Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris

  "Except for the part about needing your permission and forcing me to come here, yes."

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  Trawley narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Then let's quit wasting your precious time and get on with it, shall we? This way, please."

  He stepped aside and motioned me toward an altar at the front of the room. I was so busy staring at the altar (and worrying about what he had planned) that I walked right into a bronze bowl that had been placed on the floor. With a resounding clang, I sent it skidding forward, the water inside splashing everywhere. "Oh. Sorry about that."

  Trawley closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them again, he had a look of forced cheerfulness. "Someone get more water. Fell, you get the oil. Theodosia, would you please lie down over here." He indicated a row of four bricks on the floor spaced at even intervals. Four very hard and sharp-edged bricks, I might add.

  "Face-up or face-down?" I asked.

  "Face-down, if you please."

  Gerton righted the bronze bowl in front of the first brick, and as Whiting filled it with fresh water, it became clear to me what Trawley expected. He wanted me to act as a medium so he could communicate with an Egyptian deity. What rot! This was late Egyptian magic and mostly showmanship. Surely he knew that much? But one look at his eager, shining face told me that he did not know that much.

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  Not at all. Resigned, I comforted myself that it was a very small, harmless bit of pseudomagic. His request could have been much, much worse.

  Whiting picked up a smaller vessel and poured a thin film of oil on top of the water. With a sigh, I eased myself down onto the bricks. Luckily, they were rather large bricks. I rested my chin on the first one so I could see into the bowl, with the other three jabbing into my body at uncomfortable intervals. "Let's make this quick," I said, trying to get situated.

  "As you wish. Silbert! Light the incense. Gerton, light the lamp."

  Within seconds a thick, smoky-sweet, cloying scent filled the room, and I tried not to cough. In order to distract myself, I studied the bowl. The warm yellow light cast off by the oil lamp to my right illuminated the symbols of Anubis engraved upon its bronze surface.

  Trawley began to chant. "Anubis, we call upon your power and strength. Open this child's eyes to your wisdom."

  As Trawley repeated his chant, I let my eyes go out of focus. Egyptians weren't the only ones good at showmanship-- I could play-act with the best of them. And the sooner this was over, the sooner I could get home and figure out what on earth Chaos intended to do with the wretched staff. The

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  number seven hundred kept playing in my mind, seeming significant somehow. And they had mentioned sailing with the tide, which indicated a ship of some sort. Which made their new headquarters down by the docks make much more sense.

  The light glowed off the film of oil, and the incense made me feel both dizzy and nauseated. I wondered what it would take to convince Trawley I'd had a vision. As my unfocused eyes stared at the bowl, the surface shimmered slightly. Sail with the tide. Seven hundred. Sail with the tide. Seven hundred. The words ran through my head and mixed with Trawley's chant.

  My eyes grew dry, so I blinked. When I opened them again, a picture of the Dreadnought flashed in front of me and the penny dropped. "Of course!"

  "She's seen!" Trawley called out, bringing my attention back to the chamber around me.

  Quiet voices rose in murmured excitement. Bother! Now Trawley thought I'd had his idiotic vision. He knelt down next to me and tried to peer into the bowl. "What did you see?"

  I had seen the Dreadnought and finally understood that Chaos was going to try and kidnap Her Majesty's Royal Navy's crown jewel. Which made perfect sense, as they loved

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  to stir the pot between Germany and Britain, trying to provoke them into pandemonium and anarchy.

  But that wasn't the answer Trawley was looking for. Instead, I made my voice toneless and flat and began speaking. "The Black Sun shall rise up in a red sky before falling to earth, where a great serpent will swallow it."

  A quick glance at Trawley's face told me he didn't like that one bit. I rushed to add, "Then the serpent's stomach will burst open, and lots of tiny snakes will wriggle forth and disappear into the ground."

  There. That was the best I could do. It's a lot harder to sound prophetic than one might think.

