Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus

by R. L. LaFevers

  "But they are my men!"

  "But you have named them scorpions and so put them under the power of the scorpion goddess, and therefore they must obey scorpion charmers everywhere—although there are not many of us left."

  Trawley's face grew mottled with rage. When he spoke, spittle flew from his lips. "You have not had the last word, I assure you. You will be hearing from me again, soon." He shot me a lethal glare, then followed his scorpions from the museum.

  Awi Bubu nodded his head at Kimosiri. "Go and see the door is shut and locked once they have left. And do not let that watchman see you! We don't need another encounter with the police."

  Without a word, the larger man followed Trawley down the hall. Trawley picked up his pace and fairly skipped toward the door.

  It was just the two of us then. Awi cocked his head to the side like a very curious, very ancient bird. "Why did you not use the Orb of Ra on them?" he asked.

  My hand flew to the heavy lump in my pinafore pocket. "How do you know about that?" I asked, then frowned. "And what do you mean, use it?"

  "I sensed an artifact of great power on your person and could determine the approximate size and shape by the power it gave off."

  Now that would be a skill to possess, I thought. Come to think of it, it wasn't so different from my ability to sense curses, just more refined. "How does one use the orb without the staff?" I asked.

  "Ah, there are a few things Little Miss does not yet know. We will have to save that for another time, I'm afraid. And now, since I have just done you a good turn by saving you from the eggheaded man, perhaps Little Miss will do me one and fetch me the Emerald Tablet."

  Feeling a bit braver with Trawley and all the scorpions gone, not to mention the absence of the silent, hulking Kimosiri, I said, "What Emerald Tablet?"

  He tsked at me. "Little Miss, I am disappointed in you. Surely there should be truth between friends?"

  "Are we friends?" I asked, well and truly curious.

  "I would like to think so. Allies, at the least. Why else have I shown up at such a time to help you?"

  "Um, because you wanted the tablet and you were afraid Trawley and his Arcane Order of the Black Sun might get it first?"

  "Such cynicism in one so young is most unbecoming."

  Honestly. He sounded just like my grandmother.

  Awi Bubu began wandering among the items in the half-assembled exhibit. "Have I ever given you reason to mistrust me? Have I spilled any of your secrets? Exposed your activities to your parents, perhaps? No. I have done none of these things, and yet you will not call me friend." He stopped in front of a bust of Thutmose III, then whirled around to face me. "Do you call Stilton your friend? I wonder."

  "I don't see how that's any of your business," I said, stung that he'd landed on my uncertainty about the Third Assistant Curator. I had been so sure he was trustworthy, and yet he had led Trawley here.

  "Ah. At least Little Miss is learning," Awi Bubu said as if I had spoken my thoughts out loud.

  "Stop that," I hissed at him.

  "It is in your power to stop me, Little Miss. You have only to give me the tablet and I will be on my way." Something in his voice made me study him more carefully. There was a jubilant lilt to it, as if my giving him the tablet would bring him great joy.

  "I'm afraid I can't do that. It belongs to my parents' museum, and they would be very upset with me if I were to hand over something of value."

  Awi Bubu barked out a laugh. "Your parents"—he practically spit out the words—"your parents are lovely people and even competent at what they do, but they have no idea as to who or what you are, or what you are up to. Do not insult me by claiming otherwise."

  Who or what I was? I was suddenly hungry to know just who—and what—he thought I was. Because, frankly, I hadn't a clue.

  Awi Bubu heaved a great sigh, full of regret. "I would so have preferred you to hand the tablet over to me, but if you will not, I have no qualms about taking it. My claim upon it is much greater—and older—than yours." Without even hesitating, he headed over to the basket of grain. How had he known where I'd put it? There wasn't the faintest bit of green showing.

  More important, how could I stop him? Surely his absolute determination to possess it proved it had some value, even if I had been unable to detect it.

  Since he wasn't much bigger than I was, I gave serious thought to simply tackling him, or I would have if I hadn't known that Kimosiri was likely to be back any moment.

