The kite let out a chirping sound—“Ha, ha, ha.” Sadie was laughing at me.
I opened my own beak, but no sound came out.
“Oh, you two look delicious,” Bast said, licking her lips. “No, no—er, I mean wonderful. Now, off you go!”
I spread my majestic wings. I had really done it! I was a noble falcon, lord of the sky. I launched myself off the sidewalk and flew straight into the fence.
“Ha—ha—ha,” Sadie chirped behind me.
Bast crouched down and began making weird chittering noises. Uh-oh. She was imitating birds. I’d seen enough cats do this when they were stalking. Suddenly my own obituary flashed in my head: Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat, Muffin.
I spread my wings, kicked off with my feet, and with three strong flaps, I was soaring through the rain. Sadie was right behind me. Together we spiraled up into the air.
I have to admit: it felt amazing. Ever since I was a little kid, I’d had dreams in which I was flying, and I always hated waking up. Now it wasn’t a dream or even a ba trip. It was one hundred percent real. I sailed on the cold air currents above the rooftops of Paris. I could see the river, the Louvre Museum, the gardens and palaces. And a mouse—yum.
Hang on, Carter, I thought. Not hunting mice. I zeroed in on Desjardins’ mansion, tucked in my wings, and shot downward.
I saw the rooftop garden, the double glass doors leading inside, and the voice inside me said: Don’t stop. It’s an illusion. You’ve got to punch through their magic barriers.
It was a crazy thought. I was plummeting so fast I would smack against the glass and become a feathery pancake, but I didn’t slow down.
I rammed straight into the doors—and sailed through them as if they didn’t exist. I spread my wings and landed on a table. Sadie sailed in right behind me.
We were alone in the middle of a library. So far, so good.
I closed my eyes and thought about returning to my normal form. When I opened my eyes again, I was regular old Carter, sitting on a table in my regular clothes, my workbag back on my shoulder.
Sadie was still a kite.
“You can turn back now,” I told her.
She tilted her head and regarded me quizzically. She let out a frustrated croak.
I cracked a smile. “You can’t, can you? You’re stuck?”
She pecked my hand with her extremely sharp beak.
“Ow!” I complained. “It’s not my fault. Keep trying.”
She closed her eyes and ruffled her feathers until she looked like she was going to explode, but she stayed a kite.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Bast will help once we get out of here.”
“Ha—ha—ha.”
“Just keep watch. I’m going to look around.”
The room was huge—more like a traditional library than a magician’s lair. The furniture was dark mahogany. Every wall was covered with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Books overflowed onto the floor. Some were stacked on tables or stuffed into smaller shelves. A big easy chair by the window looked like the kind of place Sherlock Holmes would sit smoking a pipe.
Every step I took, the floorboards creaked, which made me wince. I couldn’t hear anyone else in the house, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
Aside from the glass doors to the rooftop, the only other exit was a solid wooden door that locked from the inside. I turned the deadbolt. Then I wedged a chair up under the handle. I doubted that would keep magicians out for very long, but it might buy me a few seconds if things went bad.
I searched the bookshelves for what seemed like ages. All different types of books were jammed together—nothing alphabetized, nothing numbered. Most of the titles weren’t in English. None were in hieroglyphics. I was hoping for something with big gold lettering that said The Book of Thoth, but no such luck.
“What would a Book of Thoth even look like?” I wondered.
Sadie turned her head and glared at me. I was pretty sure she was telling me to hurry up.