Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus

CHAPTER TEN A Walk in the Park

LUCKILY FOR US, it was one of those rare spring days when the weather was lovely. We could even see the sky for a change, which was a rarity. As we walked to the park, I tried to assemble my thoughts so I could send a coherent message to Wigmere. It was difficult, however, because Henry kept skipping along and asking questions such as "Do you think Will is going to remember me?" (Of course, Henry), "Do you think he'd teach me how to pick pockets?" (I sincerely hope not, Henry), and so on, so by the time we reached the park, I still had no idea of the actual message I would send.

Because of the nice weather, there was a small crowd and quite a lot of boys running around. Excellent. That should keep Henry entertained.

I searched the crowd, not sure what—if any—disguise Will would be wearing. There was one chimney sweep, but he was too small and too young. Besides, his hair was bright red. Just then, an older boy headed our way. I immediately recognized Will's bright blue eyes under the brim of his slightly grimy cap.

"'Ello, miss!"

"Will! You made it. Did you have any trouble getting here?"

"Nah, simple it was."

"Good. You remember my brother, Henry?"

"Course I do! 'Ow could I forget them whirligigs 'e came up with last time?"

Henry positively beamed. Will could not have said anything that would have pleased him more. Glancing around, I couldn't help but notice that all the other children had stopped their playing and were watching us. I lowered my voice. "We seem to have a bit of an audience," I said.

Will gave me a queer look. "Them's no audience, miss. Them's me brothers."

"All"—I made a quick count—"six of them?"

"Aye. You know Snuffles and Ratsy already." Indeed I did know Snuffles, but I'd never seen him without his enormous bowler hat on. And Ratsy I'd seen only in the dim light of the Alcazar Theater or covered in coal dust on board the Dreadnought.

"Ratsy's easy to remember because 'e kind of looks like a rat, don't 'e, miss?"

I had to admit, Ratsy's face was small and pinched and he had a rather long nose. However, even though Will had said it first, I thought it impolite to agree, so I simply pointed to the small chimney sweep who was trying to climb a tree. "Who's that?"

"Oh, that's Sparky, miss. There's no work for 'im today, so 'e's wif us."

"Is that why he's named Sparky? Because he works with chimneys?"

"Oh no, miss. 'E's named Sparky because 'e's right fond o' fire. Can light one using just about anything too."

"Fascinating," I said.

"Then that little blighter over there by the big bush is Pincher."

"Does he pinch then?" I asked, feeling somewhat leery after my experience with Miss Sharpe, one of my former governesses.

"Only wallets, miss. 'E's nearly as good as I am," Will said with a great deal of pride.

"What is he doing to that shrub?" I asked.

Will turned to have a look. "Oh, 'e's practicing. Seeing if 'e can pinch a leaf off wifout 'aving the other branches quiver. It's 'arder than it looks."

"So I would think," I said faintly.

"Then the two young'uns are Soggers and the Gob. Me mam isn't feeling well today so she gave 'em to me to take care of."

"Soggers? The Gob?" Honestly. Didn't anyone in his family have a real name?

Will leaned forward and in a stage whisper said, "Soggers still wets 'imself at night, miss, and the Gob, well, there 'e goes, see?" The toddler had picked up what looked to be an old cigar stub and was bringing it toward his mouth. "No, Gob! Put it down," Will shouted, then grabbed the stub from the toddler, who promptly began to cry. Will stuffed the cigar stub into his pocket—"There's a few good puffs left on this one," he explained—then picked up the wailing child and began jiggling the unhappy Gob on his hip. "So, miss, you got a message fer me to get to Wigmere?" His eyes shone with anticipation.

"I'm afraid there's been a change of plans. Wigmere's reminded me that I'm not to use you for messages anymore."

Will looked crestfallen. "Yer not going to use Fagenbush, are you?"

"No, no. If I can't send messages through you, I'll just deliver them myself."

Horrified, Will said, "No, you can't, miss! That neighbor'ood isn't safe for the likes of you. Besides"—a determined look settled over his face—"if that old goat finks I'm not trustworthy enough to deliver 'is messages, well, I'll show 'im. I can be just as reliable as any of 'is other agents."

"Wigmere won't be happy with us."

Will snorted, and the Gob stopped crying, fascinated by the sound his brother had just made. "I ain't afraid, miss."

"Very well. If you're sure."

"I'm sure." He turned and hollered across the park. "Sparky! Get over 'ere and take the Gob, will you?"

