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Informationen zum Autor R.L. LaFevers lives in Southern California. Learn more at her website: http://www.rllafevers.com/ Yoko Tanaka lives in Los Angeles and Bangkok with her husband and three cats. In addition to illustrating the Theodosia books, she has also illustrated The Magician’s Elephant by Kate DiCamillo and a picture book, Sparrow Girl by Sara Pennypacker. Her artwork can be found at yokotanaka.com Klappentext Theodosia Throckmorton is in a fix. Allowed to attend a reception given by one of the directors of her parents' museum, she stumbles across Mr. Tetley of the British Museum?in most unusual circumstances! Since Theo has last seen him in a showdown in an ancient Egyptian tomb, his reappearance could mean only one thing: the Serpents of Chaos are back. In this second book in the popular series, Theodosia will once again have to take on secret societies, evil curses, and magic too sinister to imagine, especially if it falls into the wrong hands. Blocked at every turn, Theodosia will have to rely on her own skill and cunning?along with a little help from the most unexpected places. This highly praised, exciting middle grade series is a must for fans of mysteries, humor, and nonstop action. Chapter One: A Grand Fete The lace on my party frock itched horribly. I don’t understand how they can make things as complex as motorcars or machines that fly but can’t invent itchless lace. Although Mother didn’t seem to be plagued with this problem, I would have to pay close attention to the other ladies at the reception this evening to see if they exhibit any symptoms. “You’re surprisingly quiet, Theodosia,” Father said, interrupting my thoughts. “Surprisingly”? Whatever did he mean by that, I wonder? “I would have thought you’d be chattering a mile a minute about Lord Chudleigh’s reception.” Tonight was to be my big introduction to professional life. And I planned to savor every second of it. I would be the first eleven-year-old girl ever to walk in their midst. What if they should ask me to make a speech? Wouldn’t that be grand? I would stand there, with all eyes on me—keepers and lords and sirs and all sorts of fancy folk—and then I would . . . have to say something. Maybe having to speak wouldn’t be such a great idea after all. Mother put her gloved hand on Father’s arm. “She’s most likely nervous, Alistair. The only young girl among so many important dignitaries and officials? I would have been tongue-tied at her age.” Well. That wasn’t very comforting. Maybe I should have been more nervous than I was. The carriage turned a corner and my stomach dipped uneasily. We reached Lord Chudleigh’s residence in Mayfair, a large red brick mansion with white columns and windowpanes. At the door, a butler bowed and greeted Father by name. Then we were motioned inside, where we joined an absolutely mad throng of people, all dressed in fine frocks and evening coats. There were marble floors, and the hallway sported Greek columns. Actually, the whole place had the touch of a museum about it: Grecian urns, a bust of Julius Caesar, and even a full coat of armor standing at attention. Suddenly I was glad of all that itchy lace—otherwise I would have felt dreadfully underdressed. I slipped my hand into Mother’s. “Lord Chudleigh’s house is even grander than Grandmother Throckmorton’s,” I whispered. “Don’t let her hear you say that,” Father said. “How could she possibly hear me?” I scoffed. “She’s miles away in her own grand house.” The look on Father’s face gave me pause. “Isn’t she?” I asked hesitantly. “I’m afraid not.” His tone was clipped, as if he wasn’t very happy about it, either. “She moves in the same social circles as Lord Chudleigh.” That was the sort of news that could ruin an entire evening. One might think that was a bit of an overstatement, if one didn’t know my grandmother. ...
