WE HUDDLED UNDER THE EAVES of a big white government building and watched the rain pour down on the Place de la Concorde. It was a miserable day to be in Paris. The winter skies were heavy and low, and the cold, wet air soaked right into my bones. There were no tourists, no foot traffic. Everyone with any sense was inside by a fire enjoying a hot drink.
To our right, the River Seine wound sluggishly through the city. Across the enormous plaza, the gardens of the Tuileries were shrouded in a soupy haze.
The Egyptian obelisk rose up lonely and dark in the middle of the square. We waited for more enemies to pop out of it, but none came. I remembered what Zia had said about artifacts needing a twelve-hour cooldown before they could be used again. I hoped she was right.
“Hold still,” Bast told me.
I winced as she pressed her hand against my chest. She whispered something in Egyptian, and the pain slowly subsided.
“Broken rib,” she announced. “Better now, but you should rest for at least a few minutes.”
“What about the magicians?”
“I wouldn’t worry about them just yet. The House will assume you teleported somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“Paris is the Fourteenth Nome—Desjardins’ headquarters. You would be insane trying to hide in his home territory.”
“Great.” I sighed.
“And your amulets do shield you,” Bast added. “I could find Sadie anywhere because of my promise to protect her. But the amulets will keep you veiled from the eyes of Set and from other magicians.”
I thought about the dark room in the First Nome with all the children looking into bowls of oil. Were they looking for us right now? The thought was creepy.
I tried to sit up and winced again.
“Stay still,” Bast ordered. “Really, Carter, you should learn to fall like a
cat.”
“I’ll work on that,” I promised. “How are you even alive? Is it that ‘nine lives’ thing?”
“Oh, that’s just a silly legend. I’m immortal.”
“But the scorpions!” Sadie scrunched in closer, shivering and drawing Bast’s raincoat around her shoulders. “We saw them overwhelm you!”
Bast made a purring sound. “Dear Sadie, you do care! I must say I’ve worked for many children of the pharaohs, but you two—” She looked genuinely touched. “Well, I’m sorry if I worried you. It’s true the scorpions reduced my power to almost nothing. I held them off as long as I could. Then I had just enough energy to revert to Muffin’s form and slip into the Duat.”
“I thought you weren’t good at portals,” I said.
“Well, first off, Carter, there are many ways in and out of the Duat. It has many different regions and layers—the Abyss, the River of Night, the Land of the Dead, the Land of Demons—”
“Sounds lovely,” Sadie muttered.
“Anyway, portals are like doors. They pass through the Duat to connect one part of the mortal world to another. And yes, I’m not good at those. But I am a creature of the Duat. If I’m on my own, slipping into the nearest layer for a quick escape is relatively easy.”
“And if they’d killed you?” I asked. “I mean, killed Muffin?”
“That would’ve banished me deep into the Duat. It would’ve been rather like putting my feet in concrete and dropping me into the middle of the sea. It would’ve taken years, perhaps centuries, before I would’ve been strong enough to return to the mortal world. Fortunately, that didn’t happen. I came back straightaway, but by the time I got to the museum, the magicians had already captured you.”
“We weren’t exactly captured,” I said.
“Really, Carter? How long were you in the First Nome before they decided to kill you?”
“Um, about twenty-four hours.”
Bast whistled. “They’ve gotten friendlier! They used to blast godlings to dust in the first few minutes.”
“We’re not—wait, what did you call us?”
Sadie answered, sounding as if in a trance: “‘Godlings.’ That’s what we are, aren’t we? That’s why Zia was so frightened of us, why Desjardins wants to kill us.”
Bast patted Sadie’s knee. “You always were bright, dear.”
“Hold on,” I said. “You mean hosts for gods? That’s not possible. I think I’d know if…”
Then I thought about the voice in my head, warning me to hide when I met Iskandar. I thought about all the things I was suddenly able to do—like fight with a sword and summon a magical shell of armor. Those were not
things I’d covered in home school.
“Carter,” Sadie said. “When the Rosetta Stone shattered, it let out five gods, right? Dad joined with Osiris. Amos told us that. Set…I don’t know. He got away somehow. But you and I—”
“The amulets protected us.” I clutched the Eye of Horus around my neck. “Dad said they would.”
“If we had stayed out of the room, as Dad told us to,” Sadie recalled. “But we were there, watching. We wanted to help him. We practically asked for power, Carter.”
Bast nodded. “That makes all the difference. An invitation.”
