R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

“It’s not drawn on. It’s a tattoo. It won’t ever come off.”

I studied the symbol. It made perfect sense. The base of the throat is very vulnerable to evil magic. That’s why the ancient Egyptians wore their amulets around their necks.

As Stokes buttoned his collar, Wigmere leaned forward, as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Does your mother wear protection, Theodosia? Or your father, for that matter?”

“No,” I said, miserable. “I’ve tried and tried to get them to. I’ve even made them amulets, hoping that they’d wear them just to humor me, but they don’t.” I stiffened my spine. “But that still doesn’t mean they’ve gone bad!” How could the only adult I’d found that I could trust be so completely and utterly wrong?

“Perhaps,” Wigmere conceded. He didn’t look convinced. “But it’s a chance we can’t take. Surely you can see that.”

“I can see nothing of the kind,” I spat. I stared out at the deserted room with all the empty desks and chaotic papers. How dare he suggest such a thing about Mother? I don’t care if it was his job to protect all of Britain; there was no reason to cast Mum’s reputation in such an ugly light. How could I convince them? How could I make them see how very wrong they were?

But of course — Fagenbush! If it was an inside job, it had to be him. He had been acting strangely since the moment the statue of Bastet arrived, sneaking around in the middle of the night, spying on me when he thought I had it. He had to be the inside man!

Feeling very smug, I turned to Wigmere. “You’ve got it all wrong. Yes, there is a mole, but it’s not my mother. It’s the Second Assistant Curator, Clive Fagenbush,” I announced, feeling triumphant.

Wigmere shook his head sadly. “No, it’s not Fagenbush. We’ve checked him out thoroughly. He’s not the one.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“We have our ways,” Stokes said mysteriously.

“Well, your ways are wrong. Fagenbush is up to something. I’ve known that for weeks.”

“Maybe so,” conceded Wigmere. “But he’s had nothing to do with the Heart of Egypt.”

I folded my arms and glared at him. “Very well, then. Let’s say my mother is in on this whole thing. Why on earth would she take me with her back to Egypt then? Surely she’d guess that something was up? If she’s in on it and all.”

“Well, I must say, I haven’t much hope that your parents will do it. But it’s our best shot. If she won’t take you back, then I’ll just have to go and hope that I don’t botch it too badly.”

“So if my mother does take me to Egypt, that will prove she’s innocent, right? Then you’ll realize what a stupid, idiotic theory you’ve cooked up?”

Wigmere fingered his mustache. “It will go a long way in her favor, I will say that,” he finally conceded.

“Very well, then. We will be leaving for Egypt. Within a fortnight, no less. And you can bet your wedjat eye my mother had nothing, nothing to do with any of this.” My whole body shook with outrage.

Wigmere took a step toward me, his face creased in worry. “I’m sorry to have upset you, my dear. But it’s what we do here. It’s why there’s a Brotherhood — to ferret out exactly this sort of thing.”

“I don’t know, sir,” Stokes said. “Maybe it’s asking too much.”

Wigmere studied me. “Is it too much to ask, Theodosia? If the burden is too great, we’ll certainly understand.”

Too disgusted to answer, I snatched the Heart of Egypt off the table, grabbed my waterproof from the back of the chair, and ran out the door.

I was so angry my footsteps nearly cracked the pavement as I strode home. I ignored the cold rain as it fell in fat little drops that practically sizzled when they touched me.

But my steps slowed as my mind began whirring. Mother did know von Braggenschnott. She’d even said he helped her get the Heart of Egypt out of the country.

Which proved nothing! Only that he wanted a British citizen to bring the curses back to British soil.

Even so, Mother hadn’t seemed very concerned when I’d pointed out the man following her at the station. That was nothing new, though — grownups never listen to a word I say. Just remembering the look on her face when she discovered the Heart of Egypt was missing should erase all doubts.

However, she always had been a wonderful actress. It was one of the ways she managed Father so well… In horror, I realized that Wigmere had got to me. Even I was beginning to suspect my own mother!

WHEN I RETURNED TO THE MUSEUM, the first thing I did was search out Fagenbush. It was high time we had a talk. I marched straight down to Receiving, certain he’d be sniffing around the newest artifacts.

Nigel and Stilton stopped what they were doing and stared at me.

“Is something wrong, Theodosia?” Nigel asked after an awkward pause.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and tried to look casual. “I was just looking for Fagenbush. Have you seen him?”

“H-he was h-here just a moment ago,” Stilton said, his left eye twitching the whole time. “I think he went down to the reading room.”

“Thank you. I’ll look for him there.” Before either of them could say another word, I hurried back up the stairs.

And ran smack into Fagenbush.

The weasel had been lurking at the top of the stairway! He stepped out of the shadows as I reached the top stair, startling me so badly I nearly lost my balance. If he hadn’t reached out and grabbed my shoulders, I would have tumbled back down the stairs.

He leaned toward me. “What did you do to it?” he asked. The stench of pickled onions made my nostrils quiver, as if they were looking for escape.

I jerked away from his grip, freeing my shoulders. “To what?” I was supposed to be grilling him , not the other way around.

“What did you do to the Bastet statue?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you ruined it. You did something to it and it’s not… the same.”

So he had known about the curse! And had been planning to use it for his own evil ends. I was right. There was a mole in our museum, and it wasn’t Mother!

The best defense is a good offense, or that’s what Father says when he’s getting ready to face the museum’s board of directors. I squared my shoulders. “And what did you do with the Heart of Egypt?” I asked.

A puzzled look came over his horrid face. “What are you talking about?”

Suddenly I realized I had no idea whether or not Mother and Father had told the other curators the Heart of Egypt was even missing. Maybe that part was still a secret. Well, time to bluff it out. “You know exactly what I mean.”

He shoved his face right in front of mine. “What do you think I did with it?”

We stood there nose to nose, fists clenched, neither one of us willing to budge an inch.

A voice from the stairway made us both jump. “I say, you two. What’s going on now?” Nigel had just come up the stairs and was staring at us as if we’d just been let out of the zoo.

Fagenbush’s eyes slid over to Nigel, then back to me. “Theodosia and I were just discussing some of the newest artifacts, that’s all.”

“Really? Then why do you look like you’re ready to come to blows?” Nigel asked.

Fagenbush blinked, then began to stutter.

Oh, honestly. He was going to get us both in trouble. “We just had a disagreement over provenance,” I explained.

Fagenbush whipped his head around to look at me.