The Red Pyramid, Page 21

  “Why is it called the ‘Set animal’?” Sadie asked nervously. “Doesn’t it have a name?”

  “If it did,” Bast said, “you would not want to speak it. It is merely known as the Set animal—the Red Lord’s symbolic creature. It shares his strength, cunning...and his evil nature.”

  “Lovely,” Sadie said.

  The animal sniffed at the monument and recoiled, snarling.

  “It doesn’t seem to like the obelisk,” I noticed.

  “No,” Bast said. “Too much Ma’at energy. But that won’t hold it back for long.”

  As if on cue, the Set animal leaped onto the side of the monument. It began climbing like a lion scaling a tree, digging its claws into the stone.

  “That’s messed up,” I said. “Elevator or stairs?”

  “Both are too slow,” Bast said. “Back away from the window.”

  She unsheathed her knives and sliced through the glass. She punched out the window, setting off alarm bells. Freezing air blasted into the observation room.

  “You’ll need to fly,” Bast yelled over the wind. “It’s the only way.”

  “No!” Sadie’s face went pale. “Not the kite again.”

  “Sadie, it’s okay,” I said.

  She shook her head, terrified.

  I grabbed her hand. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll make sure you turn back.”

  “The Set animal is halfway up,” Bast warned. “We’re running out of time.”

  Sadie glanced at Bast. “What about you? You can’t fly.”

  “I’ll jump,” she said. “Cats always land on their feet.”

  “It’s over a hundred meters!” Sadie cried.

  “A hundred and seventy,” Bast said. “I’ll distract the Set animal, buy you some time.”

  “You’ll be killed.” Sadie’s voice sounded close to breaking. “Please, I can’t lose you too.”

  Bast looked a little surprised. Then she smiled and put her hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine, dear. Meet me at Reagan National, terminal A. Be ready to run.”

  Before I could argue, Bast jumped out the window. My heart just about stopped. She plummeted straight toward the pavement. I was sure she’d die, but as she fell she spread her arms and legs and seemed to relax.

  She hurtled straight past the Set animal, which let out a horrible scream like a wounded man on a battlefield, then turned and leaped after her.

  Bast hit the ground with both feet and took off running. She must’ve been doing sixty miles an hour, easy. The Set animal wasn’t as agile. It crashed so hard, the pavement cracked. It stumbled for a few steps but didn’t appear hurt. Then it loped after Bast and was soon gaining on her.

  “She won’t make it,” Sadie fretted.

  “Never bet against a cat,” I said. “We’ve got to do our part. Ready?”

  She took a deep breath. “All right. Before I change my mind.”

  Instantly, a black-winged kite appeared in front of me, flapping its wings to keep its balance in the intense wind. I willed myself to become a falcon. It was even easier than before.

  A moment later, we soared into the cold morning air over Washington, D.C.

  Finding the airport was easy. Reagan National was so close, I could see the planes landing across the Potomac.

  The hard part was remembering what I was doing. Every time I saw a mouse or a squirrel, I instinctively veered toward it. A couple of times I caught myself about to dive, and I had to fight the urge. Once I looked over and realized I was a mile away from Sadie, who was off doing her own hunting. I had to force myself to fly next to her and get her attention.

  It takes willpower to stay human, the voice of Horus warned. The more time you spend as a bird of prey, the more you think like one.

  Now you tell me, I thought.

  I could help, he urged. Give me control.

  Not today, bird-head.

  Finally, I steered Sadie toward the airport, and we started hunting for a place to change back to human form. We landed at the top of a parking garage.

  I willed myself to turn human. Nothing happened.

  Panic started building in my throat. I closed my eyes and pictured my dad’s face. I thought about how much I missed him, how much I needed to find him.

  When I opened my eyes, I was back to normal. Unfortunately, Sadie was still a kite. She flapped around me and cawed frantically. “Ha—ha—ha!” There was a wild look in her eyes, and this time I understood how scared she was. Bird form had been hard enough for her to break out of the first time. If the second time took even more energy, she could be in serious trouble.

