Horus and the Curse of Everlasting Regret (17 page)

It had been a great and terrible night. Horus breathed in the fishy salt air. He marveled at the stars and the moonglow, the slapping waves, the temperate breeze sifting through his linen wraps. He admired the gentle rocking motion of the boat, and the miracle of the sheer space around him, the endless space!

As he tilted his head up once more, he spied Perch, blacking out the stars as he flapped toward their little boat.

George ducked at first, but when Perch landed softly in the boat, he took a closer look. “Perch! We must be going the right way!” George exclaimed happily.

Perch let out a series of screeches that let Horus know something was wrong.

Horus touched the bat softly.

“Do we need to change course?” Horus asked.

Perch squeaked and indicated a direction. The little bat looked exhausted. His wings were drooping.

Horus spoke loudly, using his influence over George to adjust their course. “Head westerly. The children are in trouble.”

George frowned, and rowed with one oar, moving the boat a little more to the west. He was breathing hard with the effort of rowing, but in this direction, the little dory caught a current, and their pace quickened.

The smack of the water against the boat's wooden sides and the dip of the oars in the ocean were the only sounds as the night watchman, the mummy, and the bat headed out on the great expanse of water.

Horus peered through the darkness and spied, at a distance, two pale figures in the water. They vanished behind a wave and reappeared, bobbing on the surface.

“That way, George!” Horus said urgently, clutching the boat's edge. “Faster, faster!”

George, suddenly inspired to row even harder, bent over the oars.

They were close now. As Horus watched the two people, one of them slid away, disappearing under the water.

“No!” Horus shouted, leaning out over the shadowy water. He waited. Whoever it was did not resurface.

Without pausing to think, Horus dove into the warm, salty sea.

The liquid tugged at his wraps as Horus swam underwater, keeping his eye on the dropping figure, floating downward to the dark ocean floor. The person wore a dress that billowed out in a bell shape. A girl. He could almost reach her. The mummy kicked his small, bony feet. It was difficult to swim holding on to the sling stone. He hesitated for a moment—out here, he might lose it forever. And then he dropped it. The rock sank into the murk and vanished. Horus cupped his skeletal hands and moved his ancient arms as fast as he could.

He had to get to her.

Dorothy slid away under the water so silently that it took Peter a moment to notice. He'd been keeping his eyes turned toward the sky, to keep the water off his face as well as he could. When her fingers drifted away from his, it took him a few seconds to look over to where she'd been.

Dorothy was gone.

Frantic, Peter began treading water, looking around beneath the surface, but though the moon was bright, it was difficult to see at all.

“Dorothy!” he called. He took a great breath and went underwater, peering through the gloom, the salt stinging his eyes. He saw nothing.

He broke through the surface, gasping for air, and tried again. He swam as deep as he dared, but soon his lungs were burning, and his body was tired, too tired.

Peter used all his energy to swim up to the surface, and as he took in a great breath, he was nearly struck by a boat.

“Help!” Peter shouted.

The man at the oars quickly turned on his seat. A look of shock crossed his face, and he reached two wiry arms down for Peter. The wooden edge of the boat scraped Peter's ribs as he climbed over the side. He was so exhausted he could hardly move.

“My friend,” Peter said weakly. “There's a girl. She was with me just a minute ago, and now I can't find her!” He managed to sit up and point to the choppy water.

“A girl?” the man said, sounding anxious. He, too, gripped the edge of the boat, searching. Then he shouted, “Tunie! Tunie, are you out here?”

Peter stared. This man knew Tunie?! Then he heard a squeak and realized that Perch was in the boat, too!

“Her name is Dorothy,” Peter said, but even as he spoke the words, he felt time sliding away too quickly. She had to come up for air or she'd drown. Where was she? The moon was bright, but the churning surface of the water obscured their view of anything underneath.

Suddenly there was a great turmoil by the boat, and in a surge of white, bubbling water, Dorothy appeared, seemingly thrust upward from below.

“Dorothy!” Peter cried. The man in the boat grasped her arms.

Then, to Peter's shock, he spied two eyes glowing under the water. Perch swooped near them and shrilled.

“Horus?!” How had the mummy gotten here? As the man lifted Dorothy, limp and sopping wet, in his arms, Peter reached over and clasped the small, mummified hand that was stretching out of the water. Horus weighed almost nothing, but it still took an incredible effort to hoist him into the boat.

Dorothy coughed, spewing seawater, and opened her eyes.

“She's alive!” Peter said. He started to cry, and Dorothy, catching sight of him, began to sob, too.

“It's okay,” said the kind stranger. “You're all right now. You're all right.”

The two children hugged the man, and Peter kept his arm tightly around the mummy, too.

“Thank you,” Peter said to his rescuer. “Tunie's on a ship, headed that way.” Peter pointed in the direction he thought the ship had sailed. “We need to get to her quickly. The kidnappers are still on board.” Perch squeaked his agreement.

Peter took in their small wooden dory with the splintery oars.

