Theodosia - The Serpents of Chaos by R. L. LaFevers
Immediately people began slapping at their faces and necks as if they were being stung by insects. A low murmur rose up as people broke off their conversations and began looking around.
Will used the opportunity to get right behind von Braggenschnott. All the Germans had ignored the stinging shot and were looking into the sky, eyes alert, trying to find the source of the attack. No shrugging it off for them.
As they stared up toward the stack of containers where Henry lay hidden, Will lifted the coattails of von Braggenschnott’s morning coat.
I held my breath.
Will’s fingers slipped into the German’s back pocket—and came out empty.
I nearly fainted as a thought occurred to me: What if he wasn’t carrying the Heart of Egypt on him? What if he’d hidden it somewhere in his luggage? What then?
It was a horrible revelation. Was this the right thing to do? Were we putting Will in too much danger?
I gave myself a mental shake. It was too late for second thoughts now. We’d just have to brazen it out.
Will pulled back from von Braggenschnott and waited for the next distraction. I turned to Henry, who sat leaning against a container, well hidden from the crowd. He was watching me and awaiting further signals.
Very carefully, I bent down and gave him the next signal—I adjusted my left shoe.
When I stood up again, he nodded. Time for the thunderbolts.
Within seconds, small whirligigging objects came zooming over the crowd. I knew they were just paper twists weighted with pebbles, but they certainly surprised the people below. Startled and confused, people cried out and ducked for cover.
Will stepped toward von Braggenschnott. But alas! Instead of moving away from the disturbance like everybody else, the man turned toward the commotion and slammed smack into Will, who clutched at the German’s coat to try to keep his balance. The vile man shouted something, then backhanded Will across the face.
Will staggered backward and von Braggenschnott and his men drew guns—real live guns—and began shooting at the silly thunderbolts!
Mass confusion and pandemonium erupted as everyone hit the ground to avoid having their head shot off.
Henry leaped to his feet to go to Will’s aid. Frantically, I motioned him back to his hiding place. If they discovered that Henry was behind all this, who knew what they’d do to him? Shoot him, that’s what.
Von Braggenschnott motioned at two of his men to head in the direction of the thunderbolts.
I motioned to Henry like mad, trying to get his attention. Finally, he looked over at me and got the idea. He scuttled away, weaving a crooked path between the cargo containers, and disappeared out of sight.
This wasn’t going at all how we’d planned. Who would have guessed that von Braggenschnott and his men would be so horrid about a little thing like cracking thunderbolts?
I looked back and saw Will struggle to his feet, blood pouring from his nose. He wiped his hand across his face and spotted the blood. His expression grew furious and he drew back his leg as if he were going to kick von Braggenschnott. But if Will did that then von Braggenschnott would take him apart limb by limb. Apparently Will stumbled onto the same idea, for he backed off a bit, then sauntered away. Sauntered, mind you—I would have torn out of there like all the furies of hell were behind me!
Henry reached me first. “Did he get it?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see.”
“Did you see that Bragging Snot beast take a swing at him?”
“Yes, I did. His nose is bleeding buckets, too.”
“Vermin.”
We heard a shuffling sound off to the right. Will appeared, blood streaked across his face, and a black eye already beginning to form, but he was grinning from ear to ear. “Blimey! Did you see that Bogeyfellow take a swipe at me?” He sounded highly indignant, but proud, too.
“I certainly did. The rotter.” I discovered I couldn’t bring myself to ask if he’d got the Heart of Egypt. If he failed, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know quite yet. The fact that Will was smiling was promising, but he was a boy. He could just as easily be smiling at the adventure of it all.
Henry, however, had no such reservations. “So, did you get it?”
Will smiled so wide, I was afraid his face was going to split in half like an overripe squash.
He patted his front trouser pocket. “That I did!”
I went weak with relief. I closed my eyes and slumped against the wall behind me. “Oh, well done, Will! Very well done!”
His cheeks grew red and he shuffled his feet on the ground. “Oh, ‘twer nothin’ miss. Really.”
“Nonsense! That foul man struck you! You could have—”
“Give off,” he mumbled, clearly not wanting to talk about this.
Henry piped up. “That was bloody brilliant!”
Will’s head jerked up and he and Henry exchanged devilish grins.
“May I have it now?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“‘Course.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a velvet pouch, and placed it in my hand.
I shuddered as the force of the curse hit me.
“You all right, miss?” Will asked, concern in his voice.
“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s go home, shall we?” As we made our way home, a swell of pride surged through me.
We’d done it.
A Triumph Sours
THE REST OF THE DAY, Henry and I basked in the glow of our smashing success. It was a heady feeling. Whenever Henry caught my eye, he would break into a grin. I should have scolded him for being too obvious, except I was too busy grinning back.
There was one sticky moment when I told him he couldn’t come with me to return the Heart of Egypt to Wigmere. But when I explained it was his job to keep Mother and Father from discovering I was gone, he was a little more cooperative.
