Chapter Seven: The Ankh of Isis
Claire had come up with the perfect distraction. Right after breakfast, she asked Mr. Hemmlich about his job. Diedrich had been right—the man launched into a long, meandering lecture about ancient Egyptian life, mummification rituals and the many artifacts within the Berlin-Dahlem Museum. Megan’s eyes glazed over after the first three minutes.
“I have a paper due in world history,” Claire said. “A project, actually, and Ancient Egypt is the topic. I would be terribly grateful if you could give me some help.”
“I thought Rachel was doing the paper on Egypt,” Diedrich said.
“She is, but my paper deals specifically with mummification rituals.”
Megan admired Claire’s quick thinking. Claire’s history project was actually about the destruction of the Aztec civilization by the Spanish. But it had been decided Rachel should be the one to look through Mr. Hemmlich’s room. Megan would be missed, and Claire was so meticulous she would take too long to search through Mr. Hemmlich’s belongings. Rachel, on the other hand, was much more devious. She knew how to search and do it quickly.
“He’ll never even know I was there, Megan,” Rachel said when Megan voiced concern over Rachel’s less-than-orderly way of doing things. “I promise.”
Megan was still a bit hesitant, but they didn’t have anything better. She implemented the second part of the plan. “There are some books in the library here,” she suggested in her most innocent voice. “Perhaps you can look through them and tell Claire which ones are the best to use?”
That had been her idea. It served two purposes—to get him to the other end of the house, and to see if he did or said anything peculiar about any of the books.
Mr. Hemmlich’s eyes narrowed, just a bit, but enough for Megan to wonder. Guilty conscience? Or suspicion that I’m on to him?
He gave Claire an indulgent smile. “How could I refuse? Never let it be said that I don’t encourage the scholarly endeavors of the young.”
Rachel stood and launched into her prepared excuse. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go with you. I need to use Megan’s computer to do some Internet research. Mine crashed this morning, and the service tech won’t be able to look at it until tomorrow. Please excuse me.”
The two adults and Diedrich nodded politely and stood as Rachel left the room. Megan said a silent prayer, but for what she didn’t know. She wasn’t sure now whether or not she wanted to know what Mr. Hemmlich was up to, if he was up to anything at all. She really wanted her life back, and to worry about something normal, like what to do about Diedrich.
She hoped Rachel wouldn’t get caught.
Her father and Mr. Hemmlich led the group toward the library. Diedrich walked behind and between them and listened to their conversation.
“How much time do you think Rachel will need?” Claire whispered into Megan’s ear.
Megan shrugged. Diedrich turned his head and smiled at her. She gave him a little wave and a smile in return. “I hope not long,” she muttered. “I don’t know how much longer I can listen to this man’s voice.”
“He’s one of the top in his field, you know.”
“Yes, but he’s also very boring.”
Megan’s father and their two guests had gotten ahead. They walked quickly to catch up, right next to Diedrich.
At the library door Megan’s father left them, saying he needed to retreat to his study and make some calls. Megan wondered if her father thought Mr. Hemmlich to be as boring as she did. Inside, they sat and listened to Mr. Hemmlich ramble on some more. After fifteen minutes, Megan’s eyes began to cross. She cleared her thoughts and tried to pay attention. She needed to pay attention if she hoped to figure out why Mr. Hemmlich had been in the library last night.
“The Egyptians were obsessed with the afterlife,” he said. Claire, Diedrich and Megan sat at one of the reading tables. Diedrich’s father stood and paced in front of them, one hand behind his back, the other he held in front of him and used to accent his speech. It looked like a very comfortable and well-used posture.
“Most of their lives were spent preparing their souls for their death. It is why every pharaoh’s tomb contains things like boats, chariots, gold and food, and is the reason for their complex mummification rituals.” Megan tried not to appear to pay too much attention as he pulled a book from the shelf. He laid it on the table in front of Claire.
“This is an excellent reference for the layperson. All you need to know about the basics of Egyptian life you’ll find inside.” He flipped to the table of contents. “Read the folktale about Se-Osiris’s visit to the land of the dead. It’s very revealing.”
