Barnabas Tew and The Case Of The Missing Scarab

by Columbkill Noonan

  Wilfred said no more, and they walked on for a few more minutes, until they came to an opening in the shrubbery. Looking in, they could see a bountiful rose garden lined with benches and punctuated by marble fountains here and there. Inside the bower worked a very gnarled, very wrinkled old man dressed in robes of a light, shimmery pink. His robes also happened to be quite dirty, the reason for which was readily apparent as the man was currently crawling on all fours in an attempt to reach a particularly reclusive low-lying branch with his hedge clippers.

  “Hullo,” said Wilfred after he had determined that Barnabas was petulantly refusing to hail the man. The man jumped, startled, then stood up and smoothed his robes, flicking clumps of dirt and leaves and assorted rose detritus on the ground.

  He smiled at Barnabas and Wilfred and said in a soft, friendly voice, “Hello there!”

  “Are you Thoth?” asked Wilfred. “Or, if not, would you perhaps know where we might find him? We have come to find Thoth because we are in need of some wisdom and such, you see.”

  “I am Thoth,” said the old man. “And who might you be, you two who are in need of my wisdom?” Wilfred thought that there was perhaps a bit of amusement in the old man’s kind blue eyes.

  Barnabas stepped forward boldly, and if Wilfred could see a hint of his habitual nervousness written upon his face, so too could he see an alarming degree of defiance there as well. It was obvious that Barnabas had been pushed quite beyond his limits and was in the midst of a fit of indignant outrage.

  “We,” Barnabas said shortly, gesturing towards himself and Wilfred, “are detectives. Important ones, too. We have been brought here all the way from Marylebone to work for Anubis himself, retained to find the missing god Khepre, and yet we have been treated in the most outrageous fashion since our arrival.”

  “Oh?” asked Thoth politely. “How so?”

  “Well!” said Barnabas. “Firstly, I have been killed by a mummy.”

  “Me too,” said Wilfred. “And then dragged about by children with animal heads…”

  Barnabas shot Wilfred an annoyed glance, and Wilfred coughed and stopped speaking.

  “Yes, as I was saying, we were killed by a mummy, probably the same one, although who’s to say? Perhaps it was two separate mummies, although I can’t see how that would matter terribly…”

  “Yes, yes, attacked by mummies and animal-headed children,” said Thoth, rolling his hand in a hurry up gesture to get Barnabas back on track.

  “Pecked by a horrible canary!” exclaimed Barnabas, his affront reddening his face and making his voice louder than it strictly needed to be in this quiet, peaceful garden. Wilfred cringed a bit at Barnabas’ uncharacteristic rudeness, although he assumed that, under the circumstances, it was probably entirely understandable.

  “Oh, well, that must have been quite frightening,” said Thoth kindly.

  “Indeed it was!” said Barnabas. “Then, oh… What else?” He began to list the unpleasant things that had happened to them during their short sojourn in the Egyptian underworld, counting them off on his fingers as he went. “So there was the mummy, the canary, then came the flying monkey monsters, and then there was Set. Although, I, at least, found Set to be quite delightful, not at all what you’d expect from the god of chaos and such. Although of course he did trick us, in a way…”

  He broke off for a second, both because he needed to take a breath and because he saw Thoth’s eyes begin to drift longingly back to his rose bushes. “Ahem!” he said loudly, and then Barnabas commenced listing his grievances again once Thoth reluctantly returned his gaze to him. “There was Khnum, who tricked us into flooding the Nile and destroying everything and getting people eaten by crocodiles, and then another incident with the stupid canary, and then, lastly, a most outrageous interview with Apep. That fellow is simply the most abominable, most barbarous creature I have ever had the misfortune to meet!”

  “All of that sounds very terrible,” said Thoth. “You must feel very put out by it all.”

  “Oh yes, we are extraordinarily put out!” agreed Barnabas. Now that he had got it all out, his voice was beginning to return to its normal polite timbre. Wilfred sighed in relief. Barnabas’ excitement was a bit trying on his nerves. “Oh, and also, it seems that we are mice,” Barnabas added.

