BEING TURNED INTO A LIZARD can really mess up your day. As we stepped through the doorway, I tried to hide it, but I was feeling pretty bad.
You’re probably thinking: Hey, you already turned into a falcon. What’s the big deal? But someone else forcing you into another form—that’s totally different. Imagine yourself in a trash compactor, your entire body smashed into a shape smaller than your hand. It’s painful and it’s humiliating. Your enemy pictures you as a stupid harmless lizard, then imposes their will on you, overpowering your thoughts until you have to be what they want you to be. I guess it could’ve been worse. He could’ve pictured me as a fruit bat, but still…
Of course I felt grateful to Sadie for saving me, but I also felt like a complete loser. It was bad enough that I’d embarrassed myself on the basketball court with a troop of baboons. But I’d also totally failed in battle. Maybe I’d done okay with Leroy, the airport monster, but faced with a couple of magicians (even clay ones), I got turned into a reptile in the first two seconds. How would I stand a chance against Set?
I was shaken out of those thoughts when we emerged from the portal, because we were definitely not in Thoth’s office.
In front of us loomed a life-size glass-and-metal pyramid, almost as big as the ones at Giza. The skyline of downtown Memphis rose up in the distance. At our backs were the banks of the Mississippi River.
The sun was setting, turning the river and the pyramid to gold. On the pyramid’s front steps, next to a twenty-foot-tall pharaoh statue labeled Ramesses the Great, Thoth had set out a picnic with barbecued ribs and brisket, bread and pickles, the works. He was playing his guitar with a portable amp. Khufu stood nearby, covering his ears.
“Oh, good.” Thoth strummed a chord that sounded like the death cry of a sick donkey. “You lived.”
I stared up at the pyramid in amazement. “Where did this come from? You didn’t just…build it, did you?” I remembered my ba trip to Set’s red pyramid, and suddenly pictured gods building monuments all over the U.S.
Thoth chuckled. “I didn’t have to build it. The people of Memphis did that. Humans never really forget Egypt, you know. Every time they build a city on the banks of a river, they remember their heritage, buried deep in their subconscious. This is the Pyramid Arena—sixth largest pyramid in the world. It used to be a sports arena for…what is that game you like, Khufu?”
“Agh!” Khufu said indignantly. And I swear he gave me a dirty look. “Yes, basketball,” Thoth said. “But the arena fell on hard times. It’s been
abandoned for years. Well, no longer. I’m moving in. You do have the ankh?” For a moment, I wondered if it had been such a good idea helping Thoth,
but we needed him. I tossed him the necklace.
“Excellent,” he said. “An ankh from the tomb of Elvis. Powerful magic!” Sadie clenched her fists. “We almost died getting that. You tricked us.” “Not a trick,” he insisted. “A test.”
“Those things,” Sadie said, “the shabti—”
“Yes, my best work in centuries. A shame to break them, but I couldn’t have you beating up on real magicians, could I? Shabti make excellent stunt doubles.”
“So you saw the whole thing,” I muttered.
“Oh, yes.” Thoth held out his hand. Two little fires danced across his palm—the magic essences we’d seen escape from the shabti’s mouths. “These are…recording devices, I suppose you’d say. I got a full report. You defeated the shabti without killing. I must admit I’m impressed, Sadie. You controlled your magic and controlled Isis. And you, Carter, did well turning into a lizard.”
I thought he was teasing me. Then I realized there was genuine sympathy in his eyes, as if my failure had also been some kind of test.
“You will find worse enemies ahead, Carter,” he warned. “Even now, the House of Life sends its best against you. But you will also find friends where you least expect them.”
I didn’t know why, but I got the feeling he was talking about Zia…or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Thoth stood and handed Khufu his guitar. He tossed the ankh at the statue of Ramesses, and the necklace fastened itself around the pharaoh’s neck.
“There you are, Ramesses,” Thoth said to the statue. “Here’s to our new life.”
The statue glowed faintly, as if the sunset had just gotten ten times brighter. Then the glow spread to the entire pyramid before slowly fading.
“Oh, yes,” Thoth mused. “I think I’ll be happy here. Next time you children visit me, I’ll have a much bigger laboratory.”
Scary thought, but I tried to stay focused.
“That’s not all we found,” I said. “You need to explain this.”
I held out the painting of the cat and the snake. “It’s a cat and a snake,” Thoth said.
“Thank you, god of wisdom. You placed it for us to find, didn’t you?
You’re trying to give us some kind of clue.” “Who, me?”
Just kill him, Horus said. Shut up, I said.
At least kill the guitar.
“The cat is Bast,” I said, trying to ignore my inner psycho falcon. “Does this have something to do with why our parents released the gods?”