  “It’s all right.” I crouched down, careful to move slowly. “Sadie, don’t force it. You have to relax.”

  “Ha!” She tucked in her wings. Her chest was heaving.

  “Listen, it helped me to focus on Dad. Remember what’s important to you. Close your eyes and think about your human life.”

  She closed her eyes, but almost instantly cried out in frustration and flapped her wings.

  “Stop,” I said. “Don’t fly away!”

  She tilted her head and gurgled in a pleading way. I started talking to her the way I would to a scared animal. I wasn’t really paying attention to the words. I was just trying to keep my tone calm. But after a minute I realized I was telling her about my travels with Dad, and the memories that had helped me get out of bird form. I told her about the time Dad and I got stuck in the Venice airport and I ate so many cannoli, I got sick. I told her about the time in Egypt when I found the scorpion in my sock, and Dad managed to kill it with a TV remote control. I told her how we’d gotten separated once in the London Underground and how scared I was until Dad finally found me. I told her some pretty embarrassing stories that I’d never shared with anyone, because who could I share them with? And it seemed to me that Sadie listened. At least she stopped flapping her wings. Her breathing slowed. She became very still, and her eyes didn’t look so panicked.

  “Okay, Sadie,” I said at last. “I’ve got an idea. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  I took Dad’s magic box out of its leather bag. I wrapped the bag around my forearm and tied it with the straps as best I could. “Hop on.”

  Sadie flew up and perched at my wrist. Even with my makeshift armguard, her sharp talons dug into my skin.

  “We’ll get you out of this,” I said. “Keep trying. Relax, and focus on your human life. You’ll figure it out, Sadie. I know you will. I’ll carry you until then.”

  “Ha.”

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s find Bast.”

  With my sister perched on my arm, I walked to the elevator. A businessman with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. His eyes widened when he saw me. I must’ve looked pretty strange—a tall black kid in dirty, ragged Egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other.

  “How’s it going?” I said.

  “I’ll take the stairs.” He hurried off.

  The elevator took me to the ground level. Sadie and I crossed to the departures curb. I looked around desperately, hoping to see Bast, but instead I caught the attention of a curbside policeman. The guy frowned and started lumbering in my direction.

  “Stay calm,” I told Sadie. Resisting the urge to run, I turned and walked through the revolving doors.

  Here’s the thing—I always get a little edgy around police. I remember when I was like seven or eight and still a cute little kid, it wasn’t a problem; but as soon as I hit eleven, I started to get the Look, like What’s that kid doing here? Is he going to steal something? I mean it’s ridiculous, but it’s a fact. I’m not saying it happens with every police officer, but when it doesn’t happen—let’s just say it’s a pleasant surprise.

  This was not one of the pleasant times. I knew the cop was going to follow me, and I knew I had to act calm and walk like I had a purpose...which is not easy with a kite on your arm.

  Christmas vacation, so the airport was pretty full—mostl
y families standing in line at the ticket counters, kids arguing and parents labeling luggage. I wondered what that would be like: a normal family trip, no magic problems or monsters chasing you.

  Stop it, I told myself. You’ve got work to do.

  But I didn’t know where to go. Would Bast be inside security? Outside? The crowds parted as I walked through the terminal. People stared at Sadie. I knew I couldn’t wander around looking lost. It was only a matter of time before the cops—

  “Young man.”

  I turned. It was the police officer from outside. Sadie squawked, and the cop backed up, resting his hand on his nightstick.

  “You can’t have pets in here,” he told me.

  “I have tickets....” I tried to reach my pockets. Then I remembered that Bast had our tickets.

  The cop scowled. “You’d better come with me.”

  Suddenly a woman’s voice called: “There you are, Carter!”

  Bast was hurrying over, pushing her way through the crowd. I’d never been happier to see an Egyptian god in my life.

  Somehow she’d managed to change clothes. She wore a rose-colored pantsuit, lots of gold jewelry, and a cashmere coat, so she looked like a wealthy businesswoman. Ignoring the cop, she sized up my appearance and wrinkled her nose. “Carter, I told you not to wear those horrible falconry clothes. Honestly, you look like you’ve been sleeping in the wild!”

