OKAY, BEFORE I GET TO THE demon fruit bats, I should back up.
The night before we fled Luxor, I didn’t get much sleep—first because of an out-of-body experience, then a run-in with Zia. [Stop smirking, Sadie. It wasn’t a good run-in.]
After lights out, I tried to sleep. Honest. I even used the stupid magic headrest they gave me instead of a pillow, but it didn’t help. As soon as I managed to shut my eyes, my ba decided to take a little trip.
Just like before, I felt myself floating above my body, taking on a winged form. Then the current of the Duat swept me away at blurring speed. When my vision cleared, I found myself in a dark cavern. Uncle Amos was sneaking through it, finding his way with a faint blue light that flickered on the top of his staff. I wanted to call to him, but my voice didn’t work. I’m not sure how he could miss me, floating a few feet away in glowing chicken form, but apparently I was invisible to him.
He stepped forward and the ground at his feet suddenly blazed to life with a red hieroglyph. Amos cried out, but his mouth froze half open. Coils of light wrapped around his legs like vines. Soon red tendrils completely entwined him, and Amos stood petrified, his unblinking eyes staring straight ahead.
I tried to fly to him, but I was stuck in place, floating helplessly, so I could only observe.
Laughter echoed through the cavern. A horde of things emerged from the darkness—toad creatures, animal-headed demons, and even stranger monsters half hidden in the gloom. They’d been lying in ambush, I realized—waiting for Amos. In front of them appeared a fiery silhouette—Set, but his form was much clearer now, and this time it wasn’t human. His body was emaciated, slimy, and black, and his head was that of a feral beast.
“Bon soir, Amos,” Set said. “How nice of you to come. We’re going to have so much fun!”
I sat bolt upright in bed, back in my own body, with my heart pounding.
Amos had been captured. I knew it for certain. And even worse…Set had known somehow that Amos was coming. I thought back to something Bast
had said, about how the serpopards had broken in to the mansion. She’d said the defenses had been sabotaged, and only a magician of the House could’ve done it. A horrible suspicion started building inside me.
I stared into the dark for a long time, listening to the little kid next to me mumbling spells in his sleep. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I opened the door with a push of my mind, the way I’d done at Amos’s mansion, and I sneaked out.
I was wandering through the empty marketplace, thinking about Dad and Amos, replaying the events over and over, trying to figure out what I could’ve done differently to save them, when I spotted Zia.
She was hurrying across the courtyard as if she were being chased, but what really caught my attention was the shimmering black cloud around her, as if someone had wrapped her in a glittery shadow. She came to a section of blank wall and waved her hand. Suddenly a doorway appeared. Zia glanced nervously behind her and ducked inside.
Of course I followed.
I moved quietly up to the doorway. I could hear Zia’s voice inside, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. Then the doorway began to solidify, turning back into a wall, and I made a split-second decision. I jumped through.
Inside, Zia was alone with her back to me. She was kneeling at a stone altar, chanting something under her breath. The walls were decorated with Ancient Egyptian drawings and modern photographs.
The glittery shadow no longer surrounded Zia, but something even stranger was happening. I’d been planning to tell Zia about my nightmare, but that went completely out of my thoughts when I saw what she was doing. She cupped her palms, the way you might hold a bird, and a glowing blue sphere appeared, about the size of a golf ball. Still chanting, she raised her hands. The sphere flew up, straight through the ceiling, and vanished.
Some instinct told me this was not something I was supposed to see.
I thought about backing out of the room. Only problem: the door was gone. No other exits. It was only a matter of time before—Uh-oh.
Maybe I’d made a noise. Maybe her magical senses had kicked in. But faster than I could react, Zia pulled her wand and turned on me, flames flickering down the edge of the boomerang.
“Hi,” I said nervously.
Her expression turned from anger to surprise, then back to anger. “Carter, what are you doing here?”
“Just walking around. I saw you in the courtyard, so—” “What do you mean you saw me?”
“Well…you were running, and you had this black shimmery stuff around you, and—”
“You saw that? Impossible.” “Why? What was it?”
She dropped her wand and the fire died. “I don’t appreciate being followed, Carter.”
“Sorry. I thought you might be in trouble.”
She started to say something, but apparently changed her mind. “In trouble…that’s true enough.”
She sat down heavily and sighed. In the candlelight, her amber eyes looked dark and sad.
She stared at the photos behind the altar, and I realized she was in some of them. There she was as a little girl, standing barefoot outside a mud-brick house, squinting resentfully at the camera as if she didn’t want her picture taken. Next to that, a wider shot showed a whole village on the Nile—the kind of place my dad took me to sometimes, where nothing had changed much in the last two thousand years. A crowd of villagers grinned and waved at the camera as if they were celebrating, and above them little Zia rode on the shoulders of a man who must’ve been her father. Another photo was a family shot: Zia holding hands with her mother and father. They could’ve been any fellahin family anywhere in Egypt, but her dad had especially kindly, twinkling eyes—I thought he must have a good sense of humor. Her mom’s face was unveiled, and she laughed as if her husband had just cracked a joke.
“Your folks look cool,” I said. “Is that home?”
