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Chapter no 5 – We Meet the Monkey

The Red Pyramid

ITโ€™S CARTER AGAIN. SORRY.ย We had to turn off the tape for a while because we were being followed byโ€”well, weโ€™ll get to that later.

Sadie was telling you how we left London, right?

So anyway, we followed Amos down to the weird boat docked at the quayside. I cradled Dadโ€™s workbag under my arm. I still couldnโ€™t believe he was gone. I felt guilty leaving London without him, but I believed Amos about one thing: right now Dad was beyond our help. I didnโ€™t trust Amos, but I figured if I wanted to find out what had happened to Dad, I was going to have to go along with him. He was the only one who seemed to know anything.

Amos stepped aboard the reed boat. Sadie jumped right on, but I hesitated. Iโ€™d seen boats like this on the Nile before, and they never seemed very sturdy.

It was basically woven together from coils of plant fiberโ€”like a giant floating rug. I figured the torches at the front couldnโ€™t be a good idea, because if we didnโ€™t sink, weโ€™d burn. At the back, the tiller was manned by a little guy wearing Amosโ€™s black trench coat and hat. The hat was shoved down on his head so I couldnโ€™t see his face. His hands and feet were lost in the folds of the coat.

โ€œHow does this thing move?โ€ I asked Amos. โ€œYouโ€™ve got no sail.โ€ โ€œTrust me.โ€ Amos offered me a hand.

The night was cold, but when I stepped on board I suddenly felt warmer, as if the torchlight were casting a protective glow over us. In the middle of the boat was a hut made from woven mats. From Sadieโ€™s arms, Muffin sniffed at it and growled.

โ€œTake a seat inside,โ€ Amos suggested. โ€œThe trip might be a little rough.โ€ โ€œIโ€™ll stand, thanks.โ€ Sadie nodded at the little guy in back. โ€œWhoโ€™s your

driver?โ€

Amos acted as if he hadnโ€™t heard the question. โ€œHang on, everyone!โ€ He nodded to the steersman, and the boat lurched forward.

The feeling was hard to describe. You know that tingle in the pit of your stomach when youโ€™re on a roller coaster and it goes into free fall? It was kind of like that, except we werenโ€™t falling, and the feeling didnโ€™t go away. The

boat moved with astounding speed. The lights of the city blurred, then were swallowed in a thick fog. Strange sounds echoed in the dark: slithering and hissing, distant screams, voices whispering in languages I didnโ€™t understand.

The tingling turned to nausea. The sounds got louder, until I was about to scream myself. Then suddenly the boat slowed. The noises stopped, and the fog dissipated. City lights came back, brighter than before.

Above us loomed a bridge, much taller than any bridge in London. My stomach did a slow roll. To the left, I saw a familiar skylineโ€”the Chrysler Building, the Empire State Building.

โ€œImpossible,โ€ I said. โ€œThatโ€™s New York.โ€

Sadie looked as green as I felt. She was still cradling Muffin, whose eyes were closed. The cat seemed to be purring. โ€œIt canโ€™t be,โ€ Sadie said. โ€œWe only traveled a few minutes.โ€

And yet here we were, sailing up the East River, right under the Williamsburg Bridge. We glided to a stop next to a small dock on the Brooklyn side of the river. In front of us was an industrial yard filled with piles of scrap metal and old construction equipment. In the center of it all, right at the waterโ€™s edge, rose a huge factory warehouse heavily painted with graffiti, the windows boarded up.

โ€œThat is not a mansion,โ€ Sadie said. Her powers of perception are really amazing.

โ€œLook again.โ€ Amos pointed to the top of the building.

โ€œHow…how did you…โ€ My voice failed me. I wasnโ€™t sure why I hadnโ€™t seen it before, but now it was obvious: a five-story mansion perched on the roof of the warehouse, like another layer of a cake. โ€œYou couldnโ€™t build a mansion up there!โ€

โ€œLong story,โ€ Amos said. โ€œBut we needed a private location.โ€

โ€œAnd is this the east shore?โ€ Sadie asked. โ€œYou said something about that in Londonโ€”my grandparents living on the east shore.โ€

Amos smiled. โ€œYes. Very good, Sadie. In ancient times, the east bank of the Nile was always the side of the living, the side where the sun rises. The dead were buried west of the river. It was considered bad luck, even dangerous, to live there. The tradition is still strong among…our people.โ€

โ€œOur people?โ€ I asked, but Sadie muscled in with another question. โ€œSo you canโ€™t live in Manhattan?โ€ she asked.

