Page List


Font:  

“I just...” He faltered. “I just think we should be careful.”

I realized the poor boy was quite scared, which I couldn’t hold against him, but it did startle me. Carter was my big brother, after all—older, more sophisticated, the one who traveled the world with Dad. Big brothers are the ones who are supposed to pull their punches. Little sisters—well, we should be able to hit as hard as we like, shouldn’t we? But I realized that possibly, just possibly, I’d been a bit harsh with him.

“Look,” I said. “We need to help Dad, yes? There’s got to be some powerful stuff in that library, otherwise Amos wouldn’t keep it locked up. You do want to help Dad?”

Carter shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah...of course.”

Well, that was one problem sorted, so we headed for the library. But as soon as Khufu saw what we were up to, he scrambled off the sofa with his basketball and jumped in front of the library doors. Who knew baboons were so speedy? He barked at us, and I have to say baboons have enormous fangs. And they’re not any prettier when they’ve been chewing up exotic pink birds.

Carter tried to reason with him. “Khufu, we’re not going to steal anything. We just want—”

“Agh!” Khufu dribbled his basketball angrily.

“Carter,” I said, “you’re not helping. Look here, Khufu. I have...ta-da!” I held up a little yellow box of cereal I’d taken from the buffet table. “Cheerios! Ends with an -o. Yumsies!”

“Aghhh!” Khufu grunted, more excited now than angry.

“Want it?” I coaxed. “Just take it to the couch and pretend you didn’t see us, yes?”

I threw the cereal towards the couch, and the baboon lunged after it. He grabbed the box in midair and was so excited, he ran straight up the wall and sat on the fireplace mantel, where he began gingerly picking out Cheerios and eating them one at a time.

Carter looked at me with grudging admiration. “How did you—”

“Some of us think ahead. Now, let’s open these doors.”

That was not so easily done. They were made of thick wood laced with giant steel chains and padlocked. Complete overkill.

Carter stepped forward. He tried to raise the doors by lifting his hand, which had been quite impressive the night before, only now accomplished nothing.

He shook the chains the old-fashioned way, then yanked on the padlocks.

“No good,” he said.

Ice needles tingled on the back of my neck. It was almost as if someone—or something—was whispering an idea in my head. “What was that word Amos used at breakfast with the saucer?”

“For ‘join’?” Carter said. “Hi-nehm or something.”

“No, the other one, for ‘destroy’.”

“Uh, ha-di. But you’d need to know magic and the hieroglyphics, wouldn’t you? And even then—”

I raised my hand toward the door. I pointed with two fingers and my thumb—an odd gesture I’d never made before, like a make-believe gun except with the thumb parallel to the ground.

“Ha-di!”

Bright gold hieroglyphs burned against the largest padlock.

And the doors exploded. Carter hit the floor as chains shattered and splinters flew all over the Great Room. When the dust cleared, Carter got up, covered in wood shavings. I seemed to be fine. Muffin circled my feet, mewing contentedly, as if this were all very normal.

Carter stared at me. “How exactly—”

“Don’t know,” I admitted. “But the library’s open.”

“Think you overdid it a little? We’re going to be in so much trouble—”

“We’ll just figure out a way to zap the door back, won’t we?”

“No more zapping, please,” Carter said. “That explosion could’ve killed us.”


Tags: Rick Riordan Kane Chronicles Fantasy