RIGHT, IโM TAKING THE MICROPHONE.ย There is no chance Carter would tell this part properly, as itโs about Zia. [Shut up, Carter. You know itโs true.]
Oh, who is Zia? Sorry, getting ahead of myself.
We raced to the entrance of the museum, and I had no idea why, except that a giant glowing cat woman had told us to. Now, you must realize I was already devastated by everything that had happened. First, Iโd lost my father. Second, my loving grandparents had kicked me out of the flat. Then Iโd discovered I was apparently โblood of the pharaohs,โ born to a magical family, and all sorts of rubbish that sounded quite impressive but only brought me loads of trouble. And as soon as Iโd found a new homeโa mansion with proper breakfast and friendly pets and quite a nice room for me, by the wayโ Uncle Amos disappeared, my lovely new crocodile and baboon friends were tossed in a river, and the mansion was set on fire. And if that wasnโt enough, my faithful cat Muffin had decided to engage in a hopeless battle with a swarm of scorpions.
Do you call it a โswarmโ for scorpions? A herd? A gaggle? Oh, never mind.
The point is I couldnโt believe Iโd been asked to open a magic doorway when clearly I had no such skill, and now my brother was dragging me away. I felt like an utter failure. [And no comments from you, Carter. As I recall, you werenโt much help at the time, either.]
โWe canโt just leave Bast!โ I shouted. โLook!โ
Carter kept running, dragging me along, but I could see quite clearly what was happening back at the obelisk. A mass of scorpions had crawled up Bastโs glowing green legs and were wriggling into the hologram like it was gelatin. Bast smashed hundreds of them with her feet and fists, but there were simply too many. Soon they were up to her waist, and her ghostly shell began to flicker. Meanwhile, the brown-robed goddess advanced slowly, and I had a feeling she would be worse than any number of scorpions.
Carter pulled me through a row of bushes and I lost sight of Bast. We burst onto Fifth Avenue, which seemed ridiculously normal after the magic
battle. We ran down the sidewalk, shoved through a knot of pedestrians, and climbed the steps of the Met.
A banner above the entrance announced some sort of special Christmas event, which I suppose is why the museum was open on a holiday, but I didnโt bother reading the details. We pushed straight inside.
What did it look like? Well, it was a museum: huge entry hall, lots of columns and so on. I canโt claim I spent much time admiring the decor. I do remember it had queues for the ticket windows, because we ran right past them. There were also security guards, because they yelled at us as we dashed into the exhibits. By luck, we ended up in the Egyptian area, in front of a reconstructed tomb sort of place with narrow corridors. Carter probably couldโve told you what the structure was supposed to be, but honestly I didnโt care.
โCome on,โ I said.
We slipped inside the exhibit, which proved quite enough to lose the security guards, or perhaps they had better things to do than pursue naughty children.
When we popped out again, we sneaked around until we were sure we werenโt being followed. The Egypt wing wasnโt crowdedโjust a few clumps of old people and a foreign tour group with a guide explaining a sarcophagus in French. โEt voici la momie!โ
Strangely, no one seemed to notice the enormous sword on Carterโs back, which surely mustโve been a security issue (and much more interesting than the exhibits). A few old people did give us odd looks, but I suspect that was because we were dressed in linen pajamas, drenched in sweat, and covered in grass and leaves. My hair was probably a nightmare as well.
I found an empty room and pulled Carter aside. The glass cases were full of shabti. A few days earlier I wouldnโt have given them a second thought. Now, I kept glancing at the statues, sure theyโd come to life any minute and try to bash me on the head.
โWhat now?โ I asked Carter. โDid you see any temple?โ
โNo.โ He knit his eyebrows as if trying hard to remember. โI think thereโs a rebuilt temple down that hall…or is that in the Brooklyn Museum? Maybe the one in Munich? Sorry, Iโve been to so many museums with Dad that they all get mixed together.โ
I sighed in exasperation. โPoor boy, forced to travel the world, skip school, and spend time with Dad while I get a whole two days a year with him!โ
โHey!โ Carter turned on me with surprising force. โYou get a home! You get friends and a normal life and donโt wake up each morning wondering what country youโre in! You donโtโโ
The glass case next to us shattered, spraying glass at our feet.
Carter looked at me, bewildered. โDid we justโโ
โLike my exploding birthday cake,โ I grumbled, trying not to let on how startled I was. โYou need to control your temper.โ
โMe?โ
Alarms began to blare. Red lights pulsed through the corridor. A garbled voice came on the loudspeaker and said something about proceeding calmly to the exits. The French tour group ran past us, screaming in panic, followed by a crowd of remarkably fast old people with walkers and canes.