Amosโ€™s brow furrowed as he looked across at the Empire State Building. โ€œManhattan has other problems. Other gods. Itโ€™s best we stay separate.โ€

โ€œOther what?โ€ Sadie demanded.

โ€œNothing.โ€ Amos walked past us to the steersman. He plucked off the manโ€™s hat and coatโ€”and there was no one underneath. The steersman simply wasnโ€™t there. Amos put on his fedora, folded his coat over his arm, then waved toward a metal staircase that wound all the way up the side of the

warehouse to the mansion on the roof.

โ€œAll ashore,โ€ he said. โ€œAnd welcome to the Twenty-first Nome.โ€

โ€œGnome?โ€ I asked, as we followed him up the stairs. โ€œLike those little runty guys?โ€

โ€œHeavens, no,โ€ Amos said. โ€œI hate gnomes. They smell horrible.โ€ โ€œBut you saidโ€”โ€

โ€œNome, n-o-m-e. As in a district, a region. The term is from ancient times, when Egypt was divided into forty-two provinces. Today, the system is a little different. Weโ€™ve gone global. The world is divided into three hundred and sixty nomes. Egypt, of course, is the First. Greater New York is the Twenty-first.โ€

Sadie glanced at me and twirled her finger around her temple.

โ€œNo, Sadie,โ€ Amos said without looking back. โ€œIโ€™m not crazy. Thereโ€™s much you need to learn.โ€

We reached the top of the stairs. Looking up at the mansion, it was hard to understand what I was seeing. The house was at least fifty feet tall, built of enormous limestone blocks and steel-framed windows. There were hieroglyphs engraved around the windows, and the walls were lit up so the place looked like a cross between a modern museum and an ancient temple. But the weirdest thing was that if I glanced away, the whole building seemed to disappear. I tried it several times just to be sure. If I looked for the mansion from the corner of my eye, it wasnโ€™t there. I had to force my eyes to refocus on it, and even that took a lot of willpower.

Amos stopped before the entrance, which was the size of a garage door

โ€”a dark heavy square of timber with no visible handle or lock. โ€œCarter, after you.โ€

โ€œUm, how do Iโ€”โ€ โ€œHow do you think?โ€

Great, another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amosโ€™s head against it and see if that worked. Then I looked at the door again, and I had the strangest feeling. I stretched out my arm. Slowly, without touching the door, I raised my hand and the door followed my movementโ€”sliding upward until it disappeared into the ceiling.

Sadie looked stunned. โ€œHow…โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t know,โ€ I admitted, a little embarrassed. โ€œMotion sensor, maybe?โ€

โ€œInteresting.โ€ Amos sounded a little troubled. โ€œNot the way I wouldโ€™ve done it, but very good. Remarkably good.โ€

โ€œThanks, I think.โ€

Sadie tried to go inside first, but as soon as she stepped on the threshold, Muffin wailed and almost clawed her way out of Sadieโ€™s arms.

Sadie stumbled backward. โ€œWhat was that about, cat?โ€

โ€œOh, of course,โ€ Amos said. โ€œMy apologies.โ€ He put his hand on the catโ€™s head and said, very formally, โ€œYou may enter.โ€

โ€œThe cat needs permission?โ€ I asked.

โ€œSpecial circumstances,โ€ Amos said, which wasnโ€™t much of an explanation, but he walked inside without saying another word. We followed, and this time Muffin stayed quiet.

โ€œOh my god…โ€ Sadieโ€™s jaw dropped. She craned her neck to look at the ceiling, and I thought the gum might fall out of her mouth.

โ€œYes,โ€ Amos said. โ€œThis is the Great Room.โ€

I could see why he called it that. The cedar-beamed ceiling was four stories high, held up by carved stone pillars engraved with hieroglyphs. A weird assortment of musical instruments and Ancient Egyptian weapons decorated the walls. Three levels of balconies ringed the room, with rows of doors all looking out on the main area. The fireplace was big enough to park a car in, with a plasma-screen TV above the mantel and massive leather sofas on either side. On the floor was a snakeskin rug, except it was forty feet long and fifteen feet wideโ€”bigger than any snake. Outside, through glass walls, I could see the terrace that wrapped around the house. It had a swimming pool, a dining area, and a blazing fire pit. And at the far end of the Great Room was a set of double doors marked with the Eye of Horus, and chained with half a dozen padlocks. I wondered what could possibly be behind them.

But the real showstopper was the statue in the center of the Great Room. It was thirty feet tall, made of black marble. I could tell it was of an Egyptian god because the figure had a human body and an animalโ€™s headโ€”like a stork or a crane, with a long neck and a really long beak.

