Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris-Theo 2 (27 page)

It needed to be a corker.

As I padded down the corridor to my closet, Isis trailed behind me like a wisp of smoke. Surely Wigmere would know what to do.

Except that the last time we were faced with something of this magnitude, I had ended up having to deal with it alone. In a foreign country.

But if this involved the lives and safety of seven hundred British sailors, Wigmere would have to step in and use his power and influence to the utmost.

The good news was that Miss Sharpe's festering boils would likely keep her away for at least one more day, which would leave me free to do all I needed to get done.

Just then, Isis stopped following me and looked back the
way we'd come, her back arched and all her hair standing on end.

"What?" I peered back into the darkness. There! I heard a ... sniffing sound. And the faint click of nails on the marble floor. A dark black shape detached itself from the rest of the shadows and stood in the mouth of the hallway.

"Anubis," I whispered. It had taken me a moment to recognize the living statue that had burst out of our front window only the day before. But now he was back. The question was, why?

"Don't make any sudden moves," I warned Isis, keeping my voice low so as not to startle the jackal. Isis flattened herself against the wall. I hoped Anubis wouldn't see her and take up chase. There was nowhere for any of us to go.

The jackal lowered his head and advanced slowly down the hallway toward us.

Keeping my eyes locked on Anubis, I began to back down the hall. I'd nearly made it to the main corridor when Isis slinked out from behind my ankles and disappeared into the shadows. I braced myself, expecting Anubis to have seen her, but he kept prowling toward me, a low growl in his throat.

I glanced to the right and then to the left, but there was no safe place. No office I could take refuge in, no closet I could slip into. Just the open foyer on one side and the long
corridor on the other. Both would allow the jackal to overtake me in a matter of seconds.

My hand crept up to the neck of my gown and fumbled for the amulets there. I gripped them hard and faced Anubis. "There's a good dog—er, jackal," I said. "Nothing to be angry about. You chased the silly cat away. You showed her what's what."

"Grrrrr,"
was his only response. A bit of saliva dripped from his teeth. He was within launching distance now—one good leap and he'd be at my throat. Except he didn't leap. He tilted his head to the side and stared at me. The growl disappeared.

Heartened by this, I stood up a little straighter. "That's right. You and I should be friends, actually. I—eek!"

Anubis rose up on his hind legs, planted his paws on my shoulders, then began licking my neck. Well, no. Not my neck. My amulets! I glanced down around his muzzle, past his tongue, and saw that he was licking the Blood of Isis amulet. Of course! Anubis and Isis were great friends!

Remembering how fond my cat was of being scratched behind the ears, I reached out and tried it on the jackal. He stopped licking and angled his head under my hand for better coverage. Being a statue for decades, he no doubt acquired a number of itches that needed a good scratching.

As I worked my fingertips through the coarse, straight
hair that reminded me of brush bristles, a low, contented growl escaped from his throat. I ended up giving him quite a long scratch because I didn't know what he'd do once I stopped.

Finally, when my hand got tired, he opened his eyes, shook himself, then turned away from me. He put his muzzle to the ground and continued sniffing along the floor of the museum, as he'd been doing before he had spotted me.

Puzzled, I decided to follow him for a bit to see what he was up to.

Sounding a bit like the new Hoover that our maid used to sweep the carpet, the jackal moved along the corridor. After a few moments of this, his ears perked up and he became more animated. He sniffed twice more, then made a mad dash for the door that led to the catacombs. He practically shoved his nose under it, sniffing like a crazed thing and scrabbling with his claws.

"You want to go into the catacombs, do you?" I said, coming up behind him. He sat down and peered intensely at the knob, as if expecting me to open it.

"Well, I suppose you don't have anything to fear down there, do you?" I opened the door and he exploded down the steps like a shot, clattering the whole way.

What
was
he exactly, anyway? I wondered as I followed
more slowly. He couldn't actually be the god Anubis, could he? Perhaps he was a
bau,
a spirit manifestation, sent by Anubis to do his bidding on earth.

Whatever he was, by the time I reached the bottom step, he was pawing frantically at the wall where the mummies were leaning. Oh dear. It was where I had placed the staff. Where the jackal had last seen it before it had been stolen.

