Alexander laughed – and then glanced guiltily at us, his hand going up to his hair. I knew he was thinking about how Daisy and I had once hidden on the Orient Express.
‘We’ve got to watch the ritual!’ said Amina. We all stared at her in surprise – apart from Daisy, who looked very admiring and then saw me looking and haughtily tried to pretend she was not. ‘I want to see what these fools will do. The weighing of the heart’s part of the afterlife, you know – when the dead person’s heart is weighed by the gods against a feather to see if they did wrong in their life.’
‘A feather?’ asked Alexander, pulling a face. ‘Against someone’s heart?’
‘I’ve always thought it must have been a very big feather,’ said Amina, grinning.
George looked at her thoughtfully. ‘But won’t it upset you?’ he asked.
‘Not any more than I already am,’ said Amina. ‘And it’s not as though I believe in it. I’m Muslim. It’s more that – well, they’re making a mockery of my country’s history. And—’
‘And?’ asked Daisy.
‘And,’ said Amina, ‘if something were to go wrong … well, it would be funny, that’s all.’
She sparkled around at all of us – and that was how we all found ourselves pressed against the outside of the saloon windows that evening at 10 p.m., spying on the Breath of Life’s mysterious ritual.
4
As always, the reality of our missions was more awkward and annoying than the fantasy of them. We had told Miss Beauvais, Mr Young and Father conflicting stories about where we were off to, and I was terribly worried that they would realize our deception. I was also very aware that my heels were teetering on the edge of the narrow walkway around the saloon, and just as aware that there was a river flowing below my feet. Most of the others had to turn sideways to fit on. We clung together, Daisy’s arms digging into my shoulders, George’s left shoe pressed against my ankle, and Amina’s fingers clinging to my left arm. I was doing my very best not to touch Alexander at all.
The net curtains were lowered for the evening, turning everything inside the saloon misty and indistinct – and giving us the perfect spying opportunity. I knew that the people in the saloon would be cushioned by the warm pink glow of their shaded lamps, able to see nothing but the light – certainly not the blurry faces of five people pressed against the second window from the left on the port side.
‘Your hair’s in my way, Hazel,’ hissed Daisy in my ear, writhing to the left and almost overbalancing me.
Amina squeaked and said, ‘Hey!’
‘Shush, everyone,’ whispered George, his voice so quiet that I more felt the rumble of it than heard it. ‘It’s about to begin.’
And it was. The followers of the Breath of Life Society were ready, wearing what I supposed were versions of the galabeyas that the Egyptians wore – but these robes were gaudy and cheap-looking, hung about with shiny stones and embroidered with gold thread. On their heads were crowns, cheap gilt paper ones.
Amina snorted. ‘Their crowns are all wrong for pharaohs,’ she said crossly. ‘Well! I’m gladder than ever that I—’
Here she stopped, and grinned to herself.
‘What?’ asked Daisy curiously.
‘Oh, you’ll see,’ said Amina, smirking more than ever. ‘You’ll see.’
There was a small, round pharaoh with a flash of white hair that must be Miss Bartleby, the yellow-haired helmet of Mr DeWitt, bony Miss Doggett, and a taller, curly-haired person who stood as if in an unhappy dream – Heppy. There was no sign of Daniel. Then everyone shifted and rustled and swayed aside as one more robed figure, this time in gorgeous gold and deep blue, proceeded in from the doorway that led to the cabins. It was Theodora Miller, clutching in one hand a large carving knife that had clearly been pilfered from dinner and – I clapped my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh – a small feather duster in the other, of the sort that the maids used to tidy the cabins every morning.
There was a lull within the saloon, then Heppy jumped, shook herself and cried, ‘The great pharaoh Hatshepsut returns! She has triumphed over death, and now she comes to weigh us all in the balance and bring us too to eternal life. Welcome her!’
‘Welcome!’ intoned everyone. Now Daisy was giggling too – big, shaking gasps that almost threw me off balance into the river below. I prodded her, holding my breath.
‘I AM HERE!’ cried Theodora Miller. ‘REJOICE! Heppy, that delivery was quite off – you must apply yourself more. And where is Daniel? I thought he’d be here.’
