The Red Pyramid Read online

  “Joined with?”

  Amos held up his hand. “Another long conversation. For now, let’s just say he drew the power of Osiris into himself. But he never got the chance to use it because, according to what Sadie has told me, it appears that Julius released five gods from the Rosetta Stone. Five gods who were all trapped together.”

  I glanced at Sadie. “You told him everything?”

  “He’s going to help us, Carter.”

  I wasn’t quite ready to trust this guy, even if he was our uncle, but I decided I didn’t have much choice.

  “Okay, yeah,” I said. “The fiery guy said something like ‘You released all five.’ What did he mean?”

  Amos sipped his coffee. The faraway look on his face reminded me of my dad. “I don’t want to scare you.”

  “Too late.”

  “The gods of Egypt are very dangerous. For the last two thousand years or so, we magicians have spent much of our time binding and banishing them whenever they appear. In fact, our most important law, issued by Chief Lector Iskandar in Roman times, forbids unleashing the gods or using their power. Your father broke that law once before.”

  Sadie’s face paled. “Does this have something to do with Mum’s death? Cleopatra’s Needle in London?”

  “It has everything to do with that, Sadie. Your parents...well, they thought they were doing something good. They took a terrible risk, and it cost your mother her life. Your father took the blame. He was exiled, I suppose you would say. Banished. He was forced to move around constantly because the House monitored his activities. They feared he would continue his...research. As indeed he did.”

  I thought about the times Dad would look over his shoulder as he copied some ancient inscriptions, or wake me up at three or four in the morning and insist it was time to change hotels, or warn me not to look in his workbag or copy certain pictures from old temple walls—as if our lives depended on it.

  “Is that why you never came round?” Sadie asked Amos. “Because Dad was banished?”

  “The House forbade me to see him. I loved Julius. It hurt me to stay away from my brother, and from you children. But I could not see you—until last night, when I simply had no choice but to try to help. Julius has been obsessed with finding Osiris for years. He was consumed with grief because of what happened to your mother. When I learned that Julius was about to break the law again, to try to set things right, I had to stop him. A second offense would’ve meant a death sentence. Unfortunately, I failed. I should’ve known he was too stubborn.”

  I looked down at my plate. My food had gotten cold. Muffin leaped onto the table and rubbed against my hand. When I didn’t object, she started eating my bacon.

  “Last night at the museum,” I said, “the girl with the knife, the man with the forked beard—they were magicians too? From the House of Life?”

  “Yes,” Amos said. “Keeping an eye on your father. You are fortunate they let you go.”

  “The girl wanted to kill us,” I remembered. “But the guy with the beard said, not yet.”

  “They don’t kill unless it is absolutely necessary,” Amos said. “They will wait to see if you are a threat.”

  “Why would we be a threat?” Sadie demanded. “We’re children! The summoning wasn’t our idea.”

  Amos pushed away his plate. “There is a reason you two were raised separately.”

  “Because the Fausts took Dad to court,” I said matter-of-factly. “And Dad lost.”

  “It was much more than that,” Amos said. “The House insisted you two be separated. Your father wanted to keep you both, even though he knew how dangerous it was.”

  Sadie looked like she’d been smacked between the eyes. “He did?”

  “Of course. But the House intervened and made sure your grandparents got custody of you, Sadie. If you and Carter were raised together, you could become very powerful. Perhaps you have already sensed changes over the past day.”

  I thought about the surges of strength I’d been feeling, and the way Sadie suddenly seemed to know how to read Ancient Egyptian. Then I thought of something even further back.

  “Your sixth birthday,” I told Sadie.

  “The cake,” she said immediately, the memory passing between us like an electric spark.

