Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris Read online

  Father looked at me a moment longer, then nodded. "Makes as much sense as any of this," he said.

  A loud growl exploded through the foyer and we all turned to watch as the jackal lunged for Kimble, who scrambled back out of the way. Everyone was staring at the animal now, except for Stilton, who looked at me with open awe. The dolt. Could he be any more obvious? He was going to give away all my secrets if he wasn't careful.

  Beaton, hearing the commotion, came running back downstairs with his billy club out. Anubis glanced at him, then back at the men in front of him. Without warning, he leaped to the side, evading them all and heading straight for the front of the museum. When he reached the bank of windows, he launched himself up into the air and crashed through, shattered glass falling everywhere.

  There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the front door opened and Miss Sharpe walked in. "What on earth was that?"

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE A MUT TRAP

  ***

  I FOUND IT INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT to keep my mind on my lessons (and had my knuckles rapped a number of times for it--thank goodness I wore gloves!). My mind kept returning to the poor mummies from the other museums, wondering where on earth they were. The idea of them wandering around London, lost, was most distressing. However, I was certain we would hear of any reports of such a thing. Besides, it seemed to me that the mummies had always moved under the cover of darkness before. So perhaps they had gotten to wherever they were going the night before. Wherever they had gone.

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  I sat bolt upright, startling Miss Sharpe. "What is it, Theodosia?"

  "Nothing, Miss Sharpe. I just landed on a solution to this problem you gave me."

  But what had jolted through me like a bolt of lightning was that wherever the mummies had gone was most likely where the Serpents of Chaos--and the staff--could be found. The mummies responded to the staff; they were drawn to its power--that is the only place they would head.

  So if we found the mummies, we'd find the staff. Brilliant!

  All I had to do was remove the protective amulet from one of our mummies. It would be drawn by the power of the staff, and someone from the Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers could follow it straight to Chaos's headquarters.

  There was a sharp rap on the desk. "Theodosia!"

  I flinched. "Yes?"

  "I thought you said you'd worked out that problem, but you haven't written a thing."

  "Oh. Sorry. I was wrong. It wasn't the solution after all."

  Miss Sharpe's nostrils quivered in frustration. "Very well. I want you to now write out one hundred times, I will not be overconfident."

  It was going to be a long day. The only thing that kept me going was the idea that soon Will would arrive and I could turn this all over to Wigmere.

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  ***

  By midmorning, I had excused myself to go to the lavatory six times in an attempt to pass a message to Will. Miss Sharpe had taken to pinching me whenever I announced my need, and Stilton had stopped looking me in the eye after my third trip. Although I should have been embarrassed by the sheer indelicateness of it all, I had much bigger problems to worry about.

  Such as the fact that it was becoming clear that Will had no intention of showing up today. Was he put out with me and refusing to act as messenger anymore? Or had something happened to him? He had seemed quite worried about the Grim Nipper.

  There was one possibility I refused to allow myself to contemplate: that he wasn't showing up because he'd given in and done what the Grim Nipper had asked him to do.

  Without Will, I had to come up with an alternate plan. Of course, the simplest would be for me to follow the mummy myself, but I do have some sense (in spite of what Father says). Even I wasn't willing to wander around the streets of London by myself late at night. Taking a cab was one thing, but following a mummy on foot who was heading straight for the Serpents of Chaos? No. That was out of the question.

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  But what, then?

  I heard a creak outside the reading room and looked up to find Stilton peering in. Time for his late morning check, apparently. It was enough to stifle a sardine!

  But wait--the Black Sunners! They claimed to want to do my every wish and command. And they were grown men. I could have them follow the mummy. Of course, I'd give them the strictest instructions not to do anything--not to approach our mummy or the mummies they found or the Serpents of Chaos--but they could find the location for me. That would work.

  I wiggled my eyebrows at Stilton, who still hovered in the doorway, then jerked my head in Miss Sharpe's direction. He nodded, then cleared his throat. "Miss Sharpe?"

  She looked up from her book. "Yes, Mr. Stilton?"

  "I believe the constable was asking for you."

  A wrinkle of distaste crossed her face.

  Stilton shrugged apologetically. "They're questioning everybody, you know. It's nothing personal."

  An aggrieved sigh escaped from my governess. "Very well, but I must say, this is much more than I signed up for."

  Once she had left, Stilton slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. "What is it, Miss Theo?"

  "I have an assignment for you and the other scorpions."

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  His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes, O Bringer of Light. We live to serve you."

  "Yes, yes. So you've said. But here's what I need you to do ..."

  As I explained the plan to him, his eyes grew bigger and bigger and his face flushed with excitement. "So I was right, then. You can raise the dead."

  "Well, no. Not really." But it still didn't seem smart to explain about the staff. I was fairly certain I trusted Stilton, but I most definitely did not trust Trawley. And if Stilton told him about the staff, Trawley would most likely want it for his own.

  "I will get word to the grand master at once to ask for his permission."

  "Permission? But I thought you were assigned to me?" I distinctly remembered hearing them jaw on about adoration and being at my command.

