Stay a Spell Read online

  “But what about the pendant?” Abby says. “Ms. Tremt doesn’t mention it at all. So I guess our work is done here. We should probably head back home now.”

  “Probably,” I say. “But let’s just look around for five more minutes, okay?” I turn and look around. “Where’s Daniel?” I ask.

  Daniel has already run out of the store, so Abby and I rush after him.

  “It’s TR!” Daniel calls as soon as we get through the door. “He went that way!”

  We race down the street until we see Tim Raveltere in the distance. He looks around and then heads down an alley.

  “We’ve got him trapped,” Daniel says.

  “We’d better be careful,” I warn. “Or he’ll have us trapped.”

  “Let’s just go slowly and quietly and see what he’s up to,” Abby suggests.

  “Good idea,” I reply.

  We sneak over to the alley and Daniel leans around the corner to take a look. Luckily, Tim Raveltere’s back is turned toward us, so Daniel gestures for Abby and me to come take a look.

  Tim holds up his watch and taps it. The watch begins to glow, just like The Book of Memories, and a 3-D scene appears on the alley wall. From the hieroglyphics on the wall, we can tell it’s a scene from ancient Egypt. There’s a woman sitting on a golden throne.

  “Cleopatra,” Abby whispers. “I bet it’s her. Right, Daniel?”

  But Daniel doesn’t say a word. His eyes are wide and he’s taking everything in.

  Tim Raveltere steps into the scene. He disappears, and so does the scene on the wall.

  “Okay. Ancient Egypt, here we come,” I say, pulling out The Book of Memories.

  “Are you crazy?” Daniel says. “There’s not enough time!”

  “He’s right,” Abby agrees. “And there’s also the fact that we have no idea exactly what time it was in that scene.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly true,” Daniel admits. “It may be possible to figure that out.”

  “See?” I say. “He knows we should go.”

  “Hey, that’s not what I said,” Daniel protests. “I just said that . . .”

  “He said he figured out what time it was in that scene,” I say. “And we know Ms. Tremt is worried. We know Tim Raveltere is up to no good. He has that pendant Ms. Tremt wanted me to leave in 1977. Who knows what he’s going to do with it? We might be needed to save the world as we know it!”

  “Let’s not get crazy, Jada,” Abby says. “He might just be an old boyfriend Ms. Tremt is trying to avoid or something.”

  “Maybe,” I say. “But do you really want to take that chance? Because I don’t.”

  “Do you really want to sit here wasting time arguing with Jada?” Daniel laughs. “Because you know you’re not going to win that fight, Abby.”

  “That’s for sure.” Abby laughs too.

  I just hope I’m not leading my friends into a fight we can’t win.

  I still don’t think it’s a good idea to follow Tim,” Daniel says. “But there is a way to figure out exactly where he went.”

  “How?” Abby asks. “Are you a mind reader?”

  “No,” Daniel answers. “But remember—photographic memory?”

  “Ahhh,” I say. “That’s right, boy wonder.”

  Let me explain. It was actually funny when Abby said that we were too busy studying to know about music, because Daniel Chang never studies. At least, I’ve never seen him study. Daniel has one of those brains where once he looks at something, it just sticks. Forever. He’s kind of the reason I got the idea for the sticky notes for my brain. I know I’ll never match Daniel, but I figured it was worth a try.

  “I get the whole photographic memory and all,” Abby says. “But you’d have to see something to remember it. Something that would tell us the exact date and time. And unless I missed something, you didn’t.”

  “You missed something, Abby.” Daniel laughs. “Actually, you missed a couple of things.”

  “Spill, boy wonder,” Abby says.

  “Sure. You definitely don’t need a photographic memory to remember the first clue,” Daniel begins. “Did either of you notice something interesting about the woman sitting on the throne?”

  “You mean Cleopatra?” I ask.

  “We can’t just assume that,” Daniel says. “I just finished learning about ancient Egypt in my history class. So a lot of this is still fresh in my memory. There were other female rulers in ancient Egypt. Hatshepsut, Ahhotep, Nefertiti. But there were clues that it was Cleopatra.”

  “And they are . . . ?” I ask.