  At Sadie’s sixth birthday party, the last one we’d shared as a family, Sadie and I had a huge argument. I don’t remember what it was about. I think I wanted to blow out the candles for her. We started yelling. She grabbed my shirt. I pushed her. I remember Dad rushing toward us, trying to intervene, but before he could, Sadie’s birthday cake exploded. Icing splattered the walls, our parents, the faces of Sadie’s little six-year-old friends. Dad and Mom separated us. They sent me to my room. Later, they said we must’ve hit the cake by accident as we were fighting, but I knew we hadn’t. Something much weirder had made it explode, as if it had responded to our anger. I remembered Sadie crying with a chunk of cake on her forehead, an upside-down candle stuck to the ceiling with its wick still burning, and an adult visitor, one of my parents’ friends, his glasses speckled with white frosting.

  I turned to Amos. “That was you. You were at Sadie’s party.”

  “Vanilla icing,” he recalled. “Very tasty. But it was clear even then that you two would be difficult to raise in the same household.”

  “And so...” I faltered. “What happens to us now?”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from Sadie again. She wasn’t much, but she was all I had.

  “You must be trained properly,” Amos said, “whether the House approves or not.”

  “Why wouldn’t they approve?” I asked.

  “I will explain everything, don’t worry. But we must start your lessons if we are to stand any chance of finding your father and putting things right. Otherwise the entire world is in danger. If we only knew where—”

  “Phoenix,” I blurted out.

  Amos stared at me. “What?”

  “Last night I had...well, not a dream, exactly...” I felt stupid, but I told him what had happened while I slept.

  Judging from Amos’s expression, the news was even worse than I thought.

  “You’re sure he said ‘birthday present’?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but what does that mean?”

  “And a permanent host,” Amos said. “He didn’t have one yet?”

  “Well, that’s what the rooster-footed guy said—”

  “That was a demon,” Amos said. “A minion of chaos. And if demons are coming through to the mortal world, we don’t have much time. This is bad, very bad.”

  “If you live in Phoenix,” I said.

  “Carter, our enemy won’t stop in Phoenix. If he’s grown so powerful so fast...What did he say about the storm, exactly?”

  “He said: ‘I will summon the greatest storm ever known.’”

  Amos scowled. “The last time he said that, he created the Sahara. A storm that large could destroy North America, generating enough chaos energy to give him an almost invincible form.”

  “What are you talking about? Who is this guy?”

  Amos waved away the question. “More important right now: why didn’t you sleep with the headrest?”

  I shrugged. “It was uncomfortable.” I looked at Sadie for support. “You didn’t use it, did you?”

  Sadie rolled her eyes. “Well, of course I did. It was obviously there for a reason.”

  Sometimes I really hate my sister. [Ow! That’s my foot!]

  “Carter,” Amos said, “sleep is dangerous. It’s a doorway into the Duat.”

  “Lovely,” Sadie grumbled. “Another strange word.”

  “Ah...yes, sorry,” Amos said. “The Duat is the world of spirits and magic. It exists beneath the waking world like a vast ocean, with many layers and regions. We submerged just under its surface last night to reach New York, because travel through the Duat is much faster. Carter, your consciousness also passed through its shallowest c
urrents as you slept, which is how you witnessed what happened in Phoenix. Fortunately, you survived that experience. But the deeper you go into the Duat, the more horrible things you encounter, and the more difficult it is to return. There are entire realms filled with demons, palaces where the gods exist in their pure forms, so powerful their mere presence would burn a human to ashes. There are prisons that hold beings of unspeakable evil, and some chasms so deep and chaotic that not even the gods dare explore them. Now that your powers are stirring, you must not sleep without protection, or you leave yourself open to attacks from the Duat or...unintended journeys through it. The headrest is enchanted, to keep your consciousness anchored to your body.”

  “You mean I actually did...” My mouth tasted like metal. “Could he have killed me?”

  Amos’s expression was grave. “The fact that your soul can travel like that means you are progressing faster than I thought. Faster than should be possible. If the Red Lord had noticed you—”

  “The Red Lord?” Sadie said. “That’s the fiery bloke?”

  Amos rose. “I must find out more. We can’t simply wait for him to find you. And if he releases the storm on his birthday, at the height of his powers—”

  “You mean you’re going to Phoenix?” I could barely get the words out. “Amos, that fiery man defeated Dad like his magic was a joke! Now he’s got demons, and he’s getting stronger, and—you’ll be killed!”

