by Lana Axe
“Certainly,” Porchester said, handing it over.
After a few moments of silence, Lionel grinned. “There’s more to this than meets the eye.” From the leather case, he selected his smallest instrument and inserted it into the bottom of the amulet. Fiddling with it momentarily, he navigated the inner workings by feel. After placing the tool back on his desk, he held the amulet close to his ear. A broad smile crept over his face. Extending the scarab to Porchester, he said, “Listen.”
His brow wrinkled, but the Egyptologist gave no argument. Obeying the tinker’s directions, he held the amulet close to his ear. What he heard sent his eyebrows skyward. “It’s clockwork!” he shouted.
Cali and Emmit exchanged glances, both eager to hear more of an explanation.
“Those Egyptians were cleverer than either of us thought,” Lionel said.
Porchester turned the scarab over in his hand. “But what does it do? Should the wings be moving?” Having no precedent to tell him what purpose the clockwork mechanism inside should serve, he could only guess at the movement it should be creating.
“Those wings are fixed,” Lionel said, shaking his head. In truth, he had no idea what the mechanism did.
Cali meowed, hoping for a chance to inspect the amulet. Instead, Lionel took it as a sign of hunger.
“Maybe it’s a timer,” he suggested.
“Timer?” Porchester repeated.
“One with a little bell that chimes when it’s time to feed pharaoh’s cat.” Lionel seemed pleased with the explanation, though there was no evidence of it. What other purpose could an amulet worn by a cat serve? As far as he knew, cats thought of two things: sleep and food.
“I suppose it’s as good an explanation as any.” Porchester didn’t sound convinced. Though most Egyptian cats served as mousers, they were probably also given a steady diet of table scraps. The pharaoh’s own cat would have eaten well, no doubt. “Cats domesticated themselves, you know.”
“Is that so?” Lionel replied.
“Yes. They began as wild animals but moved into human-occupied areas in search of easier prey.” Porchester knelt to scratch Cali’s chin. He didn’t see the blur of blue-gray fur that disappeared behind the leg of Lionel’s chair. “Food storages were full of mice and rats, and they posed a serious threat to health and safety. The cats took care of the rodent problem, and the Egyptians fell in love with their grace and cunning. They left out scraps of food as a token of thanks, and the cats accepted them readily. Soon they invited those cats into their homes, and I suppose the rest is history.” After giving Cali’s fur a good rubbing, he said, “I believe all domestic cats descend from those ancient mousers. Someday science will prove it.”
Lionel shrugged. Cali’s ancestry meant little to him. She was his cat now, and that was all that mattered. One question did come to mind, though. “What’s the Egyptian word for cat?”
“Miu,” Porchester said.
Lionel grunted. Of course it would be something simple.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Porchester produced a few paper bills. “Is this sufficient?” he asked, handing the money to Lionel.
“More than,” the tinker replied. “I normally charge half this amount.” He tried to hand two of the bills back to the Egyptologist.
“Keep it,” he replied, holding up a hand. “You accepted the work on short notice, and I’ve kept you later than intended.”
Lionel pocketed the money. “You let me know if you need any more locks opened,” he said. “Or any other projects that might need a tinker.”
Porchester placed the amulet back inside its case and secured the lid, lifting it once to make sure it would still open. “I certainly will, Mr. Cogg.” He leaned down to give Cali a final pat on the head. “Now give this little one her dinner before she starves.”
Cali purred softly and pressed her nose against his hand. She followed Lionel as he saw his guest to the door and shook his hand. Once the door closed, Lionel headed straight to the kitchen to fetch Cali a treat.
While Cali enjoyed her snack, Emmit made a bold decision. He ignored all sense of caution and leapt for Mr. Porchester’s coattails, stowing away for a trip to the museum. It was the fastest route, far faster than his little mouse legs could have carried him. Though being spotted could mean his demise, he was confident in his ability to remain hidden. He kept perfectly silent and still, ensuring the Egyptologist sensed nothing of his presence.
