"You're choking me!" Henry squawked.
I glanced down at him. His eyes had returned to normal and he was no longer set on bolting after Awi Bubu, so I let go of his collar.
"What was that for?" Henry asked, rubbing his neck.
"Because you were about to follow Awi Bubu right out the front door, that's why."
"Why would I do that?"
"For the same reason you told him we had the Emerald Tablet."
"I did not!" he said hotly.
"Actually, you did, Henry. But it wasn't your fault. I think he's some sort of mesmerist. Now be quiet for a minute. I need to think." I sat down and Isis came over and rubbed up against my leg, as if trying to impart some wisdom to me. I reached down and scratched between her ears. "And why did he think you were such a powerful friend? I wonder."
Isis meowed in annoyance, then batted at my ankle with her paws.
"Not," I hurried to add, "that you aren't a wonderful cat and my best friend in all the world, but I wonder at Awi Bubu's reaction, that's all. Most adults don't recognize your brilliance." Appeased by this, she started purring. Henry fidgeted in his chair, but I ignored him.
Why did the Egyptian want the tablet so bad? Why not any of the other artifacts in our museum? Many had active curses on them; why would he not want those? Especially since this tablet seemed rather tame in comparison to the Staff of Osiris. Or did he truly believe the formula contained in it would turn base metal into gold? I'd always understood alchemy to be bunk, but perhaps I was mistaken. Many considered Egyptian magic to be nonsense, and look how wrong they were.
I sorely needed Wigmere's opinion. Perhaps he would know whether the formula was legitimate. If he didn't, he might have some other idea as to why this tablet held so much importance. He didn't want me using Will, but I refused to confide in Fagenbush. Therefore, my only choice was to pay him a visit myself. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly four o'clock. Too late to visit Somerset House today. But first thing tomorrow would find me at their doorstep.
However, I did have just enough time to create another distraction for Fagenbush to ensure he wouldn't follow me to Wigmere or interfere in any way. I leaped to my feet, eager to set up my next decoy.
"Wait!" Henry said. "Aren't you going to explain what happened?"
"Sorry. Awi Bubu is a bit of a magician and he used his trickery to get you to obey him."
"He did not!"
"Yes, he did," I said gently. It must have been unnerving to realize someone had the power to make you do something.
Henry opened his mouth to argue further.
"I'm going to set up another diversion for Fagenbush. Do you want to help or not?"
Henry's mouth snapped shut; he was torn between wanting to disagree and wanting to be in on the sleuthing. "Yes, but that old man didn't make me do anything..."
The truth was, although I tried my best to remove any and all curses from the artifacts, there were a few that I had not been able to get rid of. Some of them were quite vile, like the ceremonial urn with a curse that called on the waters of the Nile to swallow someone whole. Or the pectoral amulet that was cunningly inscribed with a curse that invoked Anat to pierce the wearer's heart with her mighty lance. As much as I disliked the Second Assistant Curator, I wasn't quite ready to do him such fierce bodily harm. I was looking for a way to distract and divert him, not kill him.
I rummaged through my mental inventory of cursed artifacts as I made my way through Statuary Hall. There was nothing here I could use; for one thing, the statues were all too big, and—wait a minute. I paused at a plinth nestled between a statue of Ramses II and an obelisk of the New Kingdom. Staring back at me from behind a glass box was a jackal mask. Anubis, to be exact. It was made of wood, and its dark resin-based paint had eroded over the years, giving the mask a very sinister appearance. Once worn by priests during mummification rituals, it contained a cunning curse: anyone who wore the mask without first undergoing the rituals of purification and then making an offering to Anubis would bark like a jackal.
That would work.
But how to pique Fagenbush's interest, let alone get him to put the thing on?
"What are you looking at that ugly mask for?" Henry asked. I sighed wistfully. Awi Bubu's mesmerism tricks would come in quite handy if they allowed me to make Henry be quiet for five minutes.
"I'm thinking I can use it to distract Fagenbush." While I had told Henry quite a lot about what had been going on around here, all of it had been human-based events. I hadn't confided in him about the curses and black magic yet. For one, I wasn't sure he would believe me, and two, I wasn't sure I trusted him to not use it against me the next time we got in an argument.
"Henry. Here's what I need you to do. Go down to Fagenbush's office and sneak by his door, only sneak loudly, so he's sure to hear you."
"Why would I want that beast to hear me?"
Could he figure nothing out on his own? "Because, Henry," I said very slowly, "we want him to follow you up here so he'll think he's discovered something about this mask and examine it. Then, hopefully, he'll spend most of tomorrow studying it and leave us alone."
"Right. Got it." Henry saluted and tore off down the hall, which gave me about three minutes to come up with a plan. The first part was easy. All I had to do was position the glass box covering the mask so that it was askew. That would let Fagenbush know that someone—me—had recently been investigating it. But how to get him to put it on? Then it occurred to me: I didn't need him to actually put it on. He could just look closely inside it, which would mimic putting it on and thus activate the curse.
I patted the pocket of my pinafore and located a lump of old wax. I slipped behind the display box and stuck the blob of wax in the corner of one of the mask's eyes. If Fagenbush was worth his salt as a curator, he would look closely at the wax before removing it, in order to be sure removing it wouldn't cause any damage. Then I tilted the mask on its side, as if someone had knocked it over by accident. Now all that was left to do was wait for Henry.
Sure enough, I heard the clumping of his feet on the stairs. "He's coming," he whispered when he reached the top.
"Shh! Let's go." I grabbed his hand and headed down the hall. This part had to be timed just right. We hurried past the Egyptian exhibit and went to the door that led to Father's workroom. I paused there, waiting until Fagenbush appeared at the top of the stairs. He needed to see me so that he'd wonder what I'd been up to. Then hopefully his rather annoying instincts would kick in and he'd notice the Anubis mask.
There! His long, dark form appeared on the top stair. "Quick," I said to Henry, then I pushed him into the workroom, came in right behind him, and slammed the door.
Mother and Father looked up, startled, when we burst into the room. "What are you two doing up here?" Father asked.
Henry kept running, but I slowed down long enough to answer Father's question. "We just wanted to remind Mother that she promised we could decorate Easter eggs this week."
"Well, instead of storming through here like an army of invading Mongols, why don't you come have a look at this and tell me what you think?"
I had been inching toward the far door, but his words brought me to an abrupt halt. "You want to know what I think?" I asked, uncertain I'd heard correctly.
"Yes." Father turned back to his worktable. "Your mother and I are having a devil of a time with these hieroglyphs and you seem to be able to read them as if they were no more than slightly sloppy handwriting."
He'd noticed! I grew a bit lightheaded at the novelty of it all.
"We talked about asking Weems," Mother added as she put her hand on my shoulder to gently propel me toward the table. "But since the mummy incident I don't trust his discretion."