Theodosia & the Eyes of Horus by R. L. Lafevers Read Free Book Online Page A

hate it when Henry is right. I especially hate it when he is right and I am wrong. The truth is, I would not have remembered even if Grandmother hadn't been waiting. Or even if the wretched scorpions hadn't ambushed me.
    Before we could continue our conversation, Grandmother reached us and began fussing over Henry, who lapped it up like Isis with a bowl of cream. At least now I could make my escape.
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    I edged toward one of the pillars, hoping to slip out of sight unnoticed. I wanted to head for the reading room and research the oracle ritual Awi Bubu and Trawley had used. Maybe there were clues that might explain how both Ratsy and I had managed to have the same prediction.
    I had nearly made it to the hall when I had to hop out of the way as Vicary Weems strode by. He held his nose so high in the air he didn't even realize he'd nearly bowled me over. Beast. I waited to see what he was up to.
    Father had returned, and Weems pranced toward him, throwing a glance at Henry as if he were something nasty my cat had dragged in. Weems cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir?"
    Father, who had just managed to get Grandmother out the door, looked annoyed. "What is it, Weems?"
    He cleared his throat again and tried to look as if what he was about to say pained him. However, the relish in his eyes belied that. "We've had a note from Lord Chudleigh, sir. He reminds us that the board of directors is still waiting for the museum's inventory, which was due Friday."
    After the recent fiasco with all of London's mummies ending up on our doorstep and suspicion landing, however briefly, on Father, the museum directors had decided they wanted a detailed inventory of all our artifacts, something
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    that hadn't been done in years--if ever. Presumably, the board members wanted a head count in case one of our artifacts decided to wander off. They completely missed the point that all the other artifacts had migrated here.
    Father sighed and stabbed his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Yes, Weems. But as you can see, I'm a little busy at the moment trying to get this new exhibit ready for the opening."
    "Yes, sir. I understand. But the opening is two weeks away, while the inventory was due three days ago. I find that it is all a question of managing one's time proper--"
    "Thank you, Weems," Father interrupted, not sounding the least bit thankful. "I'll have it to him directly."
    Weems quivered in righteous indignation as he gave a crisp "Very well, sir," then high-stepped it out of there. Honestly, how does he not trip over his own feet like that?
    "Theodosia?"
    Oops. "Yes, Father?"
    "Have you finished inventorying the basement yet?"
    "Almost done, Father. Just one more shelf, really."
    "Well then, get to it. I need it by the end of business today so I can get it to Chudleigh first thing in the morning."
    "Yes, Father." Assigning me to inventory the basement had been a combination treat/punishment. (Yes, only my father
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    would try to combine those two!) It was also an attempt to keep me occupied, since Grandmother had been unsuccessful in finding a governess who'd stick.
    My research on the oracle rituals would have to wait. I changed direction and hurried to my small closet to fetch my ledger.
    A miasma of cursed magic had hung over the basement for some time, but I hadn't been able to pinpoint it to a particular artifact. Since I was running out of time, I decided to just grab every last bit of wax I owned and conduct a mass Second Level Test on everything at once.
    I reached my closet and fetched the ledger from the wash-stand, where I'd carelessly set it. Next I went to the large satchel where I kept all my curse-removing supplies and rummaged around until I had a handful of wax bits--candle stubs, mostly. Thus equipped, I headed for the catacombs.
    On my way, I called softly for Isis, wondering where she'd gotten to. She normally came to greet visitors, so I was surprised she hadn't turned up in the foyer when Henry