  I snuck a look at Trawley's face. He was frowning but seemed lost in thought. I blinked my eyes rapidly, then began to stretch and wriggle a bit, trying to remind him I wanted up from these wretchedly uncomfortable bricks.

  Trawley nodded at two of the scorpions, who leaped forward and helped me to my feet. As I brushed the dust off the front of my frock, I wondered what was to happen next.

  Trawley seemed to finally realize that we were all waiting for him to respond or give orders or do something besides stare stupidly at the wall in front of him. He waved his hand in the air. "I must meditate on what this prophecy truly foretells. You are dismissed."

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  ***

  I climbed into the carriage and sat as far away from Stilton as I could, then folded my arms across my chest and stared pointedly out the window.

  We rode in awkward silence for a while before he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Miss Theodosia. I didn't have any choice. Really."

  I kept my eyes glued to the window.

  "You don't understand. I'm not that high up in the organization. I don't have very much pull. What little I do have is due to you."

  I turned away from the window and frowned at him.

  "Because I discovered you, you see. And your powers. That's given me a bit of status with Trawley and the others, but even with that, they don't listen much to what I say. He ... he seemed very taken with his vision."

  "I trusted you!"

  "But there was no harm done! You gave him his magical favor, and now he's quite happy and understands your power."

  I shook my head. "Stilton--"

  "Please don't be angry, Miss Theo! Please!"

  It was quite disconcerting to have a grownup plead with me. Felt very wrong somehow. I supposed it wouldn't hurt

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  to relent. At least a little. "Very well. By the way, what can you tell me about high tide? When is it, for example?"

  He looked quite confused. "High tide? Is that something else you saw in your vision? Something you didn't tell Trawley?"

  "No! I was just wondering, that's all."

  "Well, normally spring tides are the highest, and this spring they're even higher with all the recent flooding and snowmelt."

  "Yes, but what time of day do they occur?"

  "I'm not sure I know that."

  I scooted forward on my seat. "Stilton. It's absolutely essential that I know when high tide will be tomorrow. Can you find the information and bring it with you when you come to work in the morning?"

  He blinked at me, looking shy. "Does that mean you're no longer angry at me?"

  "Yes, yes. Of course. Now, can you do it?"

  "For you, Miss Theo, yes."

  ***

  When Stilton dropped me off at the museum, I pretended to go inside, but in truth, I hid just behind the door, hoping Will and Snuffles would be along shortly.

  Sure enough, before very long I heard the soft slap of

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  running feet accompanied by a loud, wet sniffle. I stepped out of my hiding place so they could see me, then waited for them to catch their breath.

  "Wot did them blokes want wi' you?" Will asked as he took in huge gulps of air.

  "Oh, just a bit of idiocy, really. But I don't have time to explain. I've finally discovered what Chaos is planning!"

  "Oy! Wot is it, then?"

  "Chaos is planning to use the staff to kill the crew of the Dreadnought. Then once they're dead, Chaos will use the staff to bring them back to life. Since the staff has power over reanimated dead, Chaos can use them to kidnap the ship."

  "Blimey!" r />
  "Exactly. I need you to get word to Wigmere right away."

  Will looked at me oddly. "I'm not sure 'e's still at Somerset 'ouse this late, miss. 'E don't sleep there, you know."

  Oh. Of course he didn't. "Maybe he's working late, or perhaps you can find out where he lives, then? And as soon as you've found him, tell him exactly what I've told you, got it?

  "Will do, miss. Anyfink else?"

  "No, I think that's quite enough for one night's work, don't you?"

  ***

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  It was so late by this time that I didn't dare go check on Mother. I was counting on her being far too distracted by Father's arrest to have noticed I had been gone.

  It was horrid, though, as I was rather desperate to hear an update on poor Father. The thought of him sitting in a cold, dark jail cell with all sorts of despicable criminals and brutes felt as if I'd swallowed a knife. Sideways.