  “I can see that,” said Thoth. “Were you not, um… How do I say this? Are you not normally mice, then?”

  “No, we are not normally mice!” yelped Barnabas, his voice rising in pitch again so that Wilfred flinched uncomfortably. “We are people, of course. Human beings! And it is unacceptable that we should be walking about as…as…rodents!” He was so excited that he was quite red in the face now (beneath his fur, that is), so that it appeared that he might suffer from an apoplexy at any moment.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” said Thoth softly, holding up a placating hand. “But what is it that you wish of me? I will be glad to help you in whatever way I can, you know.”

  “Well, the first order of business would be to turn us back into people,” said Barnabas peremptorily.

  Thoth thought for a moment, a frown deepening the creases on his kindly old face. At last he spoke. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said. “But I’m sure that I can’t do that.”

  “What!” exclaimed Barnabas. Then, overcome by outraged disappointment, he did the unthinkable: he hopped forward and nipped Thoth on the hand with his sharp mousey teeth.

  Wilfred gasped in shock. Thoth yelped in surprise and pain. Barnabas looked back at Wilfred with Thoth’s hand still in his mouth and his eyes as wide as he could get them, as though he were as confused as everybody else by what had just happened. Almost immediately, however, he realized what it was that he had done and was mortified at his own rudeness.

  “Oh dear!” he cried, slowly dropping Thoth’s hand. Awkwardly, he gave it a small pat as though to soothe any pain he might have inflicted. “I am so terribly sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just been so upset and I’m a mouse and seem to have lost control of my own faculties…”

  “Hush,” said Thoth, his tone still polite but with a firmness to it now that brooked no disobedience. “It is quite all right, understandable even, under the circumstances. It must be that your mouse instincts kicked in.”

  “Still,” said Barnabas, hanging his head miserably, “I am quite sorry. I shall never forgive myself.”

  “No need for all that,” said Thoth, a bit wearily. “If you had waited for just a moment, you would have heard the rest of what I had to say.”

  Barnabas said nothing, but shuffled his feet and looked at the ground, abashed. Wilfred, shocked and embarrassed, also said nothing but attempted to plaster a polite smile on his face (the sort of smile that one puts on at an excruciatingly uncomfortable formal tea, but which seemed utterly ridiculous under the circumstances).

  “So,” continued Thoth, “what I was about to say was that, whilst I cannot change you back entirely, I can at least give you back your human bodies. It will be important for you to be of your regular size if you are to go to the house of Bastet. Unfortunately, you will have to keep your mouse heads for the time being.”

  Barnabas and Wilfred felt quite overwhelmed by Thoth’s statement, and neither knew what, exactly, to say, or what questions to ask, or whether they ought to simply remain quiet and wait for Thoth to clarify. So, they both simply began to blurt out all of the thoughts that were now clamoring about in their minds.

  “Oh thank you! How soon can we be people-sized again?” asked Barnabas.

  “When are we going to Bastet’s house? Where is Bastet’s house? Why are we going to Bastet’s house?” asked Wilfred.

  “Can’t we have our own heads back too? Is there a reason we must have mouse heads? Is there anyone who can restore our heads?” asked Barnabas.

  “Wait, isn’t Bastet the goddess of cats?” asked Wilfred.

  “Hold on! Hold on!” said Thoth, laughing. “Slow down! I will answer all of your questions if you just listen for a
moment.” Barnabas and Wilfred dutifully shut their mouths.

  “You will have your size restored immediately, that much I can do,” said Thoth. Barnabas opened his mouth again, ready to offer profuse thanks once more, but Thoth raised a pointed finger for silence and Barnabas obeyed. “It is beyond my power, however, to change your heads back. I cannot undo all that another god has done. Only Anubis has that power. So, perhaps, he will restore you entirely. Once you have completed your task, that is.”

  Barnabas sighed with regret at that. The way things had gone thus far did not bode well for the successful completion of their task, and thus their odds of getting their own heads back.

