The three made their way back into the warmth of the library. Adeline spoke first. “So that’s the end of Arsinoe?” Even as she said it, she didn’t believe it.
Professor Mayer sat and stared into the flames for a moment. “I’m not sure, Adeline. I can only hope so.”
“But surely now she really is dead. After those beetles…” Adeline shuddered. “We saw her loaded onto the cart.”
“Yes, we did, didn’t we?”
“Was it all about revenge?” Magda asked. “Arsinoe avenging herself against Cleopatra?”
Both women looked at the professor. Adeline was surprised at the intense way he was staring at Magda. There didn’t seem any reason for it. Unless she was imagining it. She dismissed her fears. Too much had transpired these past weeks. She would be screaming at her own shadow next. With a shudder she remembered the latest incident. Would to heaven whatever was still down in that basement left them alone, for at least as long as they needed to get out of that house.
Professor Mayer spoke. “I think you have summed it up fairly accurately, Magda. Arsinoe wanted to see her sister’s spirit damned for all time to be tied to the dried up husk that is Emeryk Quintillus. Butters wanted what his master sought. The curse undone, Quintillus restored to life and Cleopatra’s spirit reborn in you, Adeline. Both needed the same ingredients to ensure their plans were fulfilled. As long as the statue stayed with Cleopatra in her tomb, Arsinoe was powerless, but Quintillus’s action in removing it freed her sister to attach her spirit to a receptive host. Once here, she found precisely that.”
“Frau Lederer,” Adeline said.
“Precisely. Which is, of course, why it took Butters so long to realize what was happening. He saw the cook as a devout and loyal servant, and someone to whom he had become increasingly attracted. For her part, Arsinoe lay low for a long while, biding her time. She played her part well. Most convincingly. It must have been a cruel shock for the butler when he realized what had happened to his beloved Josefa. When he heard her chant the death spell, he smashed the portrait, not just to summon Magda but also he thought that, without it, no more harm could be done. Even though it meant his master would not have what he so desperately desired.”
“That’s why Butters told me he was trying to save my life.”
“I believe so, yes. The scroll has been most helpful in illuminating the many facets of the power of that little statue. Without it, I don’t think I could have drawn so many conclusions. Although…” The professor’s forehead creased.
“What is it?” Adeline asked. “Is there more?”
“I’m not sure. I can’t help feeling I’ve missed something.” He shook his head.
Adeline sighed. “At least I can telephone Miss Sinclair and get back to England. I can’t see that there will be any more work for me here. After all, as you said, Professor, my assignment was only a ruse to get me here.”
“I am quite sure you’re right,” he said. “But we cannot return to England quite yet. We have an important task to perform.”
Adeline’s rising spirits once more sank. “What task, Professor?”
“We must return the statue to Cleopatra. We must travel to Taposiris Magna without delay.”
Chapter 11
Much to her relief, when Adeline telephoned the agency to explain that both the butler and the cook had died, Miss Sinclair expressed sympathy and promised to negotiate with the lawyers. Meanwhile, of course Adeline should have a short break, to recover from her ordeal. As she replaced the receiver, Adeline smiled. Whatever would the down-to-earth woman have made of everything she hadn’t told her?
Her bags packed, Adeline settled down in bed for her last night in Vienna. The house had been quiet since Butters and Frau Lederer died, but for Adeline daylight couldn’t come soon enough. At a little after eight, as Adeline and the professor were eating breakfast in the library, the bell suddenly began ringing repeatedly while someone hammered on the door.
Adeline jumped up, setting the cutlery rattling.
The door burst open and a white-faced Magda dashed in, accompanied by her equally white-faced brothers.
“She is gone!”
The professor struggled to his feet and reached for his stick.
“What do you mean?” Adeline asked. “Who’s gone?”
“Frau Lederer. My brothers decided to take her far from here. They rode for nearly a day, never once leaving their cart unattended. Then, when it grew dark again, they went to fetch her body, but she wasn’t there. Only the rolled-up carpet remained.”
The professor spoke. “Could she have fallen out? When the cart hit a pothole or some other obstacle.”
“No, the cart has four sides, all of which are too high for anything to roll out.”
Adeline sat down heavily. All her fears flowed back. “Then where is she?”
The professor laid a comforting hand on her arm. “I don’t know, my dear, but I suggest we leave. Without delay.”
“Yes. Magda, what will you do?”
The maid shook her head. “The only thing I can do is return to Hungary with my brothers. There is nothing for me here anymore. I cannot remain in this house and I cannot stay in Vienna without a job.”
“I think that’s a wise decision. Miss Sinclair is contacting the lawyers in London so, if you could secure everything here. I’m sure your brothers will stay with you until you are ready to leave.”
“Yes, madam.”
A chill wafted through the room and the ghostly words washed back into Adeline’s mind.
“You can do nothing to me. Nothing. She is already mine.”
Quintillus. It must have been him, and he was still down there, somewhere—or what remained of him—wandering through the bowels of the basement. Now the body of Frau Lederer had disappeared, Adeline couldn’t help wondering if he had company. Or maybe she would prove to be his nemesis.
