Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus

by R. L. LaFevers

  "What will happen afterward?"

  "The Bald One will not be happy that you are giving away a treasure he wants so badly. He will make a move to block this trade off, I think. We will pit two opposing forces on one another and use the ensuing chaos"—he permitted himself a small smile at the joke—"to step forward and retrieve the tablet from under their noses. The Black Sun will be no match for the Serpents, and the chase will be on. However, your place in the exchange will be over. You will have handed it over to Sopcoate as he demanded and fulfilled your part of the bargain."

  "But how will both of you get it from the Serpents of Chaos? There will be many of them, and there are only two of you."

  He gave his formal little bow. "I am a magician, Little Miss. I will have many tricks up my sleeve. Although it would not hurt if you brought the Orb of Ra with you."

  We were both silent for a long moment as we imagined how this plan might play out. Finally, I sighed. "I suppose it's our best shot."

  "So I believe, Little Miss. Once Kimosiri and I have gone, do not say anything to anyone about the Eyes of Horus. It is a most secret organization, and I have risked my life by bringing you into my confidence."

  "Then why do it?"

  "Because I quickly learned that by allowing you only half-truths, you were becoming too dangerous. And because the mark of Isis is upon you."

  "Oh, please, let's not start that again."

  Awi Bubu grabbed my shoulders with his wiry hands. He gave me a gentle shake. "Little Miss must accept this. You were born in the Temple of Isis, at the foot of the great goddess, on a most auspicious day. She has accepted you as her gift, and you must be respectful of that. Even now, her servants tend to you—"

  "What servants?" I scoffed. Maybe if I sounded scornful, the whole thing wouldn't be so terrifying.

  "Your cat. The jackal. By whose power do you think they live? Whom do you think they serve?"

  "Y-you're talking nonsense. Please stop."

  "No, Little Miss. I am not talking nonsense. This is one of the reasons I agreed to help your parents regain their firmin in the Valley of the Kings. Little Miss must go with them. You must return to the land of your birth."

  "I'd be only too happy to return to Egypt, but why is it so important to you?"

  "Because I feel certain that Little Miss has a significant role to play. The goddess has marked you for a reason, and that reason will not be found here in London. And there is one more thing." He paused for a moment, the air in the room growing even more solemn. "If something goes wrong tomorrow and I do not emerge triumphant, Little Miss must promise to return the tablet to Egypt on my behalf."

  "Don't be silly, nothing is going to happen to you!" My voice sounded the tiniest bit shrill. I cleared my throat and tried again. "You yourself said you're a magician, you can make this work."

  "But if I don't," he repeated doggedly, "I want Little Miss to promise. Your parents' request for permission to dig will be approved. I have already arranged this. Now I just need your promise."

  When I hesitated, he took a step toward me. "Kimosiri cannot do it. A hulking foreigner who cannot speak? He would be questioned at every turn. No, it is you that must go. The information in the tablet cannot fall into the wrong hands. The artifacts it leads to, they would cause untold destruction, even open the boundaries between life and death. You must promise me that you'll return it to Egypt if I cannot." His black eyes bored into me until finally I had to say, "Yes! Yes, I promise already!"

  His face relaxed and he bowed. "I am most grateful. And now you must go. I have much to prepare for tomorrow's rendezvous."

  "This is goodbye, isn't it? There won't be time tomorrow, not if you're trying to snatch the tablet from Chaos."

  "Yes, it is goodbye. At least until you return to my homeland. Then I will find you and we will meet again." He nodded his head at Kimosiri, who came over to escort me to the door. My mind was so full of questions and emotions that I hardly knew where to begin. I turned to look back at Awi Bubu, whose slight figure was limned by the faint light in the room, and I was suddenly struck by how very much I would miss him. Even though he and I had appeared to be at odds for the last weeks, I somehow trusted him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Grand Opening

  IT WAS ALL HANDS ON DECK beginning early Friday morning. Father had us up and out of the house at the crack of dawn with hardly a moment spared for bolting down some toast.