  "You do know you can't really turn metal into gold, don't you?" As I'd hoped, my words stopped him.

  "Of course," Awi said. "But that is not the nature of this tablet's value."

  "It's not?"

  "No, the early translations were intentionally misleading."

  As Awi reached the display case that was holding the basket, a hissing, spitting shape leaped out of the darkness, straight at his face.

  Awi Bubu recoiled and his hands began to sketch a strange motion until he realized it was my cat.

  "Isis!" I said.

  "Isis," Awi Bubu repeated, taking a step back from her. She had planted herself in front of the tablet, back arched and fur puffed out, which made her look large and terrifying. The Egyptian magician studied her a moment, then said some words in a strange language. Arabic? Ancient Egyptian? I had no idea.

  Isis calmed a bit but remained firmly in position between Awi Bubu and the tablet. Much to my shock, the magician gave me a little bow. "Very well. I will not cross your friend to possess what is mine, but be warned, Little Miss, we will meet again and I will have that tablet."

  And with those words, he left the foyer and hurried down the corridor Kimosiri had disappeared down earlier.

  Slowly, without even thinking, I sank to the floor, my legs unable to hold me up another second. Once she was sure he was gone, Isis left the tablet's hiding place and came over to me. She nudged my hand with her nose and began purring. "Excellent work," I told her. I went to pet her, but my hand paused in the air above her head. Why had Awi Bubu been so afraid of crossing her? Why had she guarded the tablet? These questions made me hesitate. Finally, Isis grew impatient and batted at me with her paw.

  Whatever else she was, she was my dearest friend in all the world and had just saved my bacon. I picked her up with both hands and cuddled her to my chest, burying my nose in her soft fur. When I felt strong enough to stand again, I kept her in my arms and carried her back to my closet, where she spent the entire night by my side in the sarcophagus.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Henry Loses His Marbles

  I AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING when the door to my closet burst open and banged against the wall. Isis yowled and I sat bolt upright, heart thumping painfully against my ribs. As Isis sprang out of the sarcophagus and raced for the door, I said, "Henry?"

  "Why? Why'd you do it, Theo?"

  I rubbed my eyes and wondered if I was having a nightmare. "What? Why'd I do what?"

  "This," he said, then threw something that struck me in the chest.

  "Oof! Henry! That was uncalled-for!"

  He stepped into the room, his fists clenched. "What do you expect when you go around ruining people's things?"

  "What are you talking about?" I looked down at the projectile in my lap. It was the book he'd been reading last night. I picked it up and opened it, then gasped. The pages inside had been torn and shredded. "Henry, I didn't do this, I swear it!"

  "Well, who else would have? And don't begin jabbering on about Chaos and bad guys and that rot." Two bright spots of pink colored his cheeks.

  "All right," I said slowly, trying to think. "But it wasn't me. I would never ruin a book, Henry. Never."

  "I don't believe you. I think you're playing tricks on me, trying to keep at this mystery game of yours."

  I scrambled out of the sarcophagus. "Henry, that's not true!"

  "We'll just hear what Mother and Father have to say about all this."

  I froze. They would be furious, and right
ly so. The only problem was, I wasn't guilty! "Henry, you've got to believe me, I didn't do it. But we'll find out who did."

  He stared at me a moment longer. "Very well. If you can prove someone else did it by dinnertime tonight, I won't tell on you." And with that, he stormed away.

  I sat down on the edge of the sarcophagus and flipped through the pages of the wrecked book. Who would have done this? And why? It looked like someone had tried to tear pages out with a knife. Or claws. I paused. Isis wouldn't have, would she? No. She'd been with me all night. But then who?

  Anubis? With a jolt, I realized I still had the Orb of Ra in my pocket. Had he come up from the catacombs last night looking for it? I had promised I'd return it soon, but what exactly did a jackal consider soon? That seemed a bit of a stretch, as I had no idea why he would attack Henry's book if he was mad at me, but I had to start my investigation someplace.