โLetโs finish arguing later, shall we?โ I told Carter. โCome on!โ
We ran down another corridor, and the sirens died as suddenly as theyโd started. The blood-red lights kept pulsing in eerie silence. Then I heard it: the slithering, clacking sounds of scorpions.
โWhat about Bast?โ My voice choked up. โIs sheโโ
โDonโt think about it,โ Carter said, though, judging from his face, thatโs exactly what he was thinking about. โKeep moving!โ
Soon we were hopelessly lost. As far as I could tell, the Egyptian part of the museum was designed to be as confusing as possible, with dead ends and halls that doubled back on themselves. We passed hieroglyphic scrolls, gold jewelry, sarcophagi, statues of pharaohs, and huge chunks of limestone. Why would someone display a rock? Arenโt there enough of those in the world?
We saw no one, but the slithering sounds grew louder no matter which way we ran. Finally I rounded a corner and smacked straight into someone.
I yelped and scrambled backwards, only to stumble into Carter. We both fell on our bums in a most unflattering way. Itโs a miracle Carter didnโt impale himself on his own sword.
At first I didnโt recognize the girl standing in front of us, which seems strange, looking back on it. Perhaps she was using some sort of magic aura, or perhaps I just didnโt want to believe it was her.
She looked a bit taller than me. Probably older, too, but not by much. Her black hair was trimmed along her jawline and longer in the front so that it swept over her eyes. She had caramel-colored skin and pretty, vaguely Arab features. Her eyesโlined in black kohl, Egyptian styleโwere a strange amber color that was either quite beautiful or a bit scary; I couldnโt decide which. She had a backpack on her shoulder, and wore sandals and loose- fitting linen clothes like ours. She looked as if she were on her way to a martial arts class. God, now that I think of it, we probably looked the same way. How embarrassing.
I slowly began to realize Iโd seen her before. She was the girl with the knife from the British Museum. Before I could say anything, Carter sprang to his feet. He moved in front of me and brandished his sword as if trying to protect me. Can you believe the nerve?
โGetโget back!โ he stammered.
The girl reached into her sleeve and produced a curved white piece of ivoryโan Egyptian wand.
She flicked it to one side, and Carterโs sword flew out of his hands and clattered to the floor.
โDonโt embarrass yourself,โ the girl said sternly. โWhere is Amos?โ
Carter looked too stunned to speak. The girl turned towards me. Her golden eyes were both beautiful and scary, I decided, and I didnโt like her a bit.
โWell?โ she demanded.
I didnโt see why I needed to tell her a bloody thing, but an uncomfortable pressure started building in my chest, like a burp trying to get free. I heard myself say, โAmos is gone. He left this morning.โ
โAnd the cat demon?โ
โThatโs my cat,โ I said. โAnd sheโs a goddess, not a demon. She saved us from the scorpions!โ
Carter unfroze. He snatched up his sword and pointed it at the girl again.
Full credit for persistence, I suppose.
โWho are you?โ he demanded. โWhat do you want?โ
โMy name is Zia Rashid.โ She tilted her head as if listening.
Right on cue, the entire building rumbled. Dust sprinkled from the ceiling, and the slithering sounds of scorpions doubled in volume behind us.
โAnd right now,โ Zia continued, sounding a bit disappointed, โI must save your miserable lives. Letโs go.โ
I suppose we couldโve refused, but our choices seemed to be Zia or the scorpions, so we ran after her.
She passed a case full of statues and casually tapped the glass with her wand. Tiny granite pharaohs and limestone gods stirred at her command. They hopped off their pedestals and crashed through the glass. Some wielded weapons. Others simply cracked their stone knuckles. They let us pass, but stared down the corridor behind us as if waiting for the enemy.
โHurry,โ Zia told us. โThese will onlyโโ
โBuy us time,โ I guessed. โYes, weโve heard that before.โ โYou talk too much,โ Zia said without stopping.
I was about to make a withering retort. Honestly, I wouldโve put her in her place quite properly. But just then we emerged into an enormous room and my voice abandoned me.
โWhoa,โ Carter said.
I couldnโt help agreeing with him. The place was extremely whoa.
