by Kara LaReau
“Luckily, I can fall asleep under any circumstances,” Mr. Red said.
“I have a fool-proof sleep method,” Victor said. “I learned it from my—er, actually, I came up with it, after years of careful research. I just need to close my eyes and imagine I’m floating up, up, up an invisible staircase . . .”
• • •
“What now?” asked Kale. “One of them has the real scarab, but we don’t know which one!”
Jaundice thought for a moment.
“I have a plan,” she whispered.
“What do I do?” asked Kale.
“Sneak over to the back of the car,” Jaundice said, lying down on the ground. “When you hear me yell which one of them has the right scarab, snatch it and start running.”
“How are you going to know?” Kale asked.
“Just trust me,” said Jaundice, closing her eyes and imagining invisible staircases and velvet, feathered nests.
Kale sighed and did what she was told. After all, Jaundice was almost always right.
But just as Kale arrived at her hiding spot behind the car, she thought she heard a jangling noise. She snuck over to the passenger side and peered in. Inside, Mr. Red was handcuffing Victor to the steering wheel. In her surprise, Kale stumbled back onto the sand. The movement must have caught Mr. Red’s eye, because he turned his head.
“Uh-oh,” Kale said.
“Kale?” Mr. Red whispered. “Is that you?”
He lowered his sunglasses and leaned down. His eyes looked so . . . familiar.
“Aunt Magique?” Kale whispered. “Is that . . . you?”
The Queen of Magic smiled. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We have a plan.”
“Plan M,” Kale said, remembering her parents’ words back in the tomb.
“At your service,” said Magique, tipping her fedora.
“Jaundice and I have a plan, too,” Kale informed her aunt, whispering the rest of the details.
Just then, the Bland Sisters’ parents appeared from the shadows and approached Uggo and the man clutching the briefcase.
“How did you two escape?” Uggo asked. He shook his head. “No matter. Move along. We’re conducting business here.”
“So are we,” said Hattie. Bert produced a gun from his vest and pointed it at the men.
Al raised his free hand. But Uggo hesitated.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Isn’t that a . . . flare gun?”
WHAM!
Al swung the briefcase, hitting Uggo in the face. He crumpled to the ground.
“Brava, Albertine!” said Bert, giving his niece (and Magique’s daughter) a hug.
“I’m glad that’s over with,” Albertine said, peeling off her disguise. “Though I must say, I was just starting to like the beard.”
In the meantime, Victor Gazebo was having the best dream of his life. He was a pharaoh in ancient Egypt, and he was sitting on a golden throne. Beautiful women cooled him with fans. His subjects looked up at him in adoration. There was only one thing missing.
“Has anyone seen a man in a red tie?” he asked. His subjects merely smiled. The women kept fanning.
Gazebo stood up. He looked around. He craned his neck to get a good view of the throne room.
“Mr. Red? I’m over here!” he shouted. “Where are you?”
“I’m right here,” said a voice.
Victor Gazebo turned his head to see Jaundice standing right next to him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’m here to take what’s not yours,” she said.
The women who had been fanning Gazebo turned into the Lost Twins.
“The Sacred Scarabs of the Twins are both in use,” Nehy said. “When they are in use, their rightful owners are summoned.”
“Return what you have stolen!” Nefret cried.
Gazebo looked down. The throne was now crawling with snakes.
“Snakes?!” he cried, trying to swat them away. “Why did it have to be snakes?”
He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. The snakes were winding around his arms and legs.
“Let me out! Let me out of here!” he shouted.
“If you insist,” said Jaundice. She turned to Nehy and Nefret. “Sorry to have to leave you both like this.”
“It is all right,” said Nefret. “This is the most fun we’ve had in ages.”
“Literally,” said Nehy, smiling.
Jaundice smiled, too. Then she started shouting.
From her hiding spot next to the car, Kale heard her sister calling out to her in her sleep.
“Kale!” Jaundice cried. “It’s Gazebo! IT’S GAZEBO!”
Kale scurried over to Gazebo’s side of the car. Carefully, she plucked the scarab from behind his head, hoping not to wake him. But just as she was backing away, he opened his eyes.
