The Ankh of Isis: The Library of Athena, Book 2

by Christine Norris

  “He knew about the Library?”

  Megan wanted to say no, but when she thought about it, she couldn’t. “You know, I’m not really sure what he knew or didn’t know, except that he did know about the ankh.” She proceeded to tell Bailey all that had happened with Mr. Hemmlich and their adventure inside the book.

  Something occurred to her. “Come to think of it, I wonder why he thought Sir Gregory even knew where it was in the first place.”

  Bailey did not seem the least bit surprised, but the butler hardly ever seemed surprised about anything. He pursed his lips as if he were thinking about something. He gave a brief nod and turned to Diedrich. “I am most sorry for your loss, Master Hemmlich.”

  Diedrich, who looked a little more composed, gave a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  Megan pressed the long stem of the ankh between her hands and twirled it. There was an uncomfortable silence. “We should go to the vault now, and put this away.”

  “Of course. Follow me.” Bailey made a crisp turn and walked off between the shelves toward the opposite side of the room. Megan, Rachel, Claire and Diedrich followed. When they reached the center aisle, Bailey came to an abrupt stop.

  “I would ask that only Miss Megan continue from here, please.”

  “Why?” Rachel asked. “I’ve been in the vault before.”

  “Yes, miss, I know. But if you would please wait here, we won’t be long.”

  Rachel gave Megan a look that asked if she would be all right and did she want Rachel to come with her anyway? Megan gave a quick shake of her head—she thought there might be some purpose behind his request. Bailey didn’t do anything without good reason. She and the butler continued their journey between the long stacks that filled the huge room.

  “Why didn’t you want my friends to come with me?”

  “Because,” Bailey said, just loud enough for Megan to hear. “It is time that you, as the Librarian, learned to open the vault yourself.”

  “What? I can’t do that?”

  “You’ve more than earned the right. So why in heavens not?”

  “The vault is opened by magic,” Megan said. “And I can’t do magic.”

  Bailey waved a hand at her, as if brushing away a bug. “Nonsense. You have as much potential as anyone else. Sir Gregory taught himself, remember?”

  “Uh, well…”

  “I learned to do it, and I am no wizard, I assure you. It’s very simple, you’ll see.”

  Megan tried to think of some other reason she shouldn’t be able to open the vault, but couldn’t come up with a single one. She had to admit that the thought of being able to work magic, even a small bit, was more than a little intriguing.

  Finally, some perk to this pain-in-the-butt job.

  Her shrug didn’t let on how excited she was. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to try.”

  “That’s the spirit.” They arrived at the other end of the stacks. Just like the opposite wall, this was covered in a rack of small, square cubbyholes, and Megan remembered the library in the temple of Edfu. The rack went to the ceiling—a ladder leaned against it to reach the higher cubbies—and ran the length of the wall. Except for one place right in the middle. This space was empty except for a small carved-stone owl that stuck out from it at about Megan’s head height.

  “Now,” Bailey said in a manner that said Megan’s lesson had begun. “The spell to open the vault is very simple. You must place your hand on the owl’s head and say ‘Pseudothyrum expositus’.”

  Megan lifted both eyebrows. “What?”

  “Pseudothyrum expositus. It’s Latin for ‘open secret door’.”

  “Ah. I’ll have to remember that for my Latin class. So that’s all I have to do?”

  “Not quite. Visualization and intent are the most important parts. With your mind’s eye, see the door already open. You must see it clearly, understand, or the words won’t do any good. You also have to want the door to open.”

  Megan pulled her shoulders back and stepped up to the owl. She cleared her throat and put her hand on the smooth stone head. It felt cool beneath her fingers and slightly sweaty palm. “Pseudo, uh…tryem—”

  Bailey sighed. “Pseudo-thy-rum expo-sit-us. And visualize.”

  Megan closed her eyes and tried to remember what the vault door looked like when it was open. She saw the stones in the wall rearrange themselves into a narrow open arch in the wall. She willed the door to open. Come on…

  “Pseudothyrum expositus.”

