The Red Pyramid(The Kane Chronicles, Book 1)

Chapter 34. Doughboy Gives Us a Ride


I SUMMONED DAD’S MAGIC TOOLKIT out of the Duat and grabbed our little legless friend. “Doughboy, we need to talk.”
Doughboy opened his wax eyes. ““Finally! You realize how stuffy it is in there? At last you’ve remembered that you need my brilliant guidance.”
“Actually we need you to become a coat. Just for a while.”
His tiny mouth fell open. “Do I look like an article of clothing? I am the lord of all knowledge! The mighty—”
I smashed him into my jacket, wadded it up, threw it on the pavement and stepped on it. “Zia, what’s that spell?”
She told me the words, and I repeated the chant. The coat inflated and hovered in front of me. It brushed itself off and ruffled its collar. If coats can look indignant, this one did.
Sadie eyed it suspiciously. “Can it drive a lorry with no feet for the pedals?”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Zia said. “It’s a nice long coat.”
I sighed with relief. For a moment, I’d imagined myself having to animate my pants, too. That could get awkward.
“Drive us to Phoenix,” I told the coat.
The coat made a rude gesture at me—or at least, it would’ve been rude if the coat had hands. Then it floated into the driver’s seat.
The cab was bigger than I’d thought. Behind the seat was a curtained area with a full-size bed, which Sadie claimed immediately.
“I’ll let you and Zia have some quality time,” she told me. “Just the two of you and your coat.”
She ducked behind the curtains before I could smack her.
The coat drove us west on I-10 as a bank of dark clouds swallowed the stars. The air smelled like rain.
After a long time, Zia cleared her throat. “Carter, I’m sorry about...I mean, I wish the circumstances were better.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I guess you’ll get in a lot of trouble with the House.”
“I will be shunned,” she said. “My staff broken. My name blotted from the books. I’ll be cast into exile, assuming they don’t kill me.”
I thought about Zia’s little shrine in the First Nome—all those pictures of her village and her family that she didn’t remember. As she talked about getting exiled, she had the same expression on her face that she had worn then: not regret or sadness, more like confusion, as if she herself couldn’t figure out why she was rebelling, or what the First Nome had meant to her. She’d said Iskandar was like her only family. Now she had no one.
“You could come with us,” I said.
She glanced over. We were sitting close together, and I was very aware of her shoulder pressing against mine. Even with the reek of burned peppers on both of us, I could smell her Egyptian perfume. She had a dried chili stuck in her hair, and somehow that made her look even cuter.
Sadie says my brain was just addled. [Seriously, Sadie, I don’t interrupt this much when you’re telling the story.]
Anyway, Zia looked at me sadly. “Where would we go, Carter? Even if you defeat Set and save this continent, what will you do? The House will hunt you down. The gods will make your life miserable.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I promised. “I’m used to traveling. I’m good at improvising, and Sadie’s not all bad.”
“I heard that!” Sadie’s muffled voice came through the curtain.
“And with you,” I continued, “I mean, you know, with your magic, things would be easier.”
Zia squeezed my hand, which sent a tingle up my arm. “You’re kind, Carter. But you don’t know me. Not really. I suppose Iskandar saw this coming.”
“What do you mean?”
Zia took her hand away, which kind of bummed me out. “When Desjardins and I came back from the British Museum, Iskandar spoke to me privately. He said I was in danger. He said he would take me somewhere safe and...” Her eyebrows knit together. “That’s odd. I don’t remember.”
A cold feeling started gnawing at me. “Wait, did he take you somewhere safe?”
“I...I think so.” She shook her head. “No, he couldn’t have, obviously. I’m still here. Perhaps he didn’t have time. He sent me to find you in New York almost immediately.”
Outside, a light rain began to fall. The coat turned on our windshield wipers.
I didn’t understand what Zia had told me. Perhaps Iskandar had sensed a change in Desjardins, and he was trying to protect his favorite student. But something else about the story bothered me—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Zia stared into the rain as if she saw bad things out there in the night.
“We’re running out of time,” she said. “He’s coming back.”
“Who’s coming back?”
She looked at me urgently. “The thing I needed to tell you—the thing you need. It’s Set’s secret name.”
The storm surged. Thunder crackled and the truck shuddered in the wind.
