Suddenly I found it hard to breathe.
“Sadie?” Carter asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I know why the scroll isn’t guiding us,” I said. “I have to start the second part of the spell.”
“But we’re not there yet,” Carter said.
“And we won’t be unless I start the spell. It’s part of finding Ra.”
“What is?” Tawaret appeared at Bes’s side and almost scared the dwarf out of his Hawaiian shirt.
“The spell,” I said. “I have to take a leap of faith.”
“I think the frog goddess infected her,” Carter fretted.
“No, you dolt!” I said. “This is the only way to find Ra. I’m sure of it.”
“Hey, kid,” Bes said, “if you
start that spell, and we don’t find Ra by the time you’re finished reading it—”
“I know. The spell will backfire.” When I said backfire, I meant it quite literally. If the spell didn’t find its proper target, the power of the Book of Ra might blow up in my face.
“It’s the only way,” I insisted. “We don’t have time to wander the halls forever, and Ra will only appear if we invoke him. We have to prove ourselves by taking the risk. You’ll have to lead me. I can’t stumble on the words.”
“You have courage, dear.” Tawaret held up her torch. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you. Just do your reading.”
I opened the scroll to the second section. The rows of hieroglyphs, which had once seemed like disconnected phrases of rubbish, now made perfect sense.
“‘I invoke the name of Ra,’” I read aloud, “‘the sleeping king, lord of the noonday sun, who sits upon the throne of fire…’”
Well, you get the idea. I described how Ra rose from the sea of Chaos. I recalled his light shining on the primordial land of Egypt, bringing life to the Nile Valley. As I read, I felt warmer.
“Sadie,” Carter said, “you’re smoking.”
Hard not to panic when someone makes a comment like that, but I realized Carter was right. Smoke was curling off my body, forming a column of gray that drifted down the hallway.
“Is it my imagination,” Carter asked, “or is the smoke showing us the way? Ow!”
He said that last part because I stomped his foot, which I could do quite well without breaking my concentration. He got the message: Shut up and start walking.
Tawaret took my arm and guided me forward. Bes and Carter flanked us like security guards. We followed the trail of smoke down two more corridors and up a flight of stairs. The Book of Ra became uncomfortably warm in my hands. The smoke from my body began obscuring the letters.
“You’re doing well, Sadie,” Tawaret said. “This hallway looks familiar.”
I don’t know how she could tell, but I stayed focused on the scroll. I described Ra’s sun boat sailing across the sky. I spoke of his kingly wisdom and the battles he’d won against Apophis.
A bead of sweat trickled down my face. My eyes began to burn. I hoped they weren’t literally on fire.
When I came to the line, “Ra, the sun’s zenith…” I realized we’d stopped in front of a door.
It didn’t look any different from any other door, but I pushed it open and stepped inside. I kept reading, though I was quickly approaching the end of the spell.
Inside, the room was dark. In the sputtering light of Tawaret’s torch, I saw the oldest man in the world sleeping in bed—his face shriveled, his arms like sticks, his skin so translucent, I could see every vein. Some of the mummies in Bahariya had looked more alive than this old husk.
“‘The light of Ra returns,’” I read. I nodded at the heavily curtained windows, and fortunately Bes and Carter got my meaning. They yanked back the curtains, and red light from the Lake of Fire flooded the room. The old man didn’t move. His mouth was pursed like his lips had been sewn together.
I moved to his bedside and kept reading. I described Ra awakening at dawn, sitting in his throne as his boat climbed the sky, the plants turning toward the warmth of the sun.