  “As for Bastet,” continued Thoth, nodding towards Wilfred, “you should go to her because she, along with her army of cats, once defeated Apep. If you ask it of her, she may do so again as she bears no love for chaos of any kind. She especially hates Apep, a serpent and thus the natural enemy of the cat. When she defeats him again, he will be forced to tell you all he knows about Khepre’s disappearance.”

  “So, she is a cat,” said Wilfred ruefully.

  “Yes, I am afraid so, which is why it is important that you regain your proper size straightaway. It is unfortunate that you’ll still have your mouse heads, what with all the cats that will be about, but oh well, it can’t be helped.”

  Thoth flung up his hands and smiled as though this were a matter of little consequence. Barnabas and Wilfred, not at all sure that this was such a good idea, shared a concerned glance. However, neither wanted to seem ungrateful to Thoth for his help (and Barnabas most certainly felt that he had insulted the friendly god quite enough already with his boorish behavior and unseemly outburst of violence) and so they simply nodded and thanked him.

  “Wonderful!” exclaimed Thoth. “Then it is all settled. I will change you back.” He waved his hands about airily in their direction, and immediately they felt their bodies shooting up towards a regular height once more; indeed, the effect was extremely disconcerting, almost as though they were falling up instead of down.

  “Very good,” said Thoth as he looked appraisingly at his handiwork. “I’m sure you’ll be quite safe from the cats, now. You are far too big to be mistaken for prey, I would think. I would hope. Oh well. No matter. It’s time to be on your way. I’ll call for my chariot and you’ll be there in no time.”

  And so, within minutes, Barnabas and Wilfred found themselves ushered into a chariot (somewhat reluctantly, if truth be told), and they were soon bouncing along the road on their way to the goddess of cats, their mouse whiskers and mouse tails twitching in trepidation.

  Chapter Thirteen

  And so it was that, restored to their normal sizes but still possessed of mouse heads, Barnabas and Wilfred arrived in short order at the temple of Bastet, Goddess of Cats. Both had, by now, gained control over their new features, and were able to speak quite easily, with nary a peep or a cheep erupting unbidden. (Barnabas, though, would admit later that he still felt a bit mouse-ish; indeed, he would say, he felt altogether snippy, as though he wanted to nibble on things, or, shockingly, nip at people. Wilfred, of course, was none too surprised to hear this, as he had seen the way Barnabas’ snout quivered, and how he nibbled at his lower lip from time to time.)

  All in all, the two detectives were feeling a bit better about things: they had their size back, if not their proper heads; they had found a reasonable person in Thoth, which was reassuring after all of the utterly unreasonable creatures they had met thus far; and they had a plan of sorts.

  Neither, however, was entirely certain this plan was a good idea, considering the amount of cats likely to inhabit the place and the fact that cats typically considered mice to be dinner. Still, Thoth-the-wise had said that they should come here, and so, with no better idea between them, here they were.

  They disembarked from the chariot, thanked the driver, and walked up the stone pathway towards the temple, which was quite beautiful. Made of white marble, it gleamed softly in the sunlight, and the curved staircase that led up to the polished maple doors seemed very inviting. The grounds were fastidiously kept, with neat orderly rows of trimmed hedges and well-mannered rose bushes.

  “Well this certainly looks pleasant enough,” said Barnabas, looking about the tidy place with approval. “This garden is much more to my liking than that, well, wildness at Thoth’s house.”

  “Yes,” said Wilfred agreeably. “The gardens are very lovely.”

  “You know you’re in a civilized place when the gardens are well-kept,” said Barnabas a bit pedantically. “A person who keeps the verge perfectly trimmed is a person of good manners and breeding, is what I always say.”

  Wilfred, who had never heard Barnabas say that, nevertheless nodded affably.

  “And,” continued Barnabas, “the very order of it is, in itself, making a stand against chaos. So we know that nothing untoward could possibly happen in a place like… Oh!”

  A pretty calico cat had chosen that very moment to leap out from behind one of the orderly rose bushes and hiss at them in a very untoward sort of way. Barnabas, startled, leapt aside. In doing so, he collided with Wilfred, knocking him off his balance. The force of the impact was such that Wilfred was unable to keep his balance and began to fall. Barnabas’ legs had somehow managed to become entangled with Wilfred’s so that the two of them toppled down to the ground together in an inglorious heap.

