Rick Riordan - The Red Pyramid

“This is the historic area,” Amos said. “I believe they call it Mesilla.”

“Have a lot of Egyptian stuff here, do they?” I asked dubiously.

“Oh, the ancient cultures of Mexico have a lot in common with Egypt,” Amos said, retrieving his coat from the tiller. “But that’s a talk for another day.”

“Thank god,” I muttered. Then I sniffed the air and smelled something strange but wonderful-like baking bread and melting butter, only spicer, yummier. “I-am-starving.”

It didn’t take long, walking the plaza, to discover handmade tortillas. God, they were good. I suppose London has Mexican restaurants. We’ve got everything else. But I’d never been to one, and I doubt the tortillas would’ve tasted this heavenly. A large woman in a white dress rolled out balls of dough in her flour-caked hands, flattened and baked the tortillas on a hot skillet, and handed them to us on paper napkins. They didn’t need butter or jam or anything. They were so delicate, they just melted in my mouth. I made Amos pay for about a dozen, just for me.

Carter was enjoying himself too until he tried the red-chili tamales at another booth. I thought his face would explode. “Hot!” he announced. “Drink!”

“Eat more tortilla,” Amos advised, trying not to laugh. “Bread cuts the heat better than water.”

I tried the tamales myself and found they were excellent, not nearly as hot as a good curry, so Carter was just being a wimp, as usual.

Soon we’d eaten our fill and began wandering the streets, looking for…well, I wasn’t sure, exactly. Time was a-wasting. The sun was going down, and I knew this would be the last night for all of us unless we stopped Set, but I had no idea why Geb had sent me here. You will also find what you need most. What did that mean?

I scanned the crowds and caught a glimpse of a tall young guy with dark hair. A thrill went up my spine-Anubis? What if he was following me, making sure I was safe? What if he was what I needed most?

Wonderful thought, except it wasn’t Anubis. I scolded myself for thinking I could have luck that good. Besides, Carter had seen Anubis as a jackal-headed monster. Perhaps Anubis’s appearance with me was just a trick to befuddle my brain-a trick that worked quite well.

I was daydreaming about that, and about whether or not they had tortillas in the Land of the Dead, when I locked eyes with a girl across the plaza.

“Carter.” I grabbed his arm and nodded in the direction of Zia Rashid. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Zia was ready for battle in her loose black linen clothes, staff and wand in hand. Her dark choppy hair was blown to one side like she’d flown here on a strong wind. Her amber eyes looked about as friendly as a jaguar’s.

Behind her was a vendor’s table full of tourist souvenirs, and a poster that read: new mexico: land of enchantment. I doubted the vendor knew just how much enchantment was standing right in front of his merchandise.

“You came,” Zia said, which seemed a bit on the obvious side. Was it my imagination, or was she looking at Amos with apprehension-even fear?

“Yeah,” Carter said nervously. “You, uh, remember Sadie. And this is-”

“Amos,” Zia said uneasily.

Amos bowed. “Zia Rashid, it’s been several years. I see Iskandar sent his best.”

Zia looked as if he’d smacked her in the face, and I realized Amos hadn’t heard the news.

“Um, Amos,” I said. “Iskandar is dead.”

He stared at us in disbelief as we told him the story.

“I see,” he said at last. “Then the new Chief Lector is-”

“Desjardins,” I said.

“Ah. Bad news.”

Zia frowned. Instead of addressing Amos, she turned to me. “Do not dismiss Desjardins. He’s very powerful. You’ll need his help-our help-to challenge Set.”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” I said, “that Desjardins might be helping Set?”

Zia glared at me. “Never. Others might. But not Desjardins.”

Clearly she meant Amos. I suppose that should’ve made me even more suspicious of him, but instead I got angry.

“You’re blind,” I told Zia. “Desjardins’ first order as Chief Lector was to have us killed. He’s trying to stop us, even though he knows Set is about to destroy the continent. And Desjardins was there that night at the British Museum. If Set needed a body-”

The top of Zia’s staff burst into flame.

Carter quickly moved between us. “Whoa, both of you just calm down. We’re here to talk.”

“I am talking,” Zia said. “You need the House of Life on your side. You have to convince Desjardins you’re not a threat.”

“By surrendering?” I asked. “No, thank you. I’d rather not be turned into a bug and squashed.”

Amos cleared his throat. “I’m afraid Sadie is right. Unless Desjardins has changed since I last saw him, he is not a man who will listen to reason.”

Zia fumed. “Carter, could we speak in private?”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Look, Zia, I-I agree we need to work together. But if you’re going to try to convince me to surrender to the House-”

“There’s something I must tell you,” she insisted. “Something you need to know.”

The way she said that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Could this be what Geb meant? Was it possible that Zia held the key to defeating Set?

Suddenly Amos tensed. He pulled his staff out of thin air and said, “It’s a trap.”

Zia looked stunned. “What? No!”

Then we all saw what Amos had sensed. Marching towards us from the east end of the plaza was Desjardins himself. He wore cream-colored robes with the Chief Lector’s leopard-skin cape tied across his shoulders. His staff glowed purple. Tourists and pedestrians veered out of his way, confused and nervous, as if they weren’t sure what was going on but they knew enough to clear off.

“Other way,” I urged.

I turned and saw two more magicians in black robes marching in from the west.

I pulled my wand and pointed it at Zia. “You set us up!”

“No! I swear-” Her face fell. “Mel. Mel must’ve told him.”

“Right,” I grumbled. “Blame Mel.”

“No time for explanations,” Amos said, and he blasted Zia with a bolt of lightning. She crashed into the souvenir table.

“Hey!” Carter protested.

“She’s the enemy,” Amos said. “And we have enough enemies.”

Carter rushed to Zia’s side (naturally) while more pedestrians panicked and scattered for the edges of the square.

“Sadie, Carter,” Amos said, “if things go bad, get to the boat and flee.”

“Amos, we’re not leaving you,” I said.

“You’re more important,” he insisted. “I can hold off Desjardins for- Look out!”

Amos spun his staff towards the two magicians in black. They’d been muttering spells, but Amos’s gust of wind swept them off their feet, sending them swirling out of control at the center of a dust devil. They churned along the street, picking up trash, leaves, and tamales, until the miniature tornado tossed the screaming magicians over the top of a building and out of sight.

On the other side of the plaza, Desjardins roared in anger: “Kane!”

The Chief Lector slammed his staff into the ground. A crack opened in the pavement and began snaking towards us. As the crevice grew wider, the buildings trembled. Stucco flaked off the walls. The fissure would’ve swallowed us, but Isis’s voice spoke in my mind, telling me the word I needed.

I raised my wand. “Quiet. Hah-ri.”

Hieroglyphs blazed to life in front of us:

The fissure stopped just short of my feet. The earthquake died.