R. L. Lafevers - Theodosia and the Staff of Osiris

Illustrated by Yoko Tanaka

H OUGHTON M IFFLIN C OMPANY
B OSTON 2008

Text copyright 2008 by R. L. LaFevers
Illustrations copyright 2008 by Yoko Tanaka

All rights reserved. For information about permission
to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions,
Houghton Mifflin Company, 215 Park Avenue South,
New York, New York 10003.

www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com

The text of this book is set in Minister Book.
The illustrations are acrylic on board.
Map of 1905 London used courtesy of the Harvard Map Collection.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file.

ISBN-13: 978-0-618-92764-7

Manufactured in the United States of America
MP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For odd ducks everywhere.
Remember, "odd duck" is just another name
for a swan.

And since this book had so very much to do with mummies,
it seems only right that I dedicate it to my mummy,
Dixie Young,
who ran with the wolves (or maybe it was the jackals!)
long before there was a book written about it
and had to find her own way through the wild woods.
And even with all that, she managed to hold the path open for others.
I only wish I'd understood how hard it must have been earlier.

T HE LACE ON MY PARTY FROCK itched horribly. I don't understand how they can make things as complex as motorcars or machines that fly but can't invent itchless lace. Although Mother didn't seem to be plagued with this problem, I would have to pay close attention to the other ladies at the reception this evening to see if they exhibited any symptoms.

"You're surprisingly quiet, Theodosia," Father said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Surprisingly"? Whatever did he mean by that, I wonder?

"I would have thought you'd be chattering a mile a minute about Lord chudleigh's reception."

Tonight was to be my big introduction to professional life. And I planned to savor every second of it. I would be the first eleven-year-old girl ever to walk in their midst. What if they should ask me to make a speech? Wouldn't that be grand? I would stand there, with all eyes on mekeepers and lords and sirs and all sorts of fancy folkand then I would ... have to say something. Maybe having to speak wouldn't be such a great idea after all.

Mother put her gloved hand on Father's arm. "She's most likely nervous, Alistair. The only young girl among so many important dignitaries and officials? I would have been tongue-tied at her age."

Well. That wasn't very comforting. Maybe I should have been more nervous than I was. The carriage turned a corner and my stomach dipped uneasily.

We reached Lord Chudleigh's residence in Mayfair, a large red brick mansion with white columns and windowpanes. At the door, a butler bowed and greeted Father by name. Then we were motioned inside, where we joined an absolutely mad throng of people, all dressed in fine frocks and evening coats. There were marble floors, and the hallway sported Greek columns. Actually, the whole place had the touch of a museum about it: Grecian urns, a bust of Julius Caesar, and even a full coat of armor standing at attention. Suddenly I was glad of all that itchy laceotherwise I would have felt dreadfully underdressed.

I slipped my hand into Mother's. "Lord Chudleigh's house is even grander than Grandmother Throckmorton's," I whispered.

"Don't let her hear you say that," Father said.

"How could she possibly hear me?" I scoffed. "She's miles away in her own grand house."

The look on Father's face gave me pause. "Isn't she?" I asked hesitantly.

"I'm afraid not." His tone was clipped, as if he wasn't very happy about it, either. "She moves in the same social circles as Lord Chudleigh."

That was the sort of news that could ruin an entire evening. one might think it was a bit of an overstatement, if one didn't know my grandmother.

I stared out at the crowd of people, desperate to spot Grandmother. If I saw her first, it would make avoiding her all that much easier.

Although really, I oughtn't worry, I told myself as we moved into the enormous ballroom. I was on my best behavior and had no intention of drawing any unpleasant attention to myself. Not even Grandmother would be able to find fault with me tonight. Except she believes children in general, and me in particular, should be seen as little as possible and heard even less. Just my being here would be an enormous affront to her sense of propriety.

Music played in the background, but people weren't dancingthey just stood about talking and drinking champagne. We weaved our way among the guests until a tall man who looked vaguely familiar waved us over. Father immediately altered his course and began herding Mother and me in that direction.

When we reached the gentleman, he leaned forward and thumped Father on the back. "It's about time you showed up, Throckmorton. At least you had the good sense to bring your lovely wife."

Mum put her hand out, but instead of shaking it, the man lifted it to his lips and kissed it! He'd better not try that with me, was all I could think. Luckily, he didn't. In fact, he ignored me until Father cleared his throat and put his hand on my shoulder. "And this is my daughter, Theodosia, Lord Chudleigh. The one we spoke about."

"Ah yes!" Lord Chudleigh bent over and peered down at me. "Our newest little archaeologist, eh? Following in your mother's footsteps, are you, girl? Well done." He reached out and patted me on the head. Like a pet. I'm sorry, but you simply don't go around patting people on the head like dogs!

Father tightened his hand on my shoulder in silent warning. "So. What's all this I keep hearing about an artifact of your own?"

Chudleigh looked smug. "After you came rushing home in such a hurry, I had to make a quick run down to Thebes to secure the site."

Father winced slightly. "So you've mentioned." Under his breath he added, "Three times." Then, louder, "I'm terribly sorry about that. If my son hadn't been so ill..."

"Eh, it felt good to get out into the field and get a taste of what you do." Chudleigh nudged Father with his elbow. "I got a chance to find a little something of my own down there, too. Standing in plain sight, it was. Don't know why you and your wife didn't send it straight along with the first batch. In fact, I have a treat for everyone tonight." He puffed up his chest and rocked back on his heels. "In honor of my most recent find, we're going to have a mummy unwrapping!"

A mummy unwrapping! My stomach recoiled at the very idea. Didn't he understand that mummification was a sacred death rite of the ancient Egyptians? That unwrapping a mummy would be the same as undressing his grandfather's dead body? "Sir," I began, but Father's hand pressed down on my shoulder again. Surely I was going to be bruised black and blue from all this hand clamping.

"Fascinating, sir," was all he said. "We'll look forward to it."

"Good, good. Thought you might." Chudleigh nodded. Father excused us, took Mother's elbow and mine, and began to steer us away.

Mum muttered under her breath, "I thought unwrappings went out with Queen Victoria."

I whirled around to Father when we were out of earshot. "Why didn't you say something? That's desecration, isn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose it is, Theodosia. But I'm not personally responsible for every mummy that comes out of Egypt, you know. Besides, the man's on the museum's board. I can't risk getting on his bad side, and telling him that unwrapping his new mummy is bad form would certainly do that."