  “The Roman soldiers in the scene,” Daniel explains. “They’re Caesar’s Praetorian Guard. I could tell from their armor. That means it’s definitely Cleopatra sitting on the throne.”

  “Great,” Abby says. “Continue.”

  “I was talking about another clue,” Daniel said. “If you looked closely at the woman—at Cleopatra—you couldn’t have missed it. Did you notice where her hands were?”

  I close my eyes and try to remember the scene. It’s pretty blurry, but I think Cleopatra’s hands were folded on her stomach. Her very round stomach.

  “She’s pregnant!” I cry.

  “Ding! Ding! Ding!” Daniel chimes. “We have a winner!”

  Daniel explains that Cleopatra gave birth to the son of Julius Caesar, the Roman leader, in June in the year 47 BC.

  “Let’s go!” I say excitedly.

  “Jada, that doesn’t really change things,” Daniel says. “We have an idea of where to go, but our three hours are still almost up. We need to get back home.”

  “Our three hours in Hollywood, 1977, are almost up,” I remind him. “Ms. Tremt didn’t say anything about another time and place.”

  “Jada, listen to me,” Abby says. “I don’t want to get stuck in ancient Egypt because of a guess. We have twenty-seven minutes. If we can figure out exactly where Tim Raveltere traveled to in the next three minutes, I’ll agree to swing by there on the way home. But otherwise, no go.”

  “I’m pretty sure 47 BC is accurate. Cleopatra did have three other children later,” Daniel explains. “But because of the guards, I’m pretty sure this is the Caesar’s baby, and considering the size of her belly, I’m thinking this is sometime in the spring.”

  “Sometime in the spring isn’t close enough, Daniel,” Abby says. “We need to be precise if we want to find Tim Raveltere.”

  “I know,” Daniel says. “That’s where my photographic memory comes in. The rest you could have figured out on your own, if you were paying attention.”

  Daniel explains that the Egyptians had already been using a three-hundred-sixty-five-day calendar, like us, for a few thousand years at this point. In 47 BC, though, the new year started with January first for the first time, as Egyptians started to use the Roman calendar.

  “The civic calendar was carved on a stone slab,” Daniel continues. “The year was divided by season, and you could read the pictures on the calendar to tell the date.”

  “Are you going to get to the point soon?” I ask impatiently.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Daniel laughs. “It would be impossible for me to tell the date of the scene just by looking at the calendar. But there was a businessman there, and he was holding a scroll. I think it was a record of a tax payment, and the date was carved in the top.

  “If I remember the pictures of the date correctly . . . ,” Daniel says.

  “And you do . . . ,” Abby says.

  “Then I can match it to the pictures on the calendar . . . ,” Daniel continues.

  “Which you can . . . ,” I say.

  “And figure out that the date is May 27, 47 BC,” Daniel finishes.

  “You really are a boy wonder,” I say, impressed. “And that will get us close.”

  “But not close enough.” Abby frowns. “We need a time.”

  “Then I’m guessing you didn’t notice the tall pillar outside the windows?” Daniel says. “It’s a shadow clock. May 27, 47 BC, four p.m.”
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  I grab Daniel and give him a giant hug. He starts to squirm. Daniel is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, but I can’t help myself.

  We’re going to have to fit in to ancient Egypt, and we don’t have any clothing changes around, so it’s magic scarf time. I pull mine out and wrap it around my neck. Daniel starts to squirm even more.

  “Just bite the scarf bullet, Daniel,” Abby says. “We won’t tell anyone.”

  I pull out The Book of Memories and write the exact time and place on the card: May 27, 47 BC, 4 p.m. Cleopatra’s court, ancient Egypt. Then I open the book and place it against the alley wall.

  “Ready?” I say as the book starts to glow.

  “Set,” Abby says as it begins to swell.

  “Go!” Daniel shouts as Cleopatra’s court appears on the wall.

  We hold hands, a lot tighter than we did before, and step into the scene. I’ll admit, we’re all a little scared. I can speak for my friends because their palms are sweaty, and it’s kind of gross. I think it’s against the rules to bring hand sanitizer to ancient Egypt, though.