‘Sorry, M— Theodora,’ said Heppy. ‘Daniel said that he didn’t want to come. I did ask, I promise I did. Lo, she weighs our hearts on her scales against the feather of truth. But beware: the unworthy will face the Knife of Destiny!’
Theodora raised her arms dramatically.
Miss Doggett stepped forward, palms up, looking as though she was expecting to receive something, but Theodora turned away from her, handing the knife to Mr DeWitt. I saw Miss Doggett start and scowl, and a smile break across Mr DeWitt’s wrinkled old face.
‘I will weigh your hearts,’ said Theodora Miller theatrically. ‘I will WEIGH YOUR HEARTS on the SCALES – Heppy, are you listening? Where are the scales? Didn’t Rhiannon give them to you?’
Heppy jumped again. ‘Oh – yes – sorry, of course,’ she stammered. ‘They’re just down here – oh, wait, I was sure they were here—’
‘Ida, help her!’ snapped Theodora Miller.
Miss Doggett shoved Heppy aside and went ferreting about one-handed under the saloon table, emerging a few moments later with a large, battered weighing scales that looked as though they had come from the kitchens.
‘Excellent, Ida,’ said Theodora. ‘Now I shall sit, and—’
But, as she lowered herself dramatically into one of the saloon chairs that had been draped with gorgeous fabrics, the room was filled with a long, loud, very rude sound. Mrs Miller leaped up again, scarlet in the face, and from under her seat pulled out a whoopee cushion.
Beside me, Amina was in paroxysms of laughter. ‘It’s perfect!’ she wheezed. ‘Perfect! Did you see her face!’
Theodora was looking about her at the other Breath of Life members. Mr DeWitt was bewildered, Miss Doggett disgusted, Miss Bartleby embarrassed and Heppy horrified. But Theodora must have misread Heppy’s expression, for she hissed, ‘Another black mark! I shall talk to you afterwards!’, her eyes screwed up with pure rage.
And I got an uncomfortable feeling. Amina’s joke – for I knew it had been her – was funny, but Theodora Miller could not see the funny side at all. She had been humiliated, and she thought she knew who was behind it. Would Heppy have to pay for what Amina had done?
5
But the ritual, after a pause, seemed to be back on track. Intoning mysterious words (‘They’re nonsense!’ hissed Amina in annoyance. ‘She’s just pronouncing Arabic words wrong! How silly!’), Theodora Miller took the feather duster in both hands and began to make the most extraordinary movements around the room. She spun, she leaped, she reached up and crouched down, waving the duster in front of her.
Daisy was properly laughing now, and even Alexander was making a guilty sniggering noise. I looked over at him and he mouthed – ‘I can’t help it! It’s just so funny!’
At last Mrs Miller put the duster reverently on the scales.
‘It is time for the Reckoning,’ she intoned. ‘Come forth, and place your hand here.’
Miss Doggett and Mr DeWitt stepped forward together, and then glared at each other. Once again, I saw that they were vying for the role as Theodora’s second – and, once again, Theodora made her choice.
‘Narcissus,’ said Theodora. ‘Come and be weighed.’
Mr DeWitt moved over to the scales, Miss Doggett hissing furiously behind him. He placed his hand lightly on the opposite side of the scales to the feather duster. It wobbled gently, and then held.
‘Well, of course it’s not going down. He’s not putting any weight on it
!’ said George scornfully.
‘I see your good deeds these past few days have lightened your soul,’ said Theodora approvingly. ‘You remain a worthy Thutmose. Go now, and do likewise.’
It was so odd to watch this ceremony – it felt like a strange mixture of the Christian services I knew in Hong Kong and England, and the things I had read about ancient Egyptian beliefs. Neither one was done right, though, and nothing about this felt real. It was like looking at worship in a funhouse mirror, pulled out of shape and ridiculous.
Miss Doggett was next. She put her left hand down confidently, but Theodora reached out a finger and tapped it. The scales dipped, the feather duster rising, and Miss Doggett gasped.
‘You have work to do,’ said Theodora to her. ‘You have erred lately, Ida. You have not been faithful to me and my orders. You must step away from the darkness and move back towards the light, otherwise you may no longer be worthy of Cleopatra’s name.’
