“I have to give Beekeeper Simon credit,” Cami chimed in, sipping from her milkshake. “It was his idea to observe Bobbit from the rear balcony of the Blabbingdale house. It gave us a perfect shot of Bobbit’s front window.”
“We also had a bathroom to use during the stakeout, which was a lucky thing,” Andrew said through a mouthful of muffin. “And when the flame balls started falling from the sky, we had a place to hide. Had we been outside, it could have been a bad scene.”
Will stared off in the distance, not really listening.
“William. What’s wrong?” Cami could read him better than the others.
“My aunt Lucille. She was in the jail when it burned last night. They can’t find her. She’s probably—” He pressed the backs of his hands to his eyes.
Nobody said anything. Cami lightly touched his arm.
The waitress, Miss Ravinia, a brawny lady with clown-red hair and a voice like a bugle, dropped a plate on the table. “Here’s one Puffer-Fluff for the young man.” When none of the kids reacted, she turned serious. “Did I interrupt something? I’m so sorry, y’all.”
“It’s all right, thank you,” Simon managed, focused on Will.
But Ravinia didn’t move. Instead, her heavily lined eyes roamed beneath the nearby tables. She spoke distractedly, “Let me know if y’all see a beige cat. Mr. Roberts has been coming around lately, but with all the bugs and hail, we can’t find him. Bub’s really worried about that little tabby.”
All three kids stared at her in disbelief. “If we see a beige cat, we’ll let you know,” Andrew said curtly.
Once Miss Ravinia left the table, Cami leaned over to Will. “Do you want me to come with you to find your aunt Lucille? The sheriff’s office might have moved her somewhere else.”
“I don’t think so. She was in her cell.”
“Andrew can ask his dad to help us,” Cami said, nodding toward Andrew. “Come on, I’ll go help you look.” She started to get up.
Will grabbed her by the arm. “We’ve already spoken with the police. She’s gone.”
Cami would have insisted, but the way Will shook his head made it clear that he did not want to discuss it further. So she quietly sat back down.
To change the subject, Simon pulled out his plague list. “Long story short, none of us think Bobbit is your demon. It’s not plausible,” he whispered to Will. “The real problem is: with the arrival of the locusts, there is only one more plague before death comes.”
“Tell me something I don’t know!” Will said, a trace of fear in his voice. “It doesn’t matter what you all saw. Bobbit has the staff. He had a partner-in-crime at Peniel, he hated my aunt Lucille, and he probably had a hand in getting her locked up. I say we go to his place and confront him.”
“Confront him with what?” Andrew challenged. “Tell him that the woman who works for him thinks he’s a demon who hates your aunt?”
“You all do what you want to do.” Will forcefully pushed away from the table, slipping his backpack on. “I’m going to Bobbit’s. He’s not getting away with this.”
Cami and Andrew called after Will, but he bolted into the street without even touching his favorite pastry. They ran after him. Simon tossed a few dollars on the table, slipped into his beekeeper outfit, and hopped into the street like he was running a sack race.
“Strange kids,” Miss Ravinia said toward the kitchen. She picked at her red bouffant with a pencil. “Just like our furry friends. More trouble than they’re worth.”
In the front window of Bobbit’s Bestiary, Will saw Crocket cleaning a display case that normally housed puppies. He burst into the front door, sending the attached bell flipping loudly in all directions.
“Where’s Mr. Bobbit?” he fumed at the old man.
“You’d better pipe down, kid,” Crocket said, leaving the window display. “Get control of yourself. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“I need answers!” Will yelled out, “Mr. Bobbit? Are you here?”
Bobbit, looking gray with droopy red-rimmed eyes, stumbled from the back of the store. He was slightly stooped. “What do you want?” he heaved.
“I want to know where the Staff of Moses is. I want to know why you hate my aunt Lucille.”
Bobbit looked confused, disoriented. “Staff of what?” He leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to the side of his ample belly. “Get out of here. I can’t talk to you now. Crocket, make him leave.”
Will cut his eyes at the old assistant, who remained where he was. Will got in Bobbit’s face. “Why did you say my aunt Lucille was a threat?”