  “Oh my!” said Wilfred in surprise.

  “Terribly sorry!” said Barnabas.

  “Meow!” hissed the cat, now walking slowly towards them with bent legs and a twitching tail so that it appeared to be stalking them.

  “Is he…she…it…licking its lips at us?” asked Wilfred.

  “Why, yes, I do believe so,” replied Barnabas.

  “It looks like it might pounce upon us!” said Wilfred.

  “Yes, it does certainly look that way. See how its front legs have become all, well, bunchy?”

  “Indeed I do see that,” said Wilfred. He regarded the approaching feline dubiously for a moment. “Although, we are quite a bit bigger than it is, and so I’m sure it couldn’t possibly be hunting us. Could it?”

  “Well, we are indeed too big for it to eat us, I’m sure,” said Barnabas. “But it might give us a nasty scratch, at that. And we do still have these unfortunate rodent heads, you know, so the cat might very well try to eat us.”

  “Quite so,” said Wilfred. “Perhaps we’d best stand up, then.”

  “Agreed,” said Barnabas. They quickly disentangled themselves and stood.

  “Nice kitty,” said Barnabas in what he hoped was the soothing, sing-song voice that people used when speaking to children and pets. He leaned forward with his hand extended as though to pat it on its head.

  “Hisssss!” spat the cat, baring its sharp little teeth.

  “Uhhh,” said Barnabas, cringing and stepping away from the ferocious little beast. He looked across the orderly yard and saw several more cats approaching, attracted, no doubt, by the commotion and the hisses of their fellow. “What do you say we go inside straightaway,” he suggested, inching away from the cats.

  “Most certainly,” agreed Wilfred, who had also noticed the new arrivals.

  Not wishing to make any sudden moves that might provoke the cats to pounce, the two sidled slowly sideways up the walk to the steps. When they reached them, they backed up the stairs slowly. Only when they reached the doors did they whirl about quickly. They fumbled a bit at the door handles, as both reached for the same one at the same time, so that they had a bit of a to-do in getting the door open. But at last they succeeded and scurried as fast as they could into the interior, shutting the door behind them.

  They were greeted immediately by a cacophony of feline voices. Inquisitive meows, irritated yowls, and outright hostile hisses echoed in a terrible chorus throughout the interior of the marble chamber in which they found themselves.

  The place was dimly lit, so it took their eyes a moment to adjust
from the brightness of the sun outside; but as soon as they could see, they almost wished they could not. The place was filled entirely with cats, hundreds perhaps, and it seemed that each one had its eye on the two detectives.

  “Oh dear,” said Barnabas.

  “Oh dear indeed,” agreed Wilfred.

  “Do you think they mean to eat us?” asked Barnabas.

  “It certainly feels as if they might,” said Wilfred. “Perhaps we should go back outside?”

  “Well, yes, I would say so, if it weren’t for that,” replied Barnabas, gesturing to the small windows that flanked the door. Small, furry faces with slanted, curious eyes were pressed up against the glass, their noses leaving smudge marks and their breath leaving a fog upon the glass. It seemed their entourage of feline admirers outside had been quite a bit larger than those they had seen.

  “Oh dear,” repeated Wilfred.

  “This really is most distressing,” said Barnabas.

  “Nonsense!” said a woman whom neither of them had seen in the shadowy room. They turned at the sound of her voice. Still, they only spied her once she stood up and stretched. She had been curled up on a cushion that was propped up high on a pedestal in the far corner of the room (not at all where you might expect a human person to be sitting, which was why they hadn’t noticed her before; that, and the distraction of all of the hungry-looking cats.)

  The woman leapt down from her perch with feline grace. As she walked across the room towards them, they saw that she pranced forward standing entirely on her tip-toes like a cat. This was less surprising than it might have been, since her face was that of a cat, as well.

  “Hullo,” said Barnabas, recollecting his manners quickly in the presence of a lady. He sketched a small, nervous bow. “You are Miss Bastet, I presume?”