“The girl! She has one of the scarabs!” Gazebo shouted. He tried to lunge at Kale, but his handcuffed hand pulled him back. Then he turned to Mr. Red for help, but all he saw was Magique, standing on the other side of the car in her impeccable suit, fluffing her hair.
“That ‘girl’ is my niece,” Magique said, smiling. “Clearly, you messed with the wrong family, little man.”
“Uggo, the keys!” Gazebo shouted. Unfortunately, Uggo had somehow slithered away from Bert and Hattie and Albertine, and was ready to do his boss’s bidding. He got in the car next to Victor and tossed him the keys.
At this, Kale started running. She nudged Jaundice awake along the way.
“Time to go,” Kale said.
“Huh . . .?” Jaundice said sleepily.
“Jaundice! Kale!” Hattie cried. “We told you girls to wait in the car!”
“Would you have waited in the car?” Bert asked.
“No, I suppose not,” Hattie admitted, as they both started running, too.
Kale caught a glimpse of Omar behind the wheel.
“Omar!” she cried. “Start the car! Start the car!”
Omar did what he was told. Unfortunately, his jalopy chose that very moment to experience engine trouble.
Kale looked over her shoulder. Her mother and father were close behind, as were Victor and Uggo in their car. Magique and Albertine were off in the shadows, attempting to start what looked like a motorcycle. But where was Jaundice?
“Wake up, sister!” Kale shouted. “Wake up!”
Finally, Jaundice opened her eyes . . . to see the headlights of Gazebo’s car coming right at her. All she could do was scream and close her eyes again—
—and at that moment, someone grabbed her. It was Beatrix, pulling Jaundice up onto the back of Cleo, who kept galloping.
“Hold on!” said Beatrix. Jaundice did as she was told.
Hattie pulled Kale into the back of Omar’s car; from the rear window, she could see Gazebo’s car swerve back onto the road and pull up right behind them. Farther back was Beatrix, though Cleo was gaining ground.
“Where to?” asked Omar.
“To the Bluebird,” said Bert.
“Can this thing go any faster?” asked Hattie.
“I thought you’d never ask,” said Omar. As he stepped on the gas, everyone fell back into their seats.
But Victor Gazebo wasn’t about to let them get away. He stepped on the gas, too, and sped right up to Omar’s car’s rear bumper, which he began ramming with the front bumper of his car.
“He’s trying to run us off the road!” cried Omar.
“What do we do?” asked Kale.
“He’s trying to run them off the road!” cried Beatrix.
“What do we do?” asked Jaundice.
“We need to get him out of the way, somehow,” said Beatrix.
Jaundice fished around in her smock pockets. She pulled out the bottle of sunscreen Ricky had given her.
“I have a plan,” she said. “Can you get us in front of the car?”
“You should know by now, I can do anything,” Beatrix replied. “Giddy-up, Cleo!”
The h
orse did as she was told. Soon, they were at the side of Gazebo’s car, and then, they were in front of it.
“Here goes nothing!” Jaundice shouted.
She turned and opened the bottle, then squeezed it as hard as she could. A steady stream of goopy white sunscreen splattered all over the windshield. The car swerved to the side of the road.
As Beatrix and Jaundice rode off, Jaundice could see Uggo leaning out the side window, shaking his fist.
“Now that’s teamwork,” said Jaundice.
VROOM VROOM.
Beatrice turned around. Victor’s car was back on the road, its windshield wipers clearing away the sunscreen.
“Oh, no! What do we do?” Jaundice cried.
Beatrix considered the situation. “This one is going to be trickier,” she said. “Have you ever ridden a horse?”
“Other than right now?” asked Jaundice.
“All you have to do is hold the reins,” said Beatrix. “Cleo will do the rest.”
“I’m scared,” said Jaundice.
“So am I,” Beatrix said. “But we’re still going to do this. That’s what heroes do. Okay?”
Jaundice swallowed hard. “Okay.”
“Good girl,” said Beatrix, squeezing the horse’s sides. “Giddy-up, Cleo!”