“I never said—” Bobbit barked. “You mean the woman at the museum up the hill? Lucille Wilder?”
“You wanted her in jail, didn’t you? So you and Pothinus Sab could use the Staff of Moses. WHERE IS THE STAFF?”
“I don’t have any staff. I’ve never had a staff.” Bobbit was desperate, like a cornered animal, his eyes rolling around.
“You’re lying. You’re cruel and you’re a liar,” Will bawled.
“Easy, boy. Stop that now,” Crocket counseled from the side.
Cami, Simon, and Andrew barged into the shop. Crocket raised two thin arms to hold them back.
“Why are you asking me these things?” Bobbit whimpered. “I’m not a well man. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Miss Ann told me everything! Miss Ann? MISS ANN?” Will looked around the store. “Where is Miss Ann?”
“I don’t know a Miss Ann,” Bobbit said absently, pulling at the fat of his neck. “There’s no Ann here.”
Will stared the man down. “She works for you. Now you don’t even know your own employees? Mr. Bobbit, you’re lying.”
“I am not lying! I don’t know…I’m so confused.” He buried his head in his hands. When he lifted it, he seemed a different man, hatred filling his eyes. “Get out of here, boy. All of you OUT!”
In a flash, Will saw something he had never seen before. For a few seconds, Mr. Bobbit’s face took the shape of a furious raven. He might have been wearing a semitransparent mask, only this beak moved and was filled with sharp teeth.
Amon! It’s Amon.
Will scuttled backward, frantically reaching into his backpack. He fingered the flat reliquary holding the Veil of the Virgin, which he had taken from his great-grandfather’s office. If ever he needed a relic that dispelled anger, this was it. He pulled the relic out and pointed it toward Bobbit.
“Nooo! Nooo!” Bobbit screeched in a voice not his own. He grabbed at his stomach and staggered against the wall. “Get it away from me!”
After several seconds, Crocket called out to Will in a deep voice, “William, that is enough!” The old man stood straight up, his hunchback disappearing. He clawed at the skin under his nose and around his mouth—ripping the flesh away.
A horror-stricken Simon squealed, “I think I’m going to throw up.” He grabbed Andrew and Cami, pulling them to the doorway.
Crocket dropped his shredded face to the floor. “William, step away and calm yourself,” he said.
Will knew that voice. He turned to find Abbot Athanasius in Crocket’s clothes, bits of latex hanging from the side of his face.
“You’re Crocket?” Will asked.
“I have been watching Mr. Bobbit for weeks. Had you not been so blinded by anger, you might have recognized me. I’ll explain later,” the abbot said. “Since he may be possessed—or at least oppressed by the demon—you should step away, William. The relic has done its work.” Athanasius glided toward Bobbit.
“That’s one cool dude,” Andrew said, nodding in admiration as the abbot passed.
Though a bit calmer, Bobbit was still bewildered. “Crocket? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to help you.” Athanasius handed him a small vial of water. “Drink this. It will combat the foul contents of that tonic Sab has been feeding you.”
Bobbit swallowed the whole vial. His mouth stretched sideways in pain. “It hurts. It hurts
so.”
Athanasius crouched next to the shattered man. The abbot closed his eyes and began intensely reciting something in a low voice. Will only caught a bit of it: “Adjuro te, Amon, serpens antique, per judicem vivorum et mortuorum, per factorem tuum…” Turning his palms up, Athanasius touched his forefingers and thumbs together, making an O with each hand. That’s when Will saw a blue neon wisp of light move through the abbot’s extended fingers to Bobbit’s stomach. Bobbit writhed in the corner, unleashing a string of inhuman yowls.
“Exi ergo, transgressor,” the abbot continued. “Exi, seductor, plene omni dolo et fallacia…”
A billowy purple fog spilled from Bobbit’s gaping mouth, his arms fully extended. Will started to sneeze from the foul smell. After several minutes it was over. A spent Bobbit collapsed in the corner. He regarded the store with confusion, like he had just woken from a terrible nightmare and couldn’t quite situate himself.
