The Osiris Curse (15 page)

“I told you to stay out of Tesla's murder,” said Chase.

“We did,” said Octavia, emerging with Molock from their hiding place. “We were searching for my mother.”

“Octavia,” said Chase. “I'm disappointed in you. I thought you had more sense.”

“
You're
disappointed in
me
? That's rich. I'm not the one who's a member of some secret Egyptian cult that wants to hand over super weapons to the lizard-men.”

“I say,” said Molock. “That's a bit strong.”

“Sorry,” said Octavia.

“You have no idea what you're talking about,” snarled Chase. “Now get out of here and let me do my job.”

“Can't do that, old chap,” said Tweed. “You've been a bit naughty.”

“I haven't been
anything
. You're insane!” Chase switched the gun and pointed it at Tweed. “Now back off.”

Temple quickly yanked his own gun free and pointed it at Chase. “Drop it, Chase. We can take you in and discuss this at the Ministry.”

Chase smiled bitterly. “So that's how it's going to be, is it?”

“That's how it's going to be,” agreed Temple.

A deep thrumming suddenly echoed through the chamber. Tweed felt a vibration running up through his feet. Stones and dust pattered to the ground.

“What—?” began Octavia.

Chase made a sudden lunge for Temple. Temple fired his gun, the explosion echoing around the chamber. Chase cried out and dropped to the ground, a red stain spreading across his chest. Temple glanced down at him then turned and sprinted back for the entrance.

“Wait here!” he shouted over his shoulder. “It could be members of the Order of Osiris. Come to back him up.”

Tweed hurried over to check on Chase. He felt for a pulse. It was still there. Fluttering, erratic, but he wasn't dead yet.

Chase's eyes flickered open and he glared at Tweed with pain-filled eyes. “Ruined everything again, Tweed.”

“Ruined your plan, you mean.”

“My plan? You…you
idiot
. I'm not the traitor. I'm one of those who keep…who keep knowledge of the lizards from everyone else. That's my job. That's why I'm here. To
stop
Nehi and Sekhem from carrying out their plan.”

Tweed frowned. “But…you were pointing your gun at Temple.”

“Use your head! He's a
traitor
. He's in league with the lizards.”

“But…how did you know about this place?”

“That's…that's thanks to you. You showed me the symbol. I
knew it was the cult. Followed the clues here. Didn't expect to find Temple, though. But I've always had a funny feeling about him.”

Tweed glanced over his shoulder to where Temple had disappeared.
Temple
was the traitor? Could it be?

“Always trying to figure stuff out on your own,” said Chase weakly. “That was always your problem. Too clever to listen. Too good to think there were others with more…more experience than you.”

“So you're telling me that Temple is a part of this Hermetic Order of Osiris? That
he
tortured Stackpole?”

Chase grinned. His mouth was filled with blood. “No. You still don't understand. That was me. I had to find out where the map was. Had to stop word of it getting out. Had to lock everything down.”

Tweed wasn't sure he had heard correctly. “So you
tortured
an innocent man?”

“For the greater good. If people found out about the lizards, there would be chaos. Panic. It would shift every political boundary in the world.”

Tweed sat back on his haunches. “You're insane.”

“No. I do what I do to keep the status quo.”

Tweed glanced up at Octavia. She had been listening to the whole thing. Was it possible? It would explain a lot of things. For instance, why the cult showed up at Stackpole's home. If Temple was a spy, he would have told Sekhem and Nehi about Stackpole and his map. They would have wanted to shut him up, especially if they had their own plans. Stackpole was just someone who was making too much noise at the wrong time.

Tweed frowned. What had Temple said before he left? It could be members of the Hermetic Order come to back Chase up. But no one had mentioned the cult to him. Not Tweed, not Chase. So the only way he could know about them was if…

Tweed straightened up and sprinted out of the chamber, heading
back along the passage to the entrance. A bright light was spilling into the tunnel from the outside. Tweed skidded out of the crevice into the valley, then pulled up short. He shielded his eyes and stared upward in shock.

