The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(108)

Behind her was a vendor’s table full of tourist souvenirs, and a poster that read: new mexico: land of enchantment. I doubted the vendor knew just how much enchantment was standing right in front of his merchandise.

“You came,” Zia said, which seemed a bit on the obvious side. Was it my imagination, or was she looking at Amos with apprehension—even fear?

“Yeah,” Carter said nervously. “You, uh, remember Sadie. And this is—”

“Amos,” Zia said uneasily.

Amos bowed. “Zia Rashid, it’s been several years. I see Iskandar sent his best.”

Zia looked as if he’d smacked her in the face, and I realized Amos hadn’t heard the news.

“Um, Amos,” I said. “Iskandar is dead.”

He stared at us in disbelief as we told him the story.

“I see,” he said at last. “Then the new Chief Lector is—”

“Desjardins,” I said.

“Ah. Bad news.”

Zia frowned. Instead of addressing Amos, she turned to me. “Do not dismiss Desjardins. He’s very powerful. You’ll need his help—our help—to challenge Set.”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” I said, “that Desjardins might be helping Set?”

Zia glared at me. “Never. Others might. But not Desjardins.”

Clearly she meant Amos. I suppose that should’ve made me even more suspicious of him, but instead I got angry.

“You’re blind,” I told Zia. “Desjardins’ first order as Chief Lector was to have us killed. He’s trying to stop us, even though he knows Set is about to destroy the continent. And Desjardins was there that night at the British Museum. If Set needed a body—”

The top of Zia’s staff burst into flame.

Carter quickly moved between us. “Whoa, both of you just calm down. We’re here to talk.”

“I am talking,” Zia said. “You need the House of Life on your side. You have to convince Desjardins you’re not a threat.”

“By surrendering?” I asked. “No, thank you. I’d rather not be turned into a bug and squashed.”

Amos cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Sadie is right. Unless Desjardins has changed since I last saw him, he is not a man who will listen to reason.”

Zia fumed. “Carter, could we speak in private?”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Look, Zia, I—I agree we need to work together. But if you’re going to try to convince me to surrender to the House—”

“There’s something I must tell you,” she insisted. “Something you need to know.”

The way she said that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Could this be what Geb meant? Was it possible that Zia held the key to defeating Set?

Suddenly Amos tensed. He pulled his staff out of thin air and said, “It’s a trap.”

Zia looked stunned. “What? No!”

Then we all saw what Amos had sensed. Marching towards us from the east end of the plaza was Desjardins himself. He wore cream-colored robes with the Chief Lector’s leopard-skin cape tied across his shoulders. His staff glowed purple. Tourists and pedestrians veered out of his way, confused and nervous, as if they weren’t sure what was going on but they knew enough to clear off.

“Other way,” I urged.

I turned and saw two more magicians in black robes marching in from the west.

I pulled my wand and pointed it at Zia. “You set us up!”

“No! I swear—” Her face fell. “Mel. Mel must’ve told him.”

“Right,” I grumbled. “Blame Mel.”

“No time for explanations,” Amos said, and he blasted Zia with a bolt of lightning. She crashed into the souvenir table.

“Hey!” Carter protested.

“She’s the enemy,” Amos said. “And we have enough enemies.”

Carter rushed to Zia’s side (naturally) while more pedestrians panicked and scattered for the edges of the square.

“Sadie, Carter,” Amos said, “if things go bad, get to the boat and flee.”

“Amos, we’re not leaving you,” I said.

“You’re more important,” he insisted. “I can hold off Desjardins for— Look out!”

Amos spun his staff towards the two magicians in black. They’d been muttering spells, but Amos’s gust of wind swept them off their feet, sending them swirling out of control at the center of a dust devil. They churned along the street, picking up trash, leaves, and tamales, until the miniature tornado tossed the screaming magicians over the top of a building and out of sight.

On the other side of the plaza, Desjardins roared in anger: “Kane!”

The Chief Lector slammed his staff into the ground. A crack opened in the pavement and began snaking towards us. As the crevice grew wider, the buildings trembled. Stucco flaked off the walls. The fissure would’ve swallowed us, but Isis’s voice spoke in my mind, telling me the word I needed.

I raised my wand. “Quiet. Hah-ri.”

Hieroglyphs blazed to life in front of us:

The fissure stopped just short of my feet. The earthquake died.

Amos sucked in a breath. “Sadie, how did you—”

“Divine Words, Kane!” Desjardins stepped forward, his face livid. “The child dares speak the Divine Words. She is corrupted by Isis, and you are guilty of assisting the gods.”