“H-hold on,” I stammered. “How could you know Set’s name? How did you even know we needed it?”
“You stole Desjardins’ book. Desjardins told us about it. He said it didn’t matter. He said you could not use the spell without Set’s secret name, which is impossible to get.”
“So how do you know it? Thoth said it could only come from Set himself, or from the person...” My voice trailed off as a horrible thought occurred to me. “Or from the person closest to him.”
Zia shut her eyes as if in pain. “I—I can’t explain it, Carter. I just have this voice telling me the name—”
“The fifth goddess,” I said, “Nephthys. You were there too at the British Museum.”
Zia looked completely stunned. “No. That’s impossible.”
“Iskandar said you were in danger. He wanted to take you somewhere safe. That’s what he meant. You’re a godling.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “But he didn’t take me away. I’m right here. If I were hosting a god, the other magicians of the House would’ve figured it out days ago. They know me too well. They would’ve noticed the changes in my magic. Desjardins would’ve destroyed me.”
She had a point—but then another terrible thought occurred to me. “Unless Set is controlling him,” I said.
“Carter, are you really so blind? Desjardins is not Set.”
“Because you think it’s Amos,” I said. “Amos who risked his life to save us, who told us to keep going without him. Besides, Set doesn’t need a human form. He’s using the pyramid.”
“Which you know because...?”
I hesitated. “Amos told us.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Zia said. “I know Set’s secret name, and I can tell you. But you must promise you will not tell Amos.”
“Oh, come on. Besides, if you know the name, why can’t you just use it yourself?”
She shook her head, looking almost as frustrated as I felt. “I don’t know why....I just know it’s not my role to play. It must be you or Sadie—blood of the pharaohs. If you don’t—”
The truck slowed abruptly. Out the front windshield, about twenty yards ahead, a man in a blue coat was standing in our headlights. It was Amos. His clothes were tattered like he’d been sprayed with a shotgun, but otherwise he looked okay. Before the truck had even stopped completely, I jumped out of the cab and ran to meet him.
“Amos!” I cried. “What happened?”
“I distracted Sekhmet,” he said, putting a finger through one of the holes in his coat. “For about eleven seconds. I’m glad to see you survived.”
“There was a salsa factory,” I started to explain, but Amos held up his hand.
“Time for explanations later,” he said. “Right now we have to get going.”
He pointed northwest, and I saw what he meant. The storm was worse up ahead. A lot worse. A wall of black blotted out the night sky, the mountains, the highway, as if it would swallow the whole world.
“Set’s storm is gathering,” Amos said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Shall we drive into it?”
SADIE
35. Men Ask for Directions (and Other Signs of the Apocalypse)


I DON’T KNOW HOW I MANAGED IT with Carter and Zia yammering, but I got some sleep in the back of the truck. Even after the excitement of seeing Amos alive, as soon as we got going again I was back in the bunk and drifting off. I suppose a good ha-di spell can really take it out of you.
Naturally, my ba took this as an opportunity to travel. Heaven forbid I get some peaceful rest.
I found myself back in London, on the banks of the Thames. Cleopatra’s Needle rose up in front of me. It was a gray day, cool and calm, and even the smell of the low-tide muck made me feel homesick.
Isis stood next to me in a cloud-white dress, her dark hair braided with diamonds. Her multicolored wings faded in and out behind her like the Northern Lights.
“Your parents had the right idea,” she said. “Bast was failing.”
“She was my friend,” I said.
“Yes. A good and loyal servant. But chaos cannot be kept down forever. It grows. It seeps into the cracks of civilization, breaks down the edges. It cannot be kept in balance. That is simply its nature.”
The obelisk rumbled, glowing faintly.
“Today it is the American continent,” Isis mused. “But unless the gods are rallied, unless we achieve our full strength, chaos will soon destroy the entire human world.”
“We’re doing our best,” I insisted. “We’ll beat Set.”
Isis looked at me sadly. “You know that’s not what I mean. Set is only the beginning.”
The image changed, and I saw London in ruins. I’d seen some horrific photos of the Blitz in World War II, but that was nothing compared to this. The city was leveled: rubble and dust for miles, the Thames choked with flotsam. The only thing standing was the obelisk, and as I watched, it began to crack open, all four sides peeling away like some ghastly flower unfolding.