Claire took the book and looked up at Mr. Hemmlich. “Are there any other books here that I should look at?”
Subtle, but effective. At least it doesn’t look suspicious if she asks. She rocks.
He gave the shelf a perfunctory glance. “Most of Sir Gregory’s collection contains books that would be too detailed for a school project. You wouldn’t be able to comprehend much of what they say.”
Claire pulled her mouth into a tight little bow and bristled—she wasn’t used to being called anything but brilliant, even by adults. Talking down was something you did not do to Claire McIlhenny.
“Thank you, Herr Hemmlich, for all your help,” she said in a forced voice.
Megan looked at her watch. Two hours had passed since Rachel left the dining room table. She hoped it was long enough, because Diedrich’s father started toward the door.
He rubbed his right temple. “If you’ll excuse me. I have developed a mild headache, and I wish to lie down for a while.”
He reached for the knob, but before his fingers touched it, the door flew open and Rachel bounded in.
She jumped. “Oh, sorry. You surprised me. I’d hoped you were still here.”
Megan lifted her eyebrows. “You did?”
Rachel nodded. “Yes. I’ve finished what I needed to do, and I was hoping you were up for a walk. I could use some fresh air.” She gave a tiny wink that Megan hoped no one else saw.
“Uh, oh, all right, Rache.” Megan tried to think of some excuse to go outside. “We can go out to the stables. It’s time for Thunder’s grooming.”
Mr. Hemmlich left, and the four children were alone in the library. Claire glanced at Diedrich, then at Megan. Megan got the message.
“Diedrich, would you go to the kitchen?” she said in her sweetest voice. “Ask Maggie for a few carrot sticks for the horses. They’d love a treat. And see if you can charm a few chocolate chip cookies out of her too? We’ll meet you outside.”
He smiled. “Of course.”
Once he disappeared, the girls bolted down the hall. Megan peeked into the study. It was empty—her father must have finished his calls. They ran across the room and out the French doors that opened onto the courtyard.
“Come on.” Rachel grabbed Megan’s hand and ran down the garden path, leaving Claire to catch up.
Rachel kept going, through the flower beds, across the lawn and into the copse of trees beyond the horse paddock. Finally she let go of Megan’s hand, and Megan stumbled and nearly fell.
Rachel covered her mouth with both hands. “Oops, sorry.”
“I thought we were going to the stables,” Claire said between gulps of air. High on her cheeks, bright red blotches bloomed. She wasn’t as athletic as her hockey-player friends.
“We will,” Rachel said. “After we talk. If we go right to the stables, Diedrich could walk in on us. I don’t want him to hear.”
“What did you find?” Megan held out hope that the answer was nothing. Based on Rachel’s actions, she didn’t think that was the case.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I doubted you,” Rachel said. She looked around to make sure no one could overhear. “It’s looking less and less like it was idle curiosity that brought Josef Hemmlich to The Parthenon.” She pulled some papers from beneath her shirt.
“What are those?” Claire sa
id. “You didn’t take them from his room, did you? He’ll notice they’re gone.”
“Relax, will you? I had plenty of time to run down to your room, Megan, and make copies on your scanner. I put the originals back where I found them.”
Megan took the papers from Rachel and skimmed them. They were filled with a choppy, heavy-handed writing. Much of it was in German, interspersed with lines of hieroglyphics.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Megan said. “I can’t read it.”
“Look here,” Rachel took the pages back from Megan, thumbed through them, and pulled one out. She handed it to Megan and pointed at something halfway down. It was a drawing of the same strange looped cross she had seen in the book about Queen Nefertari.
Claire looked over Megan’s shoulder. “It’s an ankh,” she said with a shrug. “The Egyptian symbol for life. Pretty common hieroglyph.”
“Look at what he wrote under it.” Rachel pointed to the passage; this part was in English.
“Sir Gregory’s name, and something about The Everlasting One,” Claire said. She looked at Megan. “Mean anything?”