  We fortunately step right behind a giant stone statue, so it’s pretty easy to hide out and observe. I’m going to say that gold is a definite fashion trend in ancient Egypt. There’s a lot of gold in the room, and most of it is hanging off of Cleopatra. She’s also obviously a fan of the dramatic eyeliner look. I have to say, it’s not my style, but it is working for her.

  She doesn’t look anything like the pictures I’ve seen of her in books and at the museum. I know Cleopatra has been described as “a woman of incredible beauty,” and she almost always looks like some ancient Egyptian supermodel queen in movies. The real Cleopatra is definitely pretty, but I wouldn’t say that she’s supermodel beautiful. It’s more like an inner beauty that shows on the outside.

  You can tell she’s a very strong and proud woman. That’s a beautiful thing. When she smiles, she looks totally friendly and charming. Everyone around her smiles back, and it’s not because they’re afraid of her; it’s because they can’t help themselves.

  Her voice sounds powerful, but sweet, too. Incredibly, I understand what she’s saying, even though I definitely don’t know a word of ancient Egyptian. Ms. Tremt’s magical scarves definitely have more power than we thought.

  “Psst,” Abby whispers to me. “Over there.”

  Tim Raveltere is dressed so absurdly we almost blow our cover and laugh out loud. He’s wearing a striped head covering that flops down around his ears, gold armbands, and a white cloth wrapped around his waist. He looks pretty uncomfortable.

  “He’s holding the pendant,” Daniel whispers.

  “I wonder what he’s going to do with it,” I whisper back.

  Then I find out. Tim whispers something to one of the guards, who takes the pendant and puts it into a small golden box. Then he places the box on a high shelf.

  “Well, that’s easy enough,” Abby says. “Let’s get the pendant and go home.”

  “Easy?” Daniel complains. “How can it be easy when it’s up so high?”

  “Your photographic memory seems to have forgotten that our friend Abby is a baller,” I remind Daniel. “With a vertical jump more than two feet high.”

  “Maybe not quite that high without sneakers.” Abby laughs. “But definitely in reach.”

  “Just be careful, okay?” I say. “We don’t want Tim Raveltere to see your skills. He might want to use them for evil time-traveling purposes.”

  We wait until Cleopatra is speaking, when everyone’s attention is focused on her. Then Abby drops down to her stomach and snake-crawls across the stone floor from pillar to pillar. (She doesn’t have to, but I let her be dramatic because I know it makes her happy.) She waits at the last pillar until I give her the thumbs-up, letting her know the coast is clear. Then Abby jumps up, grabs the box, and takes out the pendant. Another jump and the box is back on the shelf. Abby snake-crawls her way back to us.

  “Eighteen minutes to spare,” Abby notes.

  “Can we say thirteen?” I laugh. “I need five more minutes. There are a couple of fashion tips I want to get from Cleopatra. Look at her—she’s styling!”

  “Are you serious?” Daniel asks incredulously. “Are you planning to bring gold headdresses back into style?”

  “Give her a break, Daniel,” Abby says, acting like a bestie. “We just pulled off something amazing. Jada can get a little fashion reward.”

  I see one of Cleopatra’s servants holding a tray with small pots and brushes.

  “Makeup set, definitely,” I say. “Come on, Abby. Let’s go talk some fashion with a real diva.”

  “I’ll be over there,” Daniel says. “I want to check out the shadow clock up close. It’s pretty cool.”

  Abby and I walk over to the servant.

  “Cleopatra asked me to touch up her eyeliner,” I tell the servant. “I’ll need that now.”

  He shockingly believes me and hands me the tray. We head over to Cleopatra, bowing and waving our arms. I have no idea how to act in front of a queen, so I just try to look really humble.

  “Forgive me, your line is fading,” I say, dipping a brush in black dye and holding it out to the queen.

  “Please, fix it,” Cleopatra says.

  “You are glowing with beauty,” I say as I brush the eyeliner onto her eyelid.

  Cleopatra smiles so brightly I have to look away.

  “Thank you,” she says and smooths her hair. “Is there anything else?”

  “Just one little thing,” I say. “Kind queen, I humbly ask your advice. I have a festival to go to next week, and I’m not sure if I should wear my hair up or down.”