“Don’t show me this,” I pleaded.
“It will happen soon enough,” Isis said, “as your mother foresaw. But if you cannot face it...”
The scene changed again. We stood in the throne room of a palace—the same one I’d seen before, where Set had entombed Osiris. The gods were gathering, materializing as streams of light that shot through the throne room, curled round the pillars, and took on human form. One became Thoth with his stained lab coat, his wire-rimmed glasses, and his hair standing out all over his head. Another became Horus, the proud young warrior with silver and gold eyes. Sobek, the crocodile god, gripped his watery staff and snarled at me. A mass of scorpions scuttled behind a column and emerged on the other side as Serqet, the brown-robed arachnid goddess. Then my heart leaped, because I noticed a boy in black standing in the shadows behind the throne: Anubis, his dark eyes studying me with regret.
He pointed at the throne, and I saw it was empty. The palace was missing its heart. The room was cold and dark, and it was impossible to believe this had once been a place of celebrations.
Isis turned to me. “We need a ruler. Horus must become pharaoh. He must unite the gods and the House of Life. It is the only way.”
“You can’t mean Carter,” I said. “My mess of a brother—pharaoh? Are you joking?”
“We have to help him. You and I.”
The idea was so ridiculous I would have laughed had the gods not been staring at me so gravely.
“Help him?” I said. “Why doesn’t he help me become pharaoh?”
“There have been strong women pharaohs,” Isis admitted. “Hatshepsut ruled well for many years. Nefertiti’s power was equal to her husband’s. But you have a different path, Sadie. Your power will not come from sitting on a throne. I think you know this.”
I looked at the throne, and I realized Isis had a point. The idea of sitting there with a crown on my head, trying to rule this lot of bad-tempered gods, did not appeal to me in the slightest. Still...Carter?
“You’ve grown strong, Sadie,” Isis said. “I don’t think you realize how strong. Soon, we will face the test together. We will prevail, if you maintain your courage and faith.”
“Courage and faith,” I said. “Not my two strong suits.”
“Your moment comes,” Isis said. “We depend on you.”
The gods gathered round, staring at me expectantly. They began to crowd in, pressing so close I couldn’t breathe, grabbing my arms, shaking me....


I woke to find Zia poking my shoulder. “Sadie, we’ve stopped.”
I instinctively reached for my wand. “What? Where?”
Zia pushed aside the curtains of the sleeping berth and leaned over me from the front seat, unnervingly like a vulture. “Amos and Carter are in the gas station. You need to be prepared to move.”
“Why?” I sat up and looked out the windshield, straight into a raging sandstorm. “Oh...”
The sky was black, so it was impossible to tell if it was day or night. Through the gale of wind and sand, I could see we were parked in front of a lighted petrol station.
“We’re in Phoenix,” Zia said, “but most of the city is shut down. People are evacuating.”
“Time?”
“Half past four in the morning,” Zia said. “Magic isn’t working very well. The closer we get to the mountain, the worse it is. And the truck’s GPS system is down. Amos and Carter went inside to ask directions.”
That didn’t sound promising. If two male magicians were desperate enough to stop for directions, we were in dire straits.
The truck’s cab shook in the howling wind. After all we’d been through, I felt silly being scared of a storm, but I climbed over the seat so I could sit next to Zia and have some company.
“How long have they been in there?” I asked.
“Not long,” Zia said. “I wanted to talk to you before they come back.”
I raised an eyebrow. “About Carter? Well, if you’re wondering whether he likes you, the way he stammers might be an indication.”
Zia frowned. “No, I’m—”
“Asking if I mind? Very considerate. I must say at first I had my doubts, what with you threatening to kill us and all, but I’ve decided you’re not a bad sort, and Carter’s mad about you, so—”
“It’s not about Carter.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Oops. Could you just forget what I said, then?”
“It’s about Set.”
“God,” I sighed. “Not this again. Still suspicious of Amos?”
“You’re blind not to see it,” Zia said. “Set loves deception and traps. It is his favorite way to kill.”