“I should never have gotten involved with Sab. His tonic made me worse. It made me hunger for things I never…” Bobbit caught sight of the empty cages lining the walls. “Where are all my birds? My macaws and finches—my geese.” He placed two hands along the sides of his head, a vain attempt to hold back the horrible memories surfacing.
“Oh no, no, no…I delivered them all to Sab this morning. He wanted everything. Every last animal”—Bobbit began moaning—“and I gave them to him.”
“You ate them, too, didn’t you?” Andrew asked.
“Only once. In my whole life, I’d never eaten one of my animals. But I couldn’t stop myself. I yearned for them—all the time,” Bobbit said with shame. “I only gave in once, that’s the truth. I ate only one goose.”
The abbot whispered to Will, “It was probably the spirit of Amon within him. The demon entered and partially controlled him via the tonic.”
“What about Miss Ann?” Will asked, shaken.
“There is no Ann,” Bobbit said quietly.
“And the staff? She said—Do you have the staff?”
“I truly don’t know what you are talking about,” Bobbit said.
The abbot gently turned to Will. “This Ann—or whomever it was you spoke with—was visible only to you. I saw you here myself conversing with thin air. She was a spirit of some kind. There’s no use fretting about it now. You’ll figure it all out by the end.” He straightened the tattered sweater he wore, turning to the kids. “I’ll tend to Mr. Bobbit. I want all of you to return to Peniel straightaway. It’s important that you go now.” Cami, Andrew, and Simon (still in his beekeeper outfit) headed out the door.
Athanasius touched Will on the shoulder. There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, as if they held some wonderful secret. “When you arrive, William, go immediately to the Chapter House. There is something you must see there.” His smile puzzled Will. But rather than press the abbot to explain further, he raced to Peniel to find his own answers.
The televisions of Perilous Falls were almost universally tuned to coverage of the locust invasion. After nine hours of continuous insect reportage, the viewers needed a change of pace. So the producers at Sidon Channel 8 broke away to an “inspirational special”: a prerecorded interview with Mayor Ava Lynch and Pothinus Sab.
The unsuspecting might have thought that they had stumbled upon a very odd “home shopping” channel. Sab held up his now-ubiquitous amulet, touting its many virtues, “particularly in moments of crisis or strife.” The mayor spent most of her time reinforcing Sab’s pitch with an occasional “absolutely” or “that is so true.” The duo weren’t selling the Ammit necklaces. They were urging people to come down to the Karnak Center and pick up their own amulet, compliments of the city. For the homebound, a Sidon news van—by special arrangement—would be driving through Perilous Falls and adjoining counties, distributing the amulets as long as supplies lasted.
Over on WPF Channel 4, images of a farmer tearfully watching locusts devour his tomato crop were interrupted by a special report.
Deborah Wilder, looking glamorous and determined, teased viewers from the anchor desk: “Is it safe for you and your family to wear Pothinus Sab’s free amulets? Or are they part of a dark pagan belief system? I spoke with Pothinus Sab himself and an expert to get answers.”
The camera cut to an interview with a “distinguished professor of archaeology,” an Egyptologist named Dr. Franz Xaver von Neuhaus. The man had a high forehead, heavily lidded eyes, and black half-glasses. He leaned back in his chair, dangling one of the amulets from his fingers.
“Zeese are most dangerous,” he said in a rumbly German accent. “I would certainly not haffe ziz creature anywhere near my person and certainly not near children.” He made a clucking sound, shaking his head.
“But, Professor, people in Perilous Falls claim they feel protected wearing it,” Deborah Wilder said earnestly. “It has warded off gnats and frogs and kept them safe. What is the harm?”
The professor frowned, holding the amulet between his fingers. “Zeese people you mention, they must be ignorant of who Ammit—the creature on the necklace—is. In Egyptian belief, Ammit devours soulz. It is the destroyer. The bone breaker. Zis creature is not a means of safety, but of destruction. It bringz only death and judgment.”
The camera then cut to Deborah chasing Pothinus Sab down Dura Street. “Experts say that Ammit is a creature of destruction and death. Yet you claim that your Ammit charm will bring regeneration. How is that possible? How is it protecting people?”
