Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus

CHAPTER FOURTEEN Aloysius Trawley Comes Out to Play

MOTHER AND FATHER DECIDED TO STAY at the museum that night, giving me an opportunity to conduct a Moonlight Test. In spite of what Wigmere had said, I wanted to conduct that one last test on the tablet before hiding it for good.

My parents had spent the whole day retranslating all the rubbings they'd taken from the annex to Thutmose Ill's tomb in accordance with the new translation they'd come up with. They were reluctant to quit, afraid their streak would falter if they were to leave it. Luckily, they did think to send Henry and me out for dinner late that afternoon, possibly because Henry was a pill when he was hungry.

Henry came with me to Mrs. Pilkington's pastry shop, where she said she was very pleased to meet him and gave us each a hot cross bun, which she was making for Good Friday, the next day. They were still warm from the oven; the slightly sweet dough practically melted on my tongue. Henry positively inhaled his, which was rather embarrassing. I savored mine as Mrs. Pilkington wrapped up our meat pies. "You two have a lovely Easter now," she said as she handed me the package.

"We will, Mrs. Pilkington. You too."

We stepped out into the raw afternoon, where the biting wind had picked up; we huddled in our coats and began the long trek back to the museum. Two blocks from Mrs. Pilkington's, I noticed a tall black figure tailing us, and my stomach dropped.

Not the scorpions! Not when I was with Henry.

I glanced quickly at my brother, wondering if he had noticed, but he was busy jumping over the cracks in the sidewalk.

Half a block later, a second figure stepped out of an alleyway as we passed and fell into step behind us. Henry stopped his game and sidled closer to me. "Is that man following us?" he whispered.

"What man?" I asked, my mind whirring. So far the only exposure Henry had had to all this was as a game, an adventure to pass time in the boring old museum. But now, as I looked into his worried blue eyes, I wasn't sure he'd want to know the real truth.

"Are you blind? How can you not see that obvious fellow back there?" The scorn in his tone made me want to point out that actually there were two men, how could he not see that? I didn't say it, though. After all, I'd had a bit more practice at this than he had.

I pretended to glance over my shoulder, as if to look at the man he was talking about. "I'm not sure, Henry. I do remember Mother and Father talking about some intense competition from the British Museum. Perhaps that's who they work for."

"But why would they be following us, then?"

Bother. Seen the hole in that theory, had he? "Well, I'm only guessing. It could also just be your imagination, you know."

A furtive flutter of movement across the street caught my eye. A rather enormous thickset man was keeping pace with us. His hat was pulled low over his forehead and his coat wrapped tightly around him with the collar up. He looked vaguely familiar.

I was fairly certain he wasn't one of the Black Sunners. If I'd had any doubts, they were erased when one of the scorpions behind us crossed the street, heading toward the third man.

When the hulking brute saw him, he spun on his heel and began walking back the way he'd come. The other scorpion joined the first, and as they drew closer, he broke into a run, and then all three men disappeared down the street. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Henry. "See? They had nothing to do with us."

After supper, our parents returned to their workroom, and Henry and I settled down to play naughts and crosses. Henry lost two games in a row, then became bored and went to fetch the custard tart he'd been saving for dessert. "Hey! What did you do with my tart?" he came back and asked.

"Nothing at all, Henry. Maybe you left it with your marbles?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny. Now hand it over."

"But I don't have it. Really. Besides, I don't even like custard tarts. I prefer lemon."

Henry stood with his hands on his hips, scowling at me. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"Suit yourself, but think about it. I've been right next to you the whole time. Here"—I held my arms out to my sides—"search my pockets if you want."

"It's no use looking in your pockets if you'll let me."

Clearly, I couldn't win. "Have it your way," I said. "I'm going to go do some more research." I didn't have time to deal with a case of the sulks. I had important things to get done.

Still put out over his losses, he merely grunted at me and picked up a book to read.

Luckily, the moon was nearly full, so there was plenty of moonlight filtering into the museum. The tricky part would be getting the tablet into the moonlight without my being seen by anyone else.

Glancing uneasily at the shadows against the ceiling, I gripped the two protective amulets around my neck and cautiously made my way to my small closet. Once there, I collected my oil lamp and slipped out of my shoes. One never knows what might be afoot, and it is better not to call attention to oneself if one can help it.

Many of the curses on the artifacts involved the dangerous dead and disgruntled spirits, the akhu and mut. If an artifact was cursed, either it called upon the power of the akhu or mut or it trapped them in the artifact itself. Once the power of the sun (Ra to the ancient Egyptians) left the sky, those disgruntled dead things came out to play. And trust me, their idea of play and my idea of play were wildly different.

As I hurried down the hallway, there was an ominous rustling up near the ceiling where the mut tended to gather in wait. As I passed, a large piece of shadow detached itself from the ceiling and began oozing after me. I knew better than to look at it and risk focusing my ka, or life energy, on it; that would act like a magnet.

I averted my gaze and broke into a run. I have also learned that if I run on my tiptoes, I make very little noise, although I can't keep it up for long.

