by Rick Riordan
The Nile boiled around me. A huge mass of brown seaweed erupted beneath me and lifted me skyward. Instinctively I held on, slowly realizing that the seaweed wasn’t seaweed. It was hair on top of a colossal head. The giant man rose from the Nile, higher and higher, until the hippo looked almost cute in comparison. I couldn’t tell much about the giant from the top of his head, but his skin was darker blue than my father’s. He had shaggy brown hair full of river muck. His belly was hugely swollen, and he seemed to be wearing nothing but a loincloth made of fish scales.
“BRRRAAHHHHH!” The hippo lunged, but the blue giant grabbed its bottom teeth and stopped it cold. The force of the impact nearly shook me off his head.
“Yay!” the blue giant bellowed. “Hippo toss! I love this game!” He swung his arms in a golf swing motion and launched the monster out of the water.
Few things are stranger than watching a giant hippo fly. It careened wildly, kicking its stubby legs as it sailed over the marshlands. Finally it crashed into a limestone cliff in the distance, causing a minor avalanche. Boulders collapsed on top of the hippo. When the dust settled, there was no sign of the monster. Cars kept driving down the river road. Fishing boats went about their business, as if blue giants fighting hippos was nothing remarkable on this stretch of the Nile.
“Fun!” the blue giant cheered. “Now, who summoned me?”
“Up here!” I yelled.
The giant froze. He carefully patted his scalp until he found me. Then he picked me up with two fingers, waded over to the riverbank, and gently set me down.
He pointed to Zia, who was struggling to reach the shore, and the Egyptian Queen, which was drifting downstream, listing and smoking from the stern. “Are those friends of yours?”
“Yes,” I said. “Could you help them?”
The giant grinned. “Be right back!”
A few minutes later the Egyptian Queen was safely moored. Zia sat next to me on the shore, wringing Nile water out of her hair.
Setne hovered next to us, looking quite smug, even though his arms were still tied. “So maybe next time you’ll trust me, Carter Kane!” He nodded at the giant, who loomed over us, still grinning like he was really excited to be here. “May I present my old friend Hapi!”
The blue giant waved at us. “Hi!”
His eyes were completely dilated. His teeth were brilliant white. A mass of stringy brown hair fell around his shoulders, and his skin rippled in different shades of watery blue. His belly was much too big for his body. It sagged over his fish-scale skirt like he was either pregnant or had swallowed a blimp. He was, without a doubt, the tallest, fattest, bluest, most cheerful hippie giant I had ever met.
I tried to place his name, but I couldn’t.
“Hapi?” I asked.
“Why, yes, I am happy!” Hapi beamed. “I’m always happy because I’m Hapi! Are you happy?”
I glanced at Setne, who seemed to find this terribly amusing.
“Hapi is the god of the Nile,” the ghost explained. “Along with his other duties, Hapi is the provider of bountiful harvests and all good things, and so he is always—”
“Happy,” I guessed.
Zia frowned up at the giant. “Does he have to be so big?”
The god laughed. Immediately he shrank down to human size, though the crazy cheerful look on his face was still pretty unnerving.
“So!” Hapi rubbed his hands with anticipation. “Anything else I can do for you kids? It’s been centuries since anybody summoned me. Since they built that stupid Aswan Dam, the Nile doesn’t flood every year like it used to. Nobody depends on me anymore. I could kill those mortals!”
He said this with a smile, as if he’d suggested bringing the mortals some home-baked cookies.
I did some quick thinking. It’s not often a god offers to do you favors—even if that god is psychotically over-caffeinated. “Actually, yes,” I said. “See, Setne suggested I summon you to deal with the hippo, but—”
“Oh, Setne!” Hapi chuckled and pushed the ghost playfully