“We'll never catch up to their boat in this,” he said bleakly.

Horus, who'd been squinting at the horizon, perked up. “Look!”

Peter did. “A boat!”

The outline of a large yacht was plowing across the waves. It would pass them in minutes.

George picked up a lantern from the bottom of the boat. “Kids, hold this while I light it. Quick!”

Peter held the glass lantern while George fumbled open its doors and lit it. Once it was glowing, George lifted the lantern high over his head, swinging it back and forth.

“Over here!” he shouted in a loud voice. “We're here! Over here!”

Horus and Peter and Dorothy all joined in, yelling.

At first it seemed the yacht hadn't noticed them, but then, sure enough, it shifted.

“It's changing course!” Peter said.

Dorothy sat up straighter. As the yacht drew closer, they saw lanterns illuminating several men on board. Dorothy cried out with delight.

“Daddy! Daddy, is that you?” she called across the few feet of water that separated their boats, her voice shaking with emotion.

“Dorothy?!” For a moment, it looked as if the man would leap over the wooden rail in his desperation to reach his daughter.

“Wait, sir. We'll bring them up,” said a sailor, keeping a hand on Mr. James's arm.

A rope ladder was unfurled down the side of the yacht, and the small group on the dory climbed up, one by one. Perch rode on Peter's shoulder. Horus came last and stood near enough to Peter to be his shadow. Nobody noticed the mummy.

Dorothy's father dropped the kerchief he'd been gripping and clasped Dorothy to him in a tight embrace, saying “My girl” over and over.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Dorothy said, weeping. The two clutched each other for a moment, while the rest of the crew gave Peter a towel and shook George's hand. The dory was hauled aboard and secured.

Peter spied Officer Hill and said, “Tunie's still on the boat with our kidnappers,” he said.

Mr. James straightened, keeping his hands on Dorothy's shoulders.

“Let's get those animals,” he said fiercely.

“I know the way,” said Peter.

Beside him, Horus whispered, “Hang on, Tunie. We're coming.”

The swift yacht sailed off in pursuit.

Tunie sat in the dark with her knees tucked up toward her chest, her stomach lurching. She hoped she wouldn't be seasick; the sound and smell would lead Reid right to her. Where Tunie hid, it was stuffy and utterly black. She couldn't see a thing. Somewhere down below her, near the ship's metal hull, she heard a scrabbling sound. Rats, she supposed. She got gooseflesh thinking of them and hoped they would not crawl up the netting to where she sat.

She kept her breathing as quiet as she could, swallowed against her rising nausea, and concentrated on listening for Reid. She'd lost him again.

All at once, Reid's nasal voice sounded out of the gloom.

“I know you're in here,” he said. He didn't sound far away, but it was hard to tell in the blackness. “I'll find you sooner or later. In fact, I'm thinking later. We won't get to port for two weeks. How long do you think you'll survive locked in here?” He laughed. “I can see the headline now: ‘Poor Stowaway, Too Stupid to Bring Along Food or Water, Perishes in Hold of Ship.' What a pity. Not that anyone in the Caribbean will particularly care. Certainly, I won't. I will sit beneath the palms and lift my drink to toast your end. Ta-ta!”

With that, his footsteps receded. The hatch slammed shut. She heard a sound like metal scraping across it.

Tunie released the breath she'd been holding. Had he really left, or was this all a trick? She decided she'd sit still, a whole day if she could, to make sure. Better not to risk anything.

For nearly an hour, she sat unmoving in the dark, listening to the rats scrabble and the sounds of feet overhead, the water against the hull.

Then it happened. Again she felt the itching, feathery feeling in her nose, that searing buildup that made her eyes water. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, trying to suppress the sneeze, but it was no use.

“Ah-chooo!”

Instantly a match flared.

To her right, not six feet away, she saw the orange flame rise and ignite a lantern. Its glow brightened to reveal a gaunt face, curled mustache, and those cruel and terrifying dark eyes. Reid.

Tunie tried to scoot away, but Reid grabbed an ankle and yanked, tugging her toward him and raking her back painfully across the wooden corners of the crates.

“Argh!” Tunie cried out. She kicked at him with her other foot, hard, and accidentally connected with the lantern. It went flying. The space darkened, and she heard the sharp shattering of glass.

Reid clawed at her, trying to grab her other foot. Something behind him lit up. The smell of smoke reached Tunie's nose.

“Fire!” she shouted, gesturing behind Reid.

He turned, spied the fire, and swore, then abruptly released Tunie. He tore off his coat and tried to smother the flames, but the fabric ignited, too. Tunie ran over and stomped on the fire, but it was no use.

Reid looked wild. He put his hands to the sides of his head.

“My ship!” he cried. “We need water!”

She scrambled after him as he ran for the ladder, but he reached the hatch before her. As he hurried out, the hatch overhead closed with a click. Tunie climbed up the ladder and pounded on it. It was stuck. She hammered harder with her fists.

“Hey! It's locked!” Tunie shouted.
“Hey!”