It was the
Albion
. The airship was hovering about thirty feet above the valley walls. It filled the sky, a massive behemoth, looking like a beached whale that listed slightly to the side.

What was it doing here?

Even stranger. Ornithopters were launching themselves in panicked flights from the top of the flight deck. The ornithopters went in all directions, some of them spiraling to the ground, others turning unevenly and heading back toward Cairo.

Ropes unfurled from the railings of the upper deck. As Tweed stood watching in amazement, members of the crew slid and climbed down to the valley floor, their faces panicked and terrified. Some of them didn't make it. Their hands slipped and they plummeted to their deaths on the hard rocks of the ravine floor.

Then Tweed saw Temple. He stood in the middle of the valley waving his arms in the air, ignoring everything around him. Tweed looked up and thought he could just make out Nehi and Sekhem peering over the side of the flight deck. There was a loud crackle in the air, and then Tweed heard Nehi's voice echoing through the night.

“
Do it.
”

The speaker system aboard the airship, thought Tweed.

But do what?

A light flared as Temple struck a Lucifer match. The orange flame illuminated cruel and eager features. Tweed had never seen that look on Temple before. He had always seemed to genial. So calm.

Temple bent over and touched the match to something on the ground. There was a spark and a flare of phosphorous light. Then the spit and crackle of flame moved rapidly in Tweed's direction.

His horrified gaze searched the ground. There. Right against the stone walls. A fuse.

The flame was already upon him. Tweed tried to stamp it out, but the flame erupted on the other side of his shoe and disappeared into the cave.

Tweed ran back to the entrance. “Get down!” he screamed as loud as he could. “Bomb!”

A few seconds later there was a loud detonation, a terrific
whumping
noise that he felt first in his chest, then in his head. A second after that the shock wave hit him, blasting him off his feet and sending him flying into the wall.

Thick, choking dust billowed out of the cave. Tweed coughed and waved it away, trying to see inside.

“Octavia?” he shouted urgently. “
Octavia!
”

He waited, fear rising high in his chest. Then he heard a slight coughing sound.

“Here,” she croaked.

Tweed sighed with relief. “How you doing?”

“We're…fine! I think. Just…behind a few rocks…Wait…” Her voice trailed away, then came back more urgent than ever. “Something's coming! Tweed, something's coming! Hide!”

Tweed frowned. Something was coming? Had he heard that correctly? How could something be coming?

He was almost too busy puzzling this through to remember she had told him to hide. He darted around the side of the rock that hid the crevice from view, just in time to avoid being run over by a rush of bodies. They bounded out of the cave on all fours, scrabbling over the rock, bounding across the valley floor. Tweed peered through the dust and was astounded to see they were lizard people—Hyperboreans. They looked like their true selves, though, running on all fours toward the airship.

When they arrived beneath the dirigible they launched themselves into the air, scrambling quickly up the ropes and over the side.

That was when Tweed finally realized their plan.
That
was why Sekhem and Nehi were on the
Albion
, why this site was so important. Sekhem and his sister were
stealing
the airship. Tweed had no idea why, but that was what they had done. They had ejected all the crew who remained on board and were replacing them with their own. They must have been waiting on the other side of the cave walls, waiting for Temple to detonate explosives to free them.

Why did they want the
Albion
though? It had to be something to do with Tesla's plans. They wouldn't just steal the
Albion
on a whim. This was carefully planned. There was a reason.

But what?

Tweed stared up at the airship in frustration. What were they going to do? Crash it into London? No, nothing so simple. Sekhem wanted a more powerful message than that. He wanted revenge. As he said, an eye for an eye.

But…

Tweed stared speculatively at the underside of the airship. At the empty ropes now dangling from the railings. They couldn't build a super weapon if they didn't have the plans, could they?

He glanced to his right. The dust clouds thrown up by the explosion drifted across the valley, obscuring Temple from sight.

He grinned into the night, spat on his hands, then sprinted from cover, leaping into the air and grabbing one of the ropes.

He started off well, and if good intentions were muscles, Tweed would have been inside the airship by now. Unfortunately, they weren't, and Tweed soon slowed in his ascent. His arms started to ache, his breath came in ragged gasps.

