The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(48)

“Divination?”

“Seeing the future. Tricky business, never perfect, but she saw things that made her seek advice from...unconventional places, things that made even this old man question some long-held beliefs...”

He drifted off into Memoryland again, which was infuriating enough when my grandparents did it, but when it’s an all-powerful magician who has valuable information, it’s enough to drive one mad.

“Iskandar?”

He looked at me with mild surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was there. “I’m sorry, Sadie. I should come to the point: you have a hard path ahead of you, but I’m convinced now it’s a path you must take, for all our sakes. Your brother will need your guidance.”

I was tempted to laugh. “Carter, need my guidance? For what? What path do you mean?”

“All in good time. Things must take their course.”

Typical adult answer. I tried to bite back my frustration. “And what if I need guidance?”

“Zia,” he said, without hesitation. “She is my best pupil, and she is wise. When the time comes, she will know how to help you.”

“Right,” I said, a bit disappointed. “Zia.”

“For now you should rest, my dear. And it seems I, too, can rest at last.” He sounded sad but relieved. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but he didn’t give me the chance to ask.

“I am sorry our time together was so brief,” he said. “Sleep well, Sadie Kane.”

“But—”

Iskandar touched my forehead. And I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 16. How Zia Lost Her Eyebrows

I WOKE TO A BUCKET OF ICE WATER IN MY FACE.

“Sadie! Get up,” Zia said.

“God!” I yelled. “Was that necessary?”

“No,” Zia admitted.

I wanted to strangle her, except I was dripping wet, shivering, and still disoriented. How long had I slept? It felt like only a few minutes, but the dormitory was empty. All the other cots were made. The girls must’ve already gone to their morning lessons.

Zia tossed me a towel and some fresh linen clothes. “We’ll meet Carter in the cleansing room.”

“I just got a bath, thanks very much. What I need is a proper breakfast.”

“The cleansing prepares you for magic.” Zia slung her bag of tricks over her shoulder and unfolded the long black staff she’d used in New York. “If you survive, we’ll see about food.”

I was tired of being reminded that I might die, but I got dressed and followed her out.

After another endless series of tunnels, we came to a chamber with a roaring waterfall. There was no ceiling, just a shaft above us that seemed to go up forever. Water fell from the darkness into a fountain, splashing over a five-meter-tall statue of that bird-headed god. What was his name—Tooth? No, Thoth. The water cascaded over his head, collected in his palms, then spilled out into the pool.

Carter stood beside the fountain. He was dressed in linen with Dad’s workbag over one shoulder and his sword strapped to his back. His hair was rumpled, as if he hadn’t slept well. At least he hadn’t been doused in ice water. Seeing him, I felt a strange sense of relief. I thought about Iskandar’s words last night: Your brother will need your guidance.

“What?” Carter asked. “You’re staring at me funny.”

“Nothing,” I said quickly. “How’d you sleep?”

“Badly. I’ll...I’ll tell you about it later.”

Was it my imagination, or did he frown in Zia’s direction? Hmm, possible romantic trouble between Miss Magic and my brother? I made a mental note to interrogate him next time we were alone.

Zia went to a nearby cabinet. She brought out two ceramic cups, dipped them into the fountain, then offered them to us. “Drink.”

I glanced at Carter. “After you.”

“It’s only water,” Zia assured me, “but purified by contact with Thoth. It will focus your mind.”

I didn’t see how a statue could purify water. Then I remembered what Iskandar had said, how gods could inhabit anything.

I took a drink. Immediately I felt like I’d had a good strong cup of Gran’s tea. My brain buzzed. My eyesight sharpened. I felt so hyperactive, I almost didn’t miss my chewing gum—almost.

Carter sipped from his cup. “Wow.”

“Now the tattoos,” Zia announced.

“Brilliant!” I said.

“On your tongue,” she added.

“Excuse me?”

Zia stuck out her tongue. Right in the middle was a blue hieroglyph.

“Nith ith Naat,” she tried to say with her tongue out. Then she realized her mistake and stuck her tongue back in. “I mean, this is Ma’at, the symbol of order and harmony. It will help you speak magic clearly. One mistake with a spell—”

“Let me guess,” I said. “We’ll die.”

From her cabinet of horrors, Zia produced a fine-tipped paintbrush and a bowl of blue dye. “It doesn’t hurt. And it’s not permanent.”

“How does it taste?” Carter wondered.

Zia smiled. “Stick out your tongue.”

To answer Carter’s question, the tattoo tasted like burning car tires.