Gladiator Clash (Time Hunters, Book 1) by Chris Blake Page A

time to explore a bit more?” Tom said.
    Dad looked up at him, his bright blue eyes staring out blankly from behind his glasses. “Oh, I’m not hungry, thanks,” he said. “I don’t like cheese and pickle.” He turned his attention back to the papers.
    Tom knew his dad was lost in a world of his own, full of pyramids and Romans and Vikings. “I’m off to fight with some gladiators now, Dad,” he said. “Maybe some cavemen too.”
    â€œThat’s nice,” Dad mumbled.
    Tom wandered through the familiar corridors, peering into the display cases of his favourite exhibits. In the hall of Ancient Greece, he admired the feathered Greek army helmets. In the Viking section, he marvelled at the shields and swords covered in strange letters. As he walked through the hall of Medieval Britain, he waved at some models of men wearing chainmail. Finally, saving the best until last, he went down the stairs to the Ancient Egyptian section.

    Tom loved history and liked to pretend he could travel through time. He lunged towards a brightly painted sarcophagus, using his pen as a sword. “Watch out, pharaoh!” he told the exhibit behind the glass. “I’m a deadly swordsman from the future. Your armies will never defeat me!”
    Then, with flailing arms, he started to fight off a band of imaginary Ancient Egyptian attackers, running backwards as if he was being chased.
    Tom stumbled and tripped, only noticing the statue labelled ‘Goddess Isis’ when it was too late. He smacked into it at full force.
    The statue wobbled to the right, then it rocked back to the left. Tom rushed forward to save it. “Nooo…!” he cried. But he was too late. The statue toppled on to the floor and smashed into a million pieces.
    â€œUh oh,” Tom gulped. “Dad’s going to kill me! The museum’s going to kill me! Everyone’s going to kill me!”
    Tom’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the mess. There were pottery fragments everywhere. Then something very strange began to happen. The bits started to move and shake.
    Tom gasped as five fingers reached out from what was left of the statue. The fingers were wrapped in dirty, torn bandages. Like an Egyptian mummy! Tom stared in shock as the fingers stretched out into a hand, opening and closing as if it was trying to grab him. The hand was followed by a wrist, then an arm…
    Suddenly a whole, groaning, child-sized mummy sprang from the wreckage. The shape of some sort of mummified animal stood next to it. Both were wrapped head to toe in crusty shreds of cloth, the loose ends flapping as they moved. They looked at Tom and started walking towards him.

    â€œAaaargh! Don’t hurt me!” Tom cried.
    But to his surprise the bandaged animal started to purr and then circle round his leg in a friendly manner.
    Tom stared down at it. “Oh my gosh! Is that
really
a cat?” he asked in disbelief.
    â€œYes, of course! It’s
my
cat, Cleo!” the mummy said, with a young girl’s voice.
    The mummy stood up tall, which, Tom noticed, wasn’t as tall as him, and straightened its back with a crack. A cloud of dust billowed round the mummy and wafted to the floor, as if someone had beaten a grimy rug with a stick.
    â€œY-you spoke!” Tom said, wiping his sweaty palms on his school trousers.
    The mummy folded its arms. “Well, of course I spoke! What did you expect me to do?”
    â€œEr… but… I can understand you.”
    â€œI’m not surprised. Father always said I was special,” the mummy sniffed. “That’s why he named me after the goddess of magic. My name’s Princess Isis Amun-Ra. I’m ten. Who are you?”
    Tom scratched his head in exactly the same way his dad had done. “I’m Tom,” he said.
    The ragged Egyptian princess frowned. “Just Tom? You don’t have a title?”
    â€œSorry if that’s not