"Medicine?" Grandmother asked, her sharp gaze zeroing in on the younger woman. Miss Chittle had gotten both her arms into her sleeves by now and stood ready to bolt.
Grandmother sniffed. Her eyes widened, and then she sniffed again. Her eyebrows shot up. "Spirits, Miss Chittle?" Her voice rang out through the foyer.
As the governess blinked in alarm, Isis left my ankles and went over to comfort her. Perhaps Isis was trying to make up? But wait! What was that in her mouth? Before I could do a thing about it, Isis dropped a small, wet, bedraggled ball of fur onto the toe of Miss Chittle's lovely kidskin boot.
Eyes wild, Miss Chittle looked down at her shoe, shrieked, and, before I could explain it was a peace offering, kicked her foot and flung the poor mouse clear across the room. It struck one of the last remaining mummies smack in the middle of the forehead, then tumbled to the floor.
"I say, good shot, Miss Chittle!" Admiral Sopcoate called out, but she was already running toward the front door.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, then Father snickered. Grandmother rounded on him, irritation snapping in her eyes. "Don't encourage her! She just chased off another governess—and drove her to drink in under an hour!"
Honestly! That was so clearly not my fault.
"Now, now, Lavinia," the admiral soothed. "Clearly the young woman had too nervous a disposition for this sort of job. You need to find a governess with a little more backbone."
Hear, hear, I thought but kept to myself.
Grandmother straightened her back and raised her chin a bit. "And I shall," she promised.
When everything fell quiet again, Father asked, "Theodosia, don't you have some work to do?"
"Yes, sir. I'll get right on that. It was very nice to see you again, sir," I said to the admiral. "Ma'am." I curtsied at Grandmother, then left. Really, there's nothing like Grandmother Throckmorton to put something as ghastly as catacombs into perspective.
I shivered when I opened the door that led down to long-term storage. The air was definitely disturbed. Something was afoot. I reached under the collar of my dress and pulled my three amulets out into the open, where I could clutch them in my hand. (I don't know if that actually made their protective magic any stronger, but it made me feel better.)
When I reached the bottom of the stairs, the sense of wrongness was overwhelming. Especially once I noticed that the entire right-hand wall was empty.
All the mummies that had been there the day before were gone.
I frowned. I was sure I hadn't seen them upstairs with the others. Still mulling over this puzzle, I turned to the left side of the room and squeaked.
All seven mummies from the right wall were now over by the left wall. But they weren't leaning up against it; they were standing free, looking down at the ground, as if paying homage to something on the floor.
CHAPTER NINE
Waking the dead
MY HEART THUDDING IN MY CHEST, I inched my way over to see what they were bowing to. When I finally worked my way around the last mummy (careful not to touch it), I saw the magician's staff I'd discovered the day before, still lying on the floor where I'd left it.
Keeping my eyes on the mummies the whole time, I squatted down and picked up the staff. As I rose, I heard a rustling and a creaking. One by one, each of the mummies' heads turned in my direction.
It was the staff that had called the mummies closer! The staff that had made the mummies upstairs leave their museums and private collections to gather here!
The realization struck me like a hammer.
I would have to get word to Wigmere at once. And I needed to figure out what exactly it was that I'd discovered. Something that had power over the dead, that was clear. But what? And why? And how much power?
And what was I to do with the wretched staff in the meantime? If I took it with me, would the mummies follow me up the stairs?
I took three steps forward to test it. Sure enough, every single mummy shuffled along behind me.
I nearly burst into tears. What did it all mean? Had their ba, or souls, returned to their bodies? Were they merely reanimated, such as the zombies of western Africa? The enormity of what I didn't know was staggering.
But it was clear that I would have to leave the staff down here with the mummies for the time being.
I hid the staff behind some shelving and backed away cautiously, half afraid the mummies would be attracted to my ka and follow me. But they had eyes only for the staff.
Once I was clear of the mummies, I gave in to the urge to run—not walk—up the stairs. When I reached the top landing, I breathed a sigh of relief.
It was time, definitely time, for a little research. Or rather, piles and piles of it.
I searched the reading room and quickly found what I was looking for on the shelves. My arms full of books, I headed for my small carrel, then shut the door with my foot. I didn't need anyone looking over my shoulder or surprising me. My poor nerves had had quite enough excitement already.
The first book I opened looked promising—Mummies and Their Secrets by Sir Lynn N. Bandage. He'd studied hundreds of mummies and conducted a number of mummification experiments of his own. The book contained a recipe for making a mummy (it took at least seventy days and either bitumen or natron salts) but nothing about what might have power over one. I put that book aside and reached for another one.
A Dark Journey Through the Egyptian Underworld by Mordecai Black talked quite a bit about all the demons one must safely pass before reaching the Egyptian afterlife, called Duat, along with spells and charms needed to pass them, but again, nothing that would serve my purposes and no mention of a staff.
Finally, I found a small tidbit in The Rites of the Dead by Sir Roger Mortis. Anubis, the jackal-headed god of embalming, sits at the right hand of Osiris.
Now, of course I knew all about Anubis and Osiris, but I'd never heard it phrased that particular way before, that Anubis sits at the right hand of Osiris. What if that wasn't a figure of speech but a description? The staff did have a jackal's head and could be a representation of Anubis. So, what if the staff was something that Osiris held in his right hand?
Hoping that I had finally found some answers, I turned the page to read more, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. "Theodosia?" It was Edgar Stilton.
"Yes?"
Edgar entered and glanced quickly around the room, a tic starting on the left side of his jaw. "Your parents are looking for you. They're getting ready to leave for the day."
Bother. Just when I'd caught the scent! "Thank you, Stilton. I'll be right there." I stood and closed the book so no one would be able to see what exactly I'd been looking up, then left the room. Just outside I paused, then plucked a hair from my head and inserted it above the door latch after I had shut it tight. If anyone snuck in and examined my study materials, I'd know it. I have to say I was greatly relieved that we wouldn't be spending the night here at the museum with a staff that literally had the power to wake the dead.
CHAPTER TEN
Here, Mousy, Mousy...
WHEN WE ARRIVED AT THE MUSEUM the next morning to find no one waiting on the steps for us, Father's mood improved considerably. In fact, he was so cheered that he completely missed the racking shudder that ran through me the moment I stepped inside. Drat it all! The newest restless spirit had hopped off the mummy it rode in on and was now lurking in our foyer.
Of course, no one else noticed a thing. Mother and Father immediately headed up to their workroom, hoping to get in a full day's work and make up for lost time.