  I needed to come up with a plan. One that would stop Chaos from stealing the Dreadnought, keep Will safe from the Grim Nipper, and rescue Father from jail.

  It needed to be a corker.

  As I padded down the corridor to my closet, Isis trailed behind me like a wisp of smoke. Surely Wigmere would know what to do.

  Except that the last time we were faced with something of this magnitude, I had ended up having to deal with it alone. In a foreign country.

  But if this involved the lives and safety of seven hundred British sailors, Wigmere would have to step in and use his power and influence to the utmost.

  The good news was that Miss Sharpe's festering boils would likely keep her away for at least one more day, which would leave me free to do all I needed to get done.

  Just then, Isis stopped following me and looked back the

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  way we'd come, her back arched and all her hair standing on end.

  "What?" I peered back into the darkness. There! I heard a ... sniffing sound. And the faint click of nails on the marble floor. A dark black shape detached itself from the rest of the shadows and stood in the mouth of the hallway.

  "Anubis," I whispered. It had taken me a moment to recognize the living statue that had burst out of our front window only the day before. But now he was back. The question was, why?

  "Don't make any sudden moves," I warned Isis, keeping my voice low so as not to startle the jackal. Isis flattened herself against the wall. I hoped Anubis wouldn't see her and take up chase. There was nowhere for any of us to go.

  The jackal lowered his head and advanced slowly down the hallway toward us.

  Keeping my eyes locked on Anubis, I began to back down the hall. I'd nearly made it to the main corridor when Isis slinked out from behind my ankles and disappeared into the shadows. I braced myself, expecting Anubis to have seen her, but he kept prowling toward me, a low growl in his throat.

  I glanced to the right and then to the left, but there was no safe place. No office I could take refuge in, no closet I could slip into. Just the open foyer on one side and the long

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  corridor on the other. Both would allow the jackal to overtake me in a matter of seconds.

  My hand crept up to the neck of my gown and fumbled for the amulets there. I gripped them hard and faced Anubis. "There's a good dog--er, jackal," I said. "Nothing to be angry about. You chased the silly cat away. You showed her what's what."

  "Grrrrr," was his only response. A bit of saliva dripped from his teeth. He was within launching distance now--one good leap and he'd be at my throat. Except he didn't leap. He tilted his head to the side and stared at me. The growl disappeared.

  Heartened by this, I stood up a little straighter. "That's right. You and I should be friends, actually. I--eek!"

  Anubis rose up on his hind legs, planted his paws on my shoulders, then began licking my neck. Well, no. Not my neck. My amulets! I glanced down around his muzzle, past his tongue, and saw that he was licking the Blood of Isis amulet. Of course! Anubis and Isis were great friends!

  Remembering how fond my cat was of being scratched behind the ears, I reached out and tried it on the jackal. He stopped licking and angled his head under my hand for better coverage. Being a statue for decades, he no doubt acquired a number of itches that needed a good scratching.

  As I worked my fingertips through the coarse, straight

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  hair that reminded me of brush bristles, a low, contented growl escaped from his throat. I ended up giving him quite a long scratch because I didn't know what he'd do once I stopped.

  Finally, when my hand got tired, he opened his eyes, shook himself, then turned away from me. He put his muzzle to the ground and continued sniffing along the floor of the museum, as he'd been doing before he had spotted me.

  Puzzled, I decided to follow him for a bit to see what he was up to.

  Sounding a bit like the new Hoover that our maid used to sweep the carpet, the jackal moved along the corridor. After a few moments of this, his ears perked up and he became more animated. He sniffed twice more, then made a mad dash for the door that led to the catacombs. He practically shoved his nose under it, sniffing like a crazed thing and scrabbling with his claws.

  "You want to go into the catacombs, do you?" I said, coming up behind him. He sat down and peered intensely at the knob, as if expecting me to open it.

