The Curse of the Osirians

House of Protection

"The bookcase is marked with Thoth, the god of knowledge. And we get knowledge from books'" Fabian commented I rolled my eyes that's pretty much what he said about the other bookcase.

"Look at this. R-e-b-t-r-o. Rebtro," I said gleefully as I unscrambled the words in my head.

"I don't get it," Fabian said.

"It's an anagram For Robert," I explained.

I reorganized them and suddenly there was some creaking sounds and we turned around to see light on the pedestal.

"So it's not what's in the books. It's what's on them. We need to spell his full name!" Nina said.

"And "Robert Frobisher-Smythe" is definitely a full name," Fabian commented. We moved around the books until we had managed to spell his first and last name.

"Okay. So we're just missing "Frobisher." That's nine books missing," I stated.

"Where could they be?" Nina asked.

"Frobisher library," I guessed.

"Okay. Let's nail this spelling bee!" She cheered.

We were about to leave when we spotted Victor in the cellar soon joined by our new house mother Vera Devenish.

"Okay, bad idea coming down here before breakfast," Nina said.

"So how's your gran doing?" Fabian asked after a moment of silence.

"Good. We got a postcard of big Ben today. She told me to ask you how the poetry's going," Nina added as I grinned at Fabian as I remember the haiku.

"Uh, well, not so good," he mumbled as he sent me a glare to stay silent about the paper I found.

The timepiece, children.
Watch the timepiece.

"Was that her?" He asked as he saw our freaked out expressions.

"Yeah. It feels like she's always watching," Nina said. I smirked as he wrapped an arm around her in comfort.

*****

"Sorry we're late!" We gasped as we ran up to Mrs. Andrews.

"You're not just late. Class finished five minutes ago. Detention Friday, all of you," she told us.

"Book search?" Nina suggested.

"Hey, Trudy. What's the matter?" I asked as we entered the library causing Trudy to scream in fright.

"I swear, I was only gone for two minutes. I just went to get my cleaning things and when I got back they'd all been opened. What's Jasper going to say? And I think the intruder's still here, up on the mezzanine," Trudy told us.

"What were you going to do? Dust them to death?" Fabian asked.

"Do you have a key? Let's lock them in here and go get help," I whispered.

"No, Mr. Sweet searched the whole place. Everything's still in here, I think," Trudy was telling Jasper on the phone.

"I found another one," my sister showed Fabian and I.

"Oh, great. That makes eight," I said excitedly.

"What's that?" Nina asked as we looked to see Jerome handling a bigger book.

"It's a lending ledger. It dates right back to the '6os.

"If someone took it out back then and didn't return it, then," I started to say.

"Big late fee," Fabian commented.

"We'll never find it then," I groaned.

"Right yeah. Fables of Egypt, volume 7. It was taken out," Fabian read.

"No!" Nina exclaimed.

"Not long ago. Someone called DA Bed?" Fabian read.

"Is that some quirky british name I haven't heard of before?" Nina asked.

"I don't think so. Well, maybe it's a code," he suggested.

"Okay. So how do we find out who DA Bed is?" Nina asked.

"Jasper's on his way. I hope, for my sake, everything's still in here," Trudy informed us.

"Let's go," I whispered.

*****

"Sorry we're late," we said once more.

"Twice in one day. It is not good enough," Mrs. Andrews stated.

"Desole, madame Andrews. Je vous en prix de pardonne notre regarde en polie," Nina said, taking a page out of my book.

"Mm! Nice touch, Nina. You've just saved yourself a second detention. Now, sit down," she told us.

"Nina, Layla! What if "da bed" isn't an actual name? What if it's initials? What? Look.
Daphne Andrews, BE.D. Bachelor of education. Da bed," Fabian whispered to us.

"Oui, oui," I told him with a grin.

*****

"Hi. How'd you get on with Roper this lunchtime?" I asked Jerome.

"Amazing. He's like the ghost of Sherlock Holmes, but way more expensive. I owe him for this. This! Can you believe it? I'm just gonna chuck it!" Jerome complained as he held up a bag.

"Jerome! You do realize this is now the second time you owe money to a supposed private eye!" I complained. Ugh. Not this again. "What is it?" I asked as he suddenly picked out an envelope.

"It's a letter to my mum," he replied sitting on his bed.

"Is it from him? Your dad? Is there an address on this one? Jerome? Jerome!" I asked him. "What is it?"