Zia seemed like she wanted to get angry, but she kept her emotions under control. Or maybe she just didn’t have the energy. “It was my home. The village no longer exists.”
I waited, not sure I dared to ask. We locked eyes, and I could tell she was deciding how much to tell me.
“My father was a farmer,” she said, “but he also worked for archaeologists. In his spare time he’d scour the desert for artifacts and new sites where they might want to dig.”
I nodded. What Zia described was pretty common. Egyptians have been making extra money that way for centuries.
“One night when I was eight, my father found a statue,” she said. “Small but very rare: a statue of a monster, carved from red stone. It had been buried in a pit with a lot of other statues that were all smashed. But somehow this one survived. He brought it home. He didn’t know…He didn’t realize magicians imprison monsters and spirits inside such statues, and break them to destroy their essence. My father brought the unbroken statue into our village, and…and accidentally unleashed…”
Her voice faltered. She stared at the picture of her father smiling and holding her hand.
“Zia, I’m sorry.”
She knit her eyebrows. “Iskandar found me. He and the other magicians destroyed the monster…but not in time. They found me curled in a fire pit under some reeds where my mother had hidden me. I was the only survivor.”
I tried to imagine how Zia would’ve looked when Iskandar found her—a little girl who’d lost everything, alone in the ruins of her village. It was hard to picture her that way.
“So this room is a shrine to your family,” I guessed. “You come here to remember them.”
Zia looked at me blankly. “That’s the problem, Carter. I can’t remember. Iskandar tells me about my past. He gave me these pictures, explained what happened. But…I have no memory at all.”
I was about to say, “You were only eight.” Then I realized I’d been the same age when my mom died, when Sadie and I were split up. I remembered all of that so clearly. I could still see our house in Los Angeles and the way the stars looked at night from our back porch overlooking the ocean. My dad would tell us wild stories about the constellations. Then every night before bed, Sadie and I would cuddle up with Mom on the sofa, fighting for her attention, and she’d tell us not to believe a word of Dad’s stories. She’d explain the science behind the stars, talk about physics and chemistry as if we were her college students. Looking back on it, I wondered if she’d been trying to warn us: Don’t believe in those gods and myths. They’re too dangerous.
I remembered our last trip to London as a family, how nervous Mom and Dad seemed on the plane. I remembered our dad coming back to our grandparents’ flat after Mom had died, and telling us there had been an accident. Even before he explained, I knew it was bad, because I’d never seen my dad cry before.
The little details that did fade drove me crazy—like the smell of Mom’s perfume, or the way her voice sounded. The older I got, the harder I held on to those things. I couldn’t imagine not remembering anything. How could Zia stand it?
“Maybe…” I struggled to find the right words. “Maybe you just—”
She held up her hand. “Carter, believe me. I’ve tried to remember. It’s no use. Iskandar is the only family I’ve ever had.”
“What about friends?”
Zia stared at me as if I’d used a foreign term. I realized I hadn’t seen anyone close to our age in the First Nome. Everyone was either much younger or much older.
“I don’t have time for friends,” she said. “Besides, when initiates turn thirteen, they’re assigned to other nomes around the world. I am the only one who stayed here. I like being alone. It’s fine.”
The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I’d said almost the same
thing, many times, when people asked me what it was like being homeschooled by my dad. Didn’t I miss having friends? Didn’t I want a normal life? “I like being alone. It’s fine.”
I tried to picture Zia going to a regular public high school, learning a locker combination, hanging out in the cafeteria. I couldn’t picture it. I imagined she would be as lost as I would.
“Tell you what,” I said. “After the testing, after the Demon Days, when things settle down—”
“Things won’t settle down.”
“—I’m going to take you to the mall.”
She blinked. “The mall? For what reason?”
“To hang out,” I said. “We’ll get some hamburgers. See a movie.” Zia hesitated. “Is this what you’d call a ‘date’?”
My expression must’ve been priceless, because Zia actually cracked a smile. “You look like a cow hit with a shovel.”
“I didn’t mean…I just meant…”
She laughed, and suddenly it was easier to imagine her as a regular high school kid.
“I will look forward to this mall, Carter,” she said. “You are either a very interesting person…or a very dangerous one.”
“Let’s go with interesting.”
She waved her hand, and the door reappeared. “Go now. And be careful.
The next time you sneak up on me, you might not be so fortunate.”
At the doorway, I turned. “Zia, what was that black shimmery stuff?”
Her smile faded. “An invisibility spell. Only very powerful magicians are able to see through it. You should not have.”
She stared at me for answers, but I didn’t have any.
“Maybe it was…wearing off or something,” I managed. “And, can I ask, the blue sphere?”
She frowned. “The what?”
“The thing you released that went into the ceiling.”
She looked mystified. “I…I don’t know what you mean. Perhaps the candlelight was playing tricks on your eyes.”
Awkward silence. Either she was lying to me, or I was going crazy, or…I didn’t know what. I realized I hadn’t told her about my vision of Amos and Set, but I felt that I’d already pushed her as far as I could for one night.
“Okay,” I said. “Good night.”
