Which was strange, because all he could remember doing was sitting and talking to someone.

****

When the cab dropped him off at the house, it was nearly three in the afternoon. He tried the front door, sighed theatrically on finding it locked, and beat on the door for a moment.

No one answered his summons, of course.

"For heaven's sake." He let his bag thump to the pavement and dug into his pocket for his keys, wondering what they would do if he decided one day not to come home at all. How long before any of them missed him?

He put the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door. Alex was in the foyer, obviously having come at hearing the knocking, and Jonathan felt a wave of affection for his nephew. At least somebody cared. He bent down to retrieve his overnight bag and that was when he saw it.

The key was on a different ring.

"Hi, Uncle Jon! We were wondering if you were ever going to come home."

He was rooted to the spot, frozen with horror. The key, the one he always kept on the ring with his housekey, was now on the ring with his car key. It had moved.

"Uncle Jon?"

Can you do that? If you cannot, tell me now, and we will keep it with us.

I can do that.

"Oh, no." He seized the keyring and held it up, as though the key might suddenly materialize in its proper place if he only he shook it hard enough.

"What is it, Uncle Jon?" Alex stood before him now, sounding rather alarmed.

Jonathan looked at him, an eleven-year old boy who already knew more about the evils in the world than did most grown men. "Oh, no. This can't be happening."

He ran past Alex and into the house. From somewhere within he heard Rick talking, but he did not listen to the words. He ran for the back stairwell, the one leading downstairs. He ran down the steps so fast he almost tripped and tumbled to the floor.

"Uncle Jon! What's wrong?"

He ignored Alex, as he ignored everything else, even his own safety. Nothing else mattered.

Halfway down the hall, he saw it. The door that had always been firmly shut was now standing wide open.

"No!" He sprinted the rest of the way, his heart beating wildly in terror.

The small servant's bedroom had been ransacked. And the diamond, the diamond he was supposed to guard with his life, was gone. Jonathan fell to his knees amid the destruction. "No," he whispered.

Alex touched his shoulder. "What's wrong, Uncle Jon?"

"It's gone," he whispered. "Gone. They took it."

"Took what?" asked Alex.

"The diamond," Jonathan said dully. "They took the diamond of Ahm Shere."

****

Rick O'Connell didn't know what to say. They sat in the kitchen, at the table where they ate most of their meals. Evy felt the large dining room was too formal, and Rick was inclined to agree, so the kitchen was the one place where they came together as a family.

He stared at his brother-in-law and felt a noose slide about his neck. He was being dragged forward, pulled against his will into something he did not want, and he had the terrible feeling that nothing he did would matter. Whether he wanted this or not, he was about to be swept up by events beyond his control.

He didn't know where to begin. He was stunned to learn of the secret Jonathan had kept from them all this time, and yet, not a little proud of the restraint shown by his normally tactless relative. But none of that mattered now, did it?

And he was alarmed, too, and not a little angry. The diamond of Ahm Shere! Jonathan should have guarded it better, he should have kept a closer watch. Something that serious shouldn't be locked away and forgotten about. Obviously the thieves had stolen Jonathan's keys from the guest room at the party, used them to enter the house and search, then returned the keys. He was furious to think of strangers prowling around his house at night. Where had they looked? Had they watched him and Evy sleep? Had they stood over Alex's bed?

How close had his family been to death last night?

"We thought you'd sold the diamond," Evy said. "It's what you told us."

"Well, I lied," Jonathan said miserably. "It's what I always do when I'm not losing important diamonds."

"But we don't know that it contains any powers," Alex said, trying to be helpful.

"Someone sure thinks it does, though," Rick said.

"We should assume it does," Evy agreed. "Until we can prove otherwise."

"And how are we going to prove that?" Jonathan asked. "Without the diamond, we can't prove anything."

"Maybe they only wanted it to sell it," Alex offered hopefully. He was clearly proud to have been included in this adult conversation, and determined to be useful.

"Who are they?" Rick mused.

At the same time, Evy asked, "What are you going to do next, Jonathan?"

"I have to tell--" Jonathan broke off, and sudden horror widened his eyes. He dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly.

Not liking this one bit, Rick leaned in. "What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"The man," Jonathan moaned into his hands. "The man at the party. He was asking me--" He took a deep breath and lifted his head. He swallowed hard. "He was asking me about Egypt. About the Med-jai."

Rick looked at Evy. That feeling of helplessness, of being dragged down by a cold undertow, had at last seized him completely. There was no turning back now.

"Well," he said, trying not to sound as though he was forcing the words out, "I guess we're going to Egypt."

********