Part of me knew she had a point. No doubt you’ll think I was foolish not to listen. But have you ever sat by while someone talks badly about a member of your family? Even if it’s not your favorite relative, the natural reaction is to defend them—at least it was for me, possibly because I didn’t have that much family to begin with. “Look, Zia, I can’t believe Amos would—”
“Amos wouldn’t,” Zia agreed. “But Set can bend the mind and control the body. I’m not a specialist on possession, but it was a very common problem in ancient times. Minor demons are difficult enough to dislodge. A major god—”
“He’s not possessed. He can’t be.” I winced. A sharp pain was burning in my palm, in the spot where I’d last held the feather of truth. But I wasn’t telling a lie! I did believe Amos was innocent...didn’t I?
Zia studied my expression. “You need Amos to be all right. He is your uncle. You’ve lost too many members of your family. I understand that.”
I wanted to snap back that she didn’t understand anything, but her tone made me suspect she had known grief—possibly even more than I.
“We’ve got no choice,” I said. “There’s what, three hours till sunrise? Amos knows the best way into the mountain. Trap or no, we have to go there and try to stop Set.”
I could almost see the gears spinning in her head as she searched for some way, any way to convince me.
“All right,” she said at last. “I wanted to tell Carter something but I never got the opportunity. I’ll tell you instead. The last thing you need to stop Set—”
“You couldn’t possibly know his secret name.”
Zia held my gaze. Maybe it was the feather of truth, but I was certain she wasn’t bluffing. She did have the name of Set. Or at least, she believed she did.
And honestly, I’d overheard bits of her conversation with Carter while I was in the back of the cab. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to. I looked at Zia, and tried to believe she was hosting Nephthys, but it didn’t make any sense. I’d spoken with Nephthys. She’d told me she was far away in some sort of sleeping host. And Zia was right here in front of me.
“It will work,” Zia insisted. “But I can’t do it. It must be you.”
“Why not use it yourself?” I demanded. “Because you spent all your magic?”
She waved away the question. “Just promise me you will use it now, on Amos, before we reach the mountain. It may be your only chance.”
“And if you’re wrong, we waste the only chance we have. The book disappears once it’s used, right?”
Grudgingly, Zia nodded. “Once read, the book will dissolve and appear somewhere else in the world. But if you wait any longer, we’re doomed. If Set lures you into his base of power, you’ll never have the strength to confront him. Sadie, please—”
“Tell me the name,” I said. “I promise I’ll use it at the right time.”
“Now is the right time.”
I hesitated, hoping Isis would drop some words of wisdom, but the goddess was silent. I don’t know if I would’ve relented. Perhaps things would’ve turned out differently if I’d agreed to Zia’s plan. But before I could make that choice, the truck’s doors opened, and Amos and Carter climbed in with a gust of sand.
“We’re close.” Amos smiled as if this were good news. “Very, very close.”
SADIE
36. Our Family Is Vaporized


LESS THAN A MILE FROM Camelback Mountain, we broke through into a circle of perfect calm.
“Eye of the storm,” Carter guessed.
It was eerie. All around the mountain swirled a cylinder of black clouds. Traces of smoke drifted back and forth from Camelback’s peak to the edges of the maelstrom like the spokes of a wheel, but directly above us, the sky was clear and starry, beginning to turn gray. Sunrise wasn’t far off.
The streets were empty. Mansions and hotels clustered round the mountain’s base, completely dark; but the mountain itself glowed. Ever hold your hand over a torch (sorry, a flashlight for you Americans) and watch the way your skin glows red? That’s the way the mountain looked: something very bright and hot was trying to burn through the rock.
“Nothing’s moving on the streets,” Zia said. “If we try to drive up to the mountain—”
“We’ll be seen,” I said.
“What about that spell?” Carter looked at Zia. “You know...the one you used in the First Nome.”
“What spell?” I asked.
Zia shook her head. “Carter is referring to an invisibility spell. But I have no magic. And unless you have the proper components, it can’t be done on a whim.”
“Amos?” I asked.
He pondered the question. “No invisibility, I’m afraid. But I have another idea.”


I thought turning into a bird was bad, until Amos turned us into storm clouds.
He explained what he was going to do in advance, but it didn’t make me any less nervous.
“No one will notice a few wisps of black cloud in the midst of a storm,” he reasoned.
“But this is impossible,” Zia said. “This is storm magic, chaos magic. We should not—”
Amos raised his wand, and Zia disintegrated.