“And since then…” Sadie looked at me tentatively, almost daring me to make fun of her. “I’ve had this feeling. Like a voice inside me ”
By now the cold rain had soaked right through my clothes. If Sadie hadn’t said something, maybe I could’ve denied what was happening a little longer. But I thought about what Amos had said about our family having a long history with the gods. I thought about what Zia had told us about our lineage: “The gods choose their hosts carefully. They always prefer the blood of the pharaohs.”
“Okay,” I admitted. “I’ve been hearing a voice too. So either we’re both going crazy—”
“The amulet.” Sadie pulled it from her shirt collar and held it for Bast to see. “It’s the symbol of a goddess, isn’t it?”
I hadn’t seen her amulet in a long time. It was different from mine. It reminded me of an ankh, or maybe some kind of fancy tie.
“That is a tyet,” Bast said. “A magic knot. And yes, it is often called—” “The Knot of Isis,” Sadie said. I didn’t see how she could know that, but
she looked absolutely certain. “In the Hall of Ages, I saw an image of Isis, and then I was Isis, trying to get away from Set, and—oh, god. That’s it, isn’t it? I’m her.”
She grabbed her shirt like she physically wanted to pull the goddess away from her. All I could do was stare. My sister, with her ratty red- highlighted hair and her linen pajamas and her combat boots—how could she possibly worry about being possessed by a goddess? What goddess would want her, except maybe the goddess of chewing gum?
But then…I’d been hearing a voice inside me too. A voice that was definitely not mine. I looked at my amulet, the Eye of Horus. I thought about the myths I knew—how Horus, the son of Osiris, had to avenge his father by defeating Set. And at Luxor I’d summoned an avatar with the head of a
falcon.
I was afraid to try it, but I thought: Horus?
Well, it’s about time, the other voice said. Hello, Carter.
“Oh, no,” I said, panic rising in my chest. “No, no, no. Somebody get a can opener. I’ve got a god stuck in my head.”
Bast’s eyes lit up. “You communicated with Horus directly? That’s excellent progress!”
“Progress?” I banged my palms against my head. “Get him out!” Calm down, Horus said.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Bast frowned. “I didn’t.”
“Talking to him!” I pointed at my forehead.
“This is awful,” Sadie wailed. “How do I get rid of her?”
Bast sniffed. “First off, Sadie, you don’t have all of her. Gods are very powerful. We can exist in many places at once. But yes, part of Isis’s spirit now resides inside you. Just as Carter now carries the spirit of Horus. And frankly, you both should feel honored.”
“Right, very honored,” I said. “Always wanted to be possessed!”
Bast rolled her eyes. “Please, Carter, it’s not possession. Besides, you and Horus want the same thing—to defeat Set, just as Horus did millennia ago, when Set first killed Osiris. If you don’t, your father is doomed, and Set will become king of the earth.”
I glanced at Sadie, but she was no help. She ripped the amulet off her neck and threw it down. “Isis got in through the amulet, didn’t she? Well, I’ll just—”
“I really wouldn’t do that,” Bast warned.
But Sadie pulled out her wand and smashed the amulet. Blue sparks shot up from the ivory boomerang. Sadie yelped and dropped her wand, which was now smoking. Her hand was covered in black scorch marks. The amulet was fine. “Ow!” she said.
Bast sighed. She put her hand on Sadie’s, and the burn marks faded. “I did tell you. Isis channeled her power through the amulet, yes, but she’s not there now. She’s in you. And even so, magical amulets are practically indestructible.”
“So what are we supposed to do?” Sadie said.
“Well, for starters,” Bast said, “Carter must use the power of Horus to defeat Set.”
“Oh, is that all?” I said. “All by myself?” “No, no. Sadie can help.”
“Oh, super.”
“I’ll guide you as much as possible,” Bast promised, “but in the end, the two of you must fight. Only Horus and Isis can defeat Set and avenge the
death of Osiris. That’s the way it was before. That’s the way it must be now.” “Then we get our dad back?” I asked.
Bast’s smile wavered. “If all goes well.”
She wasn’t telling us everything. No surprise. But my brain was too fuzzy to figure out what I was missing.
I looked down at my hands. They didn’t seem any different—no stronger, no godlier. “If I’ve got the powers of a god, then why am I so…”
“Lame?” Sadie offered.
“Shut up,” I said. “Why can’t I use my powers better?”
“Takes practice,” Bast said. “Unless you wish to give over control to Horus. Then he would use your form, and you would not have to worry.”
I could, a voice said inside me. Let me fight Set. You can trust me.