Which meant he must have been a guardian figure sent to protect it. Excellent! I could use a little help. Although how to best utilize his jackal skills was a bit of a puzzle.

After having sniffed every square inch of the floor in front of the wall, he returned to me, sat on his haunches, and whined in a mournful tone. I should have been more frightened of him, but he had a bit of cobweb stuck to his muzzle and it made him much more like a dog and less like a jackal.

I went to a shelf and grabbed the Canopic jar that had held the Orb of Ra. "Here," I said, shoving the jar toward his nose. "Is this what you're looking for?"

The jackal took a few quick, loud sniffs, then sat back down with his tail wagging back and forth.

"It's gone missing," I said. "Someone stole the staff, if that's what you're looking for." His ears perked up. "I bet you could track it, couldn't you? After all, that's what the hounds do on the hunt, and I know you're more clever and
cunning than a mere hound." His long tail whipped back and forth, narrowly missing an Old Kingdom stele. But how does one explain the concept of docks to a jackal? How could I get him to understand where I wanted him to go?

And then it hit me! "I'll be right back," I said, then galloped up the stairs to the coat rack in the hall. It was still there! I grabbed my hat, the one the sailor had fished out of the water for me when we had toured the
Dreadnought.
I turned to go back down the stairs, but the jackal sat right behind me, waiting, and I nearly tripped over him. "Well, like I told you, the staff has been stolen. But I can give you a clue as to where you'll find it. It's down by the docks. Here." I thrust the ruined hat at him. "The docks smell like this."

His nostrils went into overdrive as they sniffed up every fiber of the hat. He was so thorough, I was half afraid he'd inhale the thing. When he was done, he looked up and met my gaze, keen intelligence shining in those dark eyes of his. "Good boy," I said. "Now, fetch."

He gave one quick, sharp bark, then exploded off his haunches and out into the night.

I was heartily sick of having to wait for everyone else to bring me information or take a message for me. Even that wretched jackal had more freedom than I did.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
I
WAS AWAKENED
by a knock on my closet door. "Who is it?" I called. I stretched and rubbed my eyes.

"It's me, Theo."

"Oh, Mum!" Awake now, I hopped out of the sarcophagus as Mum came in. "Any word from Father?" I asked.

"No." She said it briskly, as if it didn't worry her one bit, but the dark circles under her eyes gave her away. "I have, however, heard from Miss Sharpe. She sent a note around saying she was unwell and unable to come today." Mother's gaze sharpened slightly. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"No! Well, only that she left early yesterday because she was feeling ill. You can check with Stilton if you like. He was there at the time."

"No, no, that's fine. But I must warn you, Theo—I have much on my mind and am horribly busy this morning. I have a hundred things to do. You'll have to take care of yourself today without Miss Sharpe here."

A huge bubble of frustration rose up inside me. Didn't I do exactly that every single day? "Of course, Mother." Still hungry for information, I pressed on. "Who else have you heard from?"

Mother bent over, picked up my pinafore from the floor, and began smoothing it out. "The Royal Archaeological Society, for one. It seems I will not be joining their ranks at this time."

"Oh, Mother! I'm so sorry. Is it because of the mummies?"

"They say not." She hung my pinafore on a peg. "However, that's the least of our worries, I would think."

Which reminded me: "Were you able to talk to Admiral Sopcoate last night?"

"No, I'm afraid not. He was at dinner with a delegation from Abyssinia, but your grandmother said she'd send a personal note to him first thing this morning." She gave me a tired smile that I thought was supposed to give me fortitude, but instead left me feeling vague and uncertain.

Just then, there was an urgent rap on the front door. An unusually grim and determined look came over Mother's face. "If that is Inspector Turnbull again, I shall make him rue the day he ever set foot in our museum."

She sounded frighteningly like Father. I followed after her as a second knock reverberated down the hall. Mother jerked the door open and nearly missed being beaned with Grandmother Throckmorton's cane, which she was raising for a third knock. "About time," she sniffed, pulling her cane back to her side.