The god was dressed ancient-style in a kilt, sash, and neck collar. He held a scribeโ€™s stylus in one hand, and an open scroll in the other, as if he had just written the hieroglyphs inscribed there: an ankhโ€”the Egyptian looped crossโ€”with a rectangle traced around its top.

image

โ€œThatโ€™s it!โ€ Sadie exclaimed. โ€œPer Ankh.โ€

I stared at her in disbelief. โ€œAll right, how you can read that?โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t know,โ€ she said. โ€œBut itโ€™s obvious, isnโ€™t it? The top one is shaped like the floor plan of a house.โ€

โ€œHow did you get that? Itโ€™s just a box.โ€ The thing was, she was right. I recognized the symbol, and it was supposed to be a simplified picture of a house with a doorway, but that wouldnโ€™t be obvious to most people, especially people named Sadie. Yet she looked absolutely positive.

โ€œItโ€™s a house,โ€ she insisted. โ€œAnd the bottom picture is the ankh, the symbol for life. Per Ankhโ€”the House of Life.โ€

โ€œVery good, Sadie.โ€ Amos looked impressed. โ€œAnd this is a statue of the only god still allowed in the House of Lifeโ€”at least, normally. Do you recognize him, Carter?โ€

Just then it clicked: the bird was an ibis, an Egyptian river bird. โ€œThoth,โ€ I said. โ€œThe god of knowledge. He invented writing.โ€

โ€œIndeed,โ€ Amos said.

โ€œWhy the animal heads?โ€ Sadie asked. โ€œAll those Egyptian gods have animal heads. They look so silly.โ€

โ€œThey donโ€™t normally appear that way,โ€ Amos said. โ€œNot in real life.โ€ โ€œReal life?โ€ I asked. โ€œCome on. You sound like youโ€™ve met them in

person.โ€

Amosโ€™s expression didnโ€™t reassure me. He looked as if he were remembering something unpleasant. โ€œThe gods could appear in many forms

โ€”usually fully human or fully animal, but occasionally as a hybrid form like this. They are primal forces, you understand, a sort of bridge between humanity and nature. They are depicted with animal heads to show that they exist in two different worlds at once. Do you understand?โ€

โ€œNot even a little,โ€ Sadie said.

โ€œMmm.โ€ Amos didnโ€™t sound surprised. โ€œYes, we have much training to do. At any rate, the god before you, Thoth, founded the House of Life, for which this mansion is the regional headquarters. Or at least…it used to be. Iโ€™m the only member left in the Twenty-first Nome. Or I was, until you two came along.โ€

โ€œHang on.โ€ I had so many questions I could hardly think where to start. โ€œWhat is the House of Life? Why is Thoth the only god allowed here, and why are youโ€”โ€

โ€œCarter, I understand how you feel.โ€ Amos smiled sympathetically. โ€œBut these things are better discussed in daylight. You need to get some sleep, and I donโ€™t want you to have nightmares.โ€

โ€œYou think I can sleep?โ€

โ€œMrow.โ€ Muffin stretched in Sadieโ€™s arms and let loose a huge yawn. Amos clapped his hands. โ€œKhufu!โ€

I thought heโ€™d sneezed, because Khufu is a weird name, but then a little dude about three feet tall with gold fur and a purple shirt came clambering down the stairs. It took me a second to realize it was a baboon wearing an

L.A. Lakers jersey.

The baboon did a flip and landed in front of us. He showed off his fangs and made a sound that was half roar, half belch. His breath smelled like nacho-flavored Doritos.

All I could think to say was, โ€œThe Lakers are my home team!โ€

The baboon slapped his head with both hands and belched again. โ€œOh, Khufu likes you,โ€ Amos said. โ€œYouโ€™ll get along famously.โ€

โ€œRight.โ€ Sadie looked dazed. โ€œYouโ€™ve got a monkey butler. Why not?โ€ Muffin purred in Sadieโ€™s arms as if the baboon didnโ€™t bother her at all. โ€œAgh!โ€ Khufu grunted at me.

Amos chuckled. โ€œHe wants to go one-on-one with you, Carter. To, ah, see your game.โ€

I shifted from foot to foot. โ€œUm, yeah. Sure. Maybe tomorrow. But how can you understandโ€”โ€

โ€œCarter, Iโ€™m afraid youโ€™ll have a lot to get used to,โ€ Amos said. โ€œBut if youโ€™re going to survive and save your father, you have to get some rest.โ€

โ€œSorry,โ€ Sadie said, โ€œdid you say โ€˜survive and save our fatherโ€™? Could you expand on that?โ€

โ€œTomorrow,โ€ Amos said. โ€œWeโ€™ll begin your orientation in the morning.