  Amos gave me a dry smile, like he’d already weighed the dangers and didn’t need a reminder. His expression reminded me painfully of Dad’s. “Don’t count your uncle out so quickly, Carter. I’ve got some magic of my own. Besides, I must see what is happening for myself if we’re to have any chance at saving your father and stopping the Red Lord. I’ll be quick and careful. Just stay here. Muffin will guard you.”

  I blinked. “The cat will guard us? You can’t just leave us here! What about our training?”

  “When I return,” Amos promised. “Don’t worry, the mansion is protected. Just do not leave. Do not be tricked into opening the door for anyone. And whatever happens, do not go into the library. I absolutely forbid it. I will be back by sunset.”

  Before we could protest, Amos walked calmly to the edge of the terrace and jumped.

  “No!” Sadie screamed. We ran to the railing and looked over. Below was a hundred-foot drop into the East River. There was no sign of Amos. He’d simply vanished.

  Philip of Macedonia splashed in his pool. Muffin jumped onto the railing and insisted we pet her.

  We were alone in a strange mansion with a baboon, a crocodile, and a weird cat. And apparently, the entire world was in danger.

  I looked at Sadie. “What do we do now?”

  She crossed her arms. “Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it? We explore the library.”

  S A D I E

  7. I Drop a Little Man on His Head

  HONESTLY, CARTER IS SO THICK sometimes I can’t believe we’re related.

  I mean when someone says I forbid it, that’s a good sign it’s worth doing. I made for the library straightaway.

  “Hold on!” Carter cried. “You can’t just—”

  “Brother dear,” I said, “did your soul leave your body again while Amos was talking, or did you actually hear him? Egyptian gods real. Red Lord bad. Red Lord’s birthday: very soon, very bad. House of Life: fussy old magicians who hate our family because Dad was a bit of a rebel, whom by the way you could take a lesson from. Which leaves us—just us—with Dad missing, an evil god about to destroy the world, and an uncle who just jumped off the building—and I can’t actually blame him.” I took a breath. [Yes, Carter, I do have to breathe occasionally.] “Am I missing anything? Oh, yes, I also have a brother who is supposedly quite powerful from an ancient bloodline, blah, blah, et cetera, but is too afraid to visit a library. Now, coming or not?”

  Carter blinked as if I’d just hit him, which I suppose I had in a way.

  “I just...” He faltered. “I just think we should be careful.”

  I realized the poor boy was quite scared, which I couldn’t hold against him, but it did startle me. Carter was my big brother, after all—older, more sophisticated, the one who traveled the world with Dad. Big brothers are the ones who are supposed to pull their punches. Little sisters—well, we should be able to hit as hard as we like, shouldn’t we? But I realized that possibly, just possibly, I’d been a bit harsh with him.

  “Look,” I said. “We need to help Dad, yes? There’s got to be some powerful stuff in that library, otherwise Amos wouldn’t keep it locked up. You do want to help Dad?”

  Carter shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah...of course.”

  Well, that was one problem sorted, so we headed for the library. But as soon as Khufu saw what we were up to, he scrambled off the sofa with his basketball and jumped in front of the library doors. Who knew baboons were so speedy? He barked at us, and I have to say baboons have enormous fangs. And they’re not any prettier when they’ve been chewing up exotic pink birds.

  Carter tried to reason with him. “Khufu, we’re not going to steal anything. We just want—”

  “Agh!” Khufu dribbled his basketball angrily.

  “Carter,” I said, “you’re not helping. Look here, Khufu. I have...ta-da!” I held up a little yellow box of cereal I’d taken from the buffet table. “Cheerios! Ends with an -o. Yumsies!”

  “Aghhh!” Khufu grunted, more excited now than angry.

  “Want it?” I coaxed. “Just take it to the couch and pretend you didn’t see us, yes?”

