R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

MOTHER AND FATHER NEVER FOUND OUT about the close call at the pyramid. Nabir is almost as good at keeping secrets as I am.

We were up at the crack of dawn the next day so we could hustle off to catch another beastly train. Imagine spending twenty hours in a hot, dusty oven being bounced like a rubber ball and you’ll get the idea.

We arrived in Thebes in the dead of night. Even so, we were immediately greeted by a local official. At first I thought this was a sign of respect for my parents’ position. Then, as my parents became distressed at the official’s rapid Arabic, I realized it was something else altogether.

Father could stand it no longer. “Confound it!” he shouted. “When did this happen?”

Following my father’s lead, the official switched to English. “Two days ago, most kind sir.”

I snuck up close, trying to hear what was being said.

Father ran his hands through his hair. “It’s that blasted Snowthorpe, I know it.”

Mum put her hand out to try to calm him. “Alistair, I truly doubt he would have gone so far as to burn our lodgings down around our ears. It could have been an accident. Fires are not unheard of in this part of the country, you know.”

But of course, Father had the right of it. Mostly. There was no doubt in my mind that it hadn’t been an accident. But it was von Braggenschnott and that traitor Tetley, not the British Museum.

I had so hoped I’d lost them at the Great Pyramid. Although really, now that I thought about it, that was rather stupid of me. If they knew where the Heart of Egypt had come from, and they did, they would know where we were headed.

There were quite a lot of explanations given (from the officials), and quite a lot of shouting (from Father), and quite a lot of soothing (by Mother). Finally, everyone calmed down and we were hustled off to a bungalow that had been hastily arranged for us. We would see about finding new lodgings in the morning.

No sooner had the porters set down our trunks than there was another pounding on our door. Honestly! Does no one ever sleep around here?

“What is it now?” I heard Father ask as Nabir opened the door.

“A telegram for most kind sir,” Nabir informed him.

A telegram… That didn’t bode well.

The man from the telegraph office handed Father a thin envelope. He bowed as Father thanked him, then waited while he opened it.

Mum looked over Father’s shoulder and read along with him. She clutched her hand to her throat and let out a gasp. “Oh, no! Alistair!” There was true despair in her voice and the back of my neck prickled uneasily.

Father put his arm around Mum’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Henrietta. He’s a strong boy. He’ll pull through.”

Henry! Something had happened to Henry!

“We must get back to him at once,” Mother said. “I would never forgive myself if…” her voice faltered. “If something happened to him while we were this far away. You know how nasty the influenza has been. I can’t bear the thought—”

Her words broke off suddenly as she buried herself in Father’s shoulder.

Henry had caught the influenza! I wrapped my arms around myself and hugged tight. Influenza was uncomfortably close to the plague. Try as hard as I might, I couldn’t block out Amenemhab’s words.

May your retribution upon these enemies of Thutmose be swift and terrible, may Sehkmet devour their hearts, and Ammit feast on their heads. May all the lands run red with their blood until they return the Heart of Egypt to its rightful resting place, and lay it back at your feet, so that Thutmose’s glory will be whole once more.

And Mum wanted to go home immediately! Which would be the worst possible thing because I hadn’t put the Heart of Egypt back yet. If Mum was this distraught at being far away from Henry when he was ill, just think how she’d feel if she found out she was responsible for his illness in the first place.

I’d just run out of time. I had to get the Heart of Egypt back to the tomb as soon as possible.

I WAS TRUNDLED OFF TO BED while Mum and Dad stayed up late into the night, trying to make arrangements and inquiries about Henry’s health.

They were still sleeping when I snuck out of my room just as dawn broke. I had an appointment with the tomb of Thutmose III.

The hardest part was convincing Nabir that he needed to take me to the Valley of the Kings alone. Luckily, he had sufficient experience with just how single-minded I could be. The argument didn’t last long and we soon set off.

The sun quickly turned viciously hot. It felt like my frock was on fire, and the pack I carried grew terribly heavy. For the first time in my life I was truly grateful for a hat. Mum’s old pith helmet kept my brain from frying like a breakfast egg.

We wound our way through a perplexing maze of canyons until at last Nabir led me to a narrow gorge at the very bottom of the Valley of the Kings. I cannot begin to tell you the thrill of finally seeing the necropolis up close, not to mention the tombs of the pharaohs. I have heard about them all my life, dealt daily with their historic finds, and spent hours trying to cipher out their meaning. And now, to finally experience one in its entirety, as it was originally built and conceived, not in crumbled bits and pieces… it was as if I stood at the pearly gates of heaven itself.

The tomb of Thutmose III was the very last in the valley. There was a single guard on duty. He recognized Nabir, and they exchanged a few words in Egyptian, then he let us pass. Nabir led me to the farthest corner, then stopped at a small cave. He darted inside, then reappeared a moment later carrying a long ladder.

This did not look promising.

He carried the ladder to a fold in the rocky wall. When I looked up, I could see a small opening in the face of the mountain, some ten or fifteen meters up.

Nabir set the ladder at the base of the wall and leaned it against the mountainside. It was just long enough. Barely. It was obviously meant to bridge a grownup-size gap between the ladder and the opening. Not an eleven-year-old-size one. I sighed.

Nabir motioned me over to the ladder.

“Give me an hour or two,” I told him. “I’ll be ready to leave then.”

Nabir nodded. “Two hours. Nabir wait here.”

“Good.” I took a steadying breath, placed one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, and began to climb.

Even with Nabir holding on to the thing, it was a rickety, wobbly climb, and I kept reminding myself to not look down.

Halfway up the ladder I realized Nabir would have a lovely view of my knickers. Blushing furiously at the thought, I glanced down, relieved to find his eyes politely averted.

A good man, our Nabir.

I finally reached the rung that was second from the top, then hesitated. Once I stepped up onto that top rung, there would be nothing to hang on to except the mountain itself.

I eyed the distance from the top rung to the small ledge above. I thought I could reach it. Hopefully.

Taking another steadying breath, I placed a foot on the top rung. My stomach gave a sickening lurch as the whole ladder gave a nasty wobble and my fingers bit painfully into the rocky scree. I reached up until I grasped the outcropping ledge. Relief poured through me, until I remembered the scorpions in our room at Shepheard’s. This hot dry wasteland was much more to their liking.