Free Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos-Theo 1 by R. L. Lafevers, Yoko Tanaka Page A

flat, tattling and trying to get me locked up in another of those hideously boring schools."
    "They're not so hideous. They've got sports, you know. Besides, maybe I won't tattle. Not if you make it worth my while," he said.
    I stopped and whirled around to face him. "And why would I want to do that?"
    "If you tell me what's wrong, I'll even try to help you work out what's going on."
    "I don't need your help to work out anything."
    Henry's face fell and I immediately felt awful. Then I had a brilliant idea. What if the reason Henry hated the museum was because he could sense all the black magic? He was my brother, after all. Shouldn't we share the same traits, just like we share the same eye color (hazel, if you're wondering)? "Actually, there is something you can help me with," I told him. "But keep your voice down and your hands in your pockets."

    He muttered something about bossing not being part of the deal and shuffled along after me.
    As we walked among the Egyptian statuary on our way to the exhibit room, I could detect nothing out of the ordinary. I paused at the door leading into the exhibit and closed my eyes. Again, I sensed nothing.
    "What are we looking for?" Henry asked. "And how are you going to find it with your eyes closed?"
    "Henry," I asked, opening my eyes and watching him closely. "Do any of these exhibits ever give you the willies or make you uneasy?"
    "Uneasy how?"
    "Like make your skin crawl—"
    "No. Never. How about you?"
    "No. Never."
    "Then why do you ask?" He thought for a moment. "Is that what's wrong with you? Are you frightened of these stuffy old exhibits?"
    "No! But you hate being in the museum, so I thought perhaps it made you uneasy."

    "I'm no coward!"
    Drat. I'd so hoped he felt some of the same sensations I did, but just didn't know how to say so. Bringing Henry along was already proving to be a bad idea. "Look, I'm just trying to detect what is off with the museum. Something feels wrong somehow. As if someone were here while we were away, or one of the exhibits had been tampered with, something of that nature."
    "You're off your nut," he said. "Forget about school, Father needs to send you directly to Bedlam."
    I whirled around and scowled at him. "Take that back! Right now! Take it back, I say!"
    Stunned, he just stared at me.
    I clenched my fists and took a step toward him. "I'm warning you, Henry. I'm deadly serious. Take that back now or I'll—"
    "All right already! I take it back. Don't get your knickers in a twist."
    I glared at him. "You're not helping." I turned away from him and stepped fully into the Egyptian Funerary Magic room. It was morning, so the presence of the long-dead spirits was subdued. Maybe that was it. Were they too subdued?
    I gave one last look around the room. Everything here seemed perfectly normal. Well, as normal as the Egyptian exhibits ever got.

    We left the room and headed toward the armory. Occasionally a bespelled sword found its way into the museum. Maybe I'd missed one and the sensation was coming from there.
    Henry and I walked among the tall glass display cases that held spears, swords, and battle axes from every historical battle ever fought. Or so it seemed. It didn't take long before Henry became completely absorbed in all the weaponry in the room and I was able to conduct my examination without any interruptions. As I walked among the full-size suits of armor posted around the room like so many silent guards, I felt nothing. No sign of what was wrong with the museum and no sign of Isis either.
    Fighting off a feeling of discouragement, I chewed my bottom lip and tried to think what to do next.
    But of course! Our next stop would be Edgar Stilton's office. If something were truly off, he would be feeling it as well. It was early and he was likely the only assistant curator who had made it in so far.
    When I tapped on his door, Stilton called, "Come in," his voice cracking horribly on the "in" part, which caused him to turn bright red.
    "Good