“That’s the lost tomb Hemmlich is going to Egypt to look for,” Megan said. She read farther down the page. Her eyes grew wide. She grabbed Rachel’s arm and squeezed it. “Here’s something about the Ankh of Isis being in that whatever-his-name’s tomb.” She looked at the next page, and the next. “All this is about the Ankh of Isis, from what I can make of it. Looks like that’s what he’s really looking for.”
Rachel shuffled through the other pages. “Here it is again.” She handed a page to Claire.
She took the copy from Rachel, and pursed her lips as she read it. “I’ve never heard of anything called the Ankh of Isis. I know what an ankh is, like I said before, and Isis is an Egyptian goddess.” She gave the page back to Rachel. “I wonder what it is, and why he’s looking for it.”
Megan leaned against a tree. She tipped her head back and shut her eyes against the sun that filtered through the branches. “The Ankh of Isis again. I know I’ve heard of it before. I mean, before I saw it in that book this morning.” She shook her head. “I wish I could remember where.”
“Think,” Rachel said. “Think very hard. Where would you have heard of it? On television? On the Internet? In a book?”
Megan threw up her hands. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe Sir Gregory’s journal?” Claire suggested. “After all, we did read quite a bit of it before Bailey took it.”
Megan let her head drop. “That’s a good possibility. We’ll have to find out.”
“You’d better do it later,” Rachel said. “Right now we should get to the stables before Diedrich comes looking for us.”
Megan ran into her room and shut the door. Rachel and Claire sat on the bed.
“Did you get it?” Rachel asked. Megan pulled a small, leather-bound book from under her arm and held it out. Rachel smiled.
“How did you convince Bailey to give it to you?” Claire said.
Megan flopped onto the bed next to her friends. “I just told him what we were looking for. He remembered an item by that name, but wasn’t certain Sir Gregory ever found it.”
“And he gave you the journal, just like that?” Rachel said.
Megan tilted her head. “Of course—I am the Librarian, remember? Anything having to do with it, including and especially the artifacts, is my responsibility.” She set the journal on the bedspread and opened it. “I had to swear to give this back to him when we’re finished though. He’s got some secret, safe hiding place for it. Says it’s for my own good.” She scanned pages as she flipped through them.
“He didn’t ask why you wanted to know about the ankh?” Rachel said.
Megan scrunched up her nose. “I, uh, didn’t exactly tell him. I made up some story that Mr. Hemmlich mentioned it during his lecture and I wanted to know if it was a magical artifact or not.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “You did, did you?”
Megan gave Rachel a guilty look. “It wasn’t exactly a lie.”
“No, I suppose not,” Rachel said. “You know for certain Sir Gregory actually visited Egypt? If he didn’t, then this whole search is moot.”
“I know he visited, and more than once,” Megan said. “The very first journal entry talks about his taking an expedition there.” She stopped turning pages. “Here’s where he found the door beneath the Parthenon.” She pointed to a paragraph, halfway down the page. The passage described a door of rock, inscribed in Greek. Behind it, he had discovered the Crown of Zeus. The girls had seen a copy of that very door, recreated by Sir Gregory, in his enchanted book. It had been guarded by a Sphinx.
She turned the page and skimmed the next entry. “Here it is. The search is on for the Ankh of Isis,” she read aloud. “Many say that it is a myth, a mere fiction, but I have strong reason to believe that it is real. Writings on the wall of Seti’s tomb mention it, as do the scrolls I discovered in the temple at Abu Simbel. I am almost positive that I know where it is buried. I will search until I find it. Something that precious and powerful must be kept safe.”
“That’s all?” Rachel squeaked, while Megan skimmed the next few pages. “Nothing about what it actually does, or if he ever found it?”
Megan shook her head. “Nothing.”
Claire spun the book around and silently reread the entry. “I can’t believe he didn’t at least write down if he found the bloody thing or not. What a way to leave us hanging. It’s just not right.”
Rachel took the book from Claire and thumbed through it. “Not even a map to help us,” she muttered. She tossed the book to Megan and flung herself back onto the bed. “So now what do we do? It’s obvious Hemmlich thinks Sir Gregory either found or knows where the ankh is.”