Khufu, show them to their rooms, please.โ€

โ€œAgh-uhh!โ€ the baboon grunted. He turned and waddled up the stairs. Unfortunately, the Lakers jersey didnโ€™t completely cover his multicolored rear.

We were about to follow when Amos said, โ€œCarter, the workbag, please.

Itโ€™s best if I lock it in the library.โ€

I hesitated. Iโ€™d almost forgotten the bag on my shoulder, but it was all I had left of my father. I didnโ€™t even have our luggage because it was still locked up at the British Museum. Honestly, Iโ€™d been surprised that the police hadnโ€™t taken the workbag too, but none of them seemed to notice it.

โ€œYouโ€™ll get it back,โ€ Amos promised. โ€œWhen the time is right.โ€

He asked nicely enough, but something in his eyes told me that I really didnโ€™t have a choice.

I handed over the bag. Amos took it gingerly, as if it were full of explosives.

โ€œSee you in the morning.โ€ He turned and strode toward the chained-up doors. They unlatched themselves and opened just enough for Amos to slip through without showing us anything on the other side. Then the chains locked again behind him.

I looked at Sadie, unsure what to do. Staying by ourselves in the Great Room with the creepy statue of Thoth didnโ€™t seem like much fun, so we followed Khufu up the stairs.

Sadie and I got adjoining rooms on the third floor, and Iโ€™ve got to admit, they were way cooler than any place Iโ€™d ever stayed before.

I had my own kitchenette, fully stocked with my favorite snacks: ginger aleโ€”[No, Sadie. Itโ€™s not an old personโ€™s soda! Be quiet!]โ€”Twix, and Skittles. It seemed impossible. How did Amos know what I liked? The TV, computer,

and stereo system were totally high-tech. The bathroom was stocked with my regular brand of toothpaste, deodorant, everything. The king-size bed was awesome, too, though the pillow was a little strange. Instead of a cloth pillow, it was an ivory headrest like Iโ€™d seen in Egyptian tombs. It was decorated with lions and (of course) more hieroglyphs.

The room even had a deck that looked out on New York Harbor, with views of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty in the distance, but the sliding glass doors were locked shut somehow. That was my first indication that something was wrong.

I turned to look for Khufu, but he was gone. The door to my room was shut. I tried to open it, but it was locked.

A muffled voice came from the next room. โ€œCarter?โ€

โ€œSadie.โ€ I tried the door to her adjoining room, but it was locked too. โ€œWeโ€™re prisoners,โ€ she said. โ€œDo you think Amos…I mean, can we trust

him?โ€

After all Iโ€™d seen today, I didnโ€™t trust anything, but I could hear the fear in Sadieโ€™s voice. It triggered an unfamiliar feeling in me, like I needed to reassure her. The idea seemed ridiculous. Sadie had always seemed so much braver than meโ€”doing what she wanted, never caring about the consequences. I was the one who got scared. But right now, I felt like I needed to play a role I hadnโ€™t played in a long, long time: big brother.

โ€œItโ€™ll be okay.โ€ I tried to sound confident. โ€œLook, if Amos wanted to hurt us, he couldโ€™ve done it by now. Try to get some sleep.โ€

โ€œCarter?โ€

โ€œYeah?โ€

โ€œIt was magic, wasnโ€™t it? What happened to Dad at the museum. Amosโ€™s boat. This house. All of itโ€™s magic.โ€

โ€œI think so.โ€

I could hear her sigh. โ€œGood. At least Iโ€™m not going mad.โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t let the bedbugs bite,โ€ I called. And I realized I hadnโ€™t said that to Sadie since we had lived together in Los Angeles, when Mom was still alive.

โ€œI miss Dad,โ€ she said. โ€œI hardly ever saw him, I know, but…I miss him.โ€

My eyes got a little teary, but I took a deep breath. I was not going to go all weak. Sadie needed me. Dad needed us.

โ€œWeโ€™ll find him,โ€ I told her. โ€œPleasant dreams.โ€

I listened, but the only thing I heard was Muffin meowing and scampering around, exploring her new space. At least she didnโ€™t seem unhappy.

I got ready for bed and crawled in. The covers were comfortable and warm, but the pillow was just too weird. It gave me neck cramps, so I put it on the floor and went to sleep without it.

My first big mistake.

โ€ŒC A R T E R

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