Cleo turned around and headed right for Victor’s car. Beatrix met eyes with Gazebo and gave him a wave. He sneered at her in reply.
“Okay, here we go!” she cried. “Remember, hold on tight!”
“Okay!” Jaundice said, gripping Cleo’s reins.
And then, Beatrix jumped.
WHOMP.
She landed on the hood of Gazebo’s car.
“Going my way?” Beatrix asked him.
“Aaaah!” Gazebo shrieked.
“Gaaah!” cried Uggo.
In his surprise, Victor Gazebo took his hands off the wheel.
LANDING A PLANE TAKES SKILL AND PRACTICE. WHEN YOU COME DOWN ONTO THE RUNWAY, MAKE SURE YOU’RE FLYING ACCURATELY AND SMOOTHLY.
TAKING OFF! with Trip Winger
SCREEEEEECH.
Victor Gazebo’s car swerved off the road—
CRASH.
And flipped over into a ditch.
Jaundice galloped by on Cleo.
“Beatrix!” she cried.
But between the kicked-up sand and the smoke, Jaundice couldn’t see or hear anything. All she could do was keep riding.
“Giddy-up,” she said. Jaundice held tight to Cleo and her reins as they galloped across the desert, all the way to the riverbank, where Omar’s cousin, Ahmed, was waiting with his barge. Omar’s car was already there.
“Where is Beatrix?” Hattie asked.
“I don’t know,” said Jaundice, spitting out sand. “She jumped on Victor Gazebo’s car, and then they all drove off the road. It flipped over into a ditch.”
Magique and Albertine pulled up on a motorcycle-with-sidecar.
“I think we are now at capacity,” Ahmed informed everyone. The barge set off across the river.
“So sorry we’re late,” Magique said. “This motorcycle needs a serious tune-up.”
“I found it by the side of the road,” Omar admitted, shrugging. “It was the best I could get for you on short notice.”
Kale squinted as she looked at the motorcycle. “That belonged to the Daughters of Sekhmet,” she said.
“Cool,” said Albertine, holding up a familiar jackknife. “Did this belong to them, too? I found it wedged in the spokes.”
“That belongs to Beatrix. She’ll be glad to know it’s not lost,” said Kale.
“I’ll be glad to know she’s not lost,” said Jaundice.
“Beatrix is skilled at many things, but especially at staying alive,” said Omar, producing a walkie-talkie. “Though, just to be safe, I have already called for an ambulance.”
Soon, the barge reached the other side of the Nile, where the Bluebird was waiting.
“We should go,” Magique said. “We have a show in Luxor tonight, and we have a lot to do.”
“Thank you for your help,” Bert said, hugging his sister.
“Anytime, brother,” said Magique. “That’s what family’s for.”
“Thanks for the motorcycle,” Albertine said, shaking Omar’s hand.
“I may not be a magician, but I can make just about anything you need appear,” Omar said, offering his business card.
Albertine and Magique hugged everyone goodbye, and then they were off in a puff of exhaust.
“Neither we nor these scarabs will be safe until we can get them to the museum in Cairo, and back in the twins’ sarcophagi, where they belong,” Hattie reminded everyone. “We have to go right now—we can’t wait any longer!”
“Well, we can’t go anywhere without Beatrix,” Bert said. “Who else is going to fly the plane?”
“I will,” said a voice.
Everyone turned around. It was Kale.
“Beatrix showed me how to take off and land. And I’ve read all of this,” she said, pulling TAKING OFF! with Trip Winger out of her backpack.
Hattie and Bert looked at Kale. They looked at each other. They blinked.
“Are you sure?” Bert asked.
“Life’s not worth living unless we’re taking risks and challenging ourselves,” Kale said. “Beatrix taught me that. And you did, too.”
Her parents hugged her.
“You are definitely our daughter,” Hattie said.
“Let’s go!” cried Bert.
Everyone started getting in the plane. Everyone except for Jaundice. She was bent over now, and breathing heavily.
“What’s the matter?” Kale asked.
“I . . . I can’t,” said Jaundice.
“You’ve flown before, honey,” Bert reminded her.
