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I stared at her uncomprehendingly.

“The biggest obelisk ever constructed,” she said. “The Washington Monument.”

I had another moment of vertigo and moved away from the window. Carter grabbed my shoulder and helped me sit down.

“You should rest,” he said. “You passed out for...how long, Bast?”

“Two hours and thirty-two minutes,” she said. “I’m sorry, Sadie. Opening more than one portal a day is extremely taxing, even with Isis helping.”

Carter frowned. “But we need her to do it again, right? It’s not sunset here yet. We can still use portals. Let’s open one and get to Arizona. That’s where Set is.”

Bast pursed her lips. “Sadie can’t summon another portal. It would overextend her powers. I don’t have the talent. And you, Carter...well, your abilities lie elsewhere. No offense.”

“Oh, no,” he grumbled. “I’m sure you’ll call me next time you need to boomerang some fruit bats.”

“Besides,” Bast said, “when a portal is used, it needs time to cool down. No one will be able to use the Washington Monument—”

“For another twelve hours.” Carter cursed. “I forgot about that.”

Bast nodded. “And by then, the Demon Days will have begun.”

“So we need another way to Arizona,” Carter said.

I suppose he didn’t mean to make me feel guilty, but I did. I hadn’t thought things through, and now we were stuck in Washington.

I glanced at Bast out the corner of my eye. I wanted to ask her what the men at the Louvre had meant about her leading us to ruin, but I was afraid to. I wanted to believe she was on our side. Perhaps if I gave her a chance, she’d volunteer the information.

“At least those magicians can’t follow us,” I prompted.

Bast hesitated. “Not through the portal, no. But there are other magicians in America. And worse...Set’s minions.”

My heart climbed into my throat. The House of Life was scary enough, but when I remembered Set, and what his minions had done to Amos’s house...

“What about Thoth’s spellbook?” I said. “Did we at least find a way to fight Set?”

Carter pointed to the corner of the room. Spread out on Bast’s raincoat was Dad’s magic toolbox and the blue book we’d stolen from Desjardins.

“Maybe you can make sense of it,” Carter said. “Bast and I couldn’t read it. Even Doughboy was stumped.”

I picked up the book, which was actually a scroll folded into sections. The papyrus was so brittle, I was afraid to touch it. Hieroglyphs and illustrations crowded the page, but I couldn’t make sense of them. My ability to read the language seemed to be switched off.

Isis? I asked. A little help?

Her voice was silent. Maybe I’d worn her out. Or maybe she was cross with me for not letting her take over my body, the way Horus had asked Carter to do. Selfish of me, I know.

I closed the book in frustration. “All that work for nothing.”

“Now, now,” Bast said. “It’s not so bad.”

“Right,” I said. “We’re stuck in Washington, D.C. We have two days to make it to Arizona and stop a god we don’t know how to stop. And if we can’t, we’ll never see our dad or Amos again, and the world might end.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bast said brightly. “Now, let’s have a picnic.”

She snapped her fingers. The air shimmered, and a pile of Friskies cans and two jugs of milk appeared on the carpet.

“Um,” Carter said, “can you conjure any people food?”

Bast blinked. “Well, no accounting for taste.”

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