The redheaded boy leaped off the tree and jogged over to us. Will handed the Gob to him. "'Ush up, Gobby," Sparky said, then turned to Henry. "You going to stay and listen to them jaw or d'you want to come wif us?"

Henry looked at me. "Go on," I told him. "You already know what I'm going to tell Will."

A broad smile split his face. "Is it true you can make anything burn?" he asked as he followed Sparky to the far end of the park.

I rolled my eyes and tried not to think of what new skills Henry might learn.

"So, miss, what 'ave ye got?"

"Well, I think I've found another special artifact, sort of like the Staff of Osiris."

Will's eyebrows flew up. "One that can raise the dead?"

"No, no. At least, not that I know of. But one that seems more powerful than normal. Tell Wigmere I think I've found the Emerald Tablet—"

Sticky Will whistled. "Is it made of emeralds, miss?"

"I'm not sure. If so, it's one enormous emerald. But tell Wig—"

"Must be worth a fortune then."

I waved that assessment away. "Its value is in the carvings and its history. They're supposed to convey the alchemical secrets or some such. Wigmere will know. Ask him if he thinks this might belong to the same lot as the staff and what he'd like me to do with it. According to my research, people have been hunting for it for centuries."

"Very well, miss. You found the Emerald Tablet and want to know what 'e'd like you to do with it."

"Roughly, yes." I was distracted right then by the smell of smoke. Startled, I saw Sparky, Henry, Snuffles, and the Gob all squatting around a small pile of smoldering rubbish. "Henry! No!" I shouted.

"It's all right, miss. Sparky knows what 'e's doing," Will assured me.

"Yes, but Henry doesn't!" I hurried over to the group of boys, reached down, grabbed Henry's arm, and pulled him to his feet.

"Ow. What'd you go and do that for?"

"Henry, you can't start fires in the park!"

"Sparky was just showing me how to—"

"I don't care, Henry! And you—" I turned to Sparky. "You should know better than to start fires. What kind of example does that set for the Gob here? Plus," I said, eyeing two nannies who were beginning to watch us, "it's a good way to call the wrong sort of attention to yourself."

Sparky stood up and began stomping on the small fire. "She's about as much fun as a wet blanket," he complained to Will.

Will reached out and knocked Sparky's cap from his head, exposing more wiry red hair. "'Ush yer mouth now. Sorry, miss," he said to me.

Just then, one of the nannies—or perhaps she was a governess—rose up from her bench and headed our way. "Oh dear," I said to Will out of the side of my mouth. "Here comes trouble."

Indeed, she was starched and pressed to within an inch of her life and held herself with a distinctly military bearing. She stopped a few feet away from us, as if she were afraid she'd catch something if she ventured too close. "Excuse me." Her words were clipped and brisk. "I don't believe this park is intended for your use. It is specifically for those who live in Hartford Square. If you do not remove yourselves immediately, I shall go for the constable."

"We was just leavin' anyway, you old cow," Will said. "Come on, boys," he bellowed, then tipped his cap to me. "Later, miss."

I watched them go, furious that the woman had been so heartless. Before I could tell her so, she spoke. "I meant all of you," she said, pointing the way to the street.

Embarrassment, hot and sharp, flooded me. She thought I was an urchin just like Will! Furious, I tried to think of something to say, but Henry grabbed my hand and tugged. "Yeah, we were just going, too, you old bat."

When we arrived back at the museum, my cheeks were still stinging from the wretched governess at the park. I decided to go to ground for a bit. Henry was starving and went in search of food (Goodluck, I thought to myself). Determined to make my quest for solitude productive, I decided to go see if the results from the Second Level Test had come in yet.

Luckily, the hallways were empty; all the curators were no doubt busy in the foyer setting up the display cases and making them ready to receive the collection. As I descended the stairs, I couldn't help but wonder what I'd find. Even if the wax bits had turned foul, could I be certain it was the tablet and not a curse from something else close by?

However, what I did find was even more puzzling than that. The wax that I'd placed right next to the tablet was still white and untainted, even though all the rest of the wax I had scattered throughout the basement was indeed a foul green-black color. How odd. It was almost as if the space around the tablet were the only part of the basement that wasn't cursed. Did that mean it held a protective charm? Or merely that everything else down here was thick with evil magic, and the tablet was the only thing that wasn't? I sighed as my head began to ache. Why couldn't Egyptian magic ever be simple and straightforward?