“And each time it felt worse,” Jaundice said. Her eyes were closed now; she couldn’t even bear to look at the airplane.
“You just rode a horse across the Egyptian desert,” Hattie said. “You thwarted the Daughters of Sekhmet. You outwitted Victor Gazebo, and rescued me and your father.”
“And don’t forget, you survived kidnapping by an entire crew of pirates aboard the Jolly Regina and solved a baffling mystery on the Uncanny Express,” Bert said.
“I know,” said Jaundice, who was now turning green. “But this—I—I just can’t.”
“It looks like she’s having a panic attack,” said Bert.
“It’s her aviophobia. That’s what Beatrix calls it,” Kale said, frowning. “Or called it.”
At this, Jaundice began to cry.
“What do we do?” asked Kale.
“I could stay here with her, and you two could go ahead to Cairo,” Bert suggested.
“And split up again?” Kale asked incredulously.
“No. We’re a family. We should stick together,” Hattie said. She turned to Jaundice. She put a hand on her forehead. “Honey, I want you to close your eyes.”
Jaundice did what she was told.
“Now imagine you’re floating up . . . up . . . up . . . an invisible staircase,” Hattie said, her voice warm and soothing.
All these years, Jaundice had imagined her mother saying these words—hearing them in person made her relax immediately.
“And into a nest . . . made of feathers . . . and velvet,” Hattie continued. Though Jaundice was fast asleep before her mother reached the word feathers.
Together, Hattie, Bert, and Kale lifted the sleeping Jaundice and carried her up the stairs and onto the plane. Omar waved to them as they went.
“The ambulance is on its way, and I have just radioed my contact at the police station,” he informed them, waving his walkie-talkie. “I will find Beatrix and make sure Gazebo is brought to justice!”
Kale reviewed TAKING OFF! with Trip Winger one last time, remembering everything Beatrix had taught her. After she drained the plane’s hull and performed a preflight check, she climbed into the pilot’s seat and put on Beatrix’s cap, goggles, and radio headset. She too
k a deep breath.
“I have control,” Kale said, finally. She yelled “CLEAR” out the window and engaged the starter.
The Bluebird’s engine roared to life, its propellers spinning. Kale eased the throttle forward. She checked the instruments and the airspeed indicator.
“All systems go?” Hattie asked.
Kale nodded. She eased back on the stick.
It wasn’t the smoothest of liftoffs, but the Bluebird was definitely in the air. That was something, at least. Kale looked back at Jaundice, who was fast asleep in Hattie’s arms. She seemed to be smiling.
Jaundice dreamed she was back in the garden of the Winter Palace, sitting on the very bench where she and Kale had fallen asleep the day before. It was a beautiful day, and the gardens were filled with people. Jaundice was pleasantly surprised that neither the bright sun nor the crowds seemed to bother her. Two people in particular looked familiar, and slightly out of place. It was Nehy and Nefret, and they were coming toward her.
“Hello,” Jaundice said. “What are you doing here?”
“We had to stop by and thank you, for all your help in reuniting the scarabs,” said Nehy.
“We’re so glad we don’t have to haunt other people’s dreams anymore,” said Nefret.
“Ugh,” said Nehy, rolling his eyes. “Other people’s dreams are so boring.”
“Helping you was the right thing to do,” said Jaundice. “Even if it did almost get us killed, on several occasions.”
“You speak about adventure as if it’s a bad thing,” said Nehy.
“Well, it is fun sometimes, like learning to ride Cleo, and making use of things in my smock pockets, and solving mysteries and thwarting villains with my sister,” Jaundice mused. “Even being kidnapped by assassins and trapped in your father’s tomb weren’t all that terrible, now that I look back on it. I just couldn’t get on the plane by myself in the end, though. I was too afraid.”
“You were brave in many other ways,” Nehy pointed out.
“Sometimes our fears are bigger than we are,” said Nefret. “When we were younger, my brother and I were afraid of many things: the dark, dogs, water—”
“And spiders,” recalled Nehy. “Don’t forget spiders.”
“So, what happened? How did you both deal with it?” Jaundice asked.