And of course I felt ever so guilty having the Heart of Egypt right under my parents’ nose and not being able to tell them. How furious they’d be if they knew! They’d most likely ship me off to some horribly grim school for the next five years. (I tried to tell myself I was only saving them the pain of losing it twice, but it wasn’t helping much.)
I set off bright and early the next day and headed to Somerset House and the Society of Antiquaries. It was pouring rain and the wind was howling as if every disembodied spirit on earth had decided to join in. It was eerie, but I was confident. I patted the pocket of the old waterproof I was wearing. I had the means of saving our entire nation safely tucked in my pocket.
Because of the nasty weather, there were very few people about. It was a long walk, but satisfaction at having retrieved the Heart of Egypt gave me a rather lot of cheerful energy.
At Somerset House, I marched with confidence up the stairs to the third floor. The doorman must have sensed my resolve because he only threw me a quick glance and didn’t try to stop me. Perhaps he recognized me.
After my last visit, I intended to avoid Boythorpe at all costs. I kept my steps light and walked straight past his door, hoping he wouldn’t pop his annoying little head out to see what was going on.
Once safely past his office, I went to Wigmere’s, sixth door down on the left. I looked to make sure no one else was in the hallway. The place seemed quite deserted.
I knocked. There was no answer. I knocked again. Still nothing. Well, stuff and nonsense. How was I to return the beastly artifact if Wigmere didn’t have the decency to be here?
I stood there for a moment, thoroughly stumped. But then I remembered: the lift! I headed down the hallway and found the last door on the right, the skinny little one that looked like a closet. I stepped in, then shut the door behind me.
The attendant was surprised to see me. “What are you doing here, miss? All by yourself?”
“I need to see Lord Wigmere and he isn’t in his office. Is he on Level Six?”
The man hesitated, studying me with suspicion.
“It’s all right! I’m allowed down t
“Very well, but if there’s hell to pay, you’ll do the paying.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
I was a little more prepared this time when my stomach tried to shoot out of the top of my head, but not much.
When the lift stopped, the attendant opened the door. Before he could get any ideas about escorting me, I stepped out and waved a quick goodbye, then hurried into Level Six.
Only to find that the place was deserted. All of the desks were empty, all of the offices abandoned, piles of paper left helter-skelter. Where was everyone?
Feeling unsure, I headed to the infirmary where Stokes had been. Surely he was still too sick to move?
As I drew close to the small room, I heard voices. With relief, I recognized one of them as Wigmere’s.
When I knocked, the voices stopped abruptly, then Wigmere’s bulk filled the doorway, looking large and puffed up, like a cat when it’s trying to scare you.
His face relaxed when he saw it was only me. “Theodosia?” His gaze moved past me to the floor, then all the way back to the lift.
When I turned to follow his gaze, I saw a long puddling trail behind me from the water running off my waterproof. “Sorry about that. I’ll clean it up later, if you like.”
“Never mind,” he said. “Come in and let’s get you out of your wet things. Then you can tell me what you’re doing here.” I can’t say he sounded particularly happy to see me.
Wigmere stepped back and motioned me into the room. Stokes was sitting up in bed, and a table had been set up next to him, on which there was a large map spread out with lots of little pins stuck in it.
There were a few moments of fumbling as I wriggled out of my waterproof and Wigmere found someplace to hang it. “So,” he said at last. “Only something of great importance could bring you out in this sort of weather. I trust something has happened?”
“No,” I began.
His face drooped.
“Something even better than that,” I continued before he could get too discouraged.
He perked up again and I must say I quite enjoyed being the one to bring that look to such a long face. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the carefully wrapped bundle. “Here.”
He looked from the bundle to my face, then back to the bundle again. “What is this?”
“Open it and you shall see.” I was nearly dancing in anticipation. He would be so pleased!
Wigmere took the bundle out of my hand and unwrapped it. Once he had lifted the last of the wrapping away, he turned the velvet pouch upside down.
“Upon my soul!” he gasped. The Heart of Egypt sat in his palm, winking and blinking and glittering in all its malevolent brilliance. “How on earth did you get hold of this?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
His mustache twitched. “I think I’m up to it. Come, have a seat and tell us your tale.”
I made myself comfortable in one of the extra chairs and relayed my story. It was gratifying to have Wigmere’s and Stokes’s full attention. They were full of “I says!” and “Good Lords!” The whole time I talked, Wigmere kept turning the Heart of Egypt over and over in his hands.
When I’d finished, Wigmere looked at me, his face deceptively bland. “And just how much did you tell your brother and his friend?”
“Nothing!” I hurried to assure him. “Remember, they knew some of it before we even met you. I just built on that.”
His face relaxed. “You do understand how dangerous it was to tackle those men by yourselves, don’t you? You or one of your friends could have been injured, or killed. Or worse.”
I looked at him in surprise. “What could be worse than being killed?”
He and Stokes exchanged a glance. “Being tortured,” Stokes said softly. “To give over secrets, betray your mates or this organization. That type of thing.”