The room was the size of a football stadium. One wall was made completely of glass and looked out on the park. In the middle of the room, on
a raised platform, an ancient building had been reconstructed. There was a freestanding stone gateway about eight meters tall, and behind that an open courtyard and square structure made of uneven sandstone blocks carved all over on the outside with images of gods and pharaohs and hieroglyphs. Flanking the buildingโs entrance were two columns bathed in eerie light.
โAn Egyptian temple,โ I guessed.
โThe Temple of Dendur,โ Zia said. โActually it was built by the Romans
โโ
โWhen they occupied Egypt,โ Carter said, like this was delightful
information. โAugustus commissioned it.โ โYes,โ Zia said.
โFascinating,โ I murmured. โWould you two like to be left alone with a history textbook?โ
Zia scowled at me. โAt any rate, the temple was dedicated to Isis, so it will have enough power to open a gate.โ
โTo summon more gods?โ I asked.
Ziaโs eyes flashed angrily. โAccuse me of that again, and I will cut out your tongue. I meant a gateway to get you out of here.โ
I felt completely lost, but I was getting used to that. We followed Zia up the steps and through the templeโs stone gateway.
The courtyard was empty, abandoned by the fleeing museum visitors, which made it feel quite creepy. Giant carvings of gods stared down at me. Hieroglyphic inscriptions were everywhere, and I was afraid that if I concentrated too hard, I might be able to read them.
Zia stopped at the front steps of the temple. She held up her wand and wrote in the air. A familiar hieroglyph burned between the columns.
Openโthe same symbol Dad had used at the Rosetta Stone. I waited for something to blow up, but the hieroglyph simply faded.
Zia opened her backpack. โWeโll make our stand here until the gate can be opened.โ
โWhy not just open it now?โ Carter asked.
โPortals can only appear at auspicious moments,โ Zia said. โSunrise, sunset, midnight, eclipses, astrological alignments, the exact time of a godโs birthโโ
โOh, come on,โ I said. โHow can you possibly know all that?โ
โIt takes years to memorize the complete calendar,โ Zia said. โBut the next auspicious moment is easy: high noon. Ten and a half minutes from now.โ
She didnโt check a watch. I wondered how she knew the time so
precisely, but I decided it wasnโt the most important question.
โWhy should we trust you?โ I asked. โAs I recall, at the British Museum, you wanted to gut us with a knife.โ
โThat wouldโve been simpler.โ Zia sighed. โUnfortunately, my superiors think you might be innocents. So for now, I canโt kill you. But I also canโt allow you to fall into the hands of the Red Lord. And so…you can trust me.โ
โWell, Iโm convinced,โ I said. โI feel all warm and fuzzy inside.โ
Zia reached in her bag and took out four little statuesโanimal-headed men, each about five centimeters tall. She handed them to me. โPut the Sons of Horus around us at the cardinal points.โ
โExcuse me?โ
โNorth, south, east, west.โ She spoke slowly, as if I were an idiot. โI know compass directions! Butโโ
โThatโs north.โ Zia pointed out the wall of glass. โFigure out the rest.โ
I did what she asked, though I didnโt see how the little men would help. Meanwhile, Zia gave Carter a piece of chalk and told him to draw a circle around us, connecting the statues.
โMagic protection,โ Carter said. โLike what Dad did at the British Museum.โ
โYes,โ I grumbled. โAnd we saw how well that worked.โ
Carter ignored me. What else is new? He was so eager to please Zia that he jumped right to the task of drawing his sidewalk art.
Then Zia took something else from her bagโa plain wooden rod like the one our dad had used in London. She spoke a word under her breath, and the rod expanded into a two-meter-long black staff topped with a carved lionโs head. She twirled it around single-handedly like a batonโjust showing off, I was sureโwhile holding the wand in her other hand.
Carter finished the chalk circle as the first scorpions appeared at the galleryโs entrance.
โHow much longer on that gate?โ I asked, hoping I didnโt sound as terrified as I felt.
โStay inside the circle no matter what,โ Zia said. โWhen the gate opens, jump through. And keep behind me!โ
She touched her wand to the chalk circle, spoke another word, and the circle began to glow dark red.
Hundreds of scorpions swarmed towards the temple, turning the floor into a living mass of claws and stingers. Then the woman in brown, Serqet, entered the gallery. She smiled at us coldly.
โZia,โ I said, โthatโs a goddess. She defeated Bast. What chance do you have?โ
Zia held up her staff and the carved lionโs head burst into flamesโa small red fireball so bright, it lit the entire room. โI am a scribe in the House
of Life, Sadie Kane. I am trained to fight gods.โ
โS A D I E