“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.”
Thoth gazed at the western horizon, where the sunset was turning blood-red. “Down the river at night, I should think. That’s how most people pass into the Land of the Dead. I would take a boat. You’ll find Anubis at the end of the river—” He pointed north, then changed his mind and pointed south. “Forgot, rivers flow south here. Everything is backward.”
“Agh!” Khufu ran his fingers down the frets of the guitar and ripped out a massive rock ’n’ roll riff. Then he belched as if nothing had happened and set down the guitar. Sadie and I just stared at him, but Thoth nodded as if the baboon had said something profound.
“Are you sure, Khufu?” Thoth asked.
Khufu grunted.
“Very well.” Thoth sighed. “Khufu says he would like to go with you. I told him he could stay here and type my doctoral thesis on quantum physics, but he’s not interested.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Sadie said. “Glad to have Khufu along, but where do we find a boat?”
“You are the blood of pharaohs,” Thoth said. “Pharaohs always have access to a boat. Just make sure you use it wisely.”
He nodded toward the river. Churning toward the shore was an old-fashioned paddlewheel steamboat with smoke billowing from its stacks.
“I wish you a good journey,” Thoth said. “Until we meet again.”
“We’re supposed to take that?” I asked. But when I turned to look at Thoth, he was gone, and he’d taken the barbecue with him.
“Wonderful,” Sadie muttered.
“Agh!” Khufu agreed. He took our hands and led us down to the shore.
Chapter 26. Aboard the Egyptian Queen
AS FAR AS RIDES TO THE Land of Death go, the boat was pretty cool. It had multiple decks with ornate railings painted black and green. The side paddlewheels churned the river into froth, and along the paddlewheel housings the name of the boat glittered in gold letters: egyptian queen.
At first glance, you’d think the boat was just a tourist attraction: one of those floating casinos or cruise boats for old people. But if you looked closer you started noticing strange little details. The boat’s name was written in Demotic and in hieroglyphics underneath the English. Sparkly smoke billowed from the stacks as if the engines were burning gold. Orbs of multicolored fire flitted around the decks. And on the prow of the ship, two painted eyes moved and blinked, scanning the river for trouble.
“That’s odd,” Sadie remarked.
I nodded. “I’ve seen eyes painted on boats before. They still do that all over the Mediterranean. But usually they don’t move.”
“What? No, not the stupid eyes. That lady on the highest deck. Isn’t that...” Sadie broke into a grin. “Bast!”
Sure enough, our favorite feline was leaning out the window of the pilot’s house. I was about to wave to her, when I noticed the creature standing next to Bast, gripping the wheel. He had a human body and was dressed in the white uniform of a boat captain. But instead of a head, a double-bladed axe sprouted from his collar. And I’m not talking about a small axe for chopping wood. I’m talking battle-axe: twin crescent-shaped iron blades, one in front where his face should be, one in the back, the edges splattered with suspicious-looking dried red splotches.
The ship pulled up to the dock. Balls of fire began zipping around—lowering the gangplank, tying off ropes, and basically doing crew-type stuff. How they did it without hands, and without setting everything on fire, I don’t know, but it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d seen that week.
Bast climbed down from the wheelhouse. She hugged us as we came aboard—even Khufu, who tried to return the favor by grooming her for lice.
“I’m glad you survived!” Bast told us. “What happened?”
We gave her the basics and her hair poofed out again. “Elvis? Gah! Thoth is getting cruel in his old age. Well, I can’t say I’m glad to be on this boat again. I hate the water, but I suppose—”
“You’ve been on this boat before?” I asked.
Bast’s smile wavered. “A million questions as usual, but let’s eat first. The captain is waiting.”
I wasn’t anxious to meet a giant axe, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about another one of Bast’s grilled-cheese-and-Friskies dinners, but we followed her inside the boat.
The dining parlor was lavishly decorated in Egyptian style. Colorful murals depicting the gods covered the walls. Gilded columns supported the ceiling. A long dining table was laden with every kind of food you could want—sandwiches, pizzas, hamburgers, Mexican food, you name it. It way made up for missing Thoth’s barbecue. On a side table stood an ice chest, a line of golden goblets, and a soda dispenser with about twenty different choices. The mahogany chairs were carved to look like baboons, which reminded me a little too much of Graceland’s Jungle Room, but Khufu thought they were okay. He barked at his chair just to show it who was top monkey, then sat on its lap. He picked an avocado from a basket of fruit and started peeling it.