And the look that Miss Doggett gave her was so fierce that I almost thought I could feel it through the window and the curtains.
Miss Bartleby was pronounced good – I saw her flinch a little, and wondered why – and then it was Heppy’s turn.
She stepped forward, and I could tell she was trembling. She placed her hand on the scales, and before Mrs Miller could even lean forward her shaking made it dip, the side with the feather duster rising upwards sharply.
‘Wickedness,’ breathed Theodora. ‘Sin. Heppy, you have done wrong yet again. You are not following my orders. You are rude, you are lazy, you are hopeless, and you still sleepwalk constantly. I know you were in my room again last night!’
‘But I didn’t mean it! I do try!’ whimpered Heppy. ‘It’s just that I have such bad dreams.’
‘You are not trying hard enough. You disappoint me, and you disappoint the gods. Reincarnation continues to move further away from you. At the moment, you are an entirely unsuitable vessel for the spirit of any great person.’
‘But – but—’ gasped Heppy, a sob in her voice.
‘No buts. Do better. And bring me the Cup of Life so we can at least finish the ritual.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Heppy miserably.
There was a pause, in which I saw Heppy look around in mounting panic.
‘Where is the Cup of Life?’ asked Theodora Miller. ‘Heppy! Where is the cup?’
‘Um – you asked – you asked Miss Bartleby to get it,’ said Heppy at last.
Theodora swung round to Miss Bartleby, who had been standing, looking vaguely around, as though she hoped the cup would appear from someone else’s robe. Her face changed as I watched – through surprise, to confusion, and at last a sort of sick horror.
‘But I’m sure I asked you to get it, dear,’ she said.
‘I – I – but I told you an hour ago!’ said Heppy. ‘You were standing just outside, and I came up to you and asked—’
‘I’m sure you did NOT!’ snapped Miss Bartleby, in a sharper tone than I had ever heard her use. ‘Nonsense! You’ve forgotten it, Heppy, and you’re making up excuses, just as Theodora said!’
‘She does that,’ agreed Mrs Miller. ‘It is one of her many failings. Heppy, go and get a cup!’
Heppy gasped, her eyes filling with big tears, and then she fled from the room, crashing the door open and making everyone jump. There was another further-away crash as her cabin door opened, a spilling sort of rattle, another crash, pounding feet and then she was back, the tooth mug from her cabin in her hands.
‘Here,’ she said thickly. ‘Take it. It was my fault.’
But I was looking at Miss Bartleby, whose face had resumed its haunted, horrified expression, and I was not so sure about that. It seemed as though everyone in the Breath of Life was determined to pin their mistakes on Heppy.
Theodora blessed the water in the tooth mug by blowing on it, Mr DeWitt took it from her and passed it round, and everyone took a thin little sip (I suspected it still tasted faintly of toothpaste).
‘Rejoice, you are all blessed,’ said Theodora briskly, picking up the duster again and taking the knife from Narcissus. ‘Well done, Narcissus and Rhiannon. You have pleased me. Ida, Heppy, you will do better tomorrow.’
I looked at Miss Doggett again, and saw her vibrating with fury at that. Her bony knuckles were clenched. Next to her, Heppy looked crushed. Mr DeWitt was smirking, and Miss Bartleby still had that blank panic on her face.
I got a very uncomfortable feeling. It had been a joke, to watch the ceremony. But what we had seen was not really funny at all.
6
Then the saloon door opened once again. We craned to see who it was. I could feel the same nervous detective excitement that was in me (for it was detective excitement by then: I was certain that something dreadful was going to happen) in everyone else as well. We were all hooked in, the five of us, like a line of fish.
‘This is the best adventure I’ve ever been on,’ murmured Amina quietly beside me.
Daniel Miller stood in the doorway, his arms folded.
‘Have you quite finished?’ he asked. ‘Can I come in for a drink, or are you still messing about with your nonsense?’
‘Daniel,’ said Mrs Miller, and for the first time that evening her face softened. ‘Come in. I wish you would listen to me – if only you would let me welcome you back into the society.’