“It is drawing positive energy from the population. You have seen it yourself, yes? It is their personal energies that protect them,” Sab said, dismissing her, moving fast.
“Then why is it necessary to wear the amulet, sir?”
Sab stopped abruptly, running a hand over his beard, his anger palpable. “Miss Wilder, have you a schedule? So do I. The schedule says that I must now tend to the many people who have made appointments seeking my help. If you have questions about our amulet, I would advise you, and all those watching, to get one for free. The Karnak Center offers them as a gift—without judgment or needless questions. Thank you.” His broad smile didn’t alter the spiteful look in his eyes.
Dr. von Neuhaus returned to the screen, laughing lightly. “If I were Mr. Sab, I would refuse to answer your questionz too. His is an object of evil. Hurl it into the trash bin. Burn it. Return it to Sab. But under no circumstances should anyone wear zis thing. The protection people seek will not be found in zis creature or in Sab’s talk of regeneration. It is a lie.”
Gathered around the TV in the community room of Peniel, some of the Brethren applauded von Neuhaus.
Brother Amalric, occupying a good two-thirds of a sofa, turned to Philip, who was fixing a watch with a tiny screwdriver. “I thought von Neuhaus was retired to Au-th-tria. How did Deborah th-cure an interview with him?” Amalric asked.
“Doctor von Neuhaus gave the abbot permission to impersonate him,” Philip said through the side of his mouth, lifting his jeweler’s magnifying glasses. “Remember how Athanasius used to get thrown out of class for impersonating von Neuhaus?” He narrowed his eyes, indicating “now you know.”
“You mean that was the abbot on TV just now?!” Amalric wriggled in amazement. “His imper-th-onation was th-pot on.”
“Yes, it was. Shhhh.” Philip dropped the magnifying glasses back onto his nose and resumed his watch repair. “Who do you think made the glasses he wore for the interview?” Philip nodded proudly, pointing a thumb at himself.
Will and his friends rushed into the community room. “Where is the Chapter House?” Will asked, out of breath.
“Over in the east building, off the courtyard,” Ugo Pagani said, rising from a leather chair. “C’mon, I’ll take you there. What’s your hurry? Trying to elect yourself abbot or sumpin’?”
Will had never been to the Chapter House before. It was solely reserved for the members of the archabbey. And though he was considered a collaborator, Will did not attend the morning chapter meetings or the
routine votes that the order held there.
From the courtyard, Will and his friends walked past spiraled columns to enter the Chapter House. Stone arches exploded like fountains from squat pillars spread throughout the room. It was a bright place with a continuous stone bench running along the walls. Bartimaeus, Tobias Shen, and Baldwin were clustered in the rear of the room, their backs to the kids.
“Ya got some visitors,” Brother Ugo announced. “I don’t think they came to meditate on the Rule.” He chuckled to himself and returned to the courtyard.
“The abbot said I should come here right—” What Will saw stopped him cold. His heart skipped a beat or two.
When Bart and Tobias parted, there stood Aunt Lucille. Aside from a bad scrape on her cheek and bandaged wrists, she looked fantastic.
Will ran over, taking her hands. “I thought you died in the jail. I can’t believe you made it out. I mean, I’m glad you made it out.”
“I’m rather glad myself, dear. For a few moments I wasn’t so sure. Hello, kids.” Lucille waved to Cami, Andrew, and Simon, who drew closer. She massaged her wrist, grimacing slightly. “Pothinus Sab and Ava Lynch tried to attack me in my cell. Sab’s definitely in league with Amon.”
“How did you escape? The jail was totally torched,” Will said.
“When the ceiling caught fire, just before it collapsed, I yanked at the chains attached to my wrists. That hailstorm might have been a plague for some, but for me it was a blessing. A piece of the ceiling fell and popped one of the chains. That allowed me to blast the other chain and blow through the cinder-block wall with my…” Her forefingers and thumbs touched, forming a triangle. “You know what I mean.” She glanced over at the kids, smiling apologetically. “It’s not necessary to get into everything, but I was just telling the Brethren here that Sab warned me that Amon would rise again.”
Will Wilder #2 Page 20