Gray-white smoke was rising up from the blaze. She could see the fire growing, the flames leaping from crate to crate.

Tunie shoved against the metal hatch. She knocked on it with her fists.

“Can anyone hear me? Help! Fire!”

The smoke burned her lungs and made her eyes water. The cargo hold was becoming warm. Tunie coughed, banging continuously on the hatch overhead.

“Let me out! There's a fire!”

She glanced down. Through the fog of smoke, she could see the flames spreading across the wooden pallets lining the floor, toward the ladder. She was trapped. What was taking Reid so long?

The air was stifling. Darkness seeped in Tunie's periphery, blocking out the edges of her vision.

In a strangled voice, she called out, “Help! Someone!”

It sounded weak. She beat her fists against the hatch, but her arms were growing tired. She doubted anyone above deck would hear her.

Suddenly the hatch flung open. A policeman's head appeared, and the officer hauled her out, shouting for help.

“I found her! There's a fire! Sound the alarm!” It was Officer Hill. In moments, the crew was in action.

Tunie retreated with Hill, while the sailors formed a human chain, passing buckets of seawater down to those courageous enough to battle the conflagration in the hold. Both Tunie and Hill tried to keep out of the way. Hill led her across the deck. Tunie spied a yacht waiting there.

“Thank you, Officer Hill,” Tunie said as they walked. “You saved my life.”

He shook his head, looking bewildered.

“Would you believe it—a bat showed me the way! It flapped around my head until I chased it down, and then it stopped and stood right there on the hatch, tapping its little claws on it like a bloomin' dancer and looking at me! When I got close, I heard you!”

“A bat? Where is it now?” Tunie looked around for Perch. She whistled for him, and out of nowhere the exhausted bat appeared. Perch gave a squeak of relief and landed on Tunie's forearm. His tiny claws gripped her sleeve and he swung upside down, falling instantly asleep.

Officer Hill looked on in shock.

“My little friend,” Tunie whispered to Perch, blinking tears from her eyes. “What would I do without you?”

“TUNIE!” A boy's voice sounded from the nearby cruiser. Peter jumped over the gap between the vessels and came running toward her. He and Tunie embraced.

“You're alive!” Tunie said. She stepped back and spied Dorothy standing with her father, Mr. James, whom she recognized from the newspaper. Beside Mr. James stood…her neighbor?

“George?!” Tunie said. Before she could ask him anything, there was a commotion among the crowd on the steamship deck. An officer propelled Reid before him. Reid's wrists were handcuffed and he leaned back, resisting as the officer pushed him forward.

“It wasn't me!” Reid protested. “It was Detective Shade! All of it! I was planning to turn him in and free the kids when I had a chance!”

“You mean us?” Dorothy said angrily, standing tall.

Reid looked up and saw Dorothy, Peter, and Tunie flanked by a group of irate-looking policemen.

“He's lying,” Dorothy said to the police.

Reid was doing his best to look surprised.

“I'm so happy to see you kids!” Reid lied. “I was only going along with him until I had a chance to get you away.”

“He was chasing me down five minutes ago,” Tunie said flatly to Officer Hill. “He and Shade kidnapped us and locked us in trunks.”

While Reid was protesting, another officer appeared, shoving along the rumpled Detective Shade.

“Found this guy locked in a trunk. He tells me this kidnapping was all Reid's idea.”

Shade and Reid started shouting curses at one another.

“I've heard enough,” said Hill with disgust. He and Lovejoy began to march Shade and Reid onto Mr. James's yacht. “I know some fellow officers who'd like a word with you,
ex-
detective,” Officer Hill said meaningfully to Shade.

Dorothy was busy talking to her dad and the police. Peter grabbed Tunie's hand and pulled her after him.

“I know a great place to sit,” he said to Tunie. She was puzzled but let him lead her to the front of Mr. James's motor yacht.

Soon she realized why. Standing there, with his little wrapped hands grasping the rail and his head turned up toward the stars, was Horus.

“Horus!” Tunie cried. The slight, somewhat bedraggled mummy turned and stretched his arms out to her, a wide bandage smile on his face. Tunie ran up and clasped the little mummy to her chest as hard as she dared. The mummy returned her hug.

“Horus! You're…you're here!” Tunie's eyes brimmed with tears.

“I'm extremely glad you're all right.” Horus sounded hoarse with emotion. He wiped at his eyes.

“You must have done something wonderfully good!” Tunie said to him.

“What do you mean?”

Tunie leaned back, swallowed against the tears, and smiled.

“I found something in a curse book, a way to mitigate your curse. I was coming to tell you when Reid kidnapped me! I'll explain, but first you must report to me about everything,” Tunie said. “I want a complete description of the last twenty-four hours. Don't leave anything out.”

She sat on the bench beside Peter and Horus. While the watchful adults hovered nearby, seeing only Tunie and Peter and a small gap between them, the three friends sat together and talked all the way back to the harbor, pausing every now and then to admire the stars.