The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(68)

“You still have the sight of the falcon,” Bast guessed. “And you’re right, Carter. The glowing eyes mean the creature has caught our scent.”

I looked at her and almost jumped out of my skin. Her hair was sticking straight up all over her head, like she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.

“Um, Bast?” I asked.

“What?”

Sadie and I exchanged looks. She mouthed the word scared. Then I remembered how Muffin’s tail would always poof up when something startled her.

“Nothing,” I said, though if the Set animal was so dangerous that it gave our goddess light-socket hair, that had to be a very bad sign. “How do we get out of here?”

“You don’t understand,” Bast said. “The Set animal is the perfect hunter. If it has our scent, there is no stopping it.”

“Why is it called the ‘Set animal’?” Sadie asked nervously. “Doesn’t it have a name?”

“If it did,” Bast said, “you would not want to speak it. It is merely known as the Set animal—the Red Lord’s symbolic creature. It shares his strength, cunning...and his evil nature.”

“Lovely,” Sadie said.

The animal sniffed at the monument and recoiled, snarling.

“It doesn’t seem to like the obelisk,” I noticed.

“No,” Bast said. “Too much Ma’at energy. But that won’t hold it back for long.”

As if on cue, the Set animal leaped onto the side of the monument. It began climbing like a lion scaling a tree, digging its claws into the stone.

“That’s messed up,” I said. “Elevator or stairs?”

“Both are too slow,” Bast said. “Back away from the window.”

She unsheathed her knives and sliced through the glass. She punched out the window, setting off alarm bells. Freezing air blasted into the observation room.

“You’ll need to fly,” Bast yelled over the wind. “It’s the only way.”

“No!” Sadie’s face went pale. “Not the kite again.”

“Sadie, it’s okay,” I said.

She shook her head, terrified.

I grabbed her hand. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll make sure you turn back.”

“The Set animal is halfway up,” Bast warned. “We’re running out of time.”

Sadie glanced at Bast. “What about you? You can’t fly.”

“I’ll jump,” she said. “Cats always land on their feet.”

“It’s over a hundred meters!” Sadie cried.

“A hundred and seventy,” Bast said. “I’ll distract the Set animal, buy you some time.”

“You’ll be killed.” Sadie’s voice sounded close to breaking. “Please, I can’t lose you too.”

Bast looked a little surprised. Then she smiled and put her hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine, dear. Meet me at Reagan National, terminal A. Be ready to run.”

Before I could argue, Bast jumped out the window. My heart just about stopped. She plummeted straight toward the pavement. I was sure she’d die, but as she fell she spread her arms and legs and seemed to relax.

She hurtled straight past the Set animal, which let out a horrible scream like a wounded man on a battlefield, then turned and leaped after her.

Bast hit the ground with both feet and took off running. She must’ve been doing sixty miles an hour, easy. The Set animal wasn’t as agile. It crashed so hard, the pavement cracked. It stumbled for a few steps but didn’t appear hurt. Then it loped after Bast and was soon gaining on her.

“She won’t make it,” Sadie fretted.

“Never bet against a cat,” I said. “We’ve got to do our part. Ready?”

She took a deep breath. “All right. Before I change my mind.”

Instantly, a black-winged kite appeared in front of me, flapping its wings to keep its balance in the intense wind. I willed myself to become a falcon. It was even easier than before.

A moment later, we soared into the cold morning air over Washington, D.C.

Finding the airport was easy. Reagan National was so close, I could see the planes landing across the Potomac.

The hard part was remembering what I was doing. Every time I saw a mouse or a squirrel, I instinctively veered toward it. A couple of times I caught myself about to dive, and I had to fight the urge. Once I looked over and realized I was a mile away from Sadie, who was off doing her own hunting. I had to force myself to fly next to her and get her attention.

It takes willpower to stay human, the voice of Horus warned. The more time you spend as a bird of prey, the more you think like one.

Now you tell me, I thought.

I could help, he urged. Give me control.

Not today, bird-head.

Finally, I steered Sadie toward the airport, and we started hunting for a place to change back to human form. We landed at the top of a parking garage.

I willed myself to turn human. Nothing happened.

Panic started building in my throat. I closed my eyes and pictured my dad’s face. I thought about how much I missed him, how much I needed to find him.

When I opened my eyes, I was back to normal. Unfortunately, Sadie was still a kite. She flapped around me and cawed frantically. “Ha—ha—ha!” There was a wild look in her eyes, and this time I understood how scared she was. Bird form had been hard enough for her to break out of the first time. If the second time took even more energy, she could be in serious trouble.