“No!” Carter yelled, but then he too was gone, replaced by a swirl of black dust.
Amos turned to me.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Thanks, but—”
Poof. I was a storm cloud. Now, that may sound amazing to you, but imagine your hands and feet disappearing, turning into wisps of wind. Imagine your body replaced by dust and vapor, and having a tingly feeling in your stomach without even having a stomach. Imagine having to concentrate just to keep yourself from dispersing to nothing.
I got so angry, a flash of lightning crackled inside me.
“Don’t be that way,” Amos chided. “It’s only for a few minutes. Follow me.”
He melted into a heavier, darker bit of storm and raced towards the mountain. Following wasn’t easy. At first I could only float. Every wind threatened to take some part of me away. I tried swirling and found it helped keep my particles together. Then I imagined myself filling with helium, and suddenly I was off.
I couldn’t be sure if Carter and Zia were following or not. When you’re a storm, your vision isn’t human. I could vaguely sense what was around me, but what I “saw” was scattered and fuzzy, as if through heavy static.
I headed towards the mountain, which was an almost irresistible beacon to my storm self. It glowed with heat, pressure, and turbulence—everything a little dust devil like me could want.
I followed Amos to a ridge on the side of the mountain, but I returned to human form a little too soon. I tumbled out of the sky and knocked Carter to the ground.
“Ouch,” he groaned.
“Sorry,” I offered, though mostly I was concentrating on not getting sick. My stomach still felt like it was mostly storm.
Zia and Amos stood next to us, peeping into a crevice between two large sandstone boulders. Red light seeped from within and made their faces look devilish.
Zia turned to us. Judging from her expression, what she’d seen wasn’t good. “Only the pyramidion left.”
“The what?” I looked through the crevice, and the view was almost as disorienting as being a storm cloud. The entire mountain was hollowed out, just as Carter had described. The cavern floor was about six hundred meters below us. Fires blazed everywhere, bathing the rock walls in blood-colored light. A giant crimson pyramid dominated the cave, and at its base, masses of demons milled about like a rock concert crowd waiting for the show to begin. High above them, eye-level to us, two magic barges manned by crews of demons floated slowly, ceremoniously towards the pyramid. Suspended in a mesh of ropes between the boats was the only piece of the pyramid not yet installed—a golden capstone to top off the structure.
“They know they’ve won,” Carter guessed. “They’re making a show of it.”
“Yes,” Amos said.
“Well, let’s blow up the boats or something!” I said.
Amos looked at me. “Is that your strategy, honestly?”
His tone made me feel completely stupid. Looking down on the demon army, the enormous pyramid...what had I been thinking? I couldn’t battle this. I was a bloody twelve-year-old.
“We have to try,” Carter said. “Dad’s in there.”
That shook me out of my self-pity. If we were going to die, at least we would do it trying to rescue my father (oh, and North America, too, I suppose).
“Right,” I said. “We fly to those boats. We stop them from placing the capstone—”
“Pyramidion,” Zia corrected.
“Whatever. Then we fly into the pyramid and find Dad.”
“And when Set tries to stop you?” Amos asked.
I glanced at Zia, who was silently warning me not to say more.
“First things first,” I said. “How do we fly to the boats?”
“As a storm,” Amos suggested.
“No!” the rest of us said.
“I will not be part of more chaos magic,” Zia insisted. “It is not natural.”
Amos waved at the spectacle below us. “Tell me this is natural. You have another plan?”
“Birds,” I said, hating myself for even considering it. “I’ll become a kite. Carter can do a falcon.”
“Sadie,” Carter warned, “what if—”
“I have to try.” I looked away before I could lose my resolve. “Zia, it’s been almost ten hours since your pillar of fire, hasn’t it? Still no magic?”
Zia held out her hand and concentrated. At first, nothing happened. Then red light flickered along her fingers, and her staff appeared in her grip, still smoking.
“Good timing,” Carter said.
“Also bad timing,” Amos observed. “It means Desjardins is no longer pursued by the pillar of fire. He’ll be here soon, and I’m sure he’ll bring backup. More enemies for us.”
“My magic will still be weak,” Zia warned. “I won’t be much help in a fight, but I can perhaps manage to summon a ride.” She brought out the vulture pendant she’d used at Luxor.
