R. LaFevers - Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos

That’s when Father quit that stuffy old museum and came to work for the Museum of Legends and Antiquities.

Anyway, for the last few years Father had been working on a theory about the location of Amenemhab’s tomb. Amenemhab was Thutmose Ill’s Minister of War, and some attributed the pharaoh’s great military conquests to Amenemhab’s brilliance.

After two years of coming up empty-handed, Mother had finally found the adjoining tomb of Amenemhab.

Father couldn’t wait to see what she’d found. Neither could I, for that matter. I stepped closer to her and asked, “Was it scary, Mum, going into ancient sealed tombs like that? Were you the least bit frightened?”

Before she could answer, Bollingsworth wandered in and distracted her. “Hello, Mrs. Throckmorton. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bollingsworth. It’s good to be back.”

Just like Father, Nigel rubbed his hands together. “Did you bring us lots of treasure?”

“Lots,” Mum said, then threw open the trunk lid with a dramatic flourish.

A chaotic jumble of foul odors slammed into me like a fist: the coppery tang of blood, the smell of rot and decay, wood smoke, and sulfur. I gasped and my knees nearly buckled at the force of the black magic rolling into the room from the trunk.

Father gave me a sharp look. “What, Theodosia?”

“Th-they’re just wonderful. That’s all,” I replied, trying to look as if all was normal. Could no one else feel this?

“But she hasn’t even taken anything out of the trunk yet!”

“Oh, but I know they’ll be smashing. Mum always finds the best things.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, but was quickly diverted when Mum began unwrapping a large, flat package.

Nigel came over to stand next to me. “I say, Theo. Are you all right? You look a bit peaked. Do you need to go lie down or something?”

I shook my head and took small, shallow breaths as Mother lifted the final wrapping away. After the smell, I was half afraid it would be a severed mummy limb or some horrid thing. But it was a plaque carved with intricate symbols and a drawing of a large man wearing the crowns of Upper and Lower Egypt. He held another man by the hair, his raised arm holding a large knife. My stomach bobbed like a cork as I realized he was about to chop the man’s head off. Under his feet were rows and rows of other figures who had met the same fate.

“I say,” said Father, “this is rather bloodthirsty stuff.”

“Oh, this isn’t the half of it,” said Mother. “This fellow makes Kaiser Wilhelm look like a nursemaid!”

She reached into her trunk and pulled out another flattish package and unwrapped it, revealing a long, curved knife with the small figure of Anubis on the handle.

Father whistled. “This is marvelous, Henrietta.”

“Isn’t it?” she beamed. “And there was so much more! All the walls were covered with detailed histories of every war Thutmose fought, his victories and his strategies. It will take years and years to decipher it all.”

I doubted that. I bet if they let me have a go at it, we could have it done in months.

“It contained weapons of every sort imaginable,” Mother continued. “Spears and daggers and long swords, quite a lot of them carved with Apep and Mantu.”

Father frowned. “I’ve never seen the serpent of chaos and the god of war used together like that before.”

“Me neither,” said Mum.

I had a sudden vision of the Mantu hieroglyph I had seen last night. “I have,” I muttered. Both Mum and Father looked at me as if they’d forgotten I was there.

“Where would you have seen such a thing, Theodosia?” Father asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. But of course I wasn’t about to tell him it had been on the Bastet statue. “Er, can’t remember where… Sorry,” I said.

By the expression on his face, it was clear he thought I was pulling his leg. “Anyway,” Mother continued after an awkward moment. “Amenemhab’s tomb also contained a small temple dedicated to the god of war, Mantu.”

“Really?” Father exclaimed.

We spent the next few minutes happily examining stele after stele, spears, daggers, and all sorts of things. Then Fagenbush arrived and would have cast a pall over the whole proceeding except Mother got one of her I am so brilliantly clever looks. She pulled her handbag out from under her arm and held it in front of her until she had everyone’s attention.

“Now, I want you to try and guess what I have in here,” she announced, eyes sparkling.

“Oh, Henrietta!” Father said. “We can’t possibly guess. Put us out of our misery.”

Mum smiled, opened her handbag, and slowly drew out a flat package. She laid it on her still-gloved palm and began unwrapping the paper.

Luckily, everyone’s eyes were focused on the artifact so they didn’t see me shiver violently, as if I’d just caught a ghastly chill. The truth of it was, whatever was in that package was cursed with something so powerful and vile it made me feel as if my whole body were covered in stinging ants.

When Mother lifted off the last bit of paper, she held a large scarab carved out of precious stone in her hand. It had gold wings curving out of its side and they were inlaid with thousands and thousands of jewels. A large round carnelian, the size of a cherry, sat at the head, and a smaller green stone decorated the bottom of the beetle.

“The Heart of Egypt,” she announced. “Straight from Amenemhab’s tomb.”

IN ORDER TO RULE, every pharaoh had an enormous heart amulet made for them when they were crowned pharaoh. It is known as the Heart of Egypt, because the health and well-being of the pharaoh and Egypt were one and the same. It was destined to be placed on the pharaoh’s body when he died. Thutmose’s Heart of Egypt hadn’t been in his tomb, and its location had been a major puzzle for years.

“Yes,” Mother said, nearly bursting her seams in self-satisfaction. “It was in Amenemhab’s tomb the whole time. Not Thutmose’s.”

As Mum handed the scarab to Father, I glanced at Fagenbush. His face was positively aglow with pure greed and excitement. Now, most people when they glow look lovely. Not Fagenbush. He looked even more frightening than ever, as if his glow came from the fires of the underworld itself.

Mum took the Heart of Egypt back from Father and wrapped it up once more. She returned it to her handbag and gave it a good solid pat. “We’ll stash this inside in a bit, shall we, Alistair?”

“Absolutely.”

The adults went back to poring over Mum’s haul and frankly, it was hideously boring watching all the adults ooh and aah over Mum’s finds while I was told to not touch and keep my hands off. Besides, all those curses gave me a dull, throbbing headache and made me feel twitchy.

I glanced up at the clock and saw that it was nearly tea-time. With luck I could talk my parents into letting me pop over to a shop and pick up some food for a proper dinner.

The only hitch in that plan was that Fagenbush would get to see some of the new pieces before I did. He’d probably try to squirrel them away before I got back. Knowing him, he’d pinch the ones with the worst curses on them.

Then I had a brainstorm. “Oh, Mr. Bollingsworth?” I asked in my most casual voice, the one that always put Father on alert when he was paying attention.

“Yes, Theo?” Nigel looked up from a box of wax shabti figures he’d just opened.

“Has the class from Master Hedgewick’s School for Wayward Boys left yet?”