  I jumped up and washed my face at the basin, then took off my slept-in dress and put on my spare. I slipped back into my pinafore and hurried out to deal with what was shaping up to be a busy day.

  My first stop was the catacombs to see about Henry's book. Grasping my amulets, I hurried down the stairs.

  Anubis looked as if he hadn't moved a whisker since I'd last seen him. I came closer and studied his teeth and claws, looking for tiny shreds of paper or other signs that he had attacked Henry's book. I checked the floor, but it too was clean of tattered paper scraps—wait. A glint of metal caught my eye.

  A niggle of dread filled me when I drew closer and saw it was an amulet. Specifically, the amulet I'd given Henry the first time he'd come down here with me.

  Which meant the little beast had taken it out of his pocket when I wasn't looking and kicked it behind the shrine.

  As that realization sank in, everything else snapped into place: the marbles, the tart, the book. Unprotected as he was, Henry was being haunted by something; something from the catacombs, no doubt. I lifted my eyes to the wall of mummies, not surprised to find a small pile on the floor at the feet of Tetley's mummy.

  There were Henry's marbles, his crumbly old tart, and a few ripped shreds of his book. I glanced up at Tetley, awareness dawning. His mut was haunting Henry! The Egyptians had always believed young children were much more vulnerable than adults to spiritual influences and hauntings from the underworld. And as if that weren't enough, Henry had sounded the ivory clappers in the workroom. Normally, they needed to be clapped three times to drive away an evil spirit: once to call the spirit's attention; the second time to exert influence over the spirit, insisting it obey; and the third time to drive it away.

  I hadn't given any thought to it before because I'd assumed Henry was wearing the amulet I had given him. But now here it lay, on the floor. I picked it up and slipped it over my head.

  Tetley's ba,restless and unhappy, had now become a mut and was lingering on earth, moping and miserable. He was no doubt upset at the lack of a proper burial and had been busily collecting what he would need in the afterlife. They weren't exactly honey cakes and shabtis, but they were things that would sustain him and keep him entertained.

  Poor Tetley! But at least I had an answer for Henry. The trick would be getting him to believe me, or at least creating enough doubt in his mind so that he wouldn't tell our parents.

  Determined to make him understand, I started back up the stairs, stopping when I felt the heavy bump against my leg. I headed back over to the Canopic shrine and tucked the Orb of Ra safely away inside it. "Sorry about that," I told the statue, then hastened to get on with my morning.

  ***

  Luckily, the curators hadn't shown up yet. As I crossed the empty foyer, I was so focused on my explanation for Henry that the faint rap on the window nearly made me jump out of my skin. Will! I'd forgotten we were to meet today. I went outside to join him, where he'd taken up position behind a birch tree.

  "Morning, miss."

  "Good morning. I'd actually forgot you were coming today."

  Will snorted. "I already told you, I ain't goin' to let a cou ple of 'oity-toits keep me from the most interestin' job I've ever 'ad!"

  "Right. Well, in this case, I don't think Wigmere would mind a great deal. So very much has happened! I'm sure he'll want to know about it as soon as possible." Then I filled Will in on all the details of the Black Sun break-in and Awi Bubu's intervention. When I finished, he whistled in appreciation. "Can't wait to 'ear what ol' Wiggy says about all that."

  "Surely he will agree that it is of utmost importance. Besides"—I perked up—"you can tell him Fagenbush hasn't arrived yet so I can't very well use him. Now, did you get everything? Do you want to repeat it back to me?"

  "No, I got it." He tipped his cap to me. "Be back soon, with instructions," he said.

  As I pulled my eyes away from Will, I noticed a lone figure hurrying into the museum. Stilton had arrived. At the sight of him, I felt my anger at last night's betrayal return in full force. He and I needed to have a talk.

  ***

  I decided to wait for Stilton in his office, ambush him, as it were. It was the least he deserved for betraying me—our entire museum!—to Trawley, leading that wretched man into our midst to steal something.