  "Yes, Miss Theo, but we are assigned to watch over you. We will need permission if we are to leave your side."

  This was beginning to sound more and more like a prison every day. "Very well. But let me know as soon as you find out."

  He bowed low, but before I could tell him to stop that, he left the room and I was blissfully alone. Which lasted for

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  exactly two minutes before Miss Sharpe burst through the door, looking most put out. "Where is he?"

  "Who?" Although I knew perfectly well whom she meant.

  "Mr. Stilton, of course! The constable had no idea what I was talking about. Said he'd never asked to see me. I looked a right fool."

  "I'm sure it was an honest mistake," I said, wanting to keep Stilton out of as much trouble as possible.

  She sniffed. "I shall have to report him to Mr. Weems, as he is the only one who seems to have any sense around here."

  Which just went to show you how poor her judgment was.

  ***

  It was a long, tortuous afternoon. Miss Sharpe was in a beastly mood for having been made a fool of in front of the police (and wouldn't I have loved to see that!). She took it out on me by making me copy all sorts of rubbish from Mrs. Primbottom's Guide to Raising Perfect Children.

  It was all utter rot, and she was a fiend about my handwriting, which wasn't at its best because I startled at every little sound I heard, thinking it was Stilton come to report on Trawley's decision.

  Imagine my surprise when Vicary Weems interrupted us.

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  I can quite safely say it was the first time I was ever glad to see him.

  "Excuse me," he said, his chin high. "Yes, Weems?" I asked.

  "I wasn't talking to you," he said pointedly. "I was wondering if perhaps Miss Sharpe would like to share a cab ride home. To cut down on expense, you know."

  Miss Sharpe reached up and patted her hair. Honestly! Had someone delivered a c
ache of Cupid's arrows that no one had told me about?

  "That is very kind of you, Mr. Weems, but I don't think it's a good idea," Miss Sharpe said.

  In spite of all the pinches and knuckle rappings, in spite of all the wretched lines I'd been made to do, I leaned forward and whispered, "Don't worry. I shan't breathe a word to Grandmother about this."

  Her eyes grew round and she looked at me with charity for the first time since we'd met. "Oh. Well then, yes, thank you, Mr. Weems. That would be lovely."

  I nearly danced a jig. Everyone was finally leaving. Even better, as soon as Weems had escorted Miss Sharpe from the room, Stilton arrived.

  "Well?" I asked. "What did Trawley say?"

  Stilton gave me a slightly reproachful look. "The grand

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  master said that he would allow us to perform this favor for you if you would in turn do him a favor."

  "What? I thought it was just about giving you permission to leave my side?"

  Stilton's left shoulder twitched, and he looked sheepish. "The grand master wishes you to perform a small bit of magic for him. If you will agree to that, he will allow us to follow your mummy."

  "What sort of magic?" I asked, immediately suspicious.

  "To be determined at a later date, but mutually agreed upon by the both of you."

  If we had to mutually agree upon the feat of magic, that gave me some wiggle room. "Very well. If that's the only condition under which he will agree."

  "It is."

  These Black Sunners were shaping up to be far more trouble than they were worth. I checked my watch. "It's six thirty now. I'm fairly sure that mummies are only ambulatory when the moon is out."

  "Moonrise is at five after ten."

  I blinked. "How'd you know that?"

  "The almanac. In our rituals, we pay very close attention to the phases of the moon."

  "Yes, but you're called the Black Sun."

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  "It's a code name for the dark of the moon, when magic is at its most powerful."

  "Very well. Let's meet at the top of the stairs leading down to the basement at ten o'clock, then. I've got something I've got to do beforehand."

  ***

  The newest round of missing mummies had poor Father stretched to the breaking point. He was convinced our mummies would go missing any minute. In fact, Father was so nervous that he had sworn to spend the night in the museum again--with shotgun firmly in hand.

  Which was why I needed to rid the museum of this most recent disgruntled spirit that had attached itself to us; to protect Father. Why couldn't it have stayed with the mummy it rode in on? It wasn't as if I didn't have enough to do, what with mummies running loose in London, Will dabbling in questionable behavior and being followed by the Grim Nipper, a wretched governess stifling my every move, an ancient Egyptian god in jackal form coming to life, and seven inept scorpion guards acting, quite frankly, mad as hatters.

  But of course, that was the whole point of chaos, wasn't it? My life was absolute bedlam. If the Egyptian god of Chaos were watching, he'd be deliriously happy.

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  Well, as soon as I got rid of this vicious spirit, that would be one less chaotic element to deal with.

  I just had to decide where to set my mut trap. Spirits tended to lurk close to the final resting place of their mummified bodies, so I had to assume that this spirit would lurk close to its mummy's last known location: the foyer. This created a bit of a complication, because I had to get the trap set before Father wandered down with his shotgun to post guard.

  I had managed to remain fairly purified throughout the day. The diciest moment came when Mother sent Dolge round for meat pies for dinner. I was starving by then but didn't dare have one for fear of ruining all the purification bother I'd gone through that morning. I settled for two jam sandwiches instead and tried not to feel sorry for myself. (Have I mentioned the extreme amount of fortitude one must have for curse removal?)

