The Red Pyramid Part 22

"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 G.o.ds."

"Magicians can do that?" I asked. I imagined a big can of pesticide labeled G.o.d-Away.

"Alas, yes," Bast said. "I will not be able to cross the threshold uninvited. You, however-"

"I thought we're G.o.ds too," Sadie said.

"That's the beauty of it," Bast said. "As hosts, you are still quite human. I have taken full possession of m.u.f.fin, so I am pretty much me-a G.o.ddess. 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 G.o.dly 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 c.o.c.kroach 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 n.o.ble 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, m.u.f.fin.

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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s 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 gla.s.s 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 t.i.tles 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 p.r.o.nounced. "Ancient words of tremendous power!"

"Well?" I demanded. "Does it tell how to defeat Set?"

"Better! The t.i.tle 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-Francois 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 G.o.ds 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?"