  She took out a handkerchief and made a big production of wiping my face, while the policeman stared.

  “Uh, ma’am,” he finally managed. “Is this your—”

  “Nephew,” Bast lied. “I’m so sorry, officer. We’re heading to Memphis for a falconry competition. I hope he hasn’t caused any problems. We’re going to miss our flight!”

  “Um, the falcon can’t fly...”

  Bast giggled. “Well, of course it can fly, officer. It’s a bird!”

  His face reddened. “I mean on a plane.”

  “Oh! We have the paperwork.” To my amazement, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to the cop, along with our tickets.

  “I see,” the cop said. He looked our tickets over. “You bought...a first class ticket for your falcon.”

  “It’s a black kite, actually,” Bast said. “But yes, it’s a very temperamental bird. A prizewinner, you know. Give it a coach seat and try to offer it pretzels, and I won’t be held responsible for the consequences. No, we always fly first class, don’t we, Carter?”

  “Um, yeah...Aunt Kitty.”

  She flashed me a look that said: I’ll get you for that. Then she went back to smiling at the cop, who handed back our tickets and Sadie’s “paperwork.”

  “Well, if you’ll excuse us, officer. That’s a very handsome uniform, by the way. Do you work out?” Before he could respond, Bast grabbed my arm and hurried me toward the security checkpoint. “Don’t look back,” she said under her breath.

  As soon as we turned the corner, Bast pulled me aside by the vending machines.

  “The Set animal is close,” she said. “We’ve got a few minutes at best. What’s wrong with Sadie?”

  “She can’t...” I stammered. “I don’t know exactly.”

  “Well, we’ll have to figure it out on the plane.”

  “How did you change clothes?” I asked. “And the document for the bird...”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, mortal minds are weak. That ‘document’ is an empty ticket sleeve. And my clothes haven’t really changed. It’s just a glamour.”

  I looked at her more closely, and I saw she was right. Her new clothes flickered like a mirage over her usual leopard-skin bodysuit. As soon as she pointed it out, the magic seemed flimsy and obvious.

  “We’ll try to make it to the gate before the Set animal,” she said. “It will be easier if you stow your things in the Duat.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t really want to tote that box around under your arm, do you? Use the Duat as a storage bin.”

  “How?”

  Bast rolled her eyes. “Honestly, what do they teach magicians these days?”

  “We had about twenty seconds of training!”

  “Just imagine a space in the air, like a shelf or a treasure chest—”

  “A locker?” I asked. “I’ve never had a school locker.”

  “Fine. Give it a combination lock—anything you want. Imagine opening the locker with your combination. Then shove the box inside. When you need it again, just call it to mind, and it will appear.”

  I was skeptical, but I imagined a locker. I gave it a combination: 13/32/33—retired numbers for the Lakers, obviously: Chamberlain, Johnson, Abdul-Jabbar. I held out my dad’s magic box and let it go, sure it would smash to the floor. Instead, the box disappeared.

  “Cool,” I said. “Are you sure I can get it back?”

  “No,” Bast said. “Now, come on!”

  C A R T E R

  22. Leroy Meets the Locker of Doom

  I’D NEVER GONE THROUGH SECURITY with a live bird of prey before. I thought it would cause a holdup, but instead the guards moved us into a special line. They checked our paperwork. Bast smiled a lot, flirted with the guards and told them they must be working out, and they waved us through. Bast’s knives didn’t set off the alarms, so maybe she’d stored them in the Duat. The guards didn’t even try to put Sadie through the X-ray machine.

  I was retrieving my shoes when I heard a scream from the other side of security.

  Bast cursed in Egyptian. “We were too slow.”

  I looked back and saw the Set animal charging through the terminal, knocking passengers out of its way. Its weird rabbit ears swiveled back and forth. Foam dripped from its curved, toothy snout, and its forked tail lashed around, looking for something to sting.