I burst into the foyer, where moonlight spilled into the room from the large front windows. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the shadow would follow. Some of them avoided moonlight, while others were drawn to it like moths to a flame. It all depended on whether it was the manifestation of a curse or a true mut roaming free about the museum, not to mention which god the magician had invoked when he'd created the curse.

This one appeared to be hanging back, preferring the gaping blackness of the hallway to the silvery light of the foyer. Excellent. One obstacle out of the way, now only a dozen to go.

Next stop, the catacombs. And as much as I hated the museum at night, the catacombs were even worse.

I opened the door, wishing I'd thought to collect Isis before coming; turned up the gaslights; then made my way down the stairs. They creaked and groaned as if protesting my weight. When I reached the bottom, I shuddered violently as the sensation of a thousand bugs galloping along my spine racked through me. Not a good sign. That meant that the nearly full moon had awakened something. My eyes shot over to the statue of Anubis sitting on his shrine, the feeble light reflecting off his shiny black surface. He, at least, was still dormant.

But of course—the shrine held the Orb of Ra! It would offer me additional protection for this evening's activities.

I hurried over to the Canopic shrine, gave the statue of Anubis a friendly scratch between the ears, just in case, then bent down to open the door and retrieve the orb from its hiding place. "I'm not going to take it anywhere. I promise," I explained to the statue. "I'm just going to hold it for a bit, then bring it right back."

Feeling much more secure with the power of Ra clutched firmly in my left hand, I headed over to the wooden shield that was hiding the Emerald Tablet. The air swirled and eddied as I went, and I imagined a sense of disappointment as the akhu and mut gave way before the orb.

I had to let go of the amulets around my neck in order to pick up the tablet. Assuring myself that since I held the Orb of Ra in one hand, I'd be perfectly safe, I gripped the tablet and waited. Nothing. Good. I hurried back over to the shrine, where the light was better. After my conversation with Wigmere, I realized that if this was indeed in a dormant state, as the Staff of Osiris had been, then there should be a way to activate it.

I slipped the orb into my pinafore pocket and used both hands to examine the tablet, turning it over and over, looking for levers or keyholes or sections that might move. Nothing. It was one solid chunk of green stone.

Which tended to confirm Wigmere's theory that it wasn't terribly powerful or important, except to a few rabid occultists. All I had to do now was conduct a Moonlight Test, and then I could quit worrying about the tablet and get back to my other duties.

I hurried toward the stairs, then paused at the bottom step to whisper over my shoulder. "Honestly, I'll be right back," I assured Anubis, then I dashed up to the foyer, stopping long enough to make sure that my parents hadn't wandered down looking for me or that Flimp wasn't making his rounds. All was clear.

I made my way to a particularly bright puddle of moonlight, then angled the tablet so that it was fully illuminated. The dull green glowed brightly, and I blinked against it. Honestly, it was like a searchlight! Wait. I narrowed my eyes against the brightness and leaned in for a closer look. There! In the depths of the stone, something was moving, like minnows trapped under ice. They were symbols of some sort, but not any traditional Egyptian hieroglyphs that I recognized. And they were swimming about, but it didn't look as if they were trying to find a way out, as curses did. Nor did I have a buzzing or tingling sensation, as I did when a curse was trying to work its way out of an artifact into me. Most odd indeed. I squatted down and set the tablet on the floor, then patted my pinafore pocket and found a scrap of paper and a pencil. I wanted to copy a few of these symbols down so I could try to look them up later. I worked in silence for a few moments until I had nearly a dozen of the strange glyphs copied down. Just as I shoved the paper and pencil back into my pocket, something rubbed up against me. I grabbed the tablet and lurched to my feet, stifling the shriek that nearly erupted from my throat.

Isis.

Relief washed through me, and my racing heart began to slow. I reached down and gave her a pat. "There you are! And while I'm very happy to see you, please don't scare me so badly next time."

In answer, she butted my leg with her head, then looked up at me expectantly. I froze. The last time she'd done that was when an intruder broke into the museum. Was someone coming? I held perfectly still and strained to listen. The faint sound of whispering voices reached my ears. I glanced down at the glowing tablet I held in my hands. Where to hide it?

I looked frantically around the foyer. With all the jumbled crates and boxes, there were loads of good hiding places, but I couldn't risk someone moving the tablet before I got back to it. My eyes finally landed on the large flat basket filled with tiny, black grain-shaped rocks. It had been more than three days. The concoction should have removed the curse by now.

Using the flats of my hands, I swept all the little rocks to one side of the basket. There wasn't a smidgen of the honey-and-bread mixture left. I laid the Emerald Tablet on the bottom, then quickly swept the grain back in place until not a glimmer of green showed through. Even better, the basket was part of the exhibit itself, so no one would cart it off to the rubbish bin tomorrow.

With the tablet safely hidden, I paused to listen once more. Nothing. I began to move away, hugging the wall and flattening myself against it so I'd be as invisible as possible. Isis wound herself around my ankles and waited.

Slowly, I inched my head out of the foyer doorway so I could peer around the corner, nearly screaming as a disembodied white head with wild, beady eyes seemed to float my way. After my initial shock, sheer exasperation propelled me around the corner. "You!" I said.