“Which leaves me,” Amos said. “No worries there. Let’s meet on the left boat. We’ll take that one out, then deal with the right. And let’s hope for surprise.”
I wasn’t in the mood to let Amos set our plans, but I couldn’t find any fault with his logic. “Right. We’ll have to finish the boats off quickly, then head into the pyramid itself. Perhaps we can seal off the entrance or something.”
Carter nodded. “Ready.”
At first, the plan seemed to go well. Turning into a kite was no problem, and to my surprise, once I reached the prow of the ship, I managed to turn back into a human on the first try, with my staff and wand ready. The only person more surprised was the demon right in front of me, whose switchblade head popped straight up in alarm.
Before he could slice me or even cry out, I summoned wind from my staff and blew him off the side of the boat. Two of his brethren charged forward, but Carter appeared behind them, sword drawn, and sliced them into piles of sand.
Unfortunately, Zia was a bit less stealthy. A giant vulture with a girl hanging from its feet tends to attract attention. As she flew towards the boat, demons below pointed and yelled. Some threw spears that fell short of their mark.
Zia’s grand entrance did manage to distract the remaining two demons on our boat, however, which allowed Amos to appear behind them. He’d taken the form of a fruit bat, which brought back bad memories; but he quickly returned to human form and body-slammed the demons, sending them tumbling into the air.
“Hold on!” he told us. Zia landed just in time to grab the tiller. Carter and I grabbed the sides of the boat. I had no idea what Amos was planning, but after my last flying boat ride, I wasn’t taking chances. Amos began to chant, pointing his staff towards the other boat, where the demons were just beginning to shout and point at us.
One of them was tall and very thin, with black eyes and a disgusting face, like muscle with the skin peeled away.
“That’s Set’s lieutenant,” Carter warned. “Face of Horror.”
“You!” the demon screamed. “Get them!”
Amos finished his spell. “Smoke,” he intoned.
Instantly, the second boat evaporated into gray mist. The demons fell screaming. The golden capstone plummeted until the lines attached to it from our side yanked taut, and our boat nearly flipped over. Canted sideways, we began to sink towards the cavern floor.
“Carter, cut the lines!” I screamed.
He sliced them with his sword, and the boat leveled out, rising several meters in an instant and leaving my stomach behind.
The pyramidion crashed to the cavern floor with much crunching and squishing. I had the feeling we’d just made a nice stack of demon griddlecakes.
“So far so good,” Carter noted, but as usual, he’d spoken too soon.
Zia pointed below us. “Look.”
All those demons who had wings—a small percentage, but still a good forty or fifty—had launched themselves towards us, filling the air like a swarm of angry wasps.
“Fly to the pyramid,” Amos said. “I’ll distract the demons.”
The pyramid’s entrance, a simple doorway between two columns at the base of the structure, was not far from us. It was guarded by a few demons, but most of Set’s forces were running towards our boat, screaming and throwing rocks (which tended to fall back down and hit them, but no one says demons are bright).
“They’re too many,” I argued. “Amos, they’ll kill you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said grimly. “Seal the entrance behind you.”
He pushed me over the side, giving me no choice but to turn into a kite. Carter in falcon form was already spiraling towards the entrance, and I could hear Zia’s vulture flapping its great wings behind us.
I heard Amos yell, “For Brooklyn!”
It was an odd battle cry. I glanced back, and the boat burst into flames. It began drifting away from the pyramid and down towards the army of monsters. Fireballs shot from the boat in all directions as pieces of the hull crumbled away. I didn’t have time to marvel at Amos’s magic, or worry what had happened to him. He distracted many of the demons with his pyrotechnics, but some noticed us.
Carter and I landed just inside the pyramid’s entrance and returned to human form. Zia tumbled in next to us and turned her vulture back into an amulet. The demons were only a few steps behind—a dozen massive blokes with the heads of insects, dragons, and assorted Swiss Army knife attachments.
Carter thrust out his hand. A giant shimmering fist appeared and mimicked his move—pushing right between Zia and me and slamming the doors shut. Carter closed his eyes in concentration, and a burning golden symbol etched itself across the doors like a seal: the Eye of Horus. The lines glowed faintly as demons hammered against the barrier, trying to get in.
