The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(83)

Thoth stood and handed Khufu his guitar. He tossed the ankh at the statue of Ramesses, and the necklace fastened itself around the pharaoh’s neck.

“There you are, Ramesses,” Thoth said to the statue. “Here’s to our new life.”

The statue glowed faintly, as if the sunset had just gotten ten times brighter. Then the glow spread to the entire pyramid before slowly fading.

“Oh, yes,” Thoth mused. “I think I’ll be happy here. Next time you children visit me, I’ll have a much bigger laboratory.”

Scary thought, but I tried to stay focused.

“That’s not all we found,” I said. “You need to explain this.”

I held out the painting of the cat and the snake.

“It’s a cat and a snake,” Thoth said.

“Thank you, god of wisdom. You placed it for us to find, didn’t you? You’re trying to give us some kind of clue.”

“Who, me?”

Just kill him, Horus said.

Shut up, I said.

At least kill the guitar.

“The cat is Bast,” I said, trying to ignore my inner psycho falcon. “Does this have something to do with why our parents released the gods?”

Thoth gestured toward the picnic plates. “Did I mention we have barbecue?”

Sadie stomped her foot. “We had a deal, Ja-hooty!”

“You know...I like that name,” Thoth mused, “but not so much when you say it. I believe our deal was that I would explain how to use the spell book. May I?”

He held out his hand. Reluctantly I dug the magic book out of my bag and handed it over.

Thoth unfolded the pages. “Ah, this takes me back. So many formulae. In the old days, we believed in ritual. A good spell might take weeks to prepare, with exotic ingredients from all over the world.”

“We don’t have weeks,” I said.

“Rush, rush, rush.” Thoth sighed.

“Agh,” Khufu agreed, sniffing the guitar.

Thoth closed the book and handed it back to me. “Well, it’s an incantation for destroying Set.”

“We know that,” Sadie said. “Will it destroy him forever?”

“No, no. But it will destroy his form in this world, banishing him deep into the Duat and reducing his power so he will not be able to appear again for a long, long time. Centuries, most likely.”

“Sounds good,” I said. “How do we read it?”

Thoth stared at me like the answer should be obvious. “You cannot read it now because the words can only be spoken in Set’s presence. Once before him, Sadie should open the book and recite the incantation. She’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“Right,” Sadie said. “And Set will just stand there calmly while I read him to death.”

Thoth shrugged. “I did not say it would be easy. You’ll also require two ingredients for the spell to work—a verbal ingredient, Set’s secret name—”

“What?” I protested. “How are we supposed to get that?”

“With difficulty, I’d imagine. You can’t simply read a secret name from a book. The name must come from the owner’s own lips, in his own pronunciation, to give you power over him.”

“Great,” I said. “So we just force Set to tell us.”

“Or trick him,” Thoth said. “Or convince him.”

“Isn’t there any other way?” Sadie asked.

Thoth brushed an ink splotch off his lab coat. A hieroglyph turned into a moth and fluttered away. “I suppose...yes. You could ask the person closest to Set’s heart—the person who loves him most. She would also have the ability to speak the name.”

“But nobody loves Set!” Sadie said.

“His wife,” I guessed. “That other goddess, Nephthys.”

Thoth nodded. “She’s a river goddess. Perhaps you could find her in a river.”

“This just gets better and better,” I muttered.

Sadie frowned at Thoth. “You said there was another ingredient?”

“A physical ingredient,” Thoth agreed, “a feather of truth.”

“A what?” Sadie asked.

But I knew what he was talking about, and my heart sank. “You mean from the Land of the Dead.”

Thoth beamed. “Exactly.”

“Wait,” Sadie said. “What is he talking about?”

I tried to conceal my fear. “When you died in Ancient Egypt, you had to take a journey to the Land of the Dead,” I explained. “A really dangerous journey. Finally, you made it to the Hall of Judgment, where your life was weighed on the Scales of Anubis: your heart on one side, the feather of truth on the other. If you passed the test, you were blessed with eternal happiness. If you failed, a monster ate your heart and you ceased to exist.”

“Ammit the Devourer,” Thoth said wistfully. “Cute little thing.”

Sadie blinked. “So we’re supposed to get a feather from this Hall of Judgment how, exactly?”

“Perhaps Anubis will be in a good mood,” Thoth suggested. “It happens every thousand years or so.”

“But how do we even get to the Land of the Dead?” I asked. “I mean...without dying.”