Yeah, right, I told him. How can I be sure you wouldn’t get me killed and just move on to some other host? How can I be sure you’re not influencing my thoughts right now?
I would not do that, the voice said. I chose you because of your potential, Carter, and because we have the same goal. Upon my honor, if you let me control—
“No,” I said.
I realized I’d spoke aloud; Sadie and Bast were both looking at me.
“I mean I’m not giving up control,” I said. “This is our fight. Our dad’s locked in a coffin. Our uncle’s been captured.”
“Captured?” Sadie asked. I realized with a shock that I hadn’t told her about my last little ba trip. There just hadn’t been time.
When I gave her the details, she looked stricken. “God, no.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And Set spoke in French—‘Bon soir.’ Sadie, what you said about Set getting away—maybe he didn’t. If he was looking for a powerful host—”
“Desjardins,” Sadie finished.
Bast growled deep in her throat. “Desjardins was in London the night your father broke the Rosetta Stone, wasn’t he? Desjardins has always been full of anger, full of ambition. In many ways, he would be the perfect host for Set. If Set managed to possess Desjardins’ body, that would mean the Red Lord now controls the man who is Chief Lector of the House….By Ra’s throne, Carter, I hope you’re wrong. The two of you will have to learn to use the power of the gods quickly. Whatever Set is planning, he’ll do it on his birthday, when he’s strongest. That’s the third Demon Day—three days from now.”
“But I’ve already used Isis’s powers, haven’t I?” Sadie asked. “I’ve summoned hieroglyphs. I activated the obelisk at Luxor. Was that her or me?” “Both, dear,” Bast said. “You and Carter have great abilities on your own, but the power of the gods has hastened your development, and given
you an extra reservoir to draw on. What would’ve taken you years to learn, you’ve accomplished in days. The more you channel the power of the gods, the more powerful you will become.”
“And the more dangerous it gets,” I guessed. “The magicians told us hosting the gods can burn you out, kill you, drive you crazy.”
Bast fixed her eyes on me. Just for a second they were the eyes of a predator—ancient, powerful, dangerous. “Not everyone can host a god, Carter. That’s true. But you two are both blood of the pharaohs. You combine two ancient bloodlines. That’s very rare, very powerful. And besides, if you think you can survive without the power of the gods, think again. Don’t repeat your mother’s—” She stopped herself.
“What?” Sadie demanded. “What about our mother?” “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Tell us, cat!” Sadie said.
I was afraid Bast might unsheathe her knives. Instead she leaned against the wall and stared out at the rain. “When your parents released me from Cleopatra’s Needle…there was much more energy than they expected. Your father spoke the actual summoning spell, and the blast would’ve killed him instantly, but your mother threw up a shield. In that split second, I offered her my help. I offered to merge our spirits and help protect them. But she would not accept my help. She chose to tap her own reservoir ”
“Her own magic,” Sadie murmured.
Bast nodded sadly. “When a magician commits herself to a spell, there is no turning back. If she overreaches her power…well, your mother used her last bit of energy protecting your father. To save him, she sacrificed herself. She literally—”
“Burned up,” I said. “That’s what Zia warned us about.” The rain kept pouring down. I realized I was shivering.
Sadie wiped a tear from her cheek. She picked up her amulet and glared at it resentfully. “We’ve got to save Dad. If he’s really got the spirit of Osiris ”
She didn’t finish, but I knew what she was thinking. I thought about Mom when I was little, her arm around my shoulders as we stood on the back deck of our house in L.A. She’d pointed out the stars to me: Polaris, Orion’s Belt, Sirius. Then she’d smile at me, and I’d feel like I was more important than any constellation in the sky. My mom had sacrificed herself to save Dad’s life. She’d used so much magic, she literally burned up. How could I ever be that brave? Yet I had to try to save Dad. Otherwise I’d feel like Mom’s sacrifice had been for nothing. And maybe if we could rescue Dad, he could set things right, even bring back our mom.
Is that possible? I asked Horus, but his voice was silent. “All right,” I decided. “So how do we stop Set?”
Bast thought for a moment, then smiled. I got the feeling that whatever she was about to suggest, I wasn’t going to like it. “There might be a way without completely giving yourself over to the gods. There’s a book by Thoth
—one of the rare spell books written by the god of wisdom himself. The one I’m thinking of details a way to overcome Set. It is the prized possession of a certain magician. All we need to do is sneak into his fortress, steal it, and leave before sunset, while we can still create a portal to the United States.”
