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  Praise for The Imagination Station® books

  Our children have been riveted and on the edge of their seats through each and every chapter of The Imagination Station books. The series is well-written, engaging, family friendly, and has great spiritual truths woven into the stories. Highly recommended!

  —Crystal P., Money Saving Mom®

  Secret of the Prince’s Tomb is my favorite book! It has great action and adventure. It is better than any book I have ever read … and I read a lot!

  —Luke, age 9, Allendale, New Jersey

  [The Imagination Station books] focus on God much more than the Magic Tree House books do.

  —Emilee, age 7, Waynesboro, Pennsylvania

  These books will help my kids enjoy history.

  —Beth S., third-grade public school teacher Colorado Springs, Colorado

  More praise for The Imagination Station® books

  These books are a great combination of history and adventure in a clean manner perfect for young children.

  —Margie B., My Springfield Mommy blog

  My nine-year-old son has already read [the first two books], one of them twice. He is very eager to read more in the series too. I am planning on reading them out loud to my younger son.

  —Abbi C., mother of four, Minnesota

  Secret of the Prince’s Tomb

  Copyright © 2012 by Focus on the Family. All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-58997-673-3

  A Focus on the Family book published by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188

  Focus on the Family and Adventures in Odyssey, and the accompanying logos and designs, are federally registered trademarks, and The Imagination Station is a federally registered trademark of Focus on the Family, Colorado Springs, CO 80995.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  All Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. ™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide (www.zondervan.com).

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of Focus on the Family.

  With the exception of known historical figures, all characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations.

  Cover design by Michael Heath | Magnus Creative

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data for this book is available by contacting the Library of Congress at http://www.loc.gov/help/contact-general.html.

  Printed in the United States of America

  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 / 16 15 14 13 12

  For manufacturing information regarding this product, please call 1-800-323-9400.

  To Peggy Wilber, who taught my son to read and how to have fun while learning. —MKH

  Contents

  1 The Imagination Station

  2 The Marketplace

  3 Tabitha’s House

  4 The Nile

  5 The Pharaoh

  6 The Slaves

  7 The Cell

  8 The Habiru

  9 The City of the Dead

  10 The Prince’s Tomb

  11 The Prince’s Bones

  12 The Maze

  13 The Tent

  14 Whit’s End

  Secret Word Puzzle

  1

  The Imagination Station

  It was the end of summer. Patrick pushed open the door to Whit’s End. The bell above the ice-cream-shop door jingled.

  Patrick’s cousin Beth followed him.

  Patrick went to the counter and sat down. His face was red. He was breathing hard.

  A friendly looking man with white hair and a white moustache stood behind the counter. He was cleaning a glass. His name was John Avery Whittaker. Some adults called him Whit. He looked up at the two cousins and smiled.

  “Hello, Patrick,” Whit said. “Hi, Beth.”

  Beth climbed onto a stool next to Patrick.

  “Hi, Mr. Whittaker,” Beth said.

  Whit eyed Patrick. “Is everything all right, Patrick?”

  Patrick frowned. “No,” he said.

  Whit put down the glass. “What’s wrong?”

  Patrick clenched his hands together. He fumed.

  “School starts next week. Patrick is mad about it,” Beth explained.

  Whit chuckled. “I remember how hard it was to see vacations end,” he said.

  “I don’t like school,” Patrick said.

  Whit gazed at Patrick. “What don’t you like about it?” Whit asked.

  “It’s hard work. Everyone bosses me around. The kids tease me,” Patrick said.

  Whit nodded. “I understand,” he said warmly. “But you know the hard work is to help you learn. And getting ‘bossed around’ is part of being taught. It’s about discipline and responsibility.”

  “I don’t like it,” Patrick said. “Especially after summer break. We got to do whatever we wanted.”

  “I know what you mean,” Whit said. He turned to Beth. “Is that how you feel?” Whit asked.

  “Mostly. But I’m looking forward to seeing my friends again,” Beth said.

  “That’s because you have a lot of friends,” Patrick said. “I have only a few. The rest of the time I get teased.”

  Whit asked Patrick, “What do they tease you about?” Patrick shrugged. “Almost everything,” he said. “I’m not as good at sports as some of them. And I’m not as smart as some of the others. It’s the smart ones who bother me the most.”

  Whit asked, “About what?” Patrick thought for a moment. “Some of them say I’m stupid. It’s all because I believe in God,” he said.

  Whit’s eyebrows wrinkled together with concern. “They tease you about your faith?” he asked.

  “A few kids in the science club are proud of themselves. They brag that they don’t believe in God,” Patrick said. “They know that I do, so they tease me about it.”

  “You, too?” Whit asked Beth.

  “Sometimes,” she replied.

  Whit rubbed his chin. “That’s too bad,” he said.

  “It’s like they won’t be happy until I believe the way they do,” Patrick said.

