The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(60)

Hang on, Carter, I thought. Not hunting mice. I zeroed in on Desjardins’ mansion, tucked in my wings, and shot downward.

I saw the rooftop garden, the double glass doors leading inside, and the voice inside me said: Don’t stop. It’s an illusion. You’ve got to punch through their magic barriers.

It was a crazy thought. I was plummeting so fast I would smack against the glass and become a feathery pancake, but I didn’t slow down.

I rammed straight into the doors—and sailed through them as if they didn’t exist. I spread my wings and landed on a table. Sadie sailed in right behind me.

We were alone in the middle of a library. So far, so good.

I closed my eyes and thought about returning to my normal form. When I opened my eyes again, I was regular old Carter, sitting on a table in my regular clothes, my workbag back on my shoulder.

Sadie was still a kite.

“You can turn back now,” I told her.

She tilted her head and regarded me quizzically. She let out a frustrated croak.

I cracked a smile. “You can’t, can you? You’re stuck?”

She pecked my hand with her extremely sharp beak.

“Ow!” I complained. “It’s not my fault. Keep trying.”

She closed her eyes and ruffled her feathers until she looked like she was going to explode, but she stayed a kite.

“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Bast will help once we get out of here.”

“Ha—ha—ha.”

“Just keep watch. I’m going to look around.”

The room was huge—more like a traditional library than a magician’s lair. The furniture was dark mahogany. Every wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Books overflowed onto the floor. Some were stacked on tables or stuffed into smaller shelves. A big easy chair by the window looked like the kind of place Sherlock Holmes would sit smoking a pipe.

Every step I took, the floorboards creaked, which made me wince. I couldn’t hear anyone else in the house, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

Aside from the glass doors to the rooftop, the only other exit was a solid wooden door that locked from the inside. I turned the deadbolt. Then I wedged a chair up under the handle. I doubted that would keep magicians out for very long, but it might buy me a few seconds if things went bad.

I searched the bookshelves for what seemed like ages. All different types of books were jammed together—nothing alphabetized, nothing numbered. Most of the titles weren’t in English. None were in hieroglyphics. I was hoping for something with big gold lettering that said The Book of Thoth, but no such luck.

“What would a Book of Thoth even look like?” I wondered.

Sadie turned her head and glared at me. I was pretty sure she was telling me to hurry up.

I wished there were shabti to fetch things, like the ones in Amos’s library, but I didn’t see any. Or maybe...

I slung Dad’s bag off my shoulder. I set his magic box on the table and slid open the top. The little wax figure was still there, right where I’d left him. I picked him up and said, “Doughboy, help me find The Book of Thoth in this library.”

His waxy eyes opened immediately. “And why should I help you?”

“Because you have no choice.”

“I hate that argument! Fine—hold me up. I can’t see the shelves.”

I walked him around the room, showing him the books. I felt pretty stupid giving the wax doll a tour, but probably not as stupid as Sadie felt. She was still in bird form, scuttling back and forth on the table and snapping her beak in frustration as she tried to change back.

“Hold it!” Doughboy announced. “This one is ancient—right here.”

I pulled down a thin volume bound in linen. It was so tiny, I would’ve missed it, but sure enough, the front cover was inscribed in hieroglyphics. I brought it over to the table and carefully opened it. It was more like a map than a book, unfolding into four parts until I was looking at a wide, long papyrus scroll with writing so old I could barely make out the characters.

I glanced at Sadie. “I bet you could read this to me if you weren’t a bird.”

She tried to peck me again, but I moved my hand.

“Doughboy,” I said. “What is this scroll?”

“A spell lost in time!” he pronounced. “Ancient words of tremendous power!”

“Well?” I demanded. “Does it tell how to defeat Set?”

“Better! The title reads: The Book of Summoning Fruit Bats!”

I stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Would I joke about such a thing?”

“Who would want to summon fruit bats?”

“Ha—ha—ha,” Sadie croaked.

I pushed the scroll away and we went back to searching.

After about ten minutes, Doughboy squealed with delight. “Oh, look! I remember this painting.”

It was a small oil portrait in a gilded frame, hanging on the end of a bookshelf. It must’ve been important, because it was bordered by little silk curtains. A light shone upon the portrait dude’s face so he seemed about to tell a ghost story.

“Isn’t that the guy who plays Wolverine?” I asked, because he had some serious jowl hair going on.

“You disgust me!” Doughboy said. “That is Jean-François Champollion.”