Once they were inside the carriage, Emmit felt safe letting go. Porchester was distracted, staring down at the coffer and caressing the lid with his hand. Pride still beamed on his face. Emmit decided to risk peeking out the window on the far side of the carriage. Still and silent, he counted the lamp posts as they passed. From his position, he had a clear view of the sky. It was filled with a billion twinkling stars, and he allowed his mind to wander through them until the carriage came to a halt.
Lights projected on the museum’s façade gave it an eerie glow. Its stone columns shone white, its polished steps gleaming. Statues greeted visitors on either side, and a row of stone ladies looked down from an upper balcony. A half-circle window sparkled above them, reflecting the artificial lighting. Emmit found the building far more intriguing at night. Until now, he had looked upon it only in the daylight, and it seemed no better than any other large building. Tonight it was a place of mystery.
When Porchester let himself out of the carriage, Emmit was ready. He rushed forward and jumped as the man turned around, and grabbed onto his coattails once more. It was a perfect landing, and the Egyptologist was none the wiser.
Emmit’s heart raced as they ascended the steps and approached the door. Not a soul stood nearby, the museum having been closed for well over an hour. Porchester produced a set of keys and fidgeted with them until he found the correct one. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned it, and Emmit listened for the click, with his teeth firmly clenched.
When the door opened, Emmit took a deep breath. This was no time to collapse and end up stuck outside the entrance. Riding on Porchester’s coat, he avoided any need to rush for the door. This was the safest way to enter a building, and much easier than chewing through a wall.
Immediately the smell of old parchment and musty cloth hit him in the face like a brick. Stifling the choking sound in his throat, the little mouse avoided detection. After a few shallow breaths, he grew accustomed to the scent and found it less offensive. Soon wonder overcame his sense of smell, and his eyes beheld the feast before him. Glass cases as far as he could see, and free-standing statues all around, presented the mouse with a marvelous world. He felt as if he’d stepped back in time to a bygone age when animals were considered gods. Somewhere in this collection he’d find a mouse. Even if he had to study every hieroglyph, every broken pottery shard, every scrap of parchment. His kind couldn’t have been left out of this great civilization.
Dropping down on silent paws, Emmit abandoned his mode of transport. There was no further need to accompany Porchester, as he could simply stroll out whenever the doors were opened in the morning. This night he could spend in quiet study, taking his time to inspect each object on display. There were so many, he could scarcely decide where to begin.
The best way, he decided, was to start at the front and work his way to the back rather than zigzagging to the most interesting parts. That way he would be sure to cover every inch. It was a daunting task, but taken in small sections, he doubted it would overwhelm him. He would never grow bored when there was so much to see and learn.
With beady eyes as wide as they could go, Emmit studied the nearby stelae. There were animals all over them. The problem was, they all had human arms and legs. Only their heads appeared to be from the animal kingdom. Emmit grunted. He didn’t understand. Surely no creatures such as these had ever truly existed. Human-animal hybrids? Impossible. Tapping a finger against his chin, he thought, I suppose these creatures might be possible if an inventor like Lionel was around at the time. The mouse chuckled to hi
mself. He wondered which part might be clockwork—the human or the animal. He was about to settle on the human half when he noticed the plaque beneath one stela.
Ancient Egyptians believed that the gods and goddesses sometimes walked among them in animal form. This led to towns adopting their own sacred animals. Such animals were pampered and praised at local temples. Cats, baboons, various birds, frogs, lions, and snakes were only a few of the animals revered by this society.
Emmit nodded his approval of this practice. Though it made no mention of mice, he was determined to keep looking. He passed rows of mummies that all appeared human but paused when he reached the mummified cats. They were nicely done, their wrappings painted, their feline forms obvious through the thick cloth. It was clear they had been loved. Emmit smiled to himself, thinking of Cali. She was a good friend, and she deserved to be as revered as her ancient ancestors had been. Chuckling, he realized that Lionel thought the world of the calico, and that was probably just as good.