  I stood at the edge of the foyer, trying to determine the best place to set the traps. Ideally, I should set one in each corner, corresponding with the four points of the compass.

  In order to prepare the area for the ritual, the first step was to sprinkle the area with holy water (which had been most difficult to obtain). Using as little as possible in order to conserve my supply, I sprinkled drops across the entire

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  floor. Next, I was to sweep the room of any evil influences with a broom made from the branches of a persea tree. As London had none of these that I knew of, I settled for a broom made of willow twigs, the willow being sacred to Osiris and as such would hopefully have some authority over dead spirits.

  Once I'd swept the floor with the broom, my next step was to cleanse the air with holy smoke or incense. This was tricky because I was specifically prohibited from using lucifer matches, but how else did one get holy smoke than by fire? It had taken me quite a bit of thinking to work out a solution to this one, but I finally decided a mist of perfume from my curse-removal kit would work, it being the next best way to fill the air with cloying scent. Of course, I couldn't afford the kind that smelled truly lovely. Instead I had bought something called "An Evening's Enchantment" (even the name was perfect!), which smelled like a combination of wood smoke, violets, and vanilla.

  Once I'd sprayed that throughout the foyer, I was ready to begin.

  According to T. R. Nectanebus, I could use either clap nets or lassos of rope to catch the evil spirit. The museum did have two clap nets, but it would certainly raise all sorts of questions if Father found them hanging in the foyer. Rope

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  was a little less noticeable and could hopefully be explained away as building maintenance.

  The trick would be getting the rope up into the corners of the ceiling. I was rather short (as most eleven-year-old girls are), and the two ladders we had in the museum were much too heavy for me to drag into the foyer.

  Not to mention someone would surely notice.

  I had to settle for leaving the lassos on the floor. In order to compensate for this, I made sure to place something inside the traps to attract the evil spirits: horehound candy. Now, I know that horehound tastes vile, and whoever thought to call it a sweet should have their head examined. However, the Egyptians believed that the demon and ghost worlds were upside down and backwards from ours, so whatever was sweet and tasty to us would be bitter to them and whatever was horrid to us would taste sweet to them.

  Besides, how else was I going to get rid of this foul stuff that Grandmother had given me for Christmas?

  After placing a piece of the horehound candy into the middle of each loop of rope, I also placed a small bit of wax. If it became discolored, I would know a disgruntled or cursed spirit had crossed into the loop.

  "Good heavens!" Father's voice boomed from behind me, making me jump. "What is that foul stench?"

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  It was "An Evening's Enchantment" cologne mixed with horehound candy, of course, but all I said was, "What stench, Father? I don't smell anything."

  (I must say, keeping as many secrets as I do is an awful burden. I don't like it one bit. It makes me feel sneaky, which I'm not. Not really. It's just that I've learned the need for caution when discussing magic with grownups. They simply refuse to even entertain the possibility! What's worse, they give you worried, squinty-eyed looks if you bring it up, and you can be sure a nice long stay in a sanitarium or boarding school out in the country is your next stop. So really, it's all their own fault I couldn't confide in them.)

  "And what on earth are you doing here?" he asked. "You should have been asleep hours ago."

  "Yes, I know. I was just coming to tell you and Mother good night."

  "Oh, well, good night, then."

  "Good night, Father."

  I skedaddled off to find Stilton. It was time to let loose a mummy.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR TETLEY TAKES A TRIP

  ***

  I THOUG
HT LONG AND HARD about which mummy to send. In the end, there was only one choice: Tetley. I simply couldn't bring myself to desecrate one of the genuine mummies by making him wander around London at night. Tetley used to be a part of the Serpents of Chaos, so really, it was rather like releasing him so he could return home.

  "Why are we going down to the basement?" Stilton asked.

  "I don't want to defile an ancient mummy, so I thought I'd use Chudleigh's fake and it's down here."

  "Won't that be defiling an Englishman, then?" Stilton asked, slightly shocked.

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  "Not really. He used to work with these men. It seems much more fair to have him do it rather than a royal scribe from the Middle Dynasty. Now, come on."

  I started down the stairs, surprised at how comforting it was to have another person coming with me. I waited on the bottom step, listening for any sign of movement. There was none.

  "I say, what's Weems's coat doing down here?" Stilton asked, breaking the silence. "He's been looking for that. Making a huge stink, too, he is."

  "Oh, sorry. I snagged it because I was cold. I mistook it for Father's." I did not want to tell Stilton about the Anubis statue. The more I learned about Trawley and his organization, the less I wanted them to know about me and the magic around here. "Come on. Tetley's over there."

  Tetley stood where I had left him, propped against the wall in his desiccated combination suit.

  "So, how are you going to get him to move?"

  I took a deep breath and tried not to look into Tetley's face. "By removing this." I plucked the Blood of Isis amulet from Tetley's skinny, sunken chest. The air around us gave a shudder, as if an invisible wall of some sort had come down.

  "I say, what was that?" Stilton asked in a hushed voice.

  "The protection being removed."