I wished there were shabti to fetch things, like the ones in Amos’s library, but I didn’t see any. Or maybe...
I slung Dad’s bag off my shoulder. I set his magic box on the table and slid open the top. The little wax figure was still there, right where I’d left him. I picked him up and said, “Doughboy, help me find The Book of Thoth in this library.”
His waxy eyes opened immediately. “And why should I help you?”
“Because you have no choice.”
“I hate that argument! Fine—hold me up. I can’t see the shelves.”
I walked him around the room, showing him the books. I felt pretty stupid giving the wax doll a tour, but probably not as stupid as Sadie felt. She was still in bird form, scuttling back and forth on the table and snapping her beak in frustration as she tried to change back.
“Hold it!” Doughboy announced. “This one is ancient—right here.”
I pulled down a thin volume bound in linen. It was so tiny, I would’ve missed it, but sure enough, the front cover was inscribed in hieroglyphics. I brought it over to the table and carefully opened it. It was more like a map than a book, unfolding into four parts until I was looking at a wide, long papyrus scroll with writing so old I could barely make out the characters.
I glanced at Sadie. “I bet you could read this to me if you weren’t a bird.”
She tried to peck me again, but I moved my hand.
“Doughboy,” I said. “What is this scroll?”
“A spell lost in time!” he pronounced. “Ancient words of tremendous power!”
“Well?” I demanded. “Does it tell how to defeat Set?”
“Better! The title reads: The Book of Summoning Fruit Bats!”
I stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“Would I joke about such a thing?”
“Who would want to summon fruit bats?”
“Ha—ha—ha,” Sadie croaked.
I pushed the scroll away and we went back to searching.
After about ten minu
tes, Doughboy squealed with delight. “Oh, look! I remember this painting.”
It was a small oil portrait in a gilded frame, hanging on the end of a bookshelf. It must’ve been important, because it was bordered by little silk curtains. A light shone upon the portrait dude’s face so he seemed about to tell a ghost story.
“Isn’t that the guy who plays Wolverine?” I asked, because he had some serious jowl hair going on.
“You disgust me!” Doughboy said. “That is Jean-François Champollion.”
It took me a second, but I remembered the name. “The guy who deciphered hieroglyphics from the Rosetta Stone.”
“Of course. Desjardins’ great uncle.”
I looked at Champollion’s picture again, and I could see the resemblance. They had the same fierce black eyes. “Great uncle? But wouldn’t that make Desjardins—”
“About two hundred years old,” Doughboy confirmed. “Still a youngster. You know that when Champollion first deciphered hieroglyphics, he fell into a coma for five days? He became the first man outside the House of Life to ever unleash their magic, and it almost killed him. Naturally, that got the attention of the First Nome. Champollion died before he could join the House of Life, but the Chief Lector accepted his descendants for training. Desjardins is very proud of his family...but a little sensitive too, because he’s such a newcomer.”
“That’s why he didn’t get along with our family,” I guessed. “We’re like...ancient.”
Doughboy cackled. “And your father breaking the Rosetta Stone? Desjardins would’ve viewed that as an insult to his family honor! Oh, you should’ve seen the arguments Master Julius and Desjardins had in this room.”