There also appeared to be two monkeys, a snake, and a small crocodile. Still he found no sign of mice. He studied the case of tiny statues, but none of the strange animals, who all wore funny hats, looked anything like a mouse. Still determined to find what he sought, Emmit pressed on toward a series of papyrus scrolls.
Staring at the hieroglyphs did him little good. He couldn’t understand them at all. Instead, he focused on skimming the translations, conveniently provided on plaques next to each scroll. When he saw the word “mice,” his breath was stolen away. His paws shook as he focused on the line, a passage referring to the god Amen-re: “He looks after the mice in their holes.”
Emmit’s heart nearly stopped. He couldn’t believe his eyes! Here it was in black and white. The gods of ancient Egypt did indeed care for mice. They must have been as important as any other animal, not just pests as they were considered in Ticswyk. More determined than ever, Emmit resumed his search.
He’d taken only two steps before the rattling of a glass door halted him in his steps. He looked up to see Porchester, opening a display case and placing the black coffer inside. The Egyptologist studied the amulet one more time before gently setting it inside its case. With the amulet in place, he proceeded to slide the exhibit glass shut.
The screeching of metal against metal echoed through the museum. Emmit’s hands instinctively covered his ears. Movement appeared at the corner of his eye, and he turned in time to see a golden sarcophagus slowly sliding open, untouched by human hands. The mouse’s jaw dropped, his feet frozen in place.
Porchester cried out in fear, his hands pressed to his heart. The sarcophagus lid crashed against the glass enclosure, a torrent of shards raining to the ground. The Egyptologist had seen enough. Fleeing with all speed, he sprinted toward the exit. Fumbling with his keys, he dropped them twice before unlocking the door.
Emmit was right behind him. He spared only a single glance back, his eyes wide with terror. Was that movement inside the sarcophagus? He didn’t wait to find out. As soon as Porchester threw open the door, Emmit ran through it. Porchester wasn’t far behind, leaving the museum entrance unlocked.
Though his wits were nearly gone, the Egyptologist managed to chase down a carriage and secure himself a ride. Emmit barely had time to leap for the man’s coattails before the horse lunged forward.
“Faster!” Porchester called to the driver.
The driver gave a nod, and the carriage picked up speed, traveling as fast as it could toward Lionel’s apartment.
All the color had drained from Porchester’s face by the time he reached his destination. Fumbling with his wallet, he paid the driver and asked him to wait a few minutes. Emmit hopped down onto the sidewalk and proceeded toward the window. Shaken as he was, he hadn’t lost all sense. He couldn’t stroll in the front door alongside Porchester. The man was so rattled that he’d probably try to stomp the poor mouse. And Emmit still had no idea how Lionel would react to his presence. Fear might have the mouse running, but it wouldn’t make him reckless. Ascending the bricks beneath the window, he found it cracked open just enough for a mouse to squeeze through.
Inside, all was as it should be. Lionel sat in his favorite reclining chair, and Cali was perched on the back of it. With carefully placed strokes of her rough tongue, she combed through the thinning brown hair on top of Lionel’s head. She chose to ignore the grimace on his face and continued with her grooming. When he tried to move his head away, she grabbed it with her paws and forced it back into position.
“Careful, now,” Lionel said. Apparently the feline didn’t know her own strength.
A brisk rapping at the door interrupted the grooming, and Lionel was happy for it. He hopped up unhindered and headed for the door.
“Cali!” Emmit squeaked, waving his paws.
The calico jumped down from the recliner and padded toward her friend. “Emmit,” she said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m not sure what I saw, to tell you the truth,” the mouse replied.
Halting their conversation, they focused on a disheveled Porchester, who shook visibly from head to toe.