  “Up,” Cleopatra says. “Your cheekbones are striking. It will make them stand out.”

  “Great,” I say. “And dress color? Any ideas?”

  Cleopatra takes my hand and pulls me in front of her. She looks me up and down. I realize that I have no idea what she’s looking at because the scarf is cloaking me in ancient Egyptian clothing.

  “Well, this shade of green is all wrong on you,” Cleopatra says. “It makes you look sickly. Are you sick?”

  “No!” I say. “Not at all.”

  Cleopatra calls to a servant, who brings over a box filled with a variety of colored fabrics. The Egyptian queen starts picking out different swatches and holding them up to me.

  “She does look pretty in pink,” Cleo says. She turns to Abby. “Do you agree?”

  “Yes, it’s a good color for her,” Abby says. “But I don’t think it’s her best.”

  “No, you’re right,” Cleo says. “What about something metallic?”

  “Ooooh, silver and gold,” Abby says. “Great idea. I like it!”

  At this point Daniel is pointing to the shadow clock and generally freaking out. I realize that Cleopatra could go on and on and on. I’m not sure about the silver and gold idea, but I’m going to have to end the conversation.

  “I love that idea,” I gush. “Of course, not as much gold as a queen; maybe just a little highlight of sparkle here and there.”

  “Exactly!” Cleopatra agrees. “Now, please, make sure my bath is ready.”

  “Of course!” I say, pulling Abby along.

  We grab Daniel on our way and head out of the room to find a private spot where we can transport home. And that’s when Tim Raveltere spots us.

  So now I’m thinking that Daniel was right—I should not have spent those extra five minutes talking to Cleopatra, because it looks like we’re going to really need them. This is T-R-O-U-B-L-E with a capital T, and all the other letters too.

  Tim Raveltere taps the guards and angrily points to us.

  I try to wave them off, but they are clearly not taking orders from me.

  Cleopatra appears behind them in the hallway.

  “What does she have in her hands?” the Egyptian queen demands. “Get it for me, now!”

  The guards storm toward us. Abby starts to whimper. I can feel my heart beating
so hard it might explode from my chest and fall onto the cold, stone floor. I turn to Daniel, hoping beyond hope that he will have some genius idea inspired by Star Wars or some other epic sci-fi movie that will save us from becoming prisoners of ancient Egypt for all time. Because if we pull our scarves off right now, in front of Cleopatra and her whole court, something even worse could happen. People would start talking about the mysterious kids who disappeared. History would change. It’s just too dangerous.

  “I’ve got you now, minions.” Tim Raveltere snickers. He sounds so incredibly evil and silly at the same time that the three of us just stop and stare at him.

  “Minions?” Abby says incredulously. “We’re not your minions.”

  “No, I didn’t mean my minions, silly girl,” Tim Raveltere says. “Minions of that wacky whirlwind Valerie Tremt! Isn’t that what you are? Well, she won’t be able to limit time-travel continuum to her favorite students any longer. In my hands, The Book of Memories will transform history—the way I want it!”

  My mind goes to the one place it always goes when I’m scared, or tired, or sick. Mom. MOM! my brain screams. HELP!

  I focus on a psychic message and send it to her. I don’t believe it will help, but I didn’t believe in time travel until a day ago, either.

  Mom, I don’t know how you’re going to fix this, but if you do, I promise I will study spelling words night and day, I swear. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mom. Just please get us out of here.

  I quietly take The Book of Memories out of my back pocket, because I figure we’re going to need it quickly if we’re going to escape. And the book starts to glow. The ten-minute warning! We have ten minutes left to get out of here, or be stuck in ancient Egypt forever.

  But one of the guards spots the glowing book and starts to reach for it. Just as he’s about to grab The Book of Memories out of my hand, Daniel pops in.

  “Excuse me,” Daniel says, interrupting my thoughts as he grabs a pot off the makeup tray. “Jada, Abby, follow my lead.”

  Abby and I both stare blankly at him.

  “Grab a pot!” Daniel yells.

  I grab a pot and resign myself to the fact that I’m going to spend the rest of my days locked in a jail cell in ancient Egypt, holding a pot of kohl. If I’m lucky.