  It was a long, painful day, which I spent feeling as if I were tiptoeing across hot coals. Not only were all the adults frantic with last-minute details, but I was utterly consumed by my upcoming appointment with Sopcoate.

  Father was barking, Mum was soothing, Weems was prancing, and Fagenbush skulked silently. Stilton was a twitching, flinching, shuddering wreck. I tried to get him alone on three different occasions that morning, but he evaded me each time.

  Henry was heartily sick of all of us and had retired to the family room with yet another book. Even Isis grew impatient with me when I tried to pet her and ended up squeezing just a bit too tightly. She gave a yowl of protest and left.

  I finally decided to make myself useful by going to the reading room and researching the curse on the Sekhmet statue. I also wanted to see if I could find a mention of a temple dedicated to Thutmose III. I had no luck with either of those but did manage to stay out of everyone's way until it was time to get dressed for the reception.

  At ten minutes to four, Father tracked me and Henry down in the family withdrawing room; we had both changed into our Sunday best. Father looked quite dashing himself in his frock coat. "Both of you stay out from underfoot now," he reminded us. "And for heaven's sake, don't create a scene." He gave me a pointed look before heading back to the foyer.

  At four o'clock on the dot, the small string quartet struck up the first note, a long vibrant sound that echoed throughout the entire museum. The show had begun.

  Without a word between us, Henry and I took up positions on the second-floor balcony overlooking the foyer where we could watch the entire goings-on.

  Vicary Weems stood at the front door (the idiot man was even wearing his ridiculous spats!) and checked people's invitations before he allowed them inside. Honestly! He was as bad as that librarian at the British Museum.

  His face had been scrubbed even shinier than normal, and his hair was pasted so smooth and flat it looked as if someone had taken shoe polish to his head. His ears, however, still stuck out rather jauntily, as if they were determined to listen in on every conversation that took place that evening.

  It was hard to be a dandy with ears like that.

  The board members were among the first to arrive, all looking quite posh in their frock coats and striped trousers. Grandmother arrived shortly thereafter and immediately asked for me.

  Henry smirked, and I gently elbowed him in the ribs before getting to my feet. I brushed off my knees and motioned frantically for Henry to come with me as I made my way to our waiting grandmother.

  I dodged a server balancing a tray of champagne flutes and nearly trod on Grandmother's silk slipper. I braced myself for a scolding, but she simply said, "There you are. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

  "Henry and I are doing our best to stay out of the way, Grandmother," I explained. "I think I've had enough of parties for quite a while, thank you."

  She looked at me sharply to see if I was being fresh. When she was satisfied I wasn't, she gave a brief nod. "Excellent. It's nice to see you beginning to develop some sense, even if your parents aren't."

  It took enormous effort to bite back a retort, but I managed it, then quickly retreated to our hidey-hole before I could change my mind. Henry joined me a moment later, only he'd had the good sense to pilfer a number of canapés. He further surprised me by offering to share them.

  "Thank you," I said. Even though there was no room in my stomach for food—it was too full of nervous butterflies—I took two, not wanting him to think I was ungrateful. Besides, it
could be a long night and it wouldn't hurt to have a bit of sustenance. Even prisoners awaiting their death sentences received a last meal. Surely I was entitled. Although I doubted very much that two canapés counted as a full meal.

  I nearly choked on the second canapé, however, when I saw Wigmere's regal figure arrive. He was the head of the Antiquarian Society, so it made sense that he would be here; nonetheless, the sight of him was like a stab to my heart. I was very glad I was hidden from his view, since I was not sure I could bear seeing him face to face. I suddenly decided it would be wise to leave early.

  But I had one last thing to do. I motioned Henry closer.

  He widened his eyes a bit. "Now what?"

  Then I told him of my plans. All of them. I did it for a number of reasons: I wanted desperately to repair the trust between us; I missed that and wanted it back. Also, in spite of my best efforts, Henry had now experienced the very worst sort of Egyptian magic, and there was no point in trying to keep it a secret from him anymore. And as Awi Bubu had said, half knowledge could be dangerous. And last: "I think it would be better if you didn't come, Henry. I'd like someone to stay behind, a person who can tell others what has happened if"—I swallowed—"if something goes awry."