“Perfect,” Sadie said.
“Hold up,” I said. “Which magician? And where’s the fortress?”
Bast stared at me as if I were a bit slow. “Why, I think we already discussed him. Desjardins. His house is right here in Paris.”
Once I saw Desjardins’ house, I hated him even more. It was a huge mansion on the other side of the Tuileries, on the rue des Pyramides.
“Pyramids Road?” Sadie said. “Obvious, much?”
“Maybe he couldn’t find a place on Stupid Evil Magician Street,” I suggested.
The house was spectacular. The spikes atop its wrought iron fence were gilded. Even in the winter rain, the front garden was bursting with flowers. Five stories of white marble walls and black-shuttered windows loomed before us, the whole thing topped off by a roof garden. I’d seen royal palaces smaller than this place.
I pointed to the front door, which was painted bright red. “Isn’t red a bad color in Egypt? The color of Set?”
Bast scratched her chin. “Now that you mention it, yes. It’s the color of chaos and destruction.”
“I thought black was the evil color,” Sadie said.
“No, dear. As usual, modern folk have it backward. Black is the color of good soil, like the soil of the Nile. You can grow food in black soil. Food is good. Therefore black is good. Red is the color of desert sand. Nothing grows in the desert. Therefore red is evil.” She frowned. “It is strange that Desjardins has a red door.”
“Well, I’m excited,” Sadie grumbled. “Let’s go knock.”
“There will be guards,” Bast said. “And traps. And alarms. You can bet the house is heavily charmed to keep out gods.”
“Magicians can do that?” I asked. I imagined a big can of pesticide labeled God-Away.
“Alas, yes,” Bast said. “I will not be able to cross the threshold uninvited. You, however—”
“I thought we’re gods too,” Sadie said.
“That’s the beauty of it,” Bast said. “As hosts, you are still quite human. I have taken full possession of Muffin, so I am pretty much me—a goddess.
But you are still—well, yourselves. Clear?” “No,” I said.
“I suggest you turn into birds,” Bast said. “You can fly to the roof garden and make your way in. Plus, I like birds.”
“First problem,” I said, “we don’t know how to turn into birds.”
“Easily fixed! And a good test at channeling godly power. Both Isis and Horus have bird forms. Simply imagine yourselves as birds, and birds you shall become.”
“Just like that,” Sadie said. “You won’t pounce on us?” Bast looked offended. “Perish the thought!”
I wished she hadn’t used the word perish. “Okay,” I said. “Here goes.”
I thought: You in there, Horus? What? he said testily.
Bird form, please.
Oh, I see. You don’t trust me. But now you need my help. Man, come on. Just do the falcon thing.
Would you settle for an emu?
I decided talking wasn’t going to help, so I closed my eyes and imagined I was a falcon. Right away, my skin began to burn. I had trouble breathing. I opened my eyes and gasped.
I was really, really short—eye-level with Bast’s shins. I was covered in feathers, and my feet had turned into wicked claws, kind of like my ba form, but this was real flesh and blood. My clothes and bag were gone, as if they’d melted into my feathers. My eyesight had completely changed, too. I could see a hundred and eighty degrees around, and the detail was incredible. Every leaf on every tree popped out. I spotted a cockroach a hundred yards away, scurrying into a sewer drain. I could see every pore on Bast’s face, now looming above me and grinning.
“Better late than never,” she said. “Took you almost ten minutes.”
Huh? The change had seemed instantaneous. Then I looked next to me and saw a beautiful gray bird of prey, a little bit smaller than me, with black- tipped wings and golden eyes. I’m not sure how, but I knew it was a kite— like the bird kite, not the kind with a string.
The kite let out a chirping sound—“Ha, ha, ha.” Sadie was laughing at
me.
I opened my own beak, but no sound came out.
“Oh, you two look delicious,” Bast said, licking her lips. “No, no—er, I
mean wonderful. Now, off you go!”
I spread my majestic wings. I had really done it! I was a noble falcon, lord of the sky. I launched myself off the sidewalk and flew straight into the fence.
“Ha—ha—ha,” Sadie chirped behind me.
Bast crouched down and began making weird chittering noises. Uh-oh. She was imitating birds. I’d seen enough cats do this when they were stalking. Suddenly my own obituary flashed in my head: Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat, Muffin.
I spread my wings, kicked off with my feet, and with three strong flaps, I was soaring through the rain. Sadie was right behind me. Together we spiraled up into the air.