Thoth gestured toward the picnic plates. “Did I mention we have barbecue?”
Sadie stomped her foot. “We had a deal, Ja-hooty!”
“You know…I like that name,” Thoth mused, “but not so much when you say it. I believe our deal was that I would explain how to use the spell book. May I?”
He held out his hand. Reluctantly I dug the magic book out of my bag and handed it over.
Thoth unfolded the pages. “Ah, this takes me back. So many formulae. In the old days, we believed in ritual. A good spell might take weeks to prepare, with exotic ingredients from all over the world.”
“We don’t have weeks,” I said. “Rush, rush, rush.” Thoth sighed.
“Agh,” Khufu agreed, sniffing the guitar.
Thoth closed the book and handed it back to me. “Well, it’s an incantation for destroying Set.”
“We know that,” Sadie said. “Will it destroy him forever?”
“No, no. But it will destroy his form in this world, banishing him deep into the Duat and reducing his power so he will not be able to appear again for a long, long time. Centuries, most likely.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “How do we read it?”
Thoth stared at me like the answer should be obvious. “You cannot read it now because the words can only be spoken in Set’s presence. Once before him, Sadie should open the book and recite the incantation. She’ll know what to do when the time comes.”
“Right,” Sadie said. “And Set will just stand there calmly while I read him to death.”
Thoth shrugged. “I did not say it would be easy. You’ll also require two ingredients for the spell to work—a verbal ingredient, Set’s secret name—”
“What?” I protested. “How are we supposed to get that?”
“With difficulty, I’d imagine. You can’t simply read a secret name from a book. The name must come from the owner’s own lips, in his own
pronunciation, to give you power over him.” “Great,” I said. “So we just force Set to tell us.” “Or trick him,” Thoth said. “Or convince him.” “Isn’t there any other way?” Sadie asked.
Thoth brushed an ink splotch off his lab coat. A hieroglyph turned into a moth and fluttered away. “I suppose…yes. You could ask the person closest to Set’s heart—the person who loves him most. She would also have the ability to speak the name.”
“But nobody loves Set!” Sadie said.
“His wife,” I guessed. “That other goddess, Nephthys.”
Thoth nodded. “She’s a river goddess. Perhaps you could find her in a river.”
“This just gets better and better,” I muttered.
Sadie frowned at Thoth. “You said there was another ingredient?” “A physical ingredient,” Thoth agreed, “a feather of truth.”
“A what?” Sadie asked.
But I knew what he was talking about, and my heart sank. “You mean from the Land of the Dead.”
Thoth beamed. “Exactly.”
“Wait,” Sadie said. “What is he talking about?”
I tried to mask my fear. “In ancient Egypt, when someone died, they embarked on a perilous journey to the Land of the Dead,” I explained. “At the end of that journey, they reached the Hall of Judgment, where Anubis weighed their heart against the feather of truth. If their heart was lighter, they earned eternal happiness. If not, a creature devoured it, and they vanished from existence.”
“Ah, Ammit the Devourer,” Thoth mused with a hint of fondness. “Such a charming little monster.”
Sadie blinked. “And exactly how are we supposed to get a feather from this Hall of Judgment?”
“Perhaps Anubis will be in a rare good mood,” Thoth suggested. “Happens maybe once every thousand years.”
“But how do we even reach the Land of the Dead?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Without, you know… actually dying?”
Thoth looked toward the western horizon, where the sunset painted the sky a deep crimson. “I’d suggest taking the river at night. That’s how most souls travel to the Land of the Dead. A boat should take you there. You’ll find Anubis at the river’s end.” He pointed north, hesitated, then pointed south. “Oops—rivers flow south here. Everything’s a bit backward.”
“Agh!” Khufu ran his fingers over the guitar frets, blasting out an intense rock riff before casually setting the instrument down. Sadie and I could only stare, but Thoth nodded as if the baboon had made an insightful remark.
“Are you sure, Khufu?” Thoth asked. Khufu grunted.
“Very well.” Thoth sighed. “Khufu says he would like to go with you. I told him he could stay here and type my doctoral thesis on quantum physics, but he’s not interested.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Sadie said. “Glad to have Khufu along, but where do we find a boat?”
“You are the blood of pharaohs,” Thoth said. “Pharaohs always have access to a boat. Just make sure you use it wisely.”
He nodded toward the river. Churning toward the shore was an old- fashioned paddlewheel steamboat with smoke billowing from its stacks.
“I wish you a good journey,” Thoth said. “Until we meet again.”
“We’re supposed to take that?” I asked. But when I turned to look at Thoth, he was gone, and he’d taken the barbecue with him.
“Wonderful,” Sadie muttered.
“Agh!” Khufu agreed. He took our hands and led us down to the shore.