  I didn't have to wait long. Stilton let himself into his office looking drawn and pale. He was clearly distracted and didn't even see me until I cleared my throat. He flinched so hard, he dropped the small white box he'd been carrying; it landed on the floor with a faint plop.

  "Miss Theodosia!" he said. "You startled me."

  "Well, I'm very sorry about that, but we need to talk."

  He quickly and guiltily averted his eyes from mine and bent to retrieve his package. When he stood back up, a warm, rich smell wafted toward me. My stomach growled. Mortified, I clamped my hand over my middle and prayed he hadn't heard.

  Rather tentatively, he held the box out to me. "I-I th-thought you might be hungry this morning, what with staying here last night and all."

  He looked so miserable and hopeful all at once that a small portion of my ire disappeared. "Thank you," I said, taking the box. Of course, it didn't hurt that he'd brought food as a peace offering. When I opened the box, hot cross buns peeked out. "Oh, thank you!" I said again, this time with much more feeling. I plucked one from the box, savoring the warmth on my fingers.

  While Stilton hung up his hat and overcoat, I perched on the edge of a chair and devoured my bun.

  "Have another," he said, taking a seat at his desk.

  "Aren't you going to have any?" I asked, reaching for a second one.

  He shook his head. "I'm not hungry. They're all for you. And Henry, if you think he'd like some."

  I took a third then closed the box, realizing I should save some for Henry. Besides, it might make a good peace offering over the Book Incident.

  Stilton truly did look awful. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and his whole demeanor was dejected and droopy. "So," I said. "About last night..."

  Stilton looked away and began gathering some papers. "I'm most sorry about that, Miss Theo."

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he became very busy shuffling his papers and trying to get them in the right order. "Stilton," I finally said in exasperation. "What on earth possessed you to allow Trawley and the others to come into the museum after hours?"

  His shoulders slumped and he tossed the pile of papers back on his desk. "I had no choice, actually."

  "What do you mean, you had no choice?" Adults always had choices; it was us children who were usually boxed in.

  "He would have booted me from the Order." He looked distraught at the prospect.

  "Would that really have been so very bad?" I asked gently.

  Stilton's appalled gaze flew to mine. "Oh, yes! It would be terrible! Th-they're my family."

  "They're not much of a family," I pointed out.

  He looked away and began fiddling with the pen on his blotter. "They're all I have, miss."

  "But what about your real family? Don't you
have any brothers or sisters?" It was rather rude, asking such personal questions, but it seemed important that I understand Stilton better. Especially if I had any hope of ever trusting him.

  "Four brothers and two sisters, miss. All older than me." He glanced up and blinked rapidly. "You might say I'm the runt of the litter. In fact, my father often did," he said, making a valiant attempt at humor. He hauled himself to his feet and went over to study his bookshelf as if he were looking for something. "My brothers were all big, burly fellows, you see, and I, I wasn't. I was sickly as a child."

  I could only imagine the horror of being sickly with four hale and hearty older brothers to give you grief about it. "What about at school? Surely there were others like you there."

  "Not much luck there either, I'm afraid." He continued studying the bookshelf as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "Wasn't good at sports. And, you probably wouldn't know it, but I used to stutter a bit too."

  No need to spell out what that meant. I suddenly had a vision of a scrawny, stuttering ten-year-old Stilton and all the beastliness that awaited him at school; how utterly alone he must have been.

  "The Arcane Order of the Black Sun is the first place I've ever managed to fit in. They didn't care how tall I was or how strong. We shared a common interest that made everything else irrelevant." He turned from the bookshelf and straightened his shoulders a bit. "I guess you could say it's the fellowship part of it. Being united with colleagues in a common p-purpose."

  An awkward silence opened up between us. "But Stilton, what is their purpose? Do you know? Why did Trawley break in here last night?"

  Stilton ran a hand through his hair, and I saw that it was shaking. Badly. "To look for the staff that Whiting told him about. But also to test my loyalty. M-my punishment for not being able to manage you better."

  Manage me?

  "The loyalty test is normally used only when one becomes a full initiate of the Seventh Level, but the night before last Trawley administered it to me."