As for the portrait… Adeline shivered. Last time she had seen it, those eyes had stared straight through her. Had that picture repaired itself fully? Was it back on the wall? And, most disturbing of all, did Quintillus still intend to recreate his beloved queen?
The professor patted her hand. “Come, my dear. It’s time to go. Let’s get that statue back where it belongs and end this once and for all. Then the dead can once more rest in peace and we, who are living, can get on with the rest of our lives.”
“Do you truly believe it will all be put right when the statue is returned to Egypt?”
“I have to believe the scroll.”
“And it told you this is what will happen.”
Did she imagine it, or did the professor hesitate for a second before replying?
“Yes, my dear. It did.”
* * * *
Adeline hated leaving Magda looking so apprehensive. Her future was so uncertain and, with increasing unrest in her country, her prospects were nowhere near as secure as Adeline’s.
“Come, my dear, the train won’t wait for us.” The professor urged Adeline toward the waiting carriage and she and the maid embraced one last time.
Magda and her brothers waved them off until they were out of sight.
In the darkness, at the side of the house, a shadow moved.
* * * *
Adeline leaned back in the carriage as it took them to the train, which would take them to the port of Trieste and, from there, by ship to Alexandria.
“Where is the statue now, Professor?”
Professor Mayer was frowning. He seemed lost in thought. Her question roused him. “I have it in my pocket. I thought it best not to let it out of sight, or at least to retain about my person at all times.”
Adeline could imagine little worse than having that thing so close to her. At this moment, though, the professor’s expression bothered her.
“What is it, Professor?
He
sighed. “Oh, probably nothing, my dear. I shall be relieved when we have performed our task and can put this all behind us.”
“I don’t see how we can return it to the queen, though. We don’t know where her tomb lies and, even if we did, it is covered by tons of rubble. Dr. Quintillus’s memoirs said so.”
“I think we must trust in the powers of the ancients. I believe when we get there, we will be guided. The power that exists there is so great, it will not let us fail.”
“But what if the power that does not want this to happen is also there. What if Arsinoe manages to somehow manifest herself?”
“Then we shall have to take appropriate measures to prevent her from interfering with our purpose.”
“Something about this is still worrying you, Professor. Won’t you tell me what it is?”
He gazed at her steadily. He seemed to be weighing up what he should say and what he should keep to himself. He made his decision.
“Very well, I thought we would encounter much greater resistance. I felt sure Quintillus would try and stop us. Merely shouting after us didn’t seem an adequate response to what he would see as the theft of the statue.”
“Unless he no longer needed it. Maybe it had served its purpose.”
“Perhaps. Yes, you may indeed be right.”
“That house is still a dangerous place to be—and will continue to be so, even if we are successful in returning the statue to Cleopatra’s tomb. As far as I can tell, all that will do is stop her spirit from wandering aimlessly, and reunite her with her body. Quintillus will remain an evil presence within the walls of that house.”
The professor sighed. “Yes. Sadly that is true. Although, thankfully you will not be there and, without a direct descendant of Cleopatra, or the statue, he will be unable to enact his wish.”
“The portrait is still there. I told you, it was in full face when I last saw it, and repairing itself somehow. It still holds considerable power.”
“Yes, I will confess, that painting bothers me more and more. Clearly it did not exist when the scroll was written, but the writer does emphasize the power of the dust.” The professor stared out of the carriage window as they sped past the rain-soaked countryside. “So now we leave Vienna. Judging by the unrest and disquieting rumors circulating this city, I am guessing many more will be leaving very soon—albeit for very different reasons than ours.”
“Rumors?”
“You have been too wrapped up in events closer to home, but the threat of war moves ever closer. The Serbians are becoming bolder in their demands for independence. Given the alliances between the various European nations, I cannot help but agree with those who believe the largest war we have ever known in our lifetimes—possibly in the history of the world as we know it—is about to be unleashed and I am very much afraid that, if the revolutionaries in this country and Russia have their way, there may be far fewer monarchs at the end of it.”
“Surely not our own King!” Unthinkable.
The professor leaned over and patted her hand. “It is to be hoped that the British throne is secure enough, at least for now, but Russia is quite another matter, as indeed is Austria-Hungary. The Tsar of Russia makes catastrophic errors of judgment and the old Emperor cannot live forever. His successor—Archduke Franz Ferdinand—is hardly the most popular heir to the throne. I cannot see either of them surviving a war. Still, there is nothing we can do about it. Events will unfold as they will.” He sighed and leaned back in his seat again.
“One thing is for sure,” Adeline said, “I shall never be able to return there. To that house.”
“No, my dear, under no circumstances must you ever return, or to Vienna. Not ever.”
The vehemence with which he spoke those words disturbed Adeline, Not that she had any intention of returning, but to be told so forcefully that she must not, concerned her more than she was prepared to admit.
The professor looked as if he might be about to say more. Adeline steeled herself. Whatever was troubling him, she had to find out.
“What is it, Professor?”
