Theodosia & the Eyes of Horus (25 page)

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"What are you talking about?"

"I went to the registry office to see the time and date of Little Miss's birth so I could consult the astrological charts--"

"You did what? Without my permission?"

Awi Bubu merely shrugged. "I do not need your permission. However, imagine my surprise to find that there is no record of a Theodosia Throckmorton being born on British soil."

I felt like he'd just punched me in the stomach. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean that wherever you were born, it was not in Britain."

"O-of course I was! You're daft! Perhaps the people at the registry office just didn't want to give you the information?"

Unperturbed, Awi Bubu shrugged again. "Or perhaps Little Miss does not truly know the circumstances of her birth. Have you spoken with your parents about this?"

"Enough!" I said. "That is not why I'm here." Unwilling to waste any more time on his preposterous nonsense, I remembered the whole reason I'd come. "Do you work for the Serpents of Chaos?" I blurted out, rather artlessly.

Awi Bubu turned to his assistant. "You may leave us, Kimosiri."

The giant, silent man nodded his head once, then slipped

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out the door, closing it softly behind him. When we were alone, Awi Bubu leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "No, Little Miss. I do not work for any manifestation of chaos, serpents or otherwise."

"Have you told anyone else about the Emerald Tablet?"

"Indeed not."

From his shocked look, I had to admit he appeared to be telling the truth. Which meant the leak to Chaos came from elsewhere. Even so, he still owed me a great deal of information on the tablet.

"Very well then. Tell me about this Emerald Tablet. The truth this time." I folded my arms and glared at him. "What does the tablet
do?"

"I thought Little Miss understood. The tablet's value lies in the information it contains, not in any innate power it possesses."

"Rubbish. The Serp--some very evil men are after it, and they would not be after it if it did not have some immense power of destruction."

Awi Bubu grew very still. "Who are these men?" he asked.

"Why should I tell you if you haven't seen fit to tell me the truth?"

"Because perhaps I could help you."

"Help me! Ha! The way you can help me is by telling me the truth."

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His gaze sharpened and I felt his will nudge up against mine, urging me to tell him. "Stop that!" I yelled.

The sensation disappeared. Awi Bubu turned away from me and began rolling up the chart in front of him. "Very well. It is as I said. The Emerald Tablet has very little power itself. Its true value is that it is a map, a series of directions that lead to a cache of Egyptian artifacts of untold value. Artifacts few even dream exist."

"What sort of artifacts?" I asked, but I had a sinking feeling I knew what was coming.

"Artifacts that have been wielded by the gods and goddesses of Egypt themselves. Artifacts that still hold the power of those gods, destructive power that man was never meant to control, power over life and death," he said.

My knees suddenly felt weak and I backed up to the lone chair against the wall and sat down. "How many of these artifacts of the gods are there?" I asked.

"We do not know. Some have been lost through the ages, but there are still many that exist."

"Reginald Mayhew," I muttered, thinking of the British undercover agent Wigmere had mentioned a few weeks ago.

Awi Bubu sprang forward, looking as if he wanted to shake me. "What do you know of Mayhew?"

Shocked, I reared back. "What do
you
know of Mayhew?"

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"I know that he laid claim to some things that did not belong to him and that he had no right to touch."

"I heard he got them from a Frenchman," I said without thinking, and then the penny dropped.

Thelonius Munk had mentioned a Frenchman wandering in the desert, babbling about the
wedjadeen.
And when we'd been researching the staff, Wigmere had discussed a small group of dedicated men who'd smuggled the artifacts out of the Alexandria Library. Could it be? I glanced at Awi Bubu sharply. "Are you one of the
wedjadeen?'

Before I finished uttering the word, Awi Bubu sprang across the room, clamped one hand over my mouth, and made a snatching gesture with the other, as if he were plucking the word from the air itself. The sound of running footsteps sounded in the hall outside, and Kimosiri burst in, panting heavily and looking very afraid.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR BOYTHORPE'S REVENGE

***

AWI BUBU PRESSED HIS WIZENED FACE SO close to mine our noses were almost touching. I could see small beads of perspiration on his upper lip. "Never, never utter that word out loud. Do you understand me?"

Stunned, I blinked rapidly and said through his fingers, "Yes," which came out rather like a croak.

"Come all the way in and close the door," Awi Bubu instructed Kimosiri as he stepped away from me. "Have you never wondered why my faithful assistant does not speak, Little Miss?"

Before I had a chance to admit the question had crossed

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my mind, Awi Bubu continued. "He too uttered that word once. And they cut out his tongue."

Kimosiri opened his mouth and shoved it in my direction. I bit back a scream as I stared into his tongueless mouth.

"Now you must go," Awi Bubu said, herding me toward the door. "Others may be here for you soon."

"For me?"

"For the person who has dared to utter that word. I cannot keep you safe just yet, so you must go."

"But who are
they?"
I asked, thoroughly confused and more than a little alarmed.

"Quickly! There is no time. I will explain the rest tomorrow when I pay your mother a visit. Kimosiri, follow her until she reaches the museum, then return at once."

The larger man hesitated.

"I will be fine," Awi Bubu assured him. "I can make the necessary explanations to the others should they show up. Besides, they will not harm me. I do not think."

Before I had time to ask any more questions, Kimosiri escorted me out of Awi Bubu's dressing room, down the hall, and out the rear door. He was a bit taken aback to find Will waiting for me.