“Mr. Cogg,” he said, panting. “You must come at once. It’s the amulet.” He doubled over, leaning his elbows against his knees.
“Come in and have a seat,” Lionel said, offering the man a hand. “What’s happened?”
“No, there’s no time,” he said. “A carriage is waiting. We must get back to the museum.”
“But why?” Lionel asked, reaching for his hat. What did the museum have to do with him?
“Bring your tools,” Porchester replied. “You’re the only one who can fix it.”
“Fix what?” Lionel asked, growing more confused. “How do I know which tools to bring?”
“Whatever you used on the amulet before,” he replied. “It’s done something. I don’t understand…” He trailed off, leaving Lionel to wonder what had happened.
“Back in a second,” Lionel said, rushing off to his workshop. He returned carrying two sets of fine tools wrapped in soft leather cases. “All right,” he said.
Without another word, Porchester grabbed him by the wrist and directed him toward the waiting carriage. Cali and Emmit exchanged a worried glance before rushing out behind them.
Wriggling free, Lionel returned to the door and secured the lock before tucking his key back into his hat. Mumbling his displeasure, he climbed into the seat. At the crack of a whip, the carriage lurched forward, slamming the tinker against the back of his seat. Cali hopped in his lap and mewed.
“I’m not sure you should be here,” he said to her. To Porchester, he asked, “You want to tell me what’s so urgent about that amulet?”
Cali purred to reassure him. Lionel often worried about bringing her along when the situation might be dangerous. She was good to have around in a sticky spot, but he wouldn’t deliberately put her in harm’s way.
“Mr. Cogg, I can hardly believe what I saw,” he began. “It opened the golden sarcophagus. The one we were never able to open before.”
Lionel’s expression showed a mix of confusion and intrigue. He offered no explanation for the strange occurrence. The amulet obviously did more than they had expected, far more than a trinket for a cat’s collar should do. A million questions bounced around in Cali’s head, but the dumbfounded expression on Porchester’s face suggested he had none of the answers. She would have to figure this out on her own.
The feline settled into Lionel’s lap, sensing his growing anxiety. Hoping her warmth would help soothe him, she remained put while keeping her eyes fixed on Emmit. The little mouse was crouched behind Lionel’s foot, hanging onto the tinker’s pant leg. Cali could sense his panic as well, though it was nowhere near as strong as Porchester’s. It took half her concentration to stop her own fur from bristling at the air he was putting off. As they drew closer to the museum, he began to chew his nails, further irritating the calico. She sighed with relief as the carriage finally came to a halt.
&n
bsp; Porchester leapt out with surprising agility. Cali followed second, then Lionel with Emmit still hanging on to his ankle. He wouldn’t release his grip until they were inside and he was certain that he wouldn’t be noticed.
“You left it unlocked at this time of night?” Lionel asked as the Egyptologist opened the door.
“I left in a hurry,” the man replied.
“Anyone could have gotten in,” Lionel said.
“Or out,” Porchester muttered.
Cali wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Inside, she kept a close eye on Emmit, waiting for him to release his hold on Lionel. With the two men heading toward the sarcophagus, the little mouse saw his chance. Swinging free, he landed next to Cali.
“You won’t believe it,” he said. “The amulet opened that sarcophagus.” He pointed with his tail.
Cali recognized the pharaoh’s sarcophagus, the one Porchester had said couldn’t be opened. Looks like he found a way. The lid had fallen to the side, crashing through the glass and leaving a mess behind. “Did you see the mummy?” she wondered.
Emmit shook his head. “No way was I sticking around for that,” he said.
With a dismissive wave of her paw, she said, “It’s just a mummy, like all those others.” She nodded toward the glass case containing the animal mummies.
“No,” Emmit said. “It’s a mummy like those.” He pointed to the human mummies concealed in their glass tombs.
“True,” she agreed. “But none of them can harm you.” She placed a paw on Emmit’s back to comfort him. He was still shaking. “What’s so upsetting?”