R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

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,” he said at last.

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.”

I shook my head and couldn’t seem to stop shaking it. “No,” I said, backing away. “No! No! No! You’ve got it all wrong! What about you? You all specialize in artifacts infested with black magic. Maybe you’ve all gone bad and are just trying to trick me!”

There they went, exchanging those glances again. “Stop that!” I fairly shouted.

Stokes spoke this time, his voice gentle, as if he were trying to calm a horse. “We wear protection. At all times. It’s ingrained into our very skin. And we take… precautions several times a month.”

“Let me see this ingrained protection,” I demanded. It sounded like a cock and bull story to me.

“May I, sir?”

Wigmere nodded his head. “Yes. Of course. Show her.”

Moving carefully, as if it hurt his wound, he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. I gasped. Sitting just below the base of his throat was a wedjat eye. I leaned in for a closer look. “What did you use to draw it with?”