CHAPTER
21. Aunt Kitty to the Rescue
I’D SEEN PICTURES OF THE CREATURE BEFORE, but pictures didn’t come close to capturing how horrible it was in real life.
“The Set animal,” Bast said, confirming my fear.
Far below, the creature prowled the base of the monument, leaving tracks in the new-fallen snow. I had trouble judging its size, but it must’ve been at least as big as a horse, with legs just as long. It had an unnaturally lean, muscled body with shiny reddish gray fur. You could almost mistake it for a huge greyhound—except for the tail and the head. The tail was reptilian, forked at the end with triangular points, like squid tentacles. It lashed around as if it had a mind of its own.
The creature’s head was the strangest part. Its oversize ears stuck straight up like rabbit ears, but they were shaped more like ice cream cones, curled inward and wider on the top than the bottom. They could rotate almost three hundred and sixty degrees, so they could hear anything. The creature’s snout was long and curved like an anteater’s—only anteaters don’t have razor-sharp teeth.
“Its eyes are glowing,” I said. “That can’t be good.”
“How can you see that far?” Sadie demanded.
She stood next to me, squinting at the tiny figure in the snow, and I realized she had a point. The animal was at least five hundred feet below us. How was I able to see its eyes?
“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.
“It’s all right.” I crouched down, careful to move slowly. “Sadie, don’t force it. You have to relax.”
“Ha!” She tucked in her wings. Her chest was heaving.
“Listen, it helped me to focus on Dad. Remember what’s important to you. Close your eyes and think about your human life.”
She closed her eyes, but almost instantly cried out in frustration and flapped her wings.
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t fly away!”
She tilted her head and gurgled in a pleading way. I started talking to her the way I would to a scared animal. I wasn’t really paying attention to the words. I was just trying to keep my tone calm. But after a minute I realized I was telling her about my travels with Dad, and the memories that had helped me get out of bird form. I told her about the time Dad and I got stuck in the Venice airport and I ate so many cannoli, I got sick. I told her about the time in Egypt when I found the scorpion in my sock, and Dad managed to kill it with a TV remote control. I told her how we’d gotten separated once in the London Underground and how scared I was until Dad finally found me. I told her some pretty embarrassing stories that I’d never shared with anyone, because who could I share them with? And it seemed to me that Sadie listened. At least she stopped flapping her wings. Her breathing slowed. She became very still, and her eyes didn’t look so panicked.
“Okay, Sadie,” I said at last. “I’ve got an idea. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
I took Dad’s magic box out of its leather bag. I wrapped the bag around my forearm and tied it with the straps as best I could. “Hop on.”
Sadie flew up and perched at my wrist. Even with my makeshift armguard, her sharp talons dug into my skin.
“We’ll get you out of this,” I said. “Keep trying. Relax, and focus on your human life. You’ll figure it out, Sadie. I know you will. I’ll carry you until then.”
“Ha.”
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s find Bast.”
With my sister perched on my arm, I walked to the elevator. A businessman with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. His eyes widened when he saw me. I must’ve looked pretty strange—a tall black kid in dirty, ragged Egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other.
“How’s it going?” I said.
“I’ll take the stairs.” He hurried off.
The elevator took me to the ground level. Sadie and I crossed to the departures curb. I looked around desperately, hoping to see Bast, but instead I caught the attention of a curbside policeman. The guy frowned and started lumbering in my direction.
“Stay calm,” I told Sadie. Resisting the urge to run, I turned and walked through the revolving doors.
Here’s the thing—I always get a little edgy around police. I remember when I was like seven or eight and still a cute little kid, it wasn’t a problem; but as soon as I hit eleven, I started to get the Look, like What’s that kid doing here? Is he going to steal something? I mean it’s ridiculous, but it’s a fact. I’m not saying it happens with every police officer, but when it doesn’t happen—let’s just say it’s a pleasant surprise.
This was not one of the pleasant times. I knew the cop was going to follow me, and I knew I had to act calm and walk like I had a purpose…which is not easy with a kite on your arm.
Christmas vacation, so the airport was pretty full—mostly families standing in line at the ticket counters, kids arguing and parents labeling luggage. I wondered what that would be like: a normal family trip, no magic problems or monsters chasing you.
