Read Online Horus and the Curse of Everlasting Regret by Hannah Voskuil - Free Book Online
Authors: Hannah Voskuil
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it’s fate,” she said, smiling. Her eyes dropped to the sling stone in Horus’s hand. “That’s the rock you were holding before. It’s for a sling weapon, right? How exactly did you get it out of the display case? Why do you carry it around?”
Horus unfolded his bound fingers, revealing the stone in his palm. “Every night, I use a skillet from that kitchen to smash the display case glass and retrieve this stone. Every day, it disappears from my hand and returns to the case, which mends in a blink, as if it were never shattered.”
Then Horus traced the symbol carved into the stone. “This is my only remaining possession. It was a gift from my brother.”
Tunie studied the stone and smiled. “Really? And it survived all these centuries? What luck!”
Horus continued, “It reminds me of how badly I treated my brother, and of certain…misdeeds.”
Tunie stopped smiling. “Oh. Not good luck, then.”
Horus closed his fingers over the rock and shook his head. “Well, that’s ancient history, so to speak! Can I offer you some tea?”
“Hate to rush, but I need to check on my dad. I’m meeting Peter back here in a few hours, though. See you soon, Horus!”
“Goodbye, and thank you!” Horus said.
On her way out, Tunie looked back and saw Horus clutching a library book to his skeletal chest. Who cared if he’d been a thief? She was starting to like that little mummy.
“Do not slurp your soup, Randall,” Stepma said. Larry, who was sitting at the dining table next to Randall—and had been the one making all the impolite noise—smirked.
Peter had just finished hiding two dinner rolls stuffed with ham in the napkin on his lap. He was feeling grouchy, as Miss Cook had chastised him for getting blood on his shirt and made him change before dinner. As if he’d intentionally set out to injure himself and destroy his own clothing!
His stepmother continued, “I’ve decided to accompany your father to New York when he leaves, to see him settled. Miss Cook has kindly agreed to look after you all for a few days. Luce will come with us, of course.”
“Can I come, too?” Peter asked quickly, looking from his father to his stepmother. If he and Tunie failed, he wouldn’t be going to Camp Contraption, and if he wasn’t at camp when his father and stepmother left, he’d be stuck home alone with the beastly twins.
“Aw. Is the wittle baby scared to be left alone with us?” Larry taunted.
“Larry,” his mother said with disapproval.
Peter gritted his teeth, feeling a flash of fury. “I’d rather be locked in a cage with a grub-eating gorilla than in this house alone with you two. Compared with you, a hairy gorilla is positively
civilized.
”
“Peter!” Stepma and his father said at the same time.
“You’re the gorilla!” Larry shouted back, spitting a little, his narrow face turning red.
Peter’s anger got the best of him. He leaned over his soup toward Larry. “Compared with you, a gorilla is a towering intellectual! Compared with you, a gorilla is a model of hygiene!”
Larry lunged across the table and launched his bowl of soup so it splattered in Peter’s face.
Peter wiped his eyes with his sleeve and yelled, “At least a gorilla knows not to waste his food and only throws poo! Oh, wait, I forgot—you do that, too, you poo-flinging primate!”
Peter’s father stood and said at full volume, “That’s enough! All of you, to your rooms—now!”
Peter managed to keep the ham sandwiches hidden beneath his shirt as he folded his arms and stormed away. He heard his stepmother usher the twins into their rooms across the hall. In his bedroom, he took the sandwiches, wrapped in his cloth dinner napkin, and placed them in a wooden box so he didn’t crush them. He wished he had something more to bring—a thermos of hot chocolate, maybe. The metal thermos they’d had for years was up in a high kitchen cabinet, however; there would be no way to sneak it out.
The thought of the
Horus unfolded his bound fingers, revealing the stone in his palm. “Every night, I use a skillet from that kitchen to smash the display case glass and retrieve this stone. Every day, it disappears from my hand and returns to the case, which mends in a blink, as if it were never shattered.”
Then Horus traced the symbol carved into the stone. “This is my only remaining possession. It was a gift from my brother.”
Tunie studied the stone and smiled. “Really? And it survived all these centuries? What luck!”
Horus continued, “It reminds me of how badly I treated my brother, and of certain…misdeeds.”
Tunie stopped smiling. “Oh. Not good luck, then.”
Horus closed his fingers over the rock and shook his head. “Well, that’s ancient history, so to speak! Can I offer you some tea?”
“Hate to rush, but I need to check on my dad. I’m meeting Peter back here in a few hours, though. See you soon, Horus!”
“Goodbye, and thank you!” Horus said.
On her way out, Tunie looked back and saw Horus clutching a library book to his skeletal chest. Who cared if he’d been a thief? She was starting to like that little mummy.
“Do not slurp your soup, Randall,” Stepma said. Larry, who was sitting at the dining table next to Randall—and had been the one making all the impolite noise—smirked.
Peter had just finished hiding two dinner rolls stuffed with ham in the napkin on his lap. He was feeling grouchy, as Miss Cook had chastised him for getting blood on his shirt and made him change before dinner. As if he’d intentionally set out to injure himself and destroy his own clothing!
His stepmother continued, “I’ve decided to accompany your father to New York when he leaves, to see him settled. Miss Cook has kindly agreed to look after you all for a few days. Luce will come with us, of course.”
“Can I come, too?” Peter asked quickly, looking from his father to his stepmother. If he and Tunie failed, he wouldn’t be going to Camp Contraption, and if he wasn’t at camp when his father and stepmother left, he’d be stuck home alone with the beastly twins.
“Aw. Is the wittle baby scared to be left alone with us?” Larry taunted.
“Larry,” his mother said with disapproval.
Peter gritted his teeth, feeling a flash of fury. “I’d rather be locked in a cage with a grub-eating gorilla than in this house alone with you two. Compared with you, a hairy gorilla is positively
civilized.
”
“Peter!” Stepma and his father said at the same time.
“You’re the gorilla!” Larry shouted back, spitting a little, his narrow face turning red.
Peter’s anger got the best of him. He leaned over his soup toward Larry. “Compared with you, a gorilla is a towering intellectual! Compared with you, a gorilla is a model of hygiene!”
Larry lunged across the table and launched his bowl of soup so it splattered in Peter’s face.
Peter wiped his eyes with his sleeve and yelled, “At least a gorilla knows not to waste his food and only throws poo! Oh, wait, I forgot—you do that, too, you poo-flinging primate!”
Peter’s father stood and said at full volume, “That’s enough! All of you, to your rooms—now!”
Peter managed to keep the ham sandwiches hidden beneath his shirt as he folded his arms and stormed away. He heard his stepmother usher the twins into their rooms across the hall. In his bedroom, he took the sandwiches, wrapped in his cloth dinner napkin, and placed them in a wooden box so he didn’t crush them. He wished he had something more to bring—a thermos of hot chocolate, maybe. The metal thermos they’d had for years was up in a high kitchen cabinet, however; there would be no way to sneak it out.
The thought of the
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