Read Online Horus and the Curse of Everlasting Regret by Hannah Voskuil - Free Book Online Page A

thermos made Peter pause. He had a distant memory of his mother unscrewing the gleaming metal top and pouring chocolate milk into it. She sat on a picnic blanket beside his father, and there was a river nearby. She sang a song about rainbows. Peter thought he remembered chasing a duck and falling in the water. He must have been young. His throat began to tighten, and he pushed the memory away.
    He began packing a canvas bag with things he’d need for his meeting with Tunie, when a knock sounded on his door. Peter rapidly shoved the bag under his bed and sat at his desk with WindUp.
    “Come in!” Peter called.
    Peter’s dad walked in and sat on the bed, across from Peter. He took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt and put them back on, then took a deep breath. “That was quite a scene you made. Your stepmother is very upset.”
    Peter shrugged. To his dismay, he could feel the onset of tears again. He gripped WindUp tightly and said nothing.
    His father softly touched one of Peter’s clenched hands.
    “Listen,” he said, “I know it’s hard for you, having Stepma in the house. I know you miss your mom. There have been lots of changes here, and it will take a while to get used to them.” He cleared his throat. “I can tell that the twins are giving you a hard time.”
    “I hate them! They’re monsters!” Peter hadn’t planned on saying that, the words just burst out. “Living with them is worse than living in our old house without Mom!”
    Peter’s father shook his head. “They lost their dad just like we lost your mother. They’ve had a rough time, too. People handle things in…different ways. Try to be nice to them. For me. Please.”
    Peter didn’t want to argue with his father, so he only nodded. They’d been living with the twins for almost a year, and he hadn’t really considered that the twins might be missing their dad. They never mentioned him. Peter’s dad almost never mentioned his mother anymore, either. He wouldn’t play the music she’d loved on the record player. Sometimes that made it even harder, like she’d never been there in the first place. For a moment, Peter considered asking his dad about the picnic, and whether he’d fallen in the stream. Before he could summon the courage, his father stood and ruffled Peter’s hair.
    “All right. As punishment, you all will spend the rest of tonight in your rooms, and all day tomorrow helping Miss Cook clean the house.”
    Peter drooped. He should have known better than to yell at the terrible twins in front of his parents. Now he’d be losing a precious day of detective work because of it. His father gave Peter a hug and left the room, closing the door behind him.
    “Well, WindUp,” Peter said softly. “We’ll have to get as much done as possible tonight.” Peter felt slightly guilty about disobeying his father, but he had little choice.
    He set WindUp on the bed. The robot played two pleasant music box notes of agreement.

The smell of cinnamon buns wafted out of Eleanor’s Elegant Sweet Shoppe as Tunie opened the back door. She’d left her sleeping father right after dinner to come here. It was nearly dusk now, and the orange tone of the dying light made the June air seem even warmer. Tunie knew Miss Eleanor had the baker do as much baking as possible in the evenings during summer, to prevent the shop from growing too hot during the day.
    Perch flew up and hung under the eave near the door, sniffing appreciatively.
    “The alley’s not so stinky tonight,” Tunie said, smiling up at her bat. “Keep an eye out for that tomcat, okay?”
    Perch settled in comfortably, tucking his wings around him.
    Tunie stepped inside. The new baker glanced up from the tray of buns she was putting in the oven, saw that it was Tunie, and wordlessly returned to her work.
Not exactly the friendly sort,
Tunie thought. She was about to go up the stairs when Miss Eleanor swept in from the front of the shop with another woman. The woman