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I opened my eyes. "Very well." I had, after all, won a small victory. It would be easy to allow him to save face.

He slipped the blindfold on and tied it very gently, making sure not to get my hair tangled up in the knot. "Do you have sisters, Stilton?"

"Why, yes, miss. How'd you know?" There was a touch of awe in his voice, as if he thought I'd divined it somehow. I hated to lose that advantage by explaining that only a man with sisters would be so good at dealing with hair, so I simply said, "Just a lucky hunch."

There was a low whistle from outside the carriage. "All right then, the coast is clear," Stilton said. I heard him open the door; he took my hand and carefully led me down the steps. We shuffled along until he told me to stop. He knocked out the signal on the door, which opened immediately. "'E's waiting in the chamber. Right impatient, 'e is. Wants to know wot took you so long."

"The girl resisted at first," Basil Whiting said from just behind us.

"I thought Tefen here said he could control 'er," the unidentified porter said.

"I can." Stilton sounded a bit testy as he guided me through the doorway.

Once again I was led down a dark and twisting corridor before we came to a stop. The silk was removed from my eyes and I found myself in the familiar dark chamber, lit only with black candles in sconces against the wall. Half a dozen cloaked, hooded figures knelt before me. Only Aloysius Trawley remained standing, his eyes glittering, black and wild in the dim light. It was quite unsettling really, having a half-dozen grown men in hoods watching you while you have no idea who they are.

"You're late," he said to Stilton.

"There was some trouble getting away, I'm afraid."

Trawley turned his crazed eyes on me. "I thought you said you could handle her."

"I can." Stilton's gaze shifted to Whiting, as if daring him to contradict. "It's just that Throckmorton called an unexpected staff meeting, so we were running late."

Accepting this excuse, Trawley jerked his head toward the kneeling men. "Go ahead and join the others. We've had to start without you."

Stilton and Whiting took their places on the floor, and Trawley turned back to me.

"Welcome, O Light Giver of Heaven."

Oh, for goodness sake. Not that again. "Mr. Trawley," I said, forgoing his favored title of supreme master. "Why have I been brought here against my will?"

"Against your will, O Maker of Morning? Have you no wish to see your loyal servants? It has been over two weeks since we last spoke. I thought you had agreed to share your wisdom and magic with us. With you as Isis, and me as Osiris, we will usher in the new age of Horus."

Age of Horus? What did he mean by that? Horus was the son of Isis and Osiris, and the slayer of Set, but I'd never heard of an age of Horus before. The man was clearly a lunatic. "No. I agreed to do you one magic favor, which I've done."

"Are you referring to your prophecy, by chance? The one that hasn't yet come true?" His voice grew annoyed as he spoke.

He was going to hold me responsible for that, was he? "Surely you realize I can only repeat what the gods tell me. I have no power as to whether or not it comes to pass."

He took a step closer, his wild eyes growing angry. "Is that really so? The Queen of all Gods, who can raise the dead and give men vile curses and command the jackal Anubis, cannot order a prophecy to come to pass?"

I shot a hot glance Stilton's way. Someone had been reporting my activities back to Trawley. As if understanding my accusation, Stilton gave a quick, tiny shake of his head. I returned my attention to the fuming man in front of me. "First of all, as I told you last time, I am not the queen of all gods. I'm simply a girl who's learned to remove curses. That's all."

Trawley glowered at me. "How then did you raise the mouse back to life?"

"He was just stunned," I lied.

"And how then did you cause the man at the docks to be covered in boils? And don't deny it. One of the scorpions heard him lay the blame at your feet."

Who had been tattling? "It wasn't me. He simply managed to get a hold of a cursed object and that's what caused the boils."

Trawley took another step closer and I resisted the urge to back up. "If you are not the Queen of the Gods, why then does the jackal Anubis do your bidding?"

No choice but to just bluff this one out. "Jackal? What jackal?"

Trawley jerked his head, and Basil Whiting stepped forward, the flickering light glancing off his razor-sharp cheekbones.

"Please tell the Rosy Light of Morning what you saw down on the Prince Albert Docks two weeks ago," Trawley ordered.

"I was in position, keeping an eye on the man she'd cursed, who was cooling his heels in the river. After about half an hour, a commotion broke out on the deck of the boat they was on—"

"Ship," I corrected.

Startled, Whiting stared at me. "What?"

"It's a ship, not a boat," I explained.

"Quiet!" Trawley ordered. Then to Whiting, he said, "Continue."

"A jackal appeared, carrying a long stick or cane of some kind in his mouth. I decided to follow, and he led me back to her museum, where he went inside through a broken window. I tried to go in too, but the watchman stopped me and said the museum was closed."

This was not good. Not good at all. I had so hoped no one had seen Anubis as he ran through London. Or at least, no one who could connect him with me. "Er...," I fumbled.

"Sir?" Stilton interrupted gently.

Trawley turned on him. "What?"

Stilton tugged at the cloak around his neck. "We really do have only a short time."

Trawley stared at Stilton intently, as if trying to bend the younger man's will to his own, then finally looked away. "If time is short," he said, "let's begin the ceremony."

I was so relieved by this reprieve that I didn't even mind that I was stuck spending the next half-hour watching a number of grown men wander around in ancient Egyptian dress and wave flowering branches in the air. They looked beyond ridiculous. Their chanting was equally nonsensical, blathering on about the fruits of the great mysteries and whatnot. At the very end, they all laid their flowering staffs at my feet and then Trawley cast himself upon them.

I was horrified. "Get up!" I snapped.

"You must raise me up, O Isis. Raise me up, so like the sun rising in the sky, the Age of Horus can begin."

Oh, for heaven's sake! I reached down, grabbed hold of his meaty arm, and yanked—none too gently. He lurched to his feet and then straightened his robes.

"The Age of Horus is born," he declared. "All hail!"

The rest of the men shouted out, "Hail the Age of Horus!" then fell silent.

"Are we done?" I asked hopefully.

Trawley closed his eyes for a long moment. Stilton stepped forward. "Her parents will miss her before too long," he said apologetically.

His words, while not exactly true, gave Trawley pause. "Very well. We are done for the moment anyway." He took a step in my direction, using his superior height to try to intimidate me. "But the next time you come," he said, "I want you to bring the staff Whiting spoke of. I would like to see it for myself, even if it cannot raise the dead."

I bobbed a small curtsy. "I will do my best to arrange it," I lied. The problem was, I no longer had it. Wigmere had taken it for safekeeping. "But it's hard enough to sneak away as it is without carrying a five-foot-long stick," I pointed out.

Trawley sighed. "Remove her," he told Stilton.

Oh dear, he sounded angry, and I really didn't want to provoke someone as unstable as he was. "I'm terribly sorry, sir. It's just very difficult to move about freely when one is a child. And if my movements were further curtailed, we'd never have a chance to have our little talks."

"Very well," Trawley said, sounding somewhat appeased. "But you and I shall meet again." His frantic eyes zeroed in on mine. "Soon."