"Alistair, I'd like you to meet Admiral Sopcoate."
Admiral Sopcoate had a jolly face. He was quick to catch my eye, then smiled. I liked him immediately.
Admiral Sopcoate shook Father's hand. "What is it you do, again, Throckmorton?"
Father opened his mouth to respond, but Grandmother talked over him. "He's the Head Curator of the Museum of Legends and Antiquities."
When Grandmother said nothing more, Father quickly stepped in. "And this is my wife, Henrietta. She's the museum's archaeologist and brings us a number of our most spectacular finds."
Grandmother sniffed.
"And this is my daughter, Theodosia," Father continued.
Admiral Sopcoate reached out and took my hand. (No head patting or hand kissing here! I knew I liked him for a good reason.) "Pleased to meet you, my dear."
"And I you, sir." Still determined to be on my best behavior, I added, "Perhaps you'd like to come by and see our museum someday? We'd be happy to give you a tour."
Grandmother's eyes flared in irritation. She fixed me with a gaze that clearly said, Do not dare speak again in my presence, then turned back to the admiral. "We were just discussing Admiral Sopcoate's newest addition to the home fleet, the Dreadnought."
"Yes! Have you seen her yet, Throckmorton?" Sopcoate asked.
"I can't say as I have," Father said. "Although I've read a bit about it in the paper."
"The Dreadnought is the newest crown jewel in Her Majesty's fleet," Sopcoate explained. "Makes every other battleship in the world obsolete."
"If you ask me," Grandmother butted in, "we can't have enough battleships. Not with Germany's determination to become the world's greatest naval power."
"Now, now, Lavinia," Admiral Sopcoate reassured her. "The British Navy is twice as strong as the next two navies combined."
Lavinia! He'd called her by her Christian name! I'd forgotten she even had one.
"Not if Germany has it's way," she answered darkly. "They are determined to challenge our naval supremacy."
"Don't worry." Sopcoate gave a jolly wink. "Once those Germans see the Dreadnought, they'll put aside their misguided ideas of naval equality with England."
"But isn't that rather like baiting a bear?" Father asked. "How do you know they won't come out swinging, determined to build even more battleships of their own?"
Couldn't grownups talk of anything besides politics and war? I knew that the Germans and the British were on the outs with each other, but if you asked me—although no one did—that was mostly the fault of the Serpents of Chaos. They were a secret organization dedicated to bringing about disorder and strife in their quest to dominate the world. Specifically, they wanted Germany and Britain at each other's throat. They wanted instability and utter chaos so they could move in and seize power. However, now that Wigmere and I had foiled their plans, this whole war-cry nonsense would surely die down.
Luckily, before the adults could go on too long, we were interrupted by a faint clinking sound. Lord Chudleigh was striking his champagne glass with a tiny fork. "Time has come, everyone. Gather round. Here's your chance to see a mummy unwrapped, the unveiling of the secrets of the Egyptians."
An excited murmur ran through the crowd, and everyone shuffled over to the table on which the mummy lay. I tugged on Father's hand. "Do I have to watch, Father? Can't I wait over there?"
He patted my shoulder. "There's nothing to be afraid of, you know."
Of course I knew that! That wasn't the issue. It just seemed wrong to be unwrapping the poor mummy in front of all these gawking visitors who didn't give a fig about ancient Egypt or the scholarly pursuit of Egyptian burial practices.
As we drew closer, I made a point of hanging back behind Mother and Father, but then Admiral Sopcoate stepped aside. "Here, young lady. Come stand in front of me so you can see better. You don't want to miss this!"
Of course, he was just being kind. I opened my mouth to say, "No thank you," but caught Grandmother's eye. The warning glint told me that refusing wasn't an option. Biting back a sigh, I stepped forward and found myself in the front row, merely three feet away from the mummy on the table.
"This unidentified mummy was found inside the newly discovered tomb of Amenemhab," Chudleigh went on. "We're hoping that by unwrapping him tonight, we will learn more about who he was, as well as insights into the mystery of mummification. Are you ready?"
A wave of assent rose up from the gathering.
"Throckmorton, Snowthorpe, would you do the honors, please?"
Father blinked in surprise. He quickly hid the look of distaste that spread across his face and stepped dutifully forward.
"Let's start from the feet, shall we?" Snowthorpe suggested.
I thought about closing my eyes, then wondered if Grandmother Throckmorton would be able to tell. Testing the theory, I screwed my eyes shut—just for the merest of seconds. Immediately there was a sharp poke in my shoulder blade and a disapproving sniff.
I opened my eyes and thought briefly of handing her a handkerchief. Honestly! I didn't see how it was rude to close one's eyes but perfectly all right to sniff constantly, like one of those pigs that can root out truffles.
I turned my attention back to the front, but looked steadfastly at Father instead of the mummy.
It takes a surprisingly long time to unwrap a mummy. To entertain his guests, Lord Chudleigh jawed on about mummy legends and curses—the most sensational rubbish he could find, and most of it not even close to the truth. When he got to the part about how they used to grind up mummies to be ingested for their magical properties—that part true, unfortunately—I was so utterly revolted that I blurted out, "You're not going to grind this one up, are you?"
There was a long moment of silence in which everyone chose to stare at me, and I suddenly remembered my promise to do nothing to call attention to myself.
Chudleigh gave a false laugh. "No, no. Of course not. This one will become a part of my own personal collection."
"Oh. I beg your pardon," I said, vowing to keep my mouth shut from now on.
At last Father and Snowthorpe came to the mummy's head. I studiously kept my eyes glued to Father's face. When the last bandage was lifted away, the crowd gasped in delighted horror.
I will not look, I will not look, I told myself. But sometimes the more you concentrate on not doing something, the more drawn you are to doing it. In the end, my curiosity got the better of me and I looked.
"Behold—the unknown priest of Amenemhab!" Lord Chudleigh called out.
A smattering of applause ran through the crowd. Unable to help myself, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the mummy's face.
It was a face I had seen only a few short months ago, when I'd been forced to confront three of the Serpents of Chaos in Thutmose III's tomb. Their leader's words rang in my ears. That is twice he's failed me. There shall not be a third time.
"Oh no, Lord Chudleigh." The words bubbled out before I could stop them. "That isn't an unknown priest of the Middle Dynasty. That's Mr. Tetley. From the British Museum."
CHAPTER TWO
Chaos Returns
THE CROWD ERUPTED INTO SHOCKED EXCLAMATIONS. Father looked at me strangely. "You know Tetley?"
"What on earth are you talking about?" Chudleigh asked.
Behind me, I heard Grandmother declare, "She's gone too far this time." Just as her clawlike hand reached for me, I took three giant steps forward, answering the least dicey question first.