I made my way back to the dorm, but I didn’t get to sleep again for a long time.
Fast-forward to Luxor. Maybe now you understand why I didn’t want to leave Zia behind, and why I didn’t believe Zia would actually hurt us.
On the other hand, I knew she wasn’t lying about Desjardins. That guy wouldn’t think twice about turning us into escargots. And the fact that Set had spoken French in my dream—“Bon soir, Amos.” Was that just a coincidence…or was something a lot worse going on?
Anyway, when Sadie tugged on my arm, I followed.
We ran out of the temple and headed for the obelisk. But naturally, it wasn’t that simple. We’re the Kane family. Nothing is ever that simple.
Just as we reached the obelisk, I heard the slish-ing sound of a magic portal. About a hundred yards down the path, a bald magician in white robes stepped out of a whirling sand vortex.
“Hurry,” I told Sadie. I grabbed the staff-rod from my bag and threw it to her. “Since I cut yours in half. I’ll stick with the sword.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing!” she protested, searching the obelisk’s base as if she hoped to find a secret switch.
The magician regained his balance and spit the sand out of his mouth.
Then he spotted us. “Stop!”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “That’s gonna happen.”
“Paris.” Sadie turned to me. “You said the other obelisk is in Paris, right?”
“Right. Um, not to rush you, but…”
The magician raised his staff and started chanting.
I fumbled for the hilt of my sword. My legs felt like they were turning to butter. I wondered if I could pull off that hawk warrior thing again. That had been cool, but it had also been just a duel. And the test at the chasm bridge, when I’d deflected those daggers—that hadn’t seemed like me. Every time I’d drawn this sword so far, I’d had help: Zia had been there, or Bast. I’d never felt completely alone. This time, it was just me. I was crazy to think I could hold off a full-fledged magician. I was no warrior. Everything I knew about swords came from reading books—the history of Alexander the Great, The Three Musketeers—as if that could help! With Sadie occupied at the obelisk, I was on my own.
No you’re not, said a voice inside me.
Great, I thought. I’m on my own and going crazy.
At the far end of the avenue, the magician called out: “Serve the House of Life!”
But I got the feeling he wasn’t talking to me.
The air between us began to shimmer. Waves of heat flowed from the double lines of sphinxes, making them look as if they were moving. Then I realized they were moving. Each one cracked down the middle, and ghostly apparitions appeared from the stone like locusts breaking out of their shells. Not all of them were in good shape. The spirit creatures from broken statues had missing heads or feet. Some limped along on only three legs. But at least
a dozen attack sphinxes were in perfect condition, and they all came toward us—each one the size of a Doberman, made of milky white smoke and hot vapor. So much for the sphinxes being on our side.
“Soon!” I warned Sadie.
“Paris!” she called, and raised her staff and wand. “I want to go there now. Two tickets. First-class would be nice!”
The sphinxes advanced. The nearest one launched itself toward me, and with sheer luck I managed to slice it in half. The monster evaporated into smoke, but it let out a blast of heat so intense I thought my face was going to melt right off.
Two more sphinx ghosts loped toward me. A dozen more were only a few steps behind. I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck.
Suddenly the ground shook. The sky darkened, and Sadie yelled, “Yes!”
The obelisk glowed with purple light, humming with power. Sadie touched the stone and yelped. She was sucked inside and disappeared.
“Sadie!” I yelled.
In my moment of distraction, two of the sphinxes slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. My sword skittered away. My rib cage went crack! and my chest erupted in pain. The heat coming off the creatures was unbearable—it was like being crushed under a hot oven.
I stretched out my fingers toward the obelisk. Just a few inches too far. I could hear the other sphinxes coming, the magician chanting, “Hold him! Hold him!”
With my last bit of strength, I lurched toward the obelisk, every nerve in my body screaming with pain. My fingertips touched the base, and the world went black.
Suddenly I was lying on cold, wet stone. I was in the middle of a huge public plaza. Rain was pouring down, and the chilly air told me I was no longer in Egypt. Sadie was somewhere close by, yelling in alarm.
The bad news: I’d brought the two sphinxes with me. One jumped off me and bounded after Sadie. The other was still on my chest, glaring down at me, its back steaming in the rain, its smoky white eyes inches from my face.
I tried to remember the Egyptian word for fire. Maybe if I could set the monster ablaze…but my mind was too full of panic. I heard an explosion off to my right, in the direction Sadie had run. I hoped she’d gotten away, but I couldn’t be sure.
The sphinx opened its mouth and formed smoky fangs that had no business on an Ancient Egyptian king. It was about to chomp my face when a dark form loomed up behind it and shouted, “Mange des muffins!”
Slice!
The sphinx dissolved into smoke.
I tried to rise but couldn’t. Sadie stumbled over. “Carter! Oh god, are you
okay?”
I blinked at the other person—the one who had saved me: a tall, thin figure in a black, hooded raincoat. What had she yelled: Eat muffins? What kind of battle cry was that?
She threw off her coat, and a woman in a leopard-skin acrobatic suit grinned down at me, showing off her fangs and her lamplike yellow eyes.
“Miss me?” asked Bast.