My mind immediately flew to the iron maiden and the rack we had in the Inquisition collection at the museum. I gulped.
“Exactly,” said Wigmere.
He handed the Heart of Egypt to Stokes, who took a turn admiring it. Then the two men exchanged one of those silent looks that are full of meaning.
Wigmere took the artifact back and ran his finger over it one more time before he looked up at me. “Do your parents know you’ve found this?”
I shook my head. “I saw no point in telling them since they would just have to give it up again. Besides, then I’d have to explain all about you, and I know you didn’t want me to do that.”
“Excellent. So only the three of you children know?”
I nodded.
“I’m afraid, Theodosia, I’m going to have to ask you to perform yet another service for your country,” Wigmere said gravely.
Feeling very confident, I said, “I’d be happy to.” After all, we’d just retrieved the most important artifact Britain had ever discovered. Surely we were up to whatever task Wigmere chose to ask of us.
Much to my shock, he handed the Heart of Egypt back to me.
“I need you to take this back to its rightful resting place.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I need you to return this to Egypt for us. There’s no one here to do it. We’ve sent every one of our operatives to Germany in pursuit of von Braggenschnott. We thought he had the Heart of Egypt. It will take us weeks to get messages to them without breaking their cover.”
Well, that certainly explained the deserted offices. But still. “What about one of you?” I asked, looking from Stokes to Wigmere and back again.
There was a moment of silence, then Wigmere spoke. “My dear girl, you can’t expect Stokes here to go. Not with a twelve-inch gash in his ribs. He can barely sit up for longer than an hour.”
“Well, then. What about you?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished them back. A pained expression crossed Wigmere’s face and he gave a bark of laughter, the kind with nothing funny about it. “My dear, if only I could!” He motioned to his leg. “Don’t you think I’d love to travel to Egypt? To have the honor of returning one of their most precious artifacts to its rightful resting place?” He sniffed loudly and stiffened his spine. “But I can barely get down here without a lift, and they don’t have those in Thutmoses’s tomb, let me tell you. As much as it pains me to say so, I’m simply not up to the journey.”
I squirmed uncomfortably at his words. “B-but how am I to get there?” I asked.
“Using boats and trains,” Stokes said. “Like everyone else.”
“Yes, but I just can’t waltz up to a boat and say, take me, an eleven-year-old girl, to Egypt!”
“No, of course not. You’ll need to convince your parents to go and take you along.”
“But Mum just got back!”
Lord Wigmere scooted his chair closer to me so that we were eye to eye. “I know this is a lot to ask. But you are extraordinary, Theodosia, with enormous personal resources. You’ve got to do it. For Britain.”
I was still reeling at the impact of what he was saying. “But I’m not sure they’ll be willing to give it up. Not if they know I’ve found it.”
“Well, there’s the rub. You still can’t tell them you’ve found it.”
“What? You expect me to talk my parents into going back to Egypt—and taking me with them—without telling them why?”
“And you mustn’t mention us,” Stokes added.
“Have you lost your buttons?” I said, leaping to my feet. “Of course I’ll need to tell them about you. Why else would they be willing to go?”
“You’ll have to think of another reason,” Wigmere said, exchanging another one of those meaningful glances with Stokes.
I took a step toward them. “Why do you two keep looking at each other like that?”
Wigmere cleared his throat. “It’s more important than ever that you don’t tell your mother about returning the Heart of Egypt,??
I narrowed my eyes. “Why? Why is it so important to keep it from her?”
Wigmere shifted a bit in his seat. “Well, it’s hard to explain…” His words trailed off, as if he had no intention of trying to explain something that difficult.
“Give it a go,” I urged.
“Sometimes, when people work around … vile things … sometimes the effect of those things can … wear off on them.”
I cannot tell you how much I did not like the sound of this.
“Egyptian funerary and black magic are very—corrosive. They can eat away at a person’s good side, until there isn’t much of it left.”
I froze in place, my hands fisted at my sides. “What exactly are you trying to say?”
He started to look over at Stokes again. “Don’t even think of exchanging another one of those horrid glances with him. You look at me and tell me what is going on. This instant.” I was breathing hard and my face was hot. It felt like if I dared to look away from Wigmere, my whole world would crumble.
Wigmere’s voice was gentle when he spoke. “We’ve conducted an inquiry, Theodosia. We believe that the theft of the Heart of Egypt was an inside job. We’re afraid your mother might have had something to do with it.”
A great, yawning silence appeared in the room, black and dreadful. I was afraid it would swallow me up whole.
Wigmere rushed to continue. “It’s not her doing, of course. It’s the black magic she’s been exposed to for enormous portions of her adult life. Think, Theodosia. She’s in the pyramids, month after month, exposed to the artifacts in their most pure, undisturbed state for large portions of time. She can’t help but be affected. It’s like leaving a pudding out in the rain. Eventually the rain will dissolve the pudding and leave pits and fissures in it. We think that’s what’s happened to your mother.”