I have to admit: it felt amazing. Ever since I was a little kid, I’d had dreams in which I was flying, and I always hated waking up. Now it wasn’t a dream or even a ba trip. It was one hundred percent real. I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse—yum.
Hang on, Carter, I thought. Not hunting mice. I zeroed in on Desjardins’ mansion, tucked in my wings, and shot downward.
I saw the rooftop garden, the double glass doors leading inside, and the voice inside me said: Don’t stop. It’s an illusion. You’ve got to punch through their magic barriers.
It was a crazy thought. I was plummeting so fast I would smack against the glass and become a feathery pancake, but I didn’t slow down.
I rammed straight into the doors—and sailed through them as if they didn’t exist. I spread my wings and landed on a table. Sadie sailed in right behind me.
We were alone in the middle of a library. So far, so good.
I closed my eyes and thought about returning to my normal form. When I opened my eyes again, I was regular old Carter, sitting on a table in my regular clothes, my workbag back on my shoulder.
Sadie was still a kite.
“You can turn back now,” I told her.
She tilted her head and regarded me quizzically. She let out a frustrated croak.
I cracked a smile. “You can’t, can you? You’re stuck?” She pecked my hand with her extremely sharp beak. “Ow!” I complained. “It’s not my fault. Keep trying.”
She closed her eyes and ruffled her feathers until she looked like she was going to explode, but she stayed a kite.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Bast will help once we get out of here.”
“Ha—ha—ha.”
“Just keep watch. I’m going to look around.”
The room was huge—more like a traditional library than a magician’s lair. The furniture was dark mahogany. Every wall was covered with floor-to-
ceiling bookcases. Books overflowed onto the floor. Some were stacked on tables or stuffed into smaller shelves. A big easy chair by the window looked like the kind of place Sherlock Holmes would sit smoking a pipe.
Every step I took, the floorboards creaked, which made me wince. I couldn’t hear anyone else in the house, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
Aside from the glass doors to the rooftop, the only other exit was a solid wooden door that locked from the inside. I turned the deadbolt. Then I wedged a chair up under the handle. I doubted that would keep magicians out for very long, but it might buy me a few seconds if things went bad.
I searched the bookshelves for what seemed like ages. All different types of books were jammed together—nothing alphabetized, nothing numbered. Most of the titles weren’t in English. None were in hieroglyphics. I was hoping for something with big gold lettering that said The Book of Thoth, but no such luck.
“What would a Book of Thoth even look like?” I wondered.
Sadie turned her head and glared at me. I was pretty sure she was telling me to hurry up.
I wished there were shabti to fetch things, like the ones in Amos’s library, but I didn’t see any. Or maybe…
I slung Dad’s bag off my shoulder. I set his magic box on the table and slid open the top. The little wax figure was still there, right where I’d left him. I picked him up and said, “Doughboy, help me find The Book of Thoth in this library.”
His waxy eyes opened immediately. “And why should I help you?” “Because you have no choice.”
“I hate that argument! Fine—hold me up. I can’t see the shelves.”
I walked him around the room, showing him the books. I felt pretty stupid giving the wax doll a tour, but probably not as stupid as Sadie felt. She was still in bird form, scuttling back and forth on the table and snapping her beak in frustration as she tried to change back.
“Hold it!” Doughboy announced. “This one is ancient—right here.”
I pulled down a thin volume bound in linen. It was so tiny, I would’ve missed it, but sure enough, the front cover was inscribed in hieroglyphics. I brought it over to the table and carefully opened it. It was more like a map than a book, unfolding into four parts until I was looking at a wide, long papyrus scroll with writing so old I could barely make out the characters.
I glanced at Sadie. “I bet you could read this to me if you weren’t a bird.”
She tried to peck me again, but I moved my hand. “Doughboy,” I said. “What is this scroll?”
“A spell lost in time!” he pronounced. “Ancient words of tremendous power!”
“Well?” I demanded. “Does it tell how to defeat Set?” “Better! The title reads: The Book of Summoning Fruit Bats!” I stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Would I joke about such a thing?”
“Who would want to summon fruit bats?” “Ha—ha—ha,” Sadie croaked.
I pushed the scroll away and we went back to searching.
After about ten minutes, Doughboy squealed with delight. “Oh, look! I remember this painting.”
It was a small oil portrait in a gilded frame, hanging on the end of a bookshelf. It must’ve been important, because it was bordered by little silk curtains. A light shone upon the portrait dude’s face so he seemed about to tell a ghost story.
“Isn’t that the guy who plays Wolverine?” I asked, because he had some serious jowl hair going on.