Before Mum could retort, Grandmother sailed in. "Where is that granddaughter of mine? There you are," she said. "What on earth have you done to Miss Sharpe?"

I swallowed nervously. "I-I don't know what you mean. Mum said she sent a note around that she was ill..."

"No. Not just ill. She sent me a letter resigning. She will not be returning, even when she regains her health. And after all the trouble I went to! You will tell me the meaning of this, young lady."

"Really, madam," Mother said. "With everything else going on right now, it seems to me that Miss Sharpe is not our most pressing concern."

Grandmother drew herself up to her full height, but instead of blasting Mother for her impertinence, she simply said, "Have you news of my son?" And then it hit me. Her
outrage about Miss Sharpe was just an excuse! She'd really come over to see what was happening with Father. Honestly. Why couldn't she just say so?

Mum shook her head. "The inspector isn't exactly being forthcoming. Have you word from Admiral Sopcoate yet?"

"Yes. He sent a note around this morning. He'll be tied up escorting a delegation from Abyssinia on a tour of the
Dreadnought,
but once he's finished up there, he said he'll come right along and help us sort out this mess."

Admiral Sopcoate would be onboard the
Dreadnought,
and Chaos was planning to kidnap it! My stomach dipped at the full impact of this. I had grown quite attached to the jolly admiral. Besides, if something happened to Admiral Sopcoate, Grandmother would turn back into her horrid, grumpy self.

Taking a huge risk by speaking without being spoken to, I said, "Excuse me, Grandmother. But what time will that be? Did he say?"

She peered down her nose at me. "I suppose the strain of having your father arrested has chased away what few manners you had." But her words didn't have the normal sting to them.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I
am
rather worried."

"As are we all, child," she said with a sigh, looking old and tired. It was shocking, really, seeing her this way.

"The time?" I gently reminded her.

"Their tour is scheduled for eleven o'clock. He said he'd be done by two this afternoon."

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Admiral Sopcoate wouldn't be in danger after all. What I really needed to do was find out what time high tide was.

"Excuse me." I bobbed a quick curtsy, then left the room, anxious to find Stilton.

He was in his office, just sitting down to his desk. "Did you find out?" I asked as I burst in.

He glanced up at my interruption. "Oh, good morning, Theo. Yes, I did. High tide is at twelve forty-seven p.m. today."

Right in the middle of the admiral's tour! He
would
be in horrible danger! "Thank you," I said, then dashed toward the west entrance, hoping Will would be there early. Surely he'd realize we'd have much to discuss this morning, after our wild adventures of the night before.

However, Will was nowhere in sight at the west entrance. Instead, I found Snuffles hiding in the bushes. I would have missed him but for the loud sneeze that exploded from the shrubbery just as I was closing the door.

"Snuffles?" I whispered.

And up he popped. "Miss?" he said as he wiped his nose along his sleeve.

I winced, then spotted the clean linen handkerchief I'd
given to him sitting crisp and white in his coat pocket. "You're supposed to use your handkerchief for that," I said.

"Oh, no, miss! It's much too nice for that."

I blinked, then shook my head. "Where is Will this morning?"

Snuffles's face fell. "That's wot I was hopin' you could tell me. He didn't come home last night. He and Ratsy went out—"

"Ratsy?"

"Me next oldest brother, miss."

"Just how many of you are there, anyway?"

"Seven. There's Will, then Ratsy, next comes Sparky, then me, an' Pincher, Soggers, and the Gob."

"The Gob?" I repeated faintly.

"Aye. On account of 'im putting everything in his gob."

I hardly knew what to say to that. Luckily, Snuffles brought us back to the subject at hand.

"Anyway, 'e and Will went out last night after we got back but then never came 'ome this mornin'."

"Maybe he just went to give Wigmere the message?"

"Mebbe. But not Ratsy. Ratsy had a job this mornin', but we couldn't find a sign o' him anywhere."

My stomach dropped all the way to my knees. This was not good. Not good at all. Did they get too close to Chaos's
plans? Or did this have something to do with the Grim Nipper?

And how was I going to get word to Wigmere now? "Don't worry, Snuffles. We'll find him."