The Hound of Kemamonit

  Chapter ten

  Imhotep's papyrus journals of his days at the City of Magic, learning to be a sorcerer, read like one of the juvenile adventure novels that were so popular in this era.

  I started to comprehend that he and Semiramis must have been quite young when they were studying magic.

  I suddenly realized that I had forgotten about this particular aspect of the past. People did not live long sedentary lives in antiquity. With the ravages' of disease, difficult childbirth's, constant war and general lawlessness, death was a constant companion.

  Students started young and learned fast, they were expected to be fully functioning citizens by the end of their adolescence.

  Reading the journal's I realized that in spite of this we had all still been children, the necessities of civilization had forced this upon us.

  I could see that Imhotep was completely smitten with Semiramis and she did what any sensible woman would do, she used this to manipulate him.

  "Gods men are so dumb."

  He was basically acting as her personal tutor as well as listening to all her whining about whom ever was her current lover.

  As the months passed I could tell Imhotep was becoming more and more disenchanted with the relationship. In an act of defiance he started a liaison with another woman.

  This is where the plot became interesting.

  He had written:

  I told her she cared not for me. That she treated me as her servant.

  "Well duh." I thought to myself.

  I have found another, she has not your beauty but she cares for me.

  When confronted thus a sensible woman would have just given the man a guilty smile, then tried to manipulate him one last time, just to be sure.

  Instead Semiramis became enraged. She demanded that he stop seeing the other woman.

  Imhotep to his credit appeared to stick to his guns, the journals from that point forward made little reference to Semiramis. I did however notice the faint bouquet of fear.

  Ammit nudged my leg, I looked down and saw a look of distress on her face.

  "Geez... not so tough now huh..."

  I wondered if dogs had the same problems as humans when it came to pregnancy. I undid her leash from the desk drawer then stood close to her as I activated a transport spell with my bracelet.

  We appeared on the lawn in front of my house, we stood before a large brick wall that surrounded the property , a small locked wooden door led out onto a quiet neighborhood street.

  I unlocked the door then led Ammit through, the door clicked shut behind me. Ammit quickly tugged the leash and started her search for the perfect spot to empty her bladder.

  We walked for about thirty feet, then Ammit started sniffing the ground a look of intense concentration on her face. Then she put her butt over the spot and lifted her tail.

  "Eww..." I said as I looked away.

  Ammit had soon produced a large pile of brown steaming poop. I surreptitiously looked around to make sure I was alone, then flipped the squares on my bracelet.

  The poop disappeared in a blue flash, it would reappear on the front lawn of a certain politician's house I had developed a severe dislike for.

  "Not going to just let it sit there, are you?"

  I felt my body jerk in surprise, then I turned quickly towards the sound of the voice. It was the reporter I had seen earlier with Widdle in the Institute of Science, John Morgan.

  "Let what sit there," I said nonchalantly.

  "That... oh... very curious..."

  "You shouldn't sneak up on people Mr Morgan, oh and by the way you better not try anything my dog is quite vicious."

  I looked down at Ammit only to see her licking herself between her legs, I gave the leash a quick tug, she looked up quickly with a confused expression , I gestured towards Morgan surreptitiously.

  Ammit gave him a stern look.

  "Kem...Kemberly Smith... isn't it?" Morgan said. He had a pencil and notepad in his hands.

  "What do you want? I'm a busy woman." I said as I prepared to walk back to the door to my lawn.

  "You're a very interesting person Ms Smith... Phd in Archaeology... the records are all there, except when I called your old alma mater, the University of South Africa... no one remembers you."

  "People forget," I said as I started walking.

  "Not to be rude, but you're not the type of woman people forget. You worked for the Rand Corporation as a consultant... I called them up too... got a lot of very strange answers when I asked about you."

  "Do you have point Mr. Morgan?"

  "Strange story I heard once, I was in Sweden covering the Nobel prize ceremony, got friendly with one of the security guys, was an off duty cop, said he did an investigation once... interviewed a woman who showed up in a hospital with a sword stuck in her arm, she was dressed up as an ancient Egyptian... doctor's patched her up then she just disappeared the next day... all he had was a security camera picture... showed it to me."

  I turned and stared at him.

  "You believe in ghosts then?"

  "I did a bit of research after I saw you with Widdle... there was another woman who also looked remarkably like you, who showed up in a Cairo hospital a few years ago... also dressed as an ancient Egyptian. Severe Appendicitis I believe."

  "Silliness... means nothing."

  "Your accent... it doesn't sound South African."

  "Is this what passes for science journalism now Mr. Morgan, shouldn't you be interviewing a researcher?"

  "What's Widdle up to? What's he hiding?"Morgan had a frustrated look on his face.

  I turned and kept walking, I quickly punched the door's security code into a pad next to the handle and opened it, I turned towards Morgan one last time."

  "There's no story here Morgan, you don't want to get involved," I said.

  I walked through and closed the door behind me, I heard him yell over the wall.

  "I'll find out Ms Smith, I always do."