  Her hand tingled with static electricity, like when she shuffled her feet across a carpet and touched something metal, except that instead of a quick shock, this tingle lasted several seconds. Megan yanked her hand back. The owl melted into the wall and the stones moved around until they were shaped into the narrow arched doorway she had seen in her head.

  Megan stared at her hand, which looked no different or worse for wear, and then at the open arch, eyes wide. “I did that? That’s so cool!”

  Bailey chuckled, and it sounded rusty, as if he didn’t use it often. “You have successfully activated the spell that Sir Gregory put there, yes. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I don’t suppose you need me to tell you to keep this part a secret, even from your closest friend?”

  Megan nodded, still staring at the wall. “No, Bailey, I understand. I don’t think she’d believe me anyway.”

  “Being the Librarian does have its drawbacks. Keeping secrets even from those whom you trust the most is one.”

  Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.

  Megan walked into the vault and stopped. Something about what Bailey said reminded her of something. “Bailey, let me ask you something.”

  “Yes, miss?” Bailey walked into the vault and around Megan.

  “Does anyone, besides the people that you know of, know about the Library?”

  The butler didn’t turn, but answered in an offhand manner. “No, miss. I don’t believe so. Why would you ask?”

  Josef Hemmlich’s last words echoed in Megan’s head. “Uh, no reason. Never mind.” She didn’t want to upset Bailey over what was probably nothing. If there were other people out there searching for the ankh, well, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.

  Everything was so out of control and confusing—we were dead for cripes’ sake. I probably heard him wrong anyway.

  She took a deep breath and shook off the feeling of unease that had come over her. Just heard him wrong, or he was trying to make me nervous. Nothing to worry about. No one else will come looking.

  A series of shelves ran along the left-hand side of the vault. Each one had a small tag attached to the front of it. Written on each, in Sir Gregory’s elegant handwriting, was the name of an artifact. Most of the shelves were empty, their contents inside the enchanted books. The Ankh of Isis’s shelf was one of the first, nearest the door. Megan stood on tiptoe and put the heavy golden icon in its place.

  Another tag caught her eye as she lowered her heels to the floor.

  “The Book of Thoth.” The shelf was empty. “So was the book we found in the basilisk’s lair the real one?”

  Bailey shook his head. “No. The real one was never found. Sir Gregory thought he knew the location, and made a place ready for it. But that expedition never took place.”

  “The one we found—”

  “Was just part of the story, based on Sir Gregory’s research into the real book.”

  Megan gave the butler a puzzled look. “What about the spell that Diedrich read? He said he could talk to animals. That was real. I mean, he talked to the horses, at least he said he did. He definitely understood the Benu, who told us how to reach… Oh, I see. If nobody had read the spell, we wouldn’t have been able to…but we figured out how to put out the fire by ourselves. The exact method, I mean.”

  “But the bird is what put you on the path, wasn’t it?” Bailey gave a knowing smile. “You see, there was a method to Sir Gregory’s madness. Each task had to be
completed in turn.”

  “But what would have happened if Diedrich hadn’t been with us? The spell was in Ancient Egyptian.”

  “That’s a good question,” Bailey said. “To be honest, I don’t know. Did you look at the book?”

  Megan nodded. “The clue was in the back, in English. So we could get to the next place, but…”

  Bailey shrugged. “You said you figured out how to put out the fire by yourselves. I can’t pretend to speak for Sir Gregory, but maybe the spell was for added effect. He did like a bit of drama.”

  “I guess that means that Diedrich can’t talk to animals anymore.”

  “No, the spell was part of the story and ended when you came out of the book.”

  “I wonder if he’ll be upset.” She remembered the look on his face when he realized he’d never see his father again. Probably not. He’s got other things to upset him.

  They stepped out of the vault and back into the library. Megan waited for the doorway to turn itself back into the wall, but nothing happened.