He patted her hand. “Very well. I suppose it is only right you hear it all. Even though it will probably damage your high opinion of me. You see, I am as fallible and capable of making a mistake—and a grave one at that—as anyone else. When I read the hieroglyphics in that room, I believed they related to Cleopatra. That they were her words. But…”
“But if not hers, whose were they?”
The professor shook his head. “That is a question for which I have no answer. I looked for it on the scroll, but I found that it is torn at the bottom. It seems to end, but I believe a piece may be missing. One that could answer that very question, and who knows what else I might have unraveled? I only hope it isn’t significant enough to change the task we are undertaking.”
“Including, perhaps, how to get rid of Dr. Quintillus once and for all.”
“Indeed, my dear. All we can do is hope he remains trapped down there.”
* * * *
The carriage arrived at the station, which seethed with passengers. The professor and Adeline found a porter for their luggage and followed him to their train. Professor Mayer had purchased first class tickets for them and they quickly found their compartment, where they settled back and prepared for their journey. The professor set his briefcase up on the luggage rack. “I must keep the scroll with me at all times,” he said. Then he patted his jacket pocket. “And the statue is safely tucked away here.”
Apprehension filled Adeline, especially with the professor’s so recently revealed fears. Normally, she, who had never traveled anywhere out of England until she came to Vienna, would have felt excited at the prospect of visiting somewhere new. Instead, she couldn’t wait to see the familiar grays and blacks of smoky London.
Chapter 12
Magda trudged back into the house. Istvan and Ferenc stayed outside to attend to their horse and their sister closed the door, without locking it.
She returned to the library, yawning. Soon she would pack her suitcase and leave this place forever. But for now… exhaustion overwhelmed her and she sank down onto the Chesterfield. The fire crackled and the flames warmed her. She leaned back and her eyes refused to stay open. Maybe a few minutes rest would give her the energy she needed to pack her few belongings and lock up the house. Its contents could stay there. Let the doctor’s lawyers deal with all of that. Magda had been through enough for the employer she had never met.
* * * *
She awoke with a start. The fire had died down to faintly glowing embers. She must have been asleep for an hour or more and one look at the clock told her she was right. Nearly two hours had elapsed. Surely Istvan and Ferenc must be in by now. Magda looked around her and rubbed her eyes. She stood up, stretching limbs that had stiffened. Suddenly she became aware of something behind her. She turned and cried out.
An emerald incandescence illuminated the wall. It pulsated like a heartbeat. Silhouetted against it, in profile, stood a shadow of a man with an animal’s head, dressed like an ancient Egyptian. In an instant, she knew this must be the god Set the professor had spoken of.
Magda screamed. “What do you want from me?”
The shadow remained unmoving. The glow continued to pulsate. Someone hammered at the door. The handle rattled.
Ferenc’s frantic voice. “Magda. Open the door.”
“I can’t,” she replied. “There’s…something…blocking my way.”
“Magda! You have to try. It won’t open.”
A sudden draft of cold air hit her from behind. Instinctively, she turned to the source.
The door by the window stood wide open. A dim light shone through. Then the entrance wasn’t empty anymore. A tall figure stood there. Familiar in her long black dress.
“Frau Lederer! But how?”
The woman smiled and held out her han
d. “Come, my child, you’ll be safe with me.”
Every instinct and pore of her being told her to ignore the woman’s words, but the pulsating green grew stronger. The shadow began to turn toward her. It took on form. Any second and it would be as real as Magda herself.
Magda screamed again. A mighty crash. Istvan and Ferenc were battering the door down. It bowed and creaked but did not give. Whatever controlled this had made sure she would be trapped inside.
Except she wasn’t. Not completely.
“Come, my child. I will keep you safe,” the cook said.
Magda looked frantically back and forth between the rapidly coalescing figure of Set and the friendly smile of Frau Lederer.
Set took a step away from the wall.
Magda grabbed her skirt and ran to the former cook.
The woman grasped her hand and propelled her through the door. It slammed shut behind them.
“Where are you taking me?”
Frau Lederer didn’t answer. She dragged Magda down the stairs and along the corridor. Her grip was not the friendly clasp of someone who wanted to protect her.
The cook shoved Magda into the room at the end of the corridor. She tripped and sprawled across the floor. Tears sprang to her eyes.
The former cook’s eyes filled with contempt. “You didn’t really think I came to save you, did you? That I would forgive what you did to me? Here. In this basement.”
“But that wasn’t you. You were possessed. That woman…”
“Arsinoe?”
Magda nodded. “She took you over. You’re not a bad person. I know that.”
The woman tossed back her head and laughed. Raucous. Harsh. Magda cringed.
“You killed this body.”
“But you weren’t dead. My brothers…”
“Your brothers are fools. They know nothing of my power. Or the power of the great god, Set. This body was dead. This body remains dead.” Frau Lederer bent down and grabbed Magda’s hand. She placed it over her heart.
“Try and find it all you may, but you will feel no heartbeat. No fresh air fills my lungs.”
Wrath of the Ancients Page 14