  “Moose!” a lady screamed. “Rabid moose!”

  Everyone started screaming, running in different directions and blocking the Set animal’s path.

  “Moose?” I wondered.

  Bast shrugged. “No telling what mortals will perceive. Now the idea will spread by power of suggestion.”

  Sure enough, more passengers started yelling “Moose!” and running around as the Set animal plowed through the lines and got tangled up in the stanchions. TSA officers surged forward, but the Set animal tossed them aside like rag dolls.

  “Come on!” Bast told me.

  “I can’t just let it hurt these people.”

  “We can’t stop it!”

  But I didn’t move. I wanted to believe Horus was giving me courage, or that maybe the past few days had finally woken up some dormant bravery gene I’d inherited from my parents. But the truth was scarier. This time, nobody was making me take a stand. I wanted to do it.

  People were in trouble because of us. I had to fix it. I felt the same kind of instinct I felt when Sadie needed my help, like it was time for me to step up. And yes, it terrified me. But it also felt right.

  “Go to the gate,” I told Bast. “Take Sadie. I’ll meet you there.”

  “What? Carter—”

  “Go!” I imagined opening my invisible locker: 13/32/33. I reached out my hand, but not for my dad’s magic box. I concentrated on something I’d lost in Luxor. It had to be there. For a moment, I felt nothing. Then my hand closed around a hard leather grip, and I pulled my sword out of nowhere.

  Bast’s eyes widened. “Impressive.”

  “Get moving,” I said. “It’s my turn to run interference.”

  “You realize it’ll kill you.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now, scat!”

  Bast took off at top speed, Sadie flapping to stay balanced on her arm.

  A shot rang out. I turned and saw the Set animal plow into a cop who’d just fired at its head to no effect. The poor cop flew backward and toppled over the metal detector gate.

  “Hey, moose!” I screamed.

  The Set animal locked its glowing eyes on me.

  Well done! Horus said. We will die with honor!

  S
hut up, I thought.

  I glanced behind me to make sure Bast and Sadie were out of sight. Then I approached the creature.

  “So you’ve got no name?” I asked. “They couldn’t think of one ugly enough?”

  The creature snarled, stepping over the unconscious policeman.

  “Set animal is too hard to say,” I decided. “I’ll call you Leroy.”

  Apparently, Leroy didn’t like his name. He lunged.

  I dodged his claws and managed to smack him in the snout with the flat of my blade, but that barely fazed him. Leroy backed up and charged again, slavering, baring his fangs. I slashed at his neck, but Leroy was too smart. He darted to the left and sank his teeth into my free arm. If it hadn’t been for my makeshift leather armguard, I would’ve been minus one arm. As it was, Leroy’s fangs still bit clear through the leather. Red-hot pain shot up my arm.

  I yelled, and a primal surge of power coursed through my body. I felt myself rising off the ground and the golden aura of the hawk warrior forming around me. The Set animal’s jaws were pried open so fast that it yelped and let go of my arm. I stood, now encased in a magical barrier twice my normal size, and kicked Leroy into the wall.

  Good! said Horus. Now dispatch the beast to the netherworld!

  Quiet, man. I’m doing all the work.

  I was vaguely aware of security guards trying to regroup, yelling into their walkie-talkies and calling for help. Travelers were still screaming and running around. I heard a little girl shout: “Chicken man, get the moose!”

  You know how hard it is to feel like an extreme falcon-headed combat machine when somebody calls you “chicken man”?

  I raised my sword, which was now at the center of a ten-foot-long energy blade.

  Leroy shook the dust off his cone-shaped ears, and came at me again. My armored form might’ve been powerful, but it was also clumsy and slow; moving it around felt like moving through Jell-O. Leroy dodged my sword strike and landed on my chest, knocking me down. He was a lot heavier than he looked. His tail and claws raked against my armor. I caught his neck in my glowing fists and tried to keep his fangs away from my face, but everywhere he drooled, my magical shield hissed and steamed. I could feel my wounded arm going numb.