R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

I thrust the torch into one of the holders on the wall and hurried over to wedge myself into a small space between two large statues of Anubis. No sooner had I ducked out of sight than a footstep crunched on the gritty floor of the chamber itself.

Then I heard something that confirmed my worst fears.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, little girl,” a singsongy voice called out in a thick German accent.

Von Braggenschnott! Or one of his henchmen.

Hearing that dreadful voice in such a twisted version of a nursery game made me want to stick my fingers in my ears and start humming. Instead, I grasped my amulet in my hand and tossed out as many prayers as I could think of to anyone who was listening.

What on earth was I going to do? I’m only an eleven-year-old girl, not a secret agent! Even if I am rather cleverer than most, I do still have some limitations. And I think I’d just run smack into one.

I HEARD ANOTHER STEP COME INTO THE CHAMBER, then another. Three of them! How was I to get by three of them? And how did they get past Nabir?

A hideous thought struck me. Had they harmed Nabir? Guilt rose up in my throat and I almost retched. I had cajoled and pleaded with him to bring me here. If he was hurt, it would be my fault.

Von Braggenschnott started up his little song again. “Come out, come out wherever you are. You have something that doesn’t belong to you and I want it back.”

The footsteps echoed loudly in the silent chamber as the others fanned out and began searching for me. There was a scrape of something heavy as they dragged things around, trying to peer into every nook and cranny.

I shrank back against the walls. As my moist palms pressed into the rough wall behind me, a piece of magic lore from Ancient Egyptian Magical Thought and Procedures by Cyril Profundicus popped into my head. Ancient Egyptians believed that dust scraped off the carvings in tombs had magical properties. If ever I needed an extra magical advantage, it was now.

Using my fingernails, I began scraping at the rough sandstone, trying to collect some dust.

I kept my attention on the searchers and ignored the jagged ripping of my nails against the wall. The sandstone was soft with age and it didn’t take long before I had a small amount of dust in each of my hands. I carefully transferred all the dust into my right hand, then thrust it into my pocket and hoped the ancient Egyptians hadn’t been pulling old Profundicus’s leg.

Von Braggenschnott barked out an order in German and there was a low, rumbled reply.

Perhaps they were only guessing that I had the Heart of Egypt. There was no way they could be absolutely sure. Perhaps I could bluff my way out.

“There really is no point in hiding, fräulein,” von Braggenschnott continued. “There are three of us and only one of you. You will not get away, and you only risk making us angry.” His voice rose up harshly on the last word.

I glanced around furiously, looking for something other than dust to defend myself with. I stared at the altar, practically willing something to appear. But the only thing there was a collection of small wax and clay figures. I started to turn away, then remembered something from Nectanebus. Hoping against hope, I picked up one of the figures. Bits of hair stuck out of the wax along with a piece of ancient papyrus with writing on it. Yes — an execration figure! (The Egyptian version of voodoo dolls.) With luck, I could tap into their magic and use them to smite my enemies. Or at least slow them down.

Shadows loomed on the walls as the men drew closer. They were unnervingly quiet as they steadily worked their way to my spot.

I quickly began to carve new symbols into the wax with one of my jagged fingernails. I carved the symbol to invoke power, then another symbol for smiting my enemies. Then I paused. This part was tricky because I had to guess the men’s names correctly or the magic would be useless. I was almost positive the one doing all the talking was von Braggenschnott, and nearly as sure one of the men was Tetley. But I needed to be certain.

“I am getting tired of these games,” von Braggenschnott called out. “If you don’t cooperate with us, I will have my men seal you up in a sarcophagus until you learn some manners.”

I took a deep breath. “Ha! I spit on your threats,” I called out. “I’m not afraid of a sarcophagus. Honestly, I’ve slept in those things before and there’s nothing to them.”

“Perhaps.” Von Braggenschnott chuckled, a truly horrid sound. “But I’m guessing there wasn’t a mummy in yours. And there is in the one I have in mind.”

My heart began racing in my chest and my palms grew clammy. To be shut up in a sarcophagus with a mummy? My knees nearly gave out at the thought. “You’re bluffing! Mother didn’t find any mummies here!”

“Tcht! Surely you don’t think this is the only excavation we pay attention to? No. We keep our eyes on all of them. However,” he said, his voice quite menacing, “if you really make me angry, we shall pull your brains out through your nose like the ancients used to do. Only you shall be alive to witness it firsthand, yah? Won’t that be an interesting thing for someone as curious as you?”

I gulped. There was a sound just off to my left. I looked up to see one of the men leaning over the Anubis statue, grinning at me. It was Tetley! Well, now I had one name I was sure of.

Playing for an extra moment or two, I duck-walked around one of the Anubis statues to the far side of the funerary chariot leaning up against the wall. As I carved Tetley’s name into the wax figure, I began whispering the execration rites. Just as I finished the final hieroglyph, Tetley’s ugly head reappeared, so close I could have reached out and tweaked his nose.

There was only one escape route open to me now. I would be out in plain sight, but at least I would have room to maneuver on either side and wouldn’t be caught like a rat in a trap.

I shoved to my feet and made a mad dash to the back wall.

The tomb fell deathly silent as all three of them turned to watch me.

I stood with the tomb wall firm against my back, the execration figure hidden along the side of my skirts, glaring at my pursuers. I recognized von Braggenschnott immediately. And Tetley. And — I gasped. “You!”

“Yes, me,” Nigel Bollingsworth said. “Who did you think, Theo?”

Finally, I found my voice. “I–I was sure Clive Fagenbush was the traitor!” A deep wave of relief swept over me. At least it wasn’t Mother.

Nigel laughed. “Fagenbush. I knew he’d come in handy. No, I’m afraid he’s not the traitor, merely a convenient diversion. Which is why I encouraged your father to hire him. He is so perfectly suspicious-looking that I knew all eyes would be turned to him if anything ever went wrong.”

“But why are you working for the Germans?” I asked. “You’re British!”

A slow, twisted smile drew across his face. “Haven’t you worked it out yet in that clever head of yours, Theo? I’m not working for the Germans. I’m working for the Serpents of Chaos.”

“The forces of chaos have risen once more,” I whispered.

“Ach,” von Braggenschnott interrupted. “So you know of our little group.”

“I’ve heard of it. Once. From the man you tried to murder in the churchyard.”

“Clumsy business, that. Normally we make no such mistakes.”

“It seems to me you’ve made several over the last few weeks,” I replied.