CHAPTER SEVEN
To Luxor We Will Go
THE ONLY GOOD THING TO COME of Mr. Bing's rescue was that I was able to tell him about von Braggenschnott as Bing escorted me back to Mother. He seemed genuinely horrified and could not wait to deposit Mother and me at the hotel, then return to the museum and try to apprehend the man. I, however, was convinced von Braggenschnott would be long gone. His mission was accomplished, after alclass="underline" to let me know in no uncertain terms just how intimately he knew of my every move.
Perhaps it was just as well I had taken Quillings's weapons, I thought.
When the stately entrance and elegant patio of the Shepheard Hotel came into view, I nearly wept with relief. The hawking vendors and street entertainers began to swarm, but honestly, these people had nothing on the seething masses from which I'd just come. I ignored them and dragged myself up the front steps behind Mother. I was shaky and weak and wanted nothing more than to lie down, but of course I couldn't. I had to come up with a plan to retrieve the missing orb. Especially with the Serpents of Chaos skulking nearby. I shuddered to think what would happen if it fell into their hands. I could only hope that they didn't know how to properly activate it.
Once back in our rooms, Mother decided we should rest until it was time to dress for dinner. That sounded lovely to me. I closed my room door, then leaned against it and took a deep breath. I gave myself exactly one minute to collect myself, then pushed away from the door. "Did anything exciting happen while I was gone?" I asked Isis.
She meowed, then hopped gracefully off the bed and came over to rub her head on my ankle.
"I'll take that as a no." I glanced over my shoulder to be certain I'd closed the door, then went to the wicker basket. I lifted Isis's cushion from the bottom, then stopped. Best to be cautious.
I hopped up, grabbed a pillow from the bed, and stuffed it along the bottom of the door to seal it. Then I went to the window and pulled the drapes shut. When I was certain no hint of the tablet's magic or power would leak from the room, I reached in and removed the false bottom that Wigmere had built for me, relieved when I saw the piece of old newspaper. However, after my disaster with the orb, I wanted to be absolutely certain. I unwrapped the layers of newspaper, then the thin lead sheet that kept the tablet's magic from leaking out and being detected. I sighed in relief at the dull green stone. The Emerald Tablet, something for which occultists and alchemists had been searching for centuries. And, by a bizarre twist of fate, had ended up in our museum's basement. But it held far more than alchemical secrets. It was actually a coded map that led to a cache of artifacts that had once belonged to the Egyptian gods and still held unimaginable power. Power that would be terrible and deadly if it fell into the wrong hands—the hands of the Serpents of Chaos, say.
I gave the tablet a little pat, then carefully rewrapped it. "Good work," I told Isis as I put the false bottom back, then replaced the cushion. "I, however, have botched things horribly." She came over and nudged my ankle. Only too happy to cuddle for a moment, I picked her up and buried my face in her soft black fur. When I felt strong enough to go on, I lifted my head and stared into her bright green eyes and confessed every horrid detail of my afternoon.
When I got to the part about losing the orb, she stopped kneading at me with her claws and looked up. Was it just my imagination, or did her golden green gaze hold a hint of reproach? "It wasn't really my fault," I told her. "I was in danger, and everything was happening at once. It could have happened to anyone."
She blinked, then went back to her kneading.
"I don't suppose you can slip out into the city and hunt it down for me, can you?"
There was no response.
Nearly sick with regret, I went to the door, retrieved the pillow, and put it back on the bed, then went to look out the window.
Gadji had given me the stable address, such as it was, but honestly! It would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, I thought as I looked out over the rooftops of the city. How on earth was I to find the old quarter, and if I did, there had to be at least a hundred carpet sellers in Cairo. Which one was the stable behind? The sheer enormity of my blunder made my throat tighten with panic. Perhaps I ought to lie down just for a moment to collect myself.
While I lay staring at the ceiling, petting Isis, there was a soft rap on my door. "Yes?" I called out.
"Are you dressed for dinner, dear?" Mother asked. "It's almost time to go down."
"No, Mother. I don't think I want dinner this evening."
I heard the door open, then the rustle of skirts as Mother made her way over to the bed where I lay. She peered down at me, her lovely eyebrows drawn together in concern. "What's wrong, dear? Are you ill?"
As I stared up into her worried brown eyes, I was overcome with a desire to tell her everything—the whole sordid mess. I was so tired of keeping secrets! They made my head ache.
I'd spent the entire afternoon trying to think of a way to explain to her just whom she'd had tea with at the Antiquities Service, but it was, quite simply, impossible. While she knew of von Braggenschnott from his work as a slightly shady antiquities dealer, she had no idea who he really was. And if I tried to alert her, she would wonder how I had come to know him. And of course there was no explanation for that, not without explaining everything. Something I'd sworn not to do.
"I have a bit of a headache," I said. "Perhaps from too much sun."
Her frown deepened. "Well, that doesn't bode well for you working on the excavation."
Bother! I wasn't about to risk the only pleasant thing about this entire trip. "Well, perhaps not the sun so much as the crowd this afternoon. It was a bit unsettling."
Mother's face grew pale. "Indeed. You must be very careful not to let anything else like that happen again, do you understand? This is not like our own neighborhood, where you can be allowed some freedom. The streets of Cairo are very different from the streets of London."
I thought it was beastly unfair of her to blame that on me.
"You gave me quite a fright, Theo." Her voice softened. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." She placed her hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes and let myself soak in the comfort she was offering.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean for that to happen. The crowd was just so big and confusing, and people were pushing and shoving..."
"Shh. I know, dear. Everything's fine now. Here, let me get you a cool cloth." She went over to the basin and wet a linen cloth, then wrung it out. When she put it on my forehead, it smelled faintly of lilacs. "When I return, I'll have them send up some light broth and toast. How would that be?"
"Lovely. Thank you."
She leaned down and kissed my cheek, then headed for the door.
"Oh, and Mother?"
"Yes, dear?"
"Could you have them send up some sardines for Isis?"
There was a long pause. "Very well. Broth, toast, and sardines." Then she closed the door behind her, and I was alone.
However, I'd wallowed in self-pity long enough. It was time to come up with a plan. A course of action that would allow me to ... well, a plan would be good. I didn't like having to give up on the orb, but I didn't see that I had much choice at this point. The tablet was the bigger priority. While the orb was a hugely powerful artifact, the Emerald Tablet could lead the Serpents of Chaos to an entire cache full of artifacts, all of them as powerful as the orb, if not more so. Best to cut my losses and focus on keeping the tablet out of Chaos's hands.