Rick Riordan - The Red Pyramid

“We’re on the moon,” Sadie murmured.

“El Paso, Texas,” Bast corrected. “And that’s the Rio Grande.” She took a big breath of the cool dry air. “A river civilization in the desert. Very much like Egypt, actually! Er, except for the fact that Mexico is next door. I think this is the best spot to summon Nephthys.”

“You really think she’ll tell us Set’s secret name?” Sadie asked.

Bast considered. “Nephthys is unpredictable, but she has sided against her husband before. We can hope.”

That didn’t sound very promising. I stared at the river far below. “Why did you park us on the mountain? Why not closer?”

Bast shrugged, as if this hadn’t occurred to her. “Cats like to get as high up as possible. In case we have to pounce on something.”

“Great,” I said. “So if we have to pounce, we’re all set.”

“It’s not so bad,” Bast said. “We just climb our way down to the river through a few miles of sand, cacti, and rattlesnakes, looking out for the Border Patrol, human traffickers, magicians, and demons-and summon Nephthys.”

Sadie whistled. “Well, I’m excited!”

“Agh,” Khufu agreed miserably. He sniffed the air and snarled.

“He smells trouble,” Bast translated. “Something bad is about to happen.”

“Even I could smell that,” I grumbled, and we followed Bast down the mountain.

Yes, Horus said. I remember this place.

It’s El Paso, I told him. Unless you went out for Mexican food, you’ve never been here.

I remember it well, he insisted. The marsh, the desert.

I stopped and looked around. Suddenly I remembered this place, too. About fifty yards in front of us, the river spread out into a swampy area-a web of slow-moving tributaries cutting a shallow depression through the desert. Marsh grass grew tall along the banks. There must’ve been some kind of surveillance, its being an international border and all, but I couldn’t spot any.

I’d been here in ba form. I could picture a hut right there in the marsh, Isis and young Horus hiding from Set. And just downriver-that’s where I’d sensed something dark moving under the water, waiting for me.

I caught Bast’s arm when she was a few steps from the bank. “Stay away from the water.”

She frowned. “Carter, I’m a cat. I’m not going for a swim. But if you want to summon a river goddess, you really need to do it at the riverbank.”

She made it sound so logical that I felt stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Something bad was about to happen.

What is it? I asked Horus. What’s the challenge?

But my ride-along god was unnervingly silent, as if waiting.

Sadie tossed a rock into the murky brown water. It sank with a loud ker-plunk!

“Seems quite safe to me,” she said, and trudged down to the banks.

Khufu followed hesitantly. When he reached the water, he sniffed at it and snarled.

“See?” I said. “Even Khufu doesn’t like it.”

“It’s probably ancestral memory,” Bast said. “The river was a dangerous place in Egypt. Snakes, hippos, all kinds of problems.”

“Hippos?”

“Don’t take it lightly,” Bast warned. “Hippos can be deadly.”

“Was that what attacked Horus?” I asked. “I mean in the old days, when Set was looking for him?”

“Haven’t heard that story,” Bast said. “Usually you hear that Set used scorpions first. Then later, crocodiles.”

“Crocodiles,” I said, and a chill went down my back.

Is that it? I asked Horus. But again he didn’t answer. “Bast, does the Rio Grande have crocodiles?”

“I very much doubt it.” She knelt by the water. “Now, Sadie, if you’d do the honors?”

“How?”

“Just ask for Nephthys to appear. She was Isis’s sister. If she’s anywhere on this side of the Duat, she should hear your voice.”

Sadie looked doubtful, but she knelt next to Bast and touched the water. Her fingertips caused ripples that seemed much too large, rings of force emanating all the way across the river.

“Hullo, Nephthys?” she said. “Anyone home?”

I heard a splash downriver, and turned to see a family of immigrants crossing midstream. I’d heard stories about how thousands of people cross the border from Mexico illegally each year, looking for work and a better life, but it was startling to actually see them in front of me-a man and a woman hurrying along, carrying a little girl between them. They were dressed in ragged clothes and looked poorer than the poorest Egyptian peasants I’d ever seen. I stared at them for a few seconds, but they didn’t appear to be any kind of supernatural threat. The man gave me a wary look and we seemed to come to a silent understanding: we both had enough problems without bothering each other.

Meanwhile Bast and Sadie stayed focused on the water, watching the ripples spread out from Sadie’s fingers.

Bast tilted her head, listening intently. “What’s she saying?”

“I can’t make it out,” Sadie whispered. “Very faint.”

“You can actually hear something?” I asked.

“Shhh,” they both said at once.

“‘Caged’…” Sadie said. “No, what is that word in English?”

“Sheltered,” Bast suggested. “She is sheltered far away. A sleeping host. What is that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t know what they were talking about. I couldn’t hear a thing.

Khufu tugged at my hand and pointed downriver. “Agh.”

The immigrant family had disappeared. It seemed impossible they could cross the river so quickly. I scanned both banks-no sign of them-but the water was more turbulent where they’d been standing, as if someone had stirred it with a giant spoon. My throat tightened.

“Um, Bast-”

“Carter, we can barely hear Nephthys,” she said. “Please.”

I gritted my teeth. “Fine. Khufu and I are going to check something-”

“Shh!” Sadie said again.

I nodded to Khufu, and we started down the riverbank. Khufu hid behind my legs and growled at the river.

I looked back, but Bast and Sadie seemed fine. They were still staring at the water as if it were some amazing Internet video.

Finally we got to the place where I’d seen the family, but the water had calmed. Khufu slapped the ground and did a handstand, which meant he was either break dancing or really nervous.

“What is it?” I asked, my heart pounding.

“Agh, agh, agh!” he complained. That was probably an entire lecture in Baboon, but I had no idea what he was saying.

“Well, I don’t see any other way,” I said. “If that family got pulled into the water or something…I have to find them. I’m going in.”

“Agh!” He backed away from the water.

“Khufu, those people had a little girl. If they need help, I can’t just walk away. Stay here and watch my back.”

Khufu grunted and slapped his own face in protest as I stepped into the water. It was colder and swifter than I’d imagined. I concentrated, and summoned my sword and wand out of the Duat. Maybe it was my imagination, but that seemed to make the river run even faster.

I was midstream when Khufu barked urgently. He was jumping around on the riverbank, pointing frantically at a nearby clump of reeds.

The family was huddled inside, trembling with fear, their eyes wide. My first thought: Why are they hiding from me?

“I won’t hurt you,” I promised. They stared at me blankly, and I wished I could speak Spanish.

Then the water churned around me, and I realized they weren’t scared of me. My next thought: Man, I’m stupid.

Horus’s voice yelled: Jump!

I sprang out of the water as if shot from a cannon-twenty, thirty feet into the air. No way I should’ve been able to do that, but it was a good thing, because a monster erupted from the river beneath me.