mother’s ‘half-hours’ were always at least three hours long. And, whilst Rose usually resented this, today she was grateful. Grateful because Alex and Aries needed her mother’s exceptional talents to restore the caryatid to perfection so that they would be able to return home. After all, if anyone understood what it meant when people were lost far from home, it was Rose. Collecting her rucksack she slipped out of the room and down the museum’s back stairs, out onto the street and heading towards the nearest supermarket.
Three jars of olives, two packets of salty biscuits, four rounds of cheese sandwiches, six bags of saltand vinegar crisps, an entire box of iced cakes, two bottles of pop and a bar of fruit and nut chocolate later, Alex and Aries felt much brighter. Whilst they had been eating, Rose had been busily rootling around the shelves, trying to find some suitably old paper to try and patch up the Scroll. She’d felt certain there’d be some old scrap of papyrus or calfskin lying around down here, but ten minutes later all she’d turned up was a faded teen magazine, jammed between two suitcases that had probably been left behind by a bored archivist years ago. Had her mother have been there, she would have instructed Rose to be put the magazine back, be patient, find the appropriate materials, match the gaps exactly and use a special acid-free glue. But she wasn’t. Consequently, Rose, never the most patient girl in the world and hugely excited to be holding a real actual All-Knowing Scroll, had mended it her own way. I use the term ‘mended’ loosely, because as Rose now held it up to admire her handiwork, the Scroll hung in crumples, one corner higher than the other, a patchwork of parchment, sticky tape and glossy paper.
“And this can really tell you the answer to any question?” Rose said, hardly believing the words herself.
Alex looked up and frowned. “Well, it used to,” he said uncertainly.
“Brilliant!” said Rose, her heart beginning to drum behind her ribs. Drawing the Scroll up to her mouth she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Scroll,” she whispered, “please tell me what happened to my fath—”
“No!” Aries knocked the Scroll out of her hand with his horns. It gave a little yelp, tumbled to the floor, snapped shut and rolled under the nearest shelf.
Rose snapped open her eyes, shocked. “What did you do that for?”
“
Four
questions!” muttered Aries, hunching down to peer for the Scroll in the dusty shadows. “That’s all it’s got. We can’t afford to waste them.”
“It wouldn’t have been a waste,” said Rose.
“Not to you,” said Alex gently, noticing her glistening eyes. “It must have been something important?”
Rose stared at the floor in silence.
There was a clattering as Aries pulled the Scroll out from under a shelf and rolled it back towards Alex. Seeing Rose’s face he sank his head onto her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his muzzle againsther ear. “But if I’m going to find my fleece we need all the help we can get.”
Despite her disappointment, Rose smiled. After all, it’s not every day you have a talking ram apologise damply in your ear and, quite apart from the novelty, it tickles deliciously.
“Look,” said Alex. “Tell you what. If we can find the fleece in three questions…”
A smile lit Rose’s face. “You’ll give me the last one?”
Alex nodded.
“Then I’ll help you,” said Rose. “I know far more about Earth than the Scroll can tell you in so few questions.”
“Let’s make a start then,” said Alex, gently unfurling the Scroll. Holding his face in a suitably solemn expression, he began.
“Scrollius lapidus, exalto Greco…”
“Ancient Greek,” whispered Aries to Rose. “I don’t know why he’s using that since the Scroll speaks all languages. Probably showing off.”
“Do you mind?” snapped Alex. “I am speaking to the Scroll in Ancient Greek to comfort
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