  Henry looked relieved, then embarrassed. He glanced down at his highly polished boots, which he was scuffing against the floor. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he mumbled.

  "Oh, Henry! I so wish you'd never had a reason to believe me. It was my hope to keep you, along with the others, safe from all this."

  "I know, which makes me feel even more wretched that I made fun of you. You're not playing a game, are you? It's all real, isn't it?" He looked at me, his eyes still hopeful that I was just playing.

  "Yes, Henry. It's all real."

  He was quiet for a long moment, then asked, "Do you have any more of those amulet things?"

  "Of course." I took the gold wedjat eye that Wigmere had given me—my most powerful amulet—and slipped it around Henry's neck.

  He looked down at it before tucking it into his shirt, out of sight. "Thanks," he said, staring at the balcony in front of him as if it were the most fascinating thing on earth. "I don't think I'm like you, Theo. I'm not brave about things I can't see."

  My chest ached a bit, and my eyes grew damp. "You're brave in other ways, Henry. Do you mind very much staying behind tonight? To bring in a cavalry charge if I'm not back in a few hours?"

  Again, a relieved look passed across his face. "I'd be glad to," he said, with an extra bit of emphasis on glad.

  "Excellent. I'll be meeting Awi Bubu at Cleopatra's Needle at five. If I'm not back by six-thirty, I guess you'll have to go ahead and tell Mother and Father I've gone missing."

  "But you'll be back long before then, won't you, Theo?" His bright blue eyes (so unlike mine) pleaded for reassurance.

  "I plan to be, Henry." I reached out and ruffled his hair, just like Father had a hundred times before, and was surprised at how silky it was. "See you in a bit, then," I said, and slipped down the hallway to my closet.

  I retrieved the tablet and the orb from their hiding place, put them in my satchel, and made my way to the west entrance.

  The grand opening had been planned for late afternoon in order to take advantage of the daylight to show the exhibit at its best. Unfortunately, there wasn't much daylight. The fog had come in thick and dirty and foul—even so, I felt utterly exposed leaving the museum, as if even the wind had eyes that were watching me.

  Of course, according to Awi Bubu, the wind did have ears and reported to others, so it wasn't as if I were being all that fanciful. I gripped the satchel even tighter and clutched the Blood of Isis amulet so firmly that one of the edges poked clear through my glove.

  It was taking my life in my hands, trying to cross New Oxford Street at this hour and in this weather. No one could see a thing, and half the drivers had gotten out of their carriages and were leading their horses along so as not to risk driving them straight into another carriage or, worse, an omnibus or motorcar. Fog does strange things to sound, so that wasn't a reliable guide either.

  Once across Oxford Street, I kept my steps brisk and purposeful. The fog was even thicker over there, which did quite a lot to hide the dilapidated buildings and their distressed occupants, but it was quite spooky knowing they were there, just hidden in the fog. I think I'd rather have been able to see them.

  When I turned down Garrick Street, I heard a sound that chilled my blood: footsteps echoing behind me. Would Sopcoate make his move for the tablet before I reached the meeting place? I clutched the satchel handle even more firmly, pausing only long enough to tell if the footsteps would pause as well. If they did, it was a clear sign I was being followed.

  I waited, and the muffled footsteps slowed to a standstill. The sharp tang of fear tingled on the back of my tongue. I resumed walking at an even faster clip. I had to reach the meeting place before Chaos caught up to me.

  Or was it Trawley and his scorpions? Stilton had been very busy at the reception, and I had told him nothing of my plans. I tried to comfort myself by remembering that Awi Bubu was counting on the scorpions following me. That was part of our plan.

  I just wished the plan weren't so nerve-racking. I longed to break into a run and hurry to the Embankment, but it was so foggy, I was afraid I'd lose my way.

