“Supposedly it is a degenerate form of Greek or Roman writing, Miss Vixen,” said Doctor Hind pointedly, “At least, that’s what Pindersley says.”
“So you’ve seen it before?”
“Not this particular inscription, but others in the same language are known. Where did you find it?”
“It was on a stone obelisk inside one of the statues that Basilisk broke; this is a rubbing of the inscription. My guess is the obelisk was what he was looking for. Any idea what it says?”
“Not really; the language has never been translated. But all the other examples trace to the third century A.D.”
“Third century, huh? Thanks, Doc.”
I left the building and headed toward the Foxwagen, taking note of the college guys watching me. It’s not every day you see a superhero on campus, and the skin-tight fox costume doesn’t hurt. I’m well aware of the effect my super-acrobatic body has on boys, and these guys are only a few years older than me.
As I drive away I wonder what to do next. Basilisk is in jail, and won’t tell anyone who paid him to trash the museum. What villain would be interested in artifacts from the third century? I’d have to check dad’s database; he keeps track of everyone. To the Fox’s Den it is.
The Crimson Fox addresses me from the entrance, “What are you doing, young lady? Why aren’t you in school?”
“It’s parent-teacher day; why aren’t you at school?”
“Our appointment isn’t until seven. What are you getting into now?”
“I fought Basilisk last night and found something funny. Now I’m trying to figure out who hired him.”
“You fought Basilisk? You could have been killed!”
“I won, dad. Anyway, he may be powerful but he’s really slow.”
“And he turns people to stone. I don’t want my daughter becoming a piece of statuary!”
“It’s not permanent, dad. And that’s why I move really fast. I got him to look into a mirror and rock himself.”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to have to be more careful, Victoria. I mean it.” He walks up and stares over my shoulder. “Now, what are you looking up?” “Miss Tyree? Emperor Vile? Centurion? Those are all A-list menaces! You are not going to take on any of them!”
“Dad! I wasn’t going after them; I just want to know who was trying to grab a third-century artifact I found. All three have ties to that time period. It’s for my report to the Council.”
“As long as you’re just reporting it. Now, what have you found?”
“Well, it’s not real Classical language, so I’m guessing it’s mystical. You know who that’s going to leave as the likely culprit: Miss Tyree. She claims to be the reincarnation of Morgan le Fay.”
“Among other things. Why her?”
“Well, I noticed something odd. Just like on the obelisk, her magic runes are divided horizontally: there’s text above the line, and one to five vertical strokes below the line.”