The Red Pyramid

It's not like there was any potential, Sadie, I chided myself. He's the bloody god of funerals. He's like five thousand years old.

Fine, Sadie. Call me the Carter-headed chicken. Happy?]

“Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself

The cat goddess gave us a playful smile, as if she had all kinds of trouble in mind. “Someone call for a chaperone?”

“Welcome,” Horus said.

“Um, hi,” I said.

“He has a way with words,” Isis muttered, which made Sadie snort.

Sadie flushed and pointed at him accusingly. “We’re not done, mister. I expect you to look after my parents. And next time I’m in the Land of the Dead, you and I will have words.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Hang on,” Sadie said. She stomped right up to the throne. Ammit growled at her, but Sadie growled back, which confused the monster into silence.

His eyes flashed with irritation. For a moment I thought he was planning my funeral, but he simply sighed in exasperation. “I do a ceremony called the opening of the mouth. It lets the soul of the dead person come forth. For you, Sadie Kane, I would invent a new ceremony: the closing of the mouth.”

Anubis frowned. He locked his very nice eyes with mine. “You’re not dead.”

“No,” I said. “Though we’re trying awfully hard.”

I looked at the blue book we’d stolen—pages full of wonderful secrets I couldn’t read. “What if we can’t do it?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “That book about mastering the element of cheese would’ve been more helpful.”