The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)

The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1) Page 58

The trench looked easy enough to jump, but I wasn’t anxious to do so because inside the room, the entire floor was carved with red hieroglyphs—all spells invoking the power of Isfet, chaos. Far above in the center of the ceiling, a single square hole let in blood-red light. Otherwise, there seemed to be no exits. Along either wall crouched four obsidian statues of the Set animal, their faces turned towards us with pearl teeth bared and emerald eyes glittering.

But the worst part was the throne itself. It was a horrid misshapen thing, like a red stalagmite that had grown haphazardly from centuries of dripping sediment. And it had formed itself around a gold coffin—Dad’s coffin—which was buried in the throne’s base, with just enough of it sticking out to form a kind of footrest.

“How do we get him out?” I said, my voice trembling.

Next to me, Carter caught his breath. “Amos?”

I followed his gaze up to the glowing red vent in the middle of the ceiling. A pair of legs dangled from the opening. Then Amos dropped down, opening his cloak like a parachute so that he floated to the floor. His clothes were still smoking, his hair dusted with ash. He pointed his staff towards the ceiling and spoke a command. The shaft he’d come through rumbled, spilling dust and rubble, and the light was abruptly cut off.

Amos dusted off his clothes and smiled at us. “That should hold them for a while.”

“How did you do that?” I asked.

He gestured for us to join him in the room.

Carter jumped the trench without hesitation. I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to let him go without me, so I hopped the trench too. Immediately I felt even queasier than before, as if the room were tilting, throwing my senses off balance.

Zia came over last, eyeing Amos carefully.

“You should not be alive,” she said.

Amos chuckled. “Oh, I’ve heard that before. Now, let’s get to business.”

“Yes.” I stared at the throne. “How do we get the coffin out?”

“Cut it?” Carter drew his sword, but Amos held up his hand.

“No, children. That’s not the business I mean. I’ve made sure no one will interrupt us. Now it’s time we talked.”

A cold tingle started up my spine. “Talked?”

Suddenly Amos fell to his knees and began to convulse. I ran towards him, but he looked up at me, his face racked with pain. His eyes were molten red.

“Run!” he groaned.

He collapsed, and red steam issued from his body.

“We have to go!” Zia grabbed my arm. “Now!”

But I watched, frozen in horror, as the steam rose from Amos’s unconscious form and drifted towards the throne, slowly taking the shape of a seated man—a red warrior in fiery armor, with an iron staff in his hand and the head of a canine monster.

“Oh, dear,” Set laughed. “I suppose Zia gets to say ‘I told you so.’”

Chapter 37. Leroy Gets His Revenge

MAYBE I’M A SLOW LEARNER, OKAY?

Because it wasn’t until that moment, facing the god Set in the middle of his throne room, in the heart of an evil pyramid, with an army of demons outside and the world about to explode, that I thought, Coming here was a really bad idea.

Set rose from his throne. He was red skinned and muscular, with fiery armor and a black iron staff. His head shifted from bestial to human. One moment he had the hungry stare and slavering jaws of my old friend Leroy, the monster from the D.C. airport. The next he had sandy hair and a handsome but harsh face, with intelligent eyes that sparkled with humor and a cruel, crooked smile. He kicked our uncle out of the way and Amos groaned, which at least meant he was alive.

I was clenching my sword so tight, the blade trembled.

“Zia was right,” I said. “You possessed Amos.”

Set spread his hands, trying to look modest. “Well, you know...It wasn’t a full possession. Gods can exist in many places at once, Carter. Horus could tell you that if he was being honest. I’m sure Horus has been looking for a nice war monument to occupy, or a military academy somewhere—anything but that scrawny little form of yours. Most of my being has now transferred to this magnificent structure.”

He swept his arm proudly around the throne room. “But a sliver of my soul was quite enough to control Amos Kane.”

He held out his pinky, and a wisp of red smoke snaked toward Amos, sinking into his clothes. Amos arched his back like he’d been hit by lightning.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

I ran toward Amos, but the red mist had already dissipated. Our uncle’s body went slack.

Set dropped his hand as if bored with the attack. “Not much left, I’m afraid. Amos fought well. He was very entertaining, demanding much more of my energy than I had anticipated. That chaos magic—that was his idea. He tried his best to warn you, to make it obvious I was controlling him. The funny thing is, I forced him to use his own magic reserves to pull off those spells. He almost burned out his soul trying to send you those warning flares. Turn you into a storm? Please. Who does that anymore?”

“You’re a beast!” Sadie shouted.

Set gasped in mock surprise. “Really? Me?”

Then he roared with laughter as Sadie tried to drag Amos out of harm’s way.

“Amos was in London that night,” I said, hoping to keep his attention on me. “He must’ve followed us to the British Museum, and you’ve been controlling him ever since. Desjardins was never your host.”