  I threw the cereal towards the couch, and the baboon lunged after it. He grabbed the box in midair and was so excited, he ran straight up the wall and sat on the fireplace mantel, where he began gingerly picking out Cheerios and eating them one at a time.

  Carter looked at me with grudging admiration. “How did you—”

  “Some of us think ahead. Now, let’s open these doors.”

  That was not so easily done. They were made of thick wood laced with giant steel chains and padlocked. Complete overkill.

  Carter stepped forward. He tried to raise the doors by lifting his hand, which had been quite impressive the night before, only now accomplished nothing.

  He shook the chains the old-fashioned way, then yanked on the padlocks.

  “No good,” he said.

  Ice needles tingled on the back of my neck. It was almost as if someone—or something—was whispering an idea in my head. “What was that word Amos used at breakfast with the saucer?”

  “For ‘join’?” Carter said. “Hi-nehm or something.”

  “No, the other one, for ‘destroy’.”

  “Uh, ha-di. But you’d need to know magic and the hieroglyphics, wouldn’t you? And even then—”

  I raised my hand toward the door. I pointed with two fingers and my thumb—an odd gesture I’d never made before, like a make-believe gun except with the thumb parallel to the ground.

  “Ha-di!”

  Bright gold hieroglyphs burned against the largest padlock.

  And the doors exploded. Carter hit the floor as chains shattered and splinters flew all over the Great Room. When the dust cleared, Carter got up, covered in wood shavings. I seemed to be fine. Muffin circled my feet, mewing contentedly, as if this were all very normal.

  Carter stared at me. “How exactly—”

  “Don’t know,” I admitted. “But the library’s open.”

  “Think you overdid it a little? We’re going to be in so much trouble—”

  “We’ll just figure out a way to zap the door back, won’t we?”

  “No more zapping, please,” Carter said. “That explosion could’ve killed us.”

  “Oh, do you think if you tried that spell on a person—”

  “No!” He stepped back nervously.

  I felt gratified that I could make him squirm, but I tried not to smile. “Let’s just explore the library, shall we?”

  The truth was, I couldn’t have ha-di-ed anyone. As soon as
I stepped forward, I felt so faint that I almost collapsed.

  Carter caught me as I stumbled. “You okay?”

  “Fine,” I managed, though I didn’t feel fine. “I’m tired”—my stomach rumbled—“and famished.”

  “You just ate a huge breakfast.”

  It was true, but I felt as if I hadn’t had food in weeks.

  “Never mind,” I told him. “I’ll manage.”

  Carter studied me skeptically. “Those hieroglyphs you created were golden. Dad and Amos both used blue. Why?”

  “Maybe everyone has his own color,” I suggested. “Maybe you’ll get hot pink.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Come on, pink wizard,” I said. “Inside we go.”

  The library was so amazing, I almost forgot my dizziness. It was bigger than I’d imagined, a round chamber sunk deep into solid rock, like a giant well. This didn’t make sense, as the mansion was sitting on top of a warehouse, but then again nothing else about the place was exactly normal.

  From the platform where we stood, a staircase descended three stories to the bottom floor. The walls, floor, and domed ceiling were all decorated with multicolored pictures of people, gods, and monsters. I’d seen such illustrations in Dad’s books (yes, all right, sometimes when I was in the Piccadilly bookshop I’d wander into the Egypt section and sneak a look at Dad’s books, just to feel some connection to him, not because I wanted to read them) but the pictures in the books had always been faded and smudged. These in the library looked newly painted, making the entire room a work of art.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said.

  A blue starry sky glittered on the ceiling, but it wasn’t a solid field of blue. Rather, the sky was painted in a strange swirling pattern. I realized it was shaped like a woman. She lay curled on her side—her body, arms, and legs dark blue and dotted with stars. Below, the library floor was done in a similar way, the green-and-brown earth shaped into a man’s body, dotted with forests and hills and cities. A river snaked across his chest.

  The library had no books. Not even bookshelves. Instead, the walls were honeycombed with round cubbyholes, each one holding a sort of plastic cylinder.