The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(39)

She grabbed our arms and steered us through the crowd. We must’ve looked like beggars in our old-fashioned clothes, covered head-to-toe in sand. People gave us a wide berth, but nobody tried to stop us.

“Why are we here?” Sadie demanded.

“To see the ruins of Heliopolis,” Zia said.

“Inside an airport?” Sadie asked.

I remembered something Dad had told me years ago, and my scalp tingled.

“Sadie, the ruins are under us.” I looked at Zia. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “The ancient city was pillaged centuries ago. Some of its monuments were carted away, like Cleopatra’s two needles. Most of its temples were broken down to make new buildings. What was left disappeared under Cairo’s suburbs. The largest section is under this airport.”

“And how does that help us?” Sadie asked.

Zia kicked open a maintenance door. On the other side was a broom closet. Zia muttered a command—“Sahad”—and the image of the closet shimmered and disappeared, revealing a set of stone steps leading down.

“Because not all Heliopolis is in ruins,” Zia said. “Follow closely. And touch nothing.”

The stairs must’ve led down about seven million miles, because we descended forever. The passage had been made for miniature people, too. We had to crouch and crawl most of the way, and even so, I bonked my head on the ceiling a dozen times. The only light was from a ball of fire in Zia’s palm, which made shadows dance across the walls.

I’d been in places like this before—tunnels inside pyramids, tombs my dad had excavated—but I’ve never liked them. Millions of tons of rock above me seemed to crush the air out of my lungs.

Finally we reached the bottom. The tunnel opened up, and Zia stopped abruptly. After my eyes adjusted, I saw why. We were standing at the edge of a chasm.

A single wooden plank spanned the void. On the opposite ledge, two jackal-headed granite warriors flanked a doorway, their spears crossed over the entrance.

Sadie sighed. “Please, no more psychotic statues.”

“Do not joke,” Zia warned. “This is an entrance to the First Nome, the oldest branch of the House of Life, headquarters for all magicians. My job was to bring you here safely, but I cannot help you cross. Each magician must unbar the path for herself, and the challenge is different for each supplicant.”

She looked at Sadie expectantly, which annoyed me. First Bast, now Zia—both of them treated Sadie like she should have some kind of superpowers. I mean, okay, so she’d been able to blast the library doors apart, but why didn’t anyone look at me to do cool tricks?

Plus, I was still annoyed with Sadie for the comments she’d made at the museum in New York—how I had it so good traveling the world with Dad. She had no idea how often I wanted to complain about the constant traveling, how many days I wished I didn’t have to get on a plane and could just be like a normal kid going to school and making friends. But I couldn’t complain. You always have to look impeccable, Dad had told me. And he didn’t just mean my clothes. He meant my attitude. With Mom gone, I was all he had. Dad needed me to be strong. Most days, I didn’t mind. I loved my dad. But it was also hard.

Sadie didn’t understand that. She had it easy. And now she seemed to be getting all the attention, as if she were the special one. It wasn’t fair.

Then I heard Dad’s voice in my head: “Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself.”

I don’t know what got into me, but I drew my sword and marched across the plank. It was like my legs were working by themselves, not waiting for my brain. Part of me thought: This is a really bad idea. But part of me answered: No, we do not fear this. And the voice didn’t sound like mine.

“Carter!” Sadie cried.

I kept walking. I tried not to look down at the yawning void under my feet, but the sheer size of the chasm made me dizzy. I felt like one of those gyroscope toys, spinning and wobbling as I crossed the narrow plank.

As I got closer to the opposite side, the doorway between the two statues began to glow, like a curtain of red light.

I took a deep breath. Maybe the red light was a portal, like the gate of sand. If I just charged through fast enough...

Then the first dagger shot out of the tunnel.

My sword was in motion before I realized it. The dagger should’ve impaled me in the chest, but somehow I deflected it with my blade and sent it sailing into the abyss. Two more daggers shot out of the tunnel. I’d never had the best reflexes, but now they sped up. I ducked one dagger and hooked the other with the curved blade of my sword, turned the dagger and flung it back into the tunnel. How the heck did I do that?

I advanced to the end of the plank and slashed through the red light, which flickered and died. I waited for the statues to come alive, but nothing happened. The only sound was a dagger clattering against the rocks in the chasm far below.

The doorway began to glow again. The red light coalesced into a strange form: a five-foot-tall bird with a man’s head. I raised my sword, but Zia yelled, “Carter, no!”

The bird creature folded his wings. His eyes, lined with kohl, narrowed as they studied me. A black ornamental wig glistened on his head, and his face was etched with wrinkles. One of those fake braided pharaoh beards was stuck on his chin like a backward ponytail. He didn’t look hostile, except for the red flickering light all around him, and the fact that from the neck down he was the world’s largest killer turkey.