“Oh, that commoner? Please,” Set sneered. “We always prefer blood of the pharaohs, as I’m sure you’ve heard. But I did love fooling you. I thought the bon soir was an especially nice touch.”

“You knew my ba was there, watching. You forced Amos to sabotage his own house so your monsters could get in. You made him walk into an ambush. Why didn’t you just have him kidnap us?”

Set spread his hands. “As I said, Amos put up a good fight. There were certain things I could not make him do without destroying him completely, and I didn’t want to ruin my new plaything quite so soon.”

Anger burned inside me. Amos’s odd behavior finally made sense. Yes, he had been controlled by Set, but he’d been fighting it all the way. The conflict I’d felt in him had been his attempts to warn us. He’d almost destroyed himself trying to save us, and Set had thrown him aside like a broken toy.

Give me control, Horus urged. We will avenge him.

I’ve got this, I said.

No! Horus said. You must let me. You are not ready.

Set laughed as if he could sense our struggle. “Oh, poor Horus. Your host needs training wheels. You seriously expect to challenge me with that?”

For the first time, Horus and I had the same feeling at exactly the same moment: rage.

Without thinking, we raised our hand, extending our energy toward Set. A glowing fist slammed into him, and the Red God flew backward with such force, he cracked a column, which tumbled down on top of him.

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the trickle of dust and debris. Then out of the rubble came a deep howl of laughter. Set rose from the ruins, tossing aside a huge chunk of stone.

“Nice!” he roared. “Completely ineffective, but nice! It will be a pleasure chopping you to bits, Horus, as I did your father before you. I will entomb you all in this chamber to increase my storm—all four of my precious siblings, and the storm will be large enough to envelop the world!”

I blinked, momentarily losing my focus. “Four?”

“Oh, yes.” Set’s eyes drifted to Zia, who had quietly retreated to one side of the room. “I haven’t forgotten you, my dear.”

Zia glanced at me in desperation. “Carter, don’t worry about me. He’s trying to distract you.”

“Lovely goddess,” Set purred. “The form does not do you justice, but your choices were limited, weren’t they?”

Set moved toward her, his staff beginning to glow.

“No!” I shouted. I advanced, but Set was just as good at magical shoving as I was. He pointed at me, and I slammed against the wall, pinned as if an entire football team were holding me down.

“Carter!” Sadie cried. “She’s Nephthys. She can take care of herself!”

“No.” All my instincts told me Zia couldn’t be Nephthys. At first I’d thought so, but the more I considered, the more it seemed wrong. I felt no divine magic from her, and something told me I would have if she were really hosting a goddess.

Set would crush her unless I helped. But if Set was trying to distract me, it was working. As he stalked toward Zia, I struggled against his magic, but I couldn’t free myself. The more I tried to combine my power with Horus’s, the way I’d done before, the more my fear and panic got in the way.

You must yield to me! Horus insisted, and the two of us wrestled for control of my mind, which gave me a splitting headache.

Set took another step toward Zia.

“Ah, Nephthys,” he crooned. “At the beginning of time, you were my treacherous sister. In another incarnation, in another age, you were my treacherous wife. Now, I think you’ll make a nice appetizer. True, you’re the weakest of us all, but you’re still one of the five, and there is power in collecting the complete set.”

He paused, then grinned. “The complete Set! That’s funny! Now let’s consume your energy and entomb your soul, shall we?”

Zia thrust out her wand. A red sphere of defensive energy glowed around her, but even I could tell it was weak. Set shot a blast of sand from his staff and the sphere collapsed. Zia stumbled backward, the sand ripping at her hair and clothes. I struggled to move, but Zia yelled, “Carter, I’m not important! Stay focused! Don’t resist!”

She raised her staff and shouted, “The House of Life!”

She launched a bolt of fire at Set—an attack that must have cost all of her remaining energy. Set batted the flames aside, straight at Sadie, who had to raise her wand quickly to protect herself and Amos from getting fried. Set tugged at the air as if pulling an invisible rope, and Zia flew toward him like a rag doll, straight into his hand.

Don’t resist. How could Zia say that? I resisted like crazy, but it didn’t do me any good. All I could do was stare helplessly as Set lowered his face to Zia’s and examined her.

At first Set seemed triumphant, gleeful, but his expression quickly turned to confusion. He scowled, his eyes flaring.

“What trick is this?” he growled. “Where have you hidden her?”

“You will not possess her,” Zia managed, her breath choked off by his grip.

“Where is she?” He threw Zia aside.

She slammed against the wall and would’ve slid into the moat, but Sadie yelled “Wind!” and a gust of air lifted Zia’s body just enough for her to tumble onto the floor.

Sadie ran over and dragged her away from the glowing trench.

Set roared, “Is this your trickery, Isis?” He sent another blast of sandstorm against them, but Sadie held up her wand. The storm met a shield of force that deflected the wind around it—the sand pitted the walls behind Sadie, making a halo-shaped scar in the rock.