  My nerves were strung tighter than a harp. I did my best to ignore the steps behind me and tried to peer through the pea soup to locate the next street. Coming up from behind me, a shape loomed out of the fog on my left. I started to run, but it grabbed my arm.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Stilton Stands Alone

  "'ANG ON, MISS! Don't jump out of yer skin now."

  All that adrenaline turned to warm runny treacle and left me weak in the knees. "Will!"

  He rocked back on his heels, peering at me with a worried look on his face. "You thought I was one o' them Chaos blokes, didn't you?"

  "Or one of the scorpions. Either way, I'm glad it's you." The truth was, I could have happily kissed his cold red cheek.

  "Well, that's why I'm 'ere, miss. To wotch yer back."

  My heart soared at his words, at the sheer relief at not being alone in all this. And then I remembered what was at stake for him. "Oh, Will, you can't! It's too dangerous—"

  He puffed a bit. "'Ow's that? It's too dangerous for me but not for you? Not ruddy likely. Besides, this is me neighborhood. I know it inside and out."

  "That's not the kind of danger I'm talking about. Wigmere will be furious with us, and I'm afraid it will completely ruin any chance you might have for a future in the Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers."

  Will set his mouth in a stubborn line. "I'll have to take me chances, miss. It's wot people do, we watch each other's back. I'm not lettin' you go in there alone."

  At his firm declaration of support, my eyes began to sting. I blinked rapidly. "But Wigmere won't take kindly to your going rogue like this."

  Will was quiet for a long moment. A wide range of emotions played across his face: frustration, disgust, resignation, and resolve. "Doesn't make no difference, miss. I got to do wot's right. Letting you go in there alone ain't right."

  Unable to help myself, I threw my arms around him, nearly beaning him with the heavy satchel. "Oh, Will."

  "Geroffme!" he said, sounding a bit panicked as he pushed me away. Once I was safely at arm's length, he straightened his jacket and cleared his throat. "Now, we can't stand here jawing all night. Let's move out."

  As we headed down the street, I heard someone else behind us. I started to mention it to Will, but he said, "Don't worry 'bout 'im, miss. It's just Ratsy. We work better in pairs."

  "Oh," I said, understanding. "He watches your back like you're watching mine."

  "Exactly, miss." Will beamed as if I were an exceptionally bright pupil.

  On the way to the Embankment, I explained to him the plan Awi Bubu and I had worked out. Will decided that he and Ratsy would get in posit
ion and hide until they thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, and then they'd make their move.

  The rest of the journey passed in solemn silence, our footsteps muffled by the fog. I could barely make out Will next to me, and I couldn't hear his brother at all, which seemed unusual in and of itself.

  The hardest part was when we reached Wellington Street and had to march past Somerset House with its hundreds of windows. I couldn't help but think of Wigmere, glad that he was attending the exhibition opening and not sitting in his office. That would have made it worse somehow, having to actually sneak by him.

  Then we were on the Embankment, clinging to the garden side of the walk. The fog reeked of the Thames, and the well-spaced lampposts cast a peculiar greeny-yellow light down on the concrete. It was cold and damp enough that there was little other traffic. It was impossible to see more than a few yards ahead, and I was half afraid we'd walk right by Cleopatra's Needle. Not to mention that Sopcoate and his band of Chaos agents could step out of the fog and ambush us at a second's notice. I readjusted my grip on the satchel.

  At last the monument came into view. Actually, it wasn't the needle itself I saw first but the hindquarters of one of the sphinx guardians. I stopped walking and put my hand on Will's arm. "We're here." I whispered just in case Sopcoate had decided to come early.

  Will nodded. "You go on, miss. Whistle if the coast is clear, then we'll come get in place."

  "Whistle?" I asked. "Don't you think that's a bit obvious?"

  Will rolled his eyes. "What signal would you rather use?"

  "How about if I just clear my throat?"

  Will looked at me askance.

  "Loudly," I added.

  "Oy, all right, now get moving before them others get 'ere!"

  Feeling horribly exposed, I crossed the Embankment, darting out from the shelter of the trees in the park to the concrete steps that led up to Cleopatra's Needle. There was no sign of anyone else. I climbed the short flight of stairs to