R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

Rage.

How dare they?

I twisted my neck around so I could see his face. How could I ever have thought him handsome? Was there ever a time when he had truly been kind? Now he was only a vile worm to be ground beneath my boot heel.

Quickly, without giving myself time to lose my nerve, I jerked my arms up hard against his and flung the sandstone dust at him.

The effect was immediate and heart-stopping.

He screamed in agony, releasing me immediately as he stumbled forward and grabbed for his face.

Still clinging to the wall, I took a few steps away from him in case he tried to grab me again.

But he was in too much pain. Much more so than mere sand in his eyes would cause.

Still screaming, he pulled his hands away from his face.

I gasped. The sandstone had eaten into his skin like burning acid. Small pits and lines were etched into his flesh. His eyes were screwed shut, and I could see the flecks of sandstone burning into the skin around his left eye.

He roared, then lunged blindly in my direction. I threw myself backward and slammed into the wall with such force, it gave way. Suddenly there was nothing behind me and I was falling through a black nothingness.

I tumbled end over teakettle down a long, narrow shaft. I let all my muscles go loose, like Uncle Andrew had shown me after my first nasty spill off his horse. When I finally hit bottom (on something quite hard, I might add) I landed like a rag doll. Only I’m sure no rag doll has ever felt as dizzy and disoriented as I did.

I heard surprised shouts from up above, which meant that, for a few minutes, I had the advantage. Hopefully, with Tetley crippled and Bollingsworth half blind, I would have only von Braggenschnott to deal with.

I leaped to my feet and grabbed the torch that had landed just a few feet away from me. I appeared to be in a narrow corridor that went on for about ten feet, then opened up into an old junky closet. But that wasn’t right. Egyptian tombs didn’t have closets. Certainly not junk ones. Which meant… which meant… I clutched my hand to my throat as I realized what it meant.

I had just discovered a previously unknown annex to Amenemhab’s tomb! I’d just landed my first discovery!

Now, if only I could live to tell about it.

“Quickly,” I heard von Braggenschnott call out. “Get Tetley out of sight in case someone comes. I’ll follow the girl.” I glanced around the dusty artifacts in the room. Nothing big enough to hide in. I checked to see if there was another doorway like the one I’d just fallen through. Nothing but pictures of people dying in hunger, and more dying of disease, while even more lay beheaded at Thutmose’s feet.

I stopped when I reached Thutmose’s picture. The image was even more terrifying than in the previous paintings. Thutmose’s face was gaunt and his expression terrible. He looked like retribution personified. Heartless retribution, and there was a gaping hole in his chest, where his heart should have been, to prove it.

The noises coming from the corridor grew louder. It wouldn’t take them long to get down here. I needed to come up with a plan.

Desperate now, I turned and hammered on the wall, hoping it too might crumble and offer me an escape route. But it was solid, and I tore a gash in my hand on the sharp edge of the hole in the wall carving. I stared at the sharply cut indentation as awareness shot through me.

It was the exact shape of the Heart of Egypt. Suddenly, I knew .

Before I had time to act on that knowledge, I heard a sound close behind me. I whirled around to find von Braggenschnott standing just ten feet away, a slightly insane frenzy in his pale blue eyes. I glanced to the left, then the right, but it was hopeless. There was no place to go.

Von Braggenschnott’s cold blue eyes traveled down to my neck.

The Heart of Egypt had come out from under my collar sometime during my struggles. Von Braggenschnott stepped closer, then ever so slowly reached out to hook his finger under the chain.

Quickly, I yanked the chain from my neck, whirled round, and shoved the Heart of Egypt toward the wall.

Von Braggenschnott launched himself at my knees, knocking me to the ground. I struggled and kicked, trying to get back up. My foot made sharp contact with something. I heard a crunching sound and prayed it was his nose. Von Braggenschnott yelled and loosened his grip. I scrambled to my feet, threw myself at the wall, and thrust the Heart of Egypt into the indentation.

“ Nooooo! ” von Braggenschnott screamed. He grabbed my arm and viciously wrenched me away from the wall. Ferocious pain ripped through my shoulder and my vision blurred. I tried to move my arm but nearly fainted at the fresh wave of pain.

I stumbled back, clutching my useless left arm. The pain was so great I could barely think. I watched von Braggenschnott, blood streaming down from his nose, scrabble at the Heart of Egypt, trying to pull it from the wall.

I held my breath and hoped that I had found the one place that would prevent anyone from ever taking it again.

As he struggled, I noticed a swirling in the air, a thickening of the magic around us. It joined together in little eddies, and the smell of frankincense rose up in the chamber. The Heart of Egypt began to glow, as if lit by a warm, inner light. It lasted only a second, then the wall turned back to the way it had been. Except now the Heart of Egypt sat where only a gaping hole had been. And von Braggenschnott’s hand was stuck to it.

“What have you done, you stupid girl?” he yelled at me.

Saved Britain, I thought to myself. And Henry.

Then von Braggenschnott began to scream in earnest. “My hand! It’s stuck! It’s joined to the Heart. Help me get it free!”

I stared in horrified fascination at von Braggenschnott’s hand, which did seem to be stuck smack in the middle of the wall.

Realizing that this was my chance for escape, I turned toward the corridor, screaming when I saw Bollingsworth leaning against the doorway, one side of his face nearly eaten away.

I groped around behind me, looking for something to defend myself with. My right hand closed around a long, thick truncheon. I picked it up, shocked at how heavy it was. Perfect. The heavier the wood, the more solid the hit when I bashed him.

“Don’t let her get away!” von Braggenschnott called out, still stuck to the wall. Ignoring him, I held the stick loosely in my right hand and focused on Bollingsworth, gritting my teeth at the pain coming from my left shoulder.

Bollingsworth sneered. “You think you can stop me with that? I think not.” A sharp, nasty-looking dagger appeared in his left hand. Then he held it out in front of him, ready to strike.

I hefted the stick and, with as much force as I could muster, swung clumsily upward. It crashed into the knife, knocking it from Bollingsworth’s hand. Not stopping to think lest I lose my nerve, on the return swing I brought the stick down on Bollingsworth’s skull. There was a loud crack, like the sound of a breaking melon. My stomach heaved, and I was afraid I was going to be sick.

As Bollingsworth dropped like a ninepin, my vision went black and stars danced in my head as another wave of pain rolled through my shoulder. “You killed him, you wretched girl!” von Braggenschnott called out.

I struggled to the nearest wall, my knees no longer able to support me. “I did not!” Please let him not be dead. Please.

I leaned my head back against the cool stone, closed my eyes, and waited for my heart to quit galloping. Realizing I still held the stick in my hand, I flung it from me, as if it had attacked Bollingsworth, not I.

As it hit the ground, the wood shattered, falling off in large chunks and bits. I looked down and saw the glitter of gold shining through.