Across the room, a door opened, and the axe dude came in. He had to duck to avoid cleaving the doorframe.
“Lord and Lady Kane,” the captain said, bowing. His voice was a quivery hum that resonated along his front blade. I saw a video one time of a guy playing music by hitting a saw with a hammer, and that’s sort of the way the captain sounded. “It is an honor to have you aboard.”
“‘Lady Kane,’” Sadie mused. “I like that.”
“I am Bloodstained Blade,” the captain said. “What are your orders?”
Sadie raised an eyebrow at Bast. “He takes orders from us?”
“Within reason,” Bast said. “He is bound to your family. Your father...” She cleared her throat. “Well, he and your mother summoned this boat.”
The axe demon made a disapproving hum. “You haven’t told them, goddess?”
“I’m getting to it,” Bast grumbled.
“Told us what?” I asked.
“Just details.” She rushed on. “The boat can be summoned once a year, and only in times of great need. You’ll need to give the captain your orders now. He must have clear directions if we’re to proceed, ah, safely.”
I wondered what was bothering Bast, but the axe dude was waiting for orders, and the flecks of dried blood on his blades told me I’d better not keep him in suspense.
“We need to visit the Hall of Judgment,” I told him. “Take us to the Land of the Dead.”
Bloodstained Blade hummed thoughtfully. “I will make the arrangements, Lord Kane, but it will take time.”
“We don’t have a lot of that.” I turned to Sadie. “It’s...what, the evening of the twenty-seventh?”
She nodded in agreement. “Day after tomorrow, at sunrise, Set completes his pyramid and destroys the world unless we stop him. So, yes, Captain Very Large Blade, or whatever it is, I’d say we’re in a bit of a rush.”
“We will, of course, do our best,” said Bloodstained Blade, though his voice sounded a little, well, sharp. “The crew will prepare your staterooms. Will you dine while you wait?”
I looked at the table laden with food and realized how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten since we were in the Washington Monument. “Yeah. Um, thanks, BSB.”
The captain bowed again, which made him look a little too much like a guillotine. Then he left us to our dinner.
At first, I was too busy eating to talk. I inhaled a roast beef sandwich, a couple of pieces of cherry pie with ice cream, and three glasses of ginger ale before I finally came up for air.
Sadie didn’t eat as much. Then again she’d had lunch on the plane. She settled for a cheese-and-cucumber sandwich and one of those weird British drinks she likes—a Ribena. Khufu carefully picked out everything that ended with -o—Doritos, Oreos, and some chunks of meat. Buffalo? Armadillo? I was scared to even guess.
The balls of fire floated attentively around the room, refilling our goblets and clearing away our plates as we finished.
After so many days spent running for our lives, it felt good to just sit at a dinner table and relax. The captain’s informing us that he couldn’t transport us instantly to the Land of the Dead was the best news I’d had in a long time.
“Agh!” Khufu wiped his mouth and grabbed one of the balls of fire. He fashioned it into a glowing basketball and snorted at me.
For once I was pretty sure what he’d said in Baboon. It wasn’t an invitation. It meant something like: “I’m going to play basketball by myself now. I will not invite you because your lack of skill would make me throw up.”
“No problem, man,” I said, though my face felt hot with embarrassment. “Have fun.”
Khufu snorted again, then loped off with the ball under his arm. I wondered if he’d find a court somewhere on board.
At the far end of the table, Bast pushed her plate away. She’d hardly touched her tuna Friskies.
“Not hungry?” I asked.
“Hmm? Oh...I suppose not.” She turned her goblet listlessly. She was wearing an expression I didn’t associate with cats: guilt.
Sadie and I locked eyes. We had a brief, silent exchange, something like:
You ask her.
No, you.
Of course Sadie’s better at giving dirty looks, so I lost the contest.
“Bast?” I said. “What did the captain want you to tell us?”
She hesitated. “Oh, that? You shouldn’t listen to demons. Bloodstained Blade is bound by magic to serve, but if he ever got loose, he’d use that axe on all of us, believe me.”