‘Never,’ said Daniel, his expression full of disgust. ‘It’s all fakery! You tricked me in your letters – you told me this would be a family holiday. It’s the only reason I came.’
‘The Breath of Life are my family, Daniel dear. And they can be your family once again, if you come back to us. There’s a place for you here. I have had powerful messages from the Beyond in the last few months – I am more sure than ever that you are the reincarnation of Tutankhamun.’
Daniel staggered as though he had been pushed. ‘How could you?’ he gasped. ‘That was – that was what you called him. That’s how you tricked him!’
‘We don’t trick anyone! It is true that Joshua Morse was our Tutankhamun once – but Joshua made the decision to leave us.’
‘And then he died!’ cried Daniel. ‘You never mention that detail, do you, Mother? He died within a day of leaving your disgusting society.’
Beside me, I heard Daisy’s sharp intake of breath.
‘Don’t use that word!’ Theodora Miller’s face twisted in pain. ‘I am not to be referred to as your – your – and, as you know, we in the society do not pass away. Joshua’s body is gone, but his ba, his soul – the great soul of Tutankhamun – is still present, and I believe it has settled in your body.’
‘You’re ridiculous,’ said Daniel, fury on his face. ‘You can’t just pretend that we aren’t your children because it isn’t convenient any more. Well, I’ll give you what you want. After this trip is over, I never want to speak to you again. This was your last chance to be rational, but I see you can’t ever be. I want you to know that I blame you utterly for Joshua’s death – and you have given me no reason to believe otherwise. You’d got all his money, hadn’t you? You had no need of him any more!’
‘Daniel!’ said Theodora. ‘You’re wrong! This is the true way! You must – you must come back to the group! Please – if we could just talk—’
She sounded quite desperate.
Daniel said something to her that I cannot repeat. The door slammed so loudly behind him that it shook the railings we were balanced against.
‘Poor troubled boy,’ said Theodora, her voice unsteady. ‘I pray he will see sense in time. Rhiannon, come with me. I need to get ready for bed. Heppy, you come too in a bit. It can be a good deed for your Book. Narcissus, tidy up. Ida, think on your errors.’
She stormed out, passing Mr Young in the doorway.
‘Er, hello,’ he said to the others. ‘Have you – have you seen the boys? I seem to have lost them.’
‘Certainly not,’ said Miss Doggett, and then she and the rest of the Breath of Life stood, not quite looki
ng at each other, the way British people do when they have seen something embarrassing that they want to pretend was not real. At last they filtered away. Mr Young wandered back towards his cabin, seemingly quite unaware of the scene that had just preceded him.
‘Rats!’ said Alexander. ‘George, we’d better go find him.’
‘Gosh!’ sighed Daisy. ‘To think that we were there for that! Now hurry, let’s go before he notices us here. Alexander, George, go and pretend to have been downstairs or something.’
As George and Alexander slipped away, we all felt rather pleased with ourselves. It felt like the beginning of something mysterious. We were sure we had seen many important things.
But what we did not know, of course, was that the most important moment of the night was yet to come.
7
Daisy and I lay in our beds, unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling and listening to the crackle of insects and the splash and call of night-time birds. A mosquito had slipped its way into our cabin and was circling, its hiss louder and softer with every spin past my ear.
‘Wasn’t that fascinating?’ said Daisy after a while.
‘It was awful!’ I replied. ‘I really think something’s up with the Breath of Life.’
‘I know!’ said Daisy, sitting up with a bounce. ‘And it’s about time that something happened. At last! We’re in Egypt, on a boat with a religious cult, and something’s afoot. Who is Joshua? Did Mrs Miller really have something to do with his death? That seems to have been what Daniel was getting at, wouldn’t you agree? What’s up with Miss Doggett and Mr DeWitt’s rivalry? Why is Miss Bartleby behaving so shiftily? Why is everyone so determined to pin things on Heppy? It’s thrilling. Don’t you feel it, Hazel?’
‘Yes, all right, I do,’ I said. ‘Only – it feels a bit wrong to hope something awful will happen. We shouldn’t be wishing for crimes, Daisy.’
Death Sets Sail Page 6