“Thankfully he doesn’t know about the library.” Megan chewed the inside of her cheek. “I wonder…” she said, staring into space.
“Yes?” Rachel said. “You wonder what?”
“Sir Gregory knew what the ankh was.” She tapped her thumbnail on her teeth. “I guess we’ll have to go and find out if he actually found it.”
“Then let’s go,” Rachel said. She got off the bed and took a step toward the door.
“We can’t go right now, someone will see us.” A secretive smile crept over Megan’s face. “Can you two stay over tonight?”
Chapter Eight: The Secret Revealed
The grandfather clock had just finished its two a.m. chime. Megan, Rachel and Claire stood huddled on the landing in front of the statue of Athena. Megan reached up and flipped the owl over. In the dark and quiet, the click of the secret door’s mechanism sounded much louder than it had the other day. Megan cast a furtive glance up to the second floor.
“What’s the matter?” Rachel whispered.
“Just making sure no one heard that, or followed us.”
The shadows lay thick around them—the night outside was cloudy, no moonlight shone in the windows to chase them away. Megan clicked on the flashlight and shone it into the dark corners. They were alone. She led her friends down the winding staircase, through the temple and to the Library door. She unlocked it and stepped inside.
Before the lights came up fully, Megan turned off the flashlight, dashed down the center aisle and turned left. Rachel and Claire ran to catch up.
“Where are we going?” Claire asked.
Megan ran down the long center aisle.
“Is she going where I think she’s going?” Claire asked Rachel as they followed Megan. “Yes, I am,” Megan called over her shoulder. At the back of the room she turned left again and walked along the stone wall. Not far ahead was a small open arch. Carved into the stone above was the simple title Special Collection.
There was no light—Bailey told Megan the books were better preserved in the dark. Hanging on a hook next to the door was an oil lantern and matches. Megan lit it and stepped inside a long, narrow room.
A bookshelf ran along the left-hand side from th
e door all the way to the back wall. Like the main library, it was filled with books. But unlike the main library, every book in there was the same size and shape. Their only distinguishing characteristics were their covers—each was of a different color cloth. A rainbow on wooden shelving.
These were Sir Gregory Archibald’s enchanted books. Magical volumes that contained stories he had written himself to hide mystical and powerful mythological artifacts.
Megan shone the light across the books and looked at each title, stamped in gold along the spine. Not far along the top shelf, she stopped, reached up and pulled down a book with a red gold cover. She blew across the top, sending a fine shower of dust into Rachel’s face.
“Ugh, thanks a lot,” Rachel said, and sneezed. “Excuse me, would you, I need some air.” The room was too narrow for her to get by Claire, so both girls left the room.
Megan stood in the doorway, her gaze on the book’s cover. “Here it is. The Ankh of Isis.” She wiped the remainder of the dust from the cover and smiled. “So, girls, now that we know what happened to it, what do we do about it?” There was no answer.
Megan looked up. “Rachel? Claire?”
Both girls stood to Megan’s right, and both were white as a sheet. Megan gave them a quizzical look. “Uh, hello? Earth to Claire and Rachel. What should we do with this?”
“I will be happy to take it,” said a deep, guttural voice to Megan’s left. She turned her head, slowly. Josef Hemmlich stood there, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.
“How did you—” Megan said. Her hands were clammy, her heart raced.
Mr. Hemmlich shrugged. “I followed you, of course. Actually, I waited for you in the lounge. I knew you would check the stairs. You didn’t bother to shine the light behind you, or you might have seen me. Children are so predictable.”
Crap, what have I done? Megan was miserable. She failed at the fundamental job of Librarian—someone else had discovered it. And it was her fault.
“But how did you know we would even be out tonight?” Rachel said. “How did you know to wait?”
“You are not as clever a thief as you might think,” Mr. Hemmlich said with a self-important shake of his head. “I knew you had been in my room immediately after I returned this morning. I realized you had looked through my notes.”
The Ankh of Isis: The Library of Athena, Book 2 Page 7