“I…really…have to…get fit,” he wheezed, pausing in his ascent to catch his breath. He looked down. The dust cloud was dissipating.
Temple was still waiting down there—Tweed could just see his figure, dark and shadowy through the thin cloud.

“You'll get yours,” Tweed muttered. He felt betrayed by the revelation that it was Temple, not Chase, who was the bad guy. He'd been so sure. When Molock had said there was a spy in the government, and then they'd seen Chase at the hotel, he'd been convinced he was the spy. Well, you would, wouldn't you? It wasn't
Tweed's
fault.

He shook himself and started climbing again. He looked up. The underside of the ship was about fifteen feet away. Nearly there.

He kept going and finally reached the railing. He pulled himself up and threw his arms over the edge. He'd picked a rope toward the middle of the airship, so that he could hopefully sneak up without Sekhem or Nehi noticing.

He levered himself over and collapsed as quietly as he could onto the wooden deck. His whole upper body was in pain, and when he tried to push himself up he found his arms were shaking violently. He hoped he didn't have to fight anyone right now. That would be embarrassing. He'd have to just whirl his torso back and forth and hope his flailing arms hit somewhere vital.

Tweed peered around. The Hyperboreans were milling around the upper deck, inspecting the remaining ornithopters, staring up at the huge gas bags that kept the airship afloat. One of them was deep in conversation with Sekhem and Nehi over what looked like a map.

Tweed climbed to his feet and dodged around crates that were lashed to the deck with thick wire. He moved quickly between them, keeping out of the bright moonlight.

He made it to the doors and hurried down the steps into the greeting area. The lights had been dimmed. They cast a weak orange glow over the dark wood of the tables and bar. Tweed slipped into the room beyond, pausing to listen.

Silence.

It was eerie. The ship was designed to be full of life and sound, people milling around, staff and waiters bustling to and fro. It wasn't meant to be empty. It felt like the ship's soul had gone missing.

Tweed realized he was just standing in the middle of the room like a statue. He shook himself and hurried through the door into the corridor beyond, heading for the wide staircase in the center of the airship.

He made his way down the steps and along the passage that led to Sekhem and Nehi's rooms. He tried the door. It was locked. Typical. He tried Nehi's but it was also locked tight.

Tweed glanced over his shoulder, but he didn't think there was anyone around, so he backed up against the opposite wall and then lunged forward, shoulder first.

He hit the wood and collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain and clutching his aching arm. He'll give the
Albion
makers one thing. They certainly built a solid door.

He stood up and tried using his feet this time. He finally got the door open on the fifth attempt, the lock splintering so that he was able to shove it the rest of the way open. He stepped inside and wedged the door shut.

He had to move fast. He pulled open the door to the adjoining room. This was where Sekhem had told him about his family, about what was happening to his people.

Tweed looked around for the wooden box, the one that held the plans.

It was on the desk.

Tweed grinned and swept it up. It was heavier than it looked. He tried to open it but it was locked. He spotted a leather satchel with some clothes in it, emptied the clothes out, then stuck the box inside.

He grinned, feeling very proud of himself. He'd done it. He had the plans.

The door leading to Sekhem's room creaked. Then there was a shout of anger. Tweed looked frantically around then dropped to the floor, shuffling under the bed just as someone burst into the room. He saw black boots hurry toward the desk, then spin around again.

“They're gone!”

“
Teska-dul!
”

Tweed wasn't sure what that meant, but he had a feeling it was a rather naughty word.

“I was here only twenty minutes ago,” said Nehi. “They might still be on board.”

You're not wrong there
, thought Tweed nervously.

“Alert everyone. I want the ship searched.”

The feet ran from the room. Tweed thought about his next move. He couldn't exactly wait here. They'd take off soon, and if they were searching the ship he'd be found eventually. No, his best bet was to get off the
Albion
, take care of Temple, then hide with the others until the airship disappeared. Sekhem and Nehi couldn't hang around here indefinitely. They'd stolen the
Albion
, after all. They would want to get over the open sea as soon as possible.