“You disgust me!” Doughboy said. “That is Jean-François Champollion.”
It took me a second, but I remembered the name. “The guy who deciphered hieroglyphics from the Rosetta Stone.”
“Of course. Desjardins’ great uncle.”
I looked at Champollion’s picture again, and I could see the resemblance. They had the same fierce black eyes. “Great uncle? But wouldn’t that make Desjardins—”
“About two hundred years old,” Doughboy confirmed. “Still a youngster. You know that when Champollion first deciphered hieroglyphics, he fell into a coma for five days? He became the first man outside the House of Life to ever unleash their magic, and it almost killed him. Naturally, that got the attention of the First Nome. Champollion died before he could join the House of Life, but the Chief Lector accepted his descendants for training. Desjardins is very proud of his family…but a little sensitive too, because he’s such a newcomer.”
“That’s why he didn’t get along with our family,” I guessed. “We’re like…ancient.”
Doughboy cackled. “And your father breaking the Rosetta Stone? Desjardins would’ve viewed that as an insult to his family honor! Oh, you should’ve seen the arguments Master Julius and Desjardins had in this room.”
“You’ve been here before?”
“Many times! I’ve been everywhere. I’m all-knowing.”
I tried to imagine Dad and Desjardins having an argument in here. It wasn’t hard. If Desjardins hated our family, and if gods tended to find hosts who shared their goals, then it made total sense that Set would try to merge with him. Both wanted power, both were resentful and angry, both wanted to
smash Sadie and me to a pulp. And if Set was now secretly controlling the Chief Lector…A drop of sweat trickled down the side of my face. I wanted to get out of this mansion.
Suddenly there was a banging sound below us, like someone closing a door downstairs.
“Show me where The Book of Thoth is,” I ordered Doughboy. “Quick!”
As we moved down the shelves, Doughboy grew so warm in my hands, I was afraid he would melt. He kept a running commentary on the books.
“Ah, Mastery of the Five Elements!” “Is that the one we want?” I asked.
“No, but a good one. How to tame the five essential elements of the universe—earth, air, water, fire, and cheese!”
“Cheese?”
He scratched his wax head. “I’m pretty sure that’s the fifth, yes. But moving right along!”
We turned to the next shelf. “No,” he announced. “No. Boring. Boring.
Oh, Clive Cussler! No. No.”
I was about to give up hope when he said, “There.” I froze. “Where—here?”
“The blue book with the gold trim,” he said. “The one that’s—” I pulled it out, and the entire room began to shake. “—trapped,” Doughboy continued.
Sadie squawked urgently. I turned and saw her take flight. Something small and black swooped down from the ceiling. Sadie clashed with it in midair, and the black thing disappeared down her throat.
Before I could even register how gross that was, alarms blared downstairs. More black forms dropped from the ceiling and seemed to multiply in the air, swirling into a funnel cloud of fur and wings.
“There’s your answer,” Doughboy told me. “Desjardins would want to summon fruit bats. You mess with the wrong books, you trigger a plague of fruit bats. That’s the trap!”
The things were on me like I was a ripe mango—diving at my face, clawing at my arms. I clutched the book and ran to the table, but I could hardly see. “Sadie, get out of here!” I yelled.
“SAW!” she cried, which I hoped meant yes.
I found Dad’s workbag and shoved the book and Doughboy inside. The library door rattled. Voices yelled in French.
Horus, bird time! I thought desperately. And no emu, please!
I ran for the glass doors. At the last second, I found myself flying—once again a falcon, bursting into the cold rain. I knew with the senses of a predator that I was being followed by approximately four thousand angry fruit bats.
But falcons are wicked fast. Once outside, I raced north, hoping to draw
the bats away from Sadie and Bast. I outdistanced the bats easily but let them keep close enough that they wouldn’t give up. Then, with a burst of speed, I turned in a tight circle and shot back toward Sadie and Bast in a hundred- mile-an-hour dive.
Bast looked up in surprise as I plummeted to the sidewalk, tumbling over myself as I turned back into a human. Sadie caught my arm, and only then did I realize she was back to normal as well.
“That was awful!” she announced.
“Exit strategy, quick!” I pointed at the sky, where an angry black cloud of fruit bats was getting closer and closer.
“The Louvre.” Bast grabbed our hands. “It’s got the closest portal.” Three blocks away. We’d never make it.
Then the red door of Desjardins’ house blasted open, but we didn’t wait to see what came out of it. We ran for our lives down the rue des Pyramides.