Stop it, I told myself. You’ve got work to do.
But I didn’t know where to go. Would Bast be inside security? Outside? The crowds parted as I walked through the terminal. People stared at Sadie. I knew I couldn’t wander around looking lost. It was only a matter of time before the cops—
“Young man.”
I turned. It was the police officer from outside. Sadie squawked, and the cop backed up, resting his hand on his nightstick.
“You can’t have pets in here,” he told me.
“I have tickets….” I tried to reach my pockets. Then I remembered that Bast had our tickets.
The cop scowled. “You’d better come with me.”
Suddenly a woman’s voice called: “There you are, Carter!”
Bast was hurrying over, pushing her way through the crowd. I’d never been happier to see an Egyptian god in my life.
Somehow she’d managed to change clothes. She wore a rose-colored pantsuit, lots of gold jewelry, and a cashmere coat, so she looked like a wealthy businesswoman. Ignoring the cop, she sized up my appearance and wrinkled her nose. “Carter, I told you not to wear those horrible falconry clothes. Honestly, you look like you’ve been sleeping in the wild!”
She took out a handkerchief and made a big production of wiping my face, while the policeman stared.
“Uh, ma’am,” he finally managed. “Is this your—”
“Nephew,” Bast lied. “I’m so sorry, officer. We’re heading to Memphis for a falconry competition. I hope he hasn’t caused any problems. We’re going to miss our flight!”
“Um, the falcon can’t fly…”
Bast giggled. “Well, of course it can fly, officer. It’s a bird!”
His face reddened. “I mean on a plane.”
“Oh! We have the paperwork.” To my amazement, she pulled out an envelope and handed it to the cop, along with our tickets.
“I see,” the cop said. He looked our tickets over. “You bought…a first class ticket for your falcon.”
“It’s a black kite, actually,” Bast said. “But yes, it’s a very temperamental bird. A prizewinner, you know. Give it a coach seat and try to offer it pretzels, and I won’t be held responsible for the consequences. No, we always fly first class, don’t we, Carter?”
“Um, yeah…Aunt Kitty.”
She flashed me a look that said: I’ll get you for that. Then she went back to smiling at the cop, who handed back our tickets and Sadie’s “paperwork.”
“Well, if you’ll excuse us, officer. That’s a very handsome uniform, by the way. Do you work out?” Before he could respond, Bast grabbed my arm and hurried me toward the security checkpoint. “Don’t look back,” she said under her breath.
As soon as we turned the corner, Bast pulled me aside by the vending machines.
“The Set animal is close,” she said. “We’ve got a few minutes at best. What’s wrong with Sadie?”
“She can’t…” I stammered. “I don’t know exactly.”
“Well, we’ll have to figure it out on the plane.”
“How did you change clothes?” I asked. “And the document for the bird…”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, mortal minds are weak. That ‘document’ is an empty ticket sleeve. And my clothes haven’t really changed. It’s just a glamour.”
I looked at her more closely, and I saw she was right. Her new clothes flickered like a mirage over her usual leopard-skin bodysuit. As soon as she pointed it out, the magic seemed flimsy and obvious.
“We’ll try to make it to the gate before the Set animal,” she said. “It will be easier if you stow your things in the Duat.”
“What?”
“You don’t really want to tote that box around under your arm, do you? Use the Duat as a storage bin.”
“How?”
Bast rolled her eyes. “Honestly, what do they teach magicians these days?”
“We had about twenty seconds of training!”
“Just imagine a space in the air, like a shelf or a treasure chest—”
“A locker?” I asked. “I’ve never had a school locker.”
“Fine. Give it a combination lock—anything you want. Imagine opening the locker with your combination. Then shove the box inside. When you need it again, just call it to mind, and it will appear.”
I was skeptical, but I imagined a locker. I gave it a combination: 13/32/33—retired numbers for the Lakers, obviously: Chamberlain, Johnson, Abdul-Jabbar. I held out my dad’s magic box and let it go, sure it would smash to the floor. Instead, the box disappeared.
“Cool,” I said. “Are you sure I can get it back?”
“No,” Bast said. “Now, come on!”