  "Well, I suppose you don't have anything to fear down there, do you?" I opened the door and he exploded down the steps like a shot, clattering the whole way.

  What was he exactly, anyway? I wondered as I followed

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  more slowly. He couldn't actually be the god Anubis, could he? Perhaps he was a bau, a spirit manifestation, sent by Anubis to do his bidding on earth.

  Whatever he was, by the time I reached the bottom step, he was pawing frantically at the wall where the mummies were leaning. Oh dear. It was where I had placed the staff. Where the jackal had last seen it before it had been stolen.

  Which meant he must have been a guardian figure sent to protect it. Excellent! I could use a little help. Although how to best utilize his jackal skills was a bit of a puzzle.

  After having sniffed every square inch of the floor in front of the wall, he returned to me, sat on his haunches, and whined in a mournful tone. I should have been more frightened of him, but he had a bit of cobweb stuck to his muzzle and it made him much more like a dog and less like a jackal.

  I went to a shelf and grabbed the Canopic jar that had held the Orb of Ra. "Here," I said, shoving the jar toward his nose. "Is this what you're looking for?"

  The jackal took a few quick, loud sniffs, then sat back down with his tail wagging back and forth.

  "It's gone missing," I said. "Someone stole the staff, if that's what you're looking for." His ears perked up. "I bet you could track it, couldn't you? After all, that's what the hounds do on the hunt, and I know you're more clever and

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  cunning than a mere hound." His long tail whipped back and forth, narrowly missing an Old Kingdom stele. But how does one explain the concept of docks to a jackal? How could I get him to understand where I wanted him to go?

  And then it hit me! "I'll be right back," I said, then galloped up the stairs to the coat rack in the hall. It was still there! I grabbed my hat, the one the sailor had fished out of the water for me when we had toured the Dreadnought. I turned to go back down the stairs, but the jackal sat right behind me, waiting, and I nearly tripped over him. "Well, like I told you, the staff has been stolen. But I can give you a clue as to where you'll find it. It's down by the docks. Here." I thrust the ruined hat at him. "The docks smell like this."

  His nostrils went into overdrive as they sniffed up every fiber of the hat. He was so thorough, I was half afraid he'd inhale the thing. When he was done, he looked up and met my gaze, keen intelligence shining in those dark eyes of his. "Good boy," I said. "Now, fetch."

  He gave one quick, sharp bark, then exploded off his haunches and out into the night.

  I was
heartily sick of having to wait for everyone else to bring me information or take a message for me. Even that wretched jackal had more freedom than I did.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT SNUFFLING ALONE

  ***

  THE NEXT MORNING I WAS AWAKENED by a knock on my closet door. "Who is it?" I called. I stretched and rubbed my eyes. "It's me, Theo."

  "Oh, Mum!" Awake now, I hopped out of the sarcophagus as Mum came in. "Any word from Father?" I asked.

  "No." She said it briskly, as if it didn't worry her one bit, but the dark circles under her eyes gave her away. "I have, however, heard from Miss Sharpe. She sent a note around saying she was unwell and unable to come today." Mother's gaze sharpened slightly. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

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  "No! Well, only that she left early yesterday because she was feeling ill. You can check with Stilton if you like. He was there at the time."

  "No, no, that's fine. But I must warn you, Theo--I have much on my mind and am horribly busy this morning. I have a hundred things to do. You'll have to take care of yourself today without Miss Sharpe here."

  A huge bubble of frustration rose up inside me. Didn't I do exactly that every single day? "Of course, Mother." Still hungry for information, I pressed on. "Who else have you heard from?"

  Mother bent over, picked up my pinafore from the floor, and began smoothing it out. "The Royal Archaeological Society, for one. It seems I will not be joining their ranks at this time."

  "Oh, Mother! I'm so sorry. Is it because of the mummies?"

  "They say not." She hung my pinafore on a peg. "However, that's the least of our worries, I would think."