  “Why doesn’t it close?” With a puzzled look, she turned to Bailey. “I can’t remember how it closed last time.”

  “You must close it,” Bailey said. “This will be your second lesson in magic.” He stood behind her and spoke into her ear. “Raise your hand, palm outward. Visualize the wall, whole again.”

  Megan did as he said, her faced screwed up in concentration.

  “Now, just wave your hand across the entrance.”

  She waved her hand and opened her eyes. The door was still there.

  “Concentrate,” Bailey said. “Pull the stones together in your mind. Want it to close.”

  Megan tried again. Her brow furrowed, her mind bent on its task. She opened one eye, and dropped her arm. “I can’t do it.”

  Bailey patted her on the shoulder and gave her a sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, dear, with time, and practice, you will.”

  He lifted his own arm and, with very little effort and the same gesture Megan had used, the stones knit themselves back into a solid wall, owl and all.

  They walked through the stacks to where they left Megan’s friends.

  “Bailey?”

  “Yes, miss?”

  “Why didn’t Sir Gregory use the ankh’s power for himself? He could have stayed alive forever if he wanted.”

  Bailey turned and faced Megan with a wistful look. “Don’t think he didn’t consider it, especially toward the end of his life. Mortality and all its trappings—disease, old age, the slowing of one’s body and mind—is something from which no man is immune.” He took a deep, ragged breath.

  “But in the end, Sir Gregory realized that he didn’t have the right to cheat death. That eventually his existence would become one of isolation and grief, and while he remained ageless, those close to him would move on without him.”

  “That’s totally messed up.” Megan nodded slowly. “I never thought of that.”

  Bailey gave a thin smile. “The young never do.”

  “Bailey, let me ask you something else.” She took a deep breath. “Do you think this, I mean, all of this…” she waved her arm around the Library, “is worth it?”

  The butler seemed to consider it for a moment before he answered. “The things within these walls…could change the course of human history. For the good, or the bad. They need protection from both.”

  “Both?”

  “People with the best of intentions often stumble down the primrose path to evil. If everything stays here, and stays safe, no one can corrupt them, unintentionally or no.”

  Megan still had mixed feelings about her role in protecting the Library, but Bailey’s explanation helped her. Rachel and she were still as close as ever, and they could shut the door on this horrible experience, and get back to their normal lives.

  It doesn’t make what Diedrich’s dealing with any easier.

  The girls and Diedrich were all still in the center aisle. Claire and Rachel talked with their heads together. Diedrich leaned against the end of one of the bookcases, his face turned to the domed ceiling, watching the sky turn from pink to robin’s-egg blue. He glanced at Megan and Bailey as they approached.

  Megan thought he looked so much older now, like he had aged years in the short time they had been inside the book.

  “How come no one knows we were gone?” Diedrich said. “We spent, what, three nights in that book?”

  “Well, let’s put it this way. When you read a book, there are a whole bunch of days in the story, right?” Megan said. “But you can read a whole book in one day. It’s like that.”

  Diedrich didn’t look like he quite got it.

  Megan shook her head—she’d explain again later. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” She took his hand led him to the door. Rachel and Claire wore matched expressions of sympathy, but remained silent, falling into line behind Megan.

  “If you would, miss, just close the door behind you. I will go and retrieve the ankh’s book and put it in its rightful place.” With a quick bow, Bailey turned on his heel and walked away.

  Upstairs, the entrance hall was filled with soft light. Megan closed the secret door and joined her friends on the landing.

  “How are we going to explain this to your dad?” Rachel said. “He’s going to want to know where Mr. Hemmlich’s got to.”

  Megan shook her head, closed her eyes and took a deep sigh. She didn’t want to think about that yet, only savor this moment of peace.

  “I’ll figure out something.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “What about you, Diedrich? What are you going to do now?”

  Diedrich’s face was pale and expressionless. He looked as if he were made of wax. He lifted his head from his chest, his gaze fixed on Megan. He gave her a bewildered look, as if he had been thinking of something else and caught off guard. “I’m, uh, going to call my mother, if that’s okay.”