"Miss!" Will's eyes lit up with relief when he spotted me, then he frowned as he saw Kimosiri looming behind. "Everything okay?"

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"Yes, it's fine," I reassured him. Then I turned to Awi Bubu's hulking assistant. "As you can see, I already have an escort. You can go back to Awi Bubu."

He didn't budge, just stood there and eyed me suspiciously.

"Go. Back. To. Your. Master," I intoned, trying Awi Bubu's mesmerism trick on him.

The hulking brute merely raised a mocking eyebrow at me. Bother. That meant there was more to it than just the vocal inflection. I tried a different tack this time. "Truthfully," I said, "Will can see me safely home. If those others come, it's best if you're here to help your master."

Kimosiri shifted uneasily on his feet, then looked over his shoulder toward the theater.

"Go on," I encouraged him. "You know that's where your primary duty lies. Go."

Something that looked very much like relief spread across his face. He folded his hands in front of his body, gave a short bow, then went inside the theater.

***

Once we were alone on the sidewalk, Will turned to me. "Where to now, miss?"

"Somerset House," I said. "There is no longer any doubt. I simply must get in to see Wigmere."

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Will's eyebrows disappeared up into his scalp. "Somerset 'ouse, miss? Are ye sure about that? 'Cause I'm not sure that's the best place for me, if'n you know what I mean."

I glanced at him distractedly. "You're right. It's probably best you wait outside, out of sight of the windows."

Will's shoulders slumped ever so slightly with relief.

We were quiet on the walk to Somerset House. There were so many things Wigmere needed to know! He had to be made aware that Chaos was after the tablet, and this new information that Awi Bubu had provided, that the tablet was in fact a map to a cache of artifacts containing untold destructive force--well, wasn't that the exact sort of thing the Brotherhood kept an eye on?

Not to mention the Brotherhood would likely want to know about something called the
wedjadeen,
whatever it turned out to be.

When we reached Somerset House, Will took up position on the side of the building, and I crossed the enormous empty courtyard on my own. The doorman waved me in, and I proceeded up the stairs. I tried to put my thoughts in some order so I wouldn't burst in on Wigmere and sound frantic and hysterical. It seemed especially important to be on my very best behavior with him right now.

I paused at the landing of the third floor. I'd really hoped to avoid Boythorpe; I simply didn't have the reserves necessary

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to spar with him. I squared my shoulders and darted past Boythorpe's door, praying he wouldn't see me. No such luck.

He was up and out of his office in two seconds flat. "Excuse me!" he said in a smug, officious voice. "You can't go down there."

"Oh, it's all right," I said, ducking around him. "Wigmere's expecting me." Or he would have been if he'd had half an idea of how much I had to tell him.

Boythorpe flung himself in front of me, both arms opened wide to block my way. "He is most certainly not expecting you. I have, in fact, been given very specific instructions regarding you and your visits."

My stomach sank. "You have?"

"Yes. I have been ordered to tell you to leave at once and report anything you have to say to Wigmere through Mr. Fagenbush, your proper contact. You will be made to use the correct channels, or else."

"Whose orders are these?" I asked, the full impact of what he'd said crashing over me. I was not to have access to Wigmere any longer?

Boythorpe drew himself up importantly. "They come from someone much higher than you. Now, please leave or I will have to call someone to escort you out."

Escort me out! Like a common thief or vagrant? "There's

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no need," I told him, trying to keep my voice steady and cheerful. "I'm leaving."

***

Will was more put out by my reception than he had been by his own suspension. "What is that 'ay-brained prig thinking of, cutting you off from Wigmere?" he demanded. '"Oo does 'e think 'e is?" He paused a moment. "I know! I'll go in and create a diversion, then you can sneak past 'im, miss. It'll be just like old times."

I just shook my head, too distraught even to speak. I tried to tell myself I was upset at having to manage all this without Wigmere, but the truth was, Boythorpe's orders to refuse me entrance cut deep.

The walk back to the museum seemed to take forever, the heavy, leaden sky perfectly mirroring my mood. Once there, I found I simply didn't have the energy to tackle any research or curses, or even to see Henry. I most certainly wasn't up to seeing my parents; I was afraid I would blurt out questions about my birth. What had they been keeping from me all these years?

Where was I born, if not in Britain? Or, worse, had I been born in Britain but under a different name? Was I an orphan, perhaps, whom Mother and Father had taken pity on? What if I wasn't really from this family? That would explain so

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much! Why Grandmother disapproved of me; why I had these unusual talents that no one else seemed to possess.

As much as I'd longed for answers to those questions, I'd never imagined
these
answers.

Isis, sensing my mood, appeared at my ankles and followed me to my closet, where she curled up in my lap and kept me company until it was time to go home.

***

At dinner that night, I found my eyes going back to Mother time and again, studying her face, trying to see any similarities between her features and mine. Finally Father got so exasperated he said, "Good heavens, Theodosia, stop scrutinizing your mother as if she were a particularly troublesome translation."

"Sorry, Father," I muttered, turning my attention to the mutton on my plate. To make matters even worse, we were having boiled mutton for dinner, my absolutely least favorite.

"Alistair," Mum said reproachfully. Then to me she said, "Is there anything wrong, darling? Something we need to talk about?"

Here was an opening I could use. "Actually, yes, Mother. I was wondering if you could tell me about the day I was born?"

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