“It won’t hold them long,” Carter said.
I was duly impressed, though of course I didn’t say that. Looking at the sealed doors, all I could think about was Amos, out there on a burning boat, surrounded by an evil army.
“Amos knew what he was doing,” Carter said, though he didn’t sound very convinced. “He’s probably fine.”
“Come on,” Zia prodded us. “No time for second guessing.”


The tunnel was narrow, red, and humid, so I felt like I was crawling through an artery of some enormous beast. We made our way down single file, as the tunnel sloped at about forty degrees—which would’ve made a lovely waterslide but wasn’t so good for stepping carefully. The walls were decorated with intricate carvings, like most Egyptian walls we’d seen, but Carter obviously didn’t like them. He kept stopping, scowling at the pictures.
“What?” I demanded, after the fifth or sixth time.
“These aren’t normal tomb drawings,” he said. “No afterlife pictures, no pictures of the gods.”
Zia nodded. “This pyramid is not a tomb. It is a platform, a body to contain the power of Set. All these pictures are to increase chaos, and make it reign forever.”
As we kept walking, I paid more attention to the carvings, and I saw what Zia meant. The pictures showed horrible monsters, scenes of war, cities such as Paris and London in flames, full-color portraits of Set and the Set animal tearing into modern armies—scenes so gruesome, no Egyptian would ever commit them to stone. The farther we went, the weirder and more vivid the pictures became, and the queasier I felt.
Finally we reached the heart of the pyramid.
Where the burial chamber should’ve been in a regular pyramid, Set had designed a throne room for himself. It was about the size of a tennis court, but around the edges, the floor dropped off into a deep trench like a moat. Far, far below, red liquid bubbled. Blood? Lava? Evil ketchup? None of the possibilities were good.
The trench looked easy enough to jump, but I wasn’t anxious to do so because inside the room, the entire floor was carved with red hieroglyphs—all spells invoking the power of Isfet, chaos. Far above in the center of the ceiling, a single square hole let in blood-red light. Otherwise, there seemed to be no exits. Along either wall crouched four obsidian statues of the Set animal, their faces turned towards us with pearl teeth bared and emerald eyes glittering.
But the worst part was the throne itself. It was a horrid misshapen thing, like a red stalagmite that had grown haphazardly from centuries of dripping sediment. And it had formed itself around a gold coffin—Dad’s coffin—which was buried in the throne’s base, with just enough of it sticking out to form a kind of footrest.
“How do we get him out?” I said, my voice trembling.
Next to me, Carter caught his breath. “Amos?”
I followed his gaze up to the glowing red vent in the middle of the ceiling. A pair of legs dangled from the opening. Then Amos dropped down, opening his cloak like a parachute so that he floated to the floor. His clothes were still smoking, his hair dusted with ash. He pointed his staff towards the ceiling and spoke a command. The shaft he’d come through rumbled, spilling dust and rubble, and the light was abruptly cut off.
Amos dusted off his clothes and smiled at us. “That should hold them for a while.”
“How did you do that?” I asked.
He gestured for us to join him in the room.
Carter jumped the trench without hesitation. I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to let him go without me, so I hopped the trench too. Immediately I felt even queasier than before, as if the room were tilting, throwing my senses off balance.
Zia came over last, eyeing Amos carefully.
“You should not be alive,” she said.
Amos chuckled. “Oh, I’ve heard that before. Now, let’s get to business.”
“Yes.” I stared at the throne. “How do we get the coffin out?”
“Cut it?” Carter drew his sword, but Amos held up his hand.
“No, children. That’s not the business I mean. I’ve made sure no one will interrupt us. Now it’s time we talked.”
A cold tingle started up my spine. “Talked?”
Suddenly Amos fell to his knees and began to convulse. I ran towards him, but he looked up at me, his face racked with pain. His eyes were molten red.
“Run!” he groaned.
He collapsed, and red steam issued from his body.
“We have to go!” Zia grabbed my arm. “Now!”
But I watched, frozen in horror, as the steam rose from Amos’s unconscious form and drifted towards the throne, slowly taking the shape of a seated man—a red warrior in fiery armor, with an iron staff in his hand and the head of a canine monster.
“Oh, dear,” Set laughed. “I suppose Zia gets to say ‘I told you so.’”