  Megan nodded.

  He rubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end at strange angles. “She’s in Switzerland. I’ll call her and tell her I want to come and stay with her. I don’t know what I’ll tell her about Father, but…”

  “We’ll think of something,” Megan said. “Right now I think you should go and lie down.”

  “Yes.” Diedrich’s eyes blanked out again. He nodded. “Lie down. Rest. Sounds good.” He walked, still in a trance-like state, down the stairs and toward the front door. Megan caught him by one elbow and spun him around. She pointed him in the direction of the room he was staying in and watched him walk up the stairs and down the hall.

  “He’s in a right state, isn’t he?” Rachel said.

  “Wouldn’t you be if you just lost a parent?” Megan said, and a familiar pain shot through her heart. “I think I lost three whole days after my mom died. It was like walking through a fog.”

  “Such a shame,” Claire said with a slow nod of her head.

  Megan puffed out her cheeks and held her breath for a second, then let it all out in a cathartic rush. “Yeah, it is.”

  “Bright side?” Rachel said with a small, silly smile. “I’m totally going to get an A on my history paper.”

  “It’s a pity your father had to leave so suddenly,” Megan’s dad said to Diedrich over breakfast. He picked up a forkful of western omelet. “Where did you say he went?”

  Diedrich cleared his throat. Megan had come up with a good story and, after a few hours of blessed and peaceful sleep, walked Diedrich through it on the way downstairs to the dining room, where Maggie had a late brunch waiting for them. Megan had learned from Miranda, the head housekeeper, that Bailey had informed the staff about what happened in the Library, including the reason for Mr. Hemmlich’s sudden disappearance.

  “He got a call on his cell late last night,” Diedrich said. His eyes remained on the French toast and sausages on his plate. He almost sounded like a robot. Megan hoped her normally clueless father wouldn’t notice. “There was some emergency at the museum. He left so quickly, I don’t
even think he packed his things.”

  Megan’s father nodded. “Ah, of course. I understand those things happen.” But the look on his face said he wasn’t quite certain what sort of an emergency at a museum would require leaving in the middle of the night.

  It was the best I could come up with. I’ll just have to make him believe it later. I hate to lie to him, but would he believe the truth? Poor Dad.

  Her father chewed slowly, and took a gulp of coffee. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish, of course, Diedrich.”

  Diedrich swallowed. “Thank you, sir, that’s very generous, but my mother is expecting me tomorrow. I will stay with her until it is time to return to school.”

  After brunch, Diedrich and the girls stood by the front door, where Claire and Rachel said their goodbyes.

  “Good luck,” Claire said. “Keep in touch.”

  “Chin up,” Rachel said. “It will be all right.”

  Diedrich gave each of them a hug. “It has been a pleasure meeting both of you.”

  The girls left for home, and Megan and Diedrich hiked upstairs to pack Mr. Hemmlich’s things. Miranda had offered to do it, but Diedrich wanted to do the job himself.

  “I think it will give this whole—ordeal—some solidity, some closure,” he said sadly.

  Megan understood. Her father had taken a year to go through her mother’s things. His words echoed in Megan’s memory.

  “If I get rid of them, I’ll have to admit she’s really gone.”

  Diedrich opened the closet and pulled out an array of suits, shirts and ties, and dropped them on the bed. Megan opened the top drawer of the antique bureau and emptied out socks, handkerchiefs and underthings.

  Buried at the bottom, she found a small, leather-bound journal. It looked very familiar, and she almost panicked before she realized it was not Sir Gregory’s diary. Mr. Hemmlich’s own initials were stamped in the bottom corner of the brown cover. There was also something else stamped into the soft calf’s skin.

  “Diedrich,” Megan said. “Come here for a sec?” She pulled the book out of the drawer and showed it to him.

  “Do you know what this symbol is?” she asked. It was like an upside-down horseshoe with little feet.