  Whit leaned on the counter. “People who don’t believe in God are often bothered by those who do. Or they believe in other gods. It’s happened throughout history,” he said. “Some people are made slaves for their beliefs.”

  “That’s how I feel about school,” Patrick said. “I feel like I’m a slave. Teachers make us work hard.”

  Whit put his hand over his mouth. Beth thought he was going to laugh.

  “I don’t think you know much about slavery. Or you wouldn’t say things like that,” Whit said.

  “I was a slave in one of the Imagination Station trips,” Beth said. “It was hard.”

  Patrick shrugged. “I’m just telling you how I feel,” he said.

  “And where do you think God is while you’re feeling this way?” Whit asked. A smile hung around his lips. “Has He disappeared? Has He abandoned you to the terrible suffering you have at school?”

  Patrick looked at Whit. “Now you’re teasing me,” he said.

  “I’m just wondering,” Whit said.

  Patrick slowly shook his head.

  Whit stroked his moustache. He often did that when he had an idea. “How would you two like a trip in the Imagination Station?” Whit asked.

  “I’d love to go!” Beth said. She leaped from the stool.

  “I guess,” Patrick said as he slid from his stool. “Are you going to make me a slave to teach m
e how bad it is?”

  Whit smiled. “No. I have another idea,” he said.

  He led the cousins to the basement workshop.

  They entered a large room filled with inventions and tools. The Imagination Station sat in the corner.

  The Imagination Station was bubble-shaped like the front part of a helicopter. It had sliding doors on two sides. Inside were two seats and a control panel. It was kind of like a time machine.

  Whit opened a panel on the side and began typing on a small computer there.

  “So where are we going this time?” Beth asked.

  “You’ll find out when you get there,” Whit said. “Get in.”

  Patrick and Beth climbed into the cockpit. “What about our costumes?” they asked.

  “I changed the program,” Whit said. “The clothes you’re wearing will change. They will look right for the time. And you’ll have a few other things you’ll need.”

  “Cool!” Beth said.

  Patrick looked as if he were already coming out of his bad mood.

  “Ready?” Whit said.

  “We’re ready,” Beth said. She held up a thumb to signal okay.

  “Then press the red button,” Whit said.

  Beth pressed it.

  The machine started to shake. Then it rumbled. It seemed to move forward.

  Then the rumble grew louder.

  The machine whirred.

  Suddenly, everything went black.

  2

  The Marketplace

  The Imagination Station stopped like a car at the end of a roller-coaster ride. Beth’s head bobbed forward. She looked around at the darkness.

  Then there was light. It was as if someone had flipped a light switch. Beth was blinded. She held up a hand to block the brightness. Then she glanced over at Patrick.

  He was covering his eyes too.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “The sun,” he said.

  Beth was aware of the heat now. Then the sounds of voices.

  The cousins were sitting on the ground. Someone bumped her. A crowd of people bustled around them.

  “Where are we?” Patrick asked.

  Beth stood up and brushed herself off. She looked down. She was wearing a thin, long white dress. It felt like a bedsheet on her skin.

  Patrick stood and then peered down as well. He was dressed in a tunic.

  Beth giggled. Patrick’s tunic looked like a skirt. She looked at the crowd. All of the men wore tunics like Patrick’s.

  The cousins both wore large, beautiful gold collars and gold belts.

  Patrick pulled at his collar. “It’s so hot,” he said.

  Beth agreed. She felt as if she were in an oven.

  The cousins seemed to be in everyone’s way. They were bumped and jostled. Tents and tables were set up all around them. It was a marketplace.

  Beth sniffed the air. Something smelled like dead fish and overripe fruit.

  No one else seemed to notice the foul smell.

  Then Beth saw a man with a basket of fish, grapes, and bread. He put it onto the right arm of a balance scale.

  Another man sat behind the scale. He stood up. He carefully placed metal balls on the left arm of the scale. He was weighing the man’s food to see how much it cost.

  “Four deben,” the man said.

  Patrick moved toward a table filled with knives and arrows. He picked up a knife and showed it to Beth.

  The knife had a gold handle. The handle had a figure carved in it. It showed a man’s body with the face of a dog.

  “I’ve seen these in books,” Patrick said. “I know where we are, Beth. We’re in Egypt! That’s an image of one of their gods.”

  Beth nodded. Her gaze went to a table with clay jars. Each of them had something different on top. One had a dog’s head, one a bird, one an alligator, and one a man’s head.

  She also saw beautiful vases. All of them had strange half-man, half-animal figures on the sides.

  Beth reached into a pocket in her tunic. She hoped the Imagination Station had given her some money to spend. Instead, she felt something else.

  “Hey, Patrick,” Beth said. She held up a small book. “I had this in my tunic.”

  Patrick looked at the book.

  “It’s about hieroglyphics,” Beth said. “It’s full of Egyptian picture-words.”

  Patrick reached into his tunic. He found a small book too. “It’s a Bible,” he said.

  A thin braided string stuck out of the top. “There’s a bookmark,” Beth said.

  Patrick flipped through the pages. “Maybe this will explain what’s going on,” he said.

  Suddenly, a girl with beautiful dark hair ran up to them. She wore a colorful dress.

  “Pretend to be my friends,” the girl said.

  Beth and Patrick looked at each other. They had no idea who this girl was.

  “Talk to me like I’m your friend,” she said.

  Patrick shrugged. He said, “Oh, look at this musical instrument. It looks like a five-stringed harp.”

  “Yes,” the girl said. “The strings are made from goose entrails.”

  “Gross,” Beth said. “Goose guts.”

  “Cool!” Patrick said.

  The girl glanced behind her nervously. “Oh no! They’re coming!”

  “Who?” Patrick asked.

  “Egyptian guards! They’re trying to kidnap me!” she said. “I must hide!”

  Across the marketplace, Beth saw stern-looking men. They were dressed in white tunics. Their arms were bare, and they had large collars around their necks. They had swords.

  Patrick pointed to a group of camels tied together by rope. The animals had baskets, pots, or barrels strapped to their humps.

  “Quick! We can hide behind the camels,” Patrick said.

  The three children hustled toward the camels. The guards arrived. They searched around the merchants’ tables.

  “You’re safe,” Beth said to the girl.

  Then an Egyptian woman took the lead camel’s rope. She began to walk the beasts away from the market.

  “What do we do?” the girl asked.

  “Walk with them,” Patrick said.

  The children stayed behind the camel train. The woman led the camels down a side street.

  Then a man’s deep voice called out, “There she is!” The man was pointing at them.

  “Run!” the girl said.

  The three kids took off down the narrow street. They ducked around the corner of a building. They stopped behind a large statue.

  Suddenly, a hand thrust out in front of them. It grabbed the girl by her shoulder. She screamed.

  “Tabitha,” the man said gently. He took her in his arms.

  “Father,” the girl said. She rested her head against his chest.

  “We must hurry home,” the man said. “There’s big trouble.”

  3

  Tabitha’s House

  Patrick’s mouth fell open when he saw Tabitha’s house. In the front, nine columns held up a high roof.

  Those columns are as thick as hundred-year-old trees, Patrick thought.

  Inside, the ceilings were as high as the gym at their school. The brick floor was painted with bright blues and greens. Large plants in vases lined the halls.

  Farther in, more columns surrounded a courtyard. There was a tub of water made out of stone. It looked like a shallow swimming pool.

  Patrick suddenly noticed how hot he was. His skin felt itchy and sweaty. He wanted to jump into that water.

  Tabitha’s father pointed to a side room. “Gather your most important things,” he told Tabitha.

  “Why, Father?” Tabitha asked.

  Her father didn’t answer. He raced into another room. Beth and Patrick followed Tabitha into the side room.

  Tabitha went to a trunk. She pulled out some clothes. Then she went to a bed with a wooden frame and ropes strapped across it. The “pillow” was a wood block.

  That doesn’t look comfortable, Patrick
thought.

  Tabitha reached under the bed. She pulled out a small doll and put it with her clothes.

  Tabitha’s father suddenly cried out.

  The children rushed from the room.

  Two large, brown-skinned men were in the courtyard. They held Tabitha’s father by the arms.

  “This is no longer your home,” one of the men said. His neck was thick. A gold collar circled it.

  “Our family has lived in this house for generations,” Tabitha’s father said.

  “There are new rules for the Habiru. Even the rich ones,” the man said. “Your days of living like royalty are over.”

  “This is robbery!” Tabitha’s father shouted. He struggled. The man grabbed him and pushed him toward the door.

  “Father!” Tabitha cried. She ran to her father.

  The other large man grabbed Tabitha and picked her up. She squirmed in his arms.

  “Put me down!” Tabitha cried.

  The men took them out of the courtyard and into a hallway. They headed for the front door.

  “Should we do something?” Patrick asked Beth.

  “What can we do?” Beth said. “Those guys are huge!”

  The cousins followed them outside.

  “Stop!” came a small voice.

  The large men obeyed.

  Patrick saw a child dressed in a white skirt. He wore a beautiful golden collar too. The collar was shaped like a mighty bird.

  The boy was almost bald. A single braid grew from the top center of his head. The braid was long enough to reach his shoulder.

  The boy spoke. “What are you doing?” he asked the large men.

  “We have orders to drive these Habiru out,” one of the men said. “They are no longer welcome to live here. They will join the rest of their people.”

  The boy pointed at Tabitha. “She is my friend,” he said. “And her father is an important official in the court. You will leave them alone.”

  The two large men glanced at each other. They put Tabitha on the ground and let go of her father. Saluting the boy, they turned and walked off without a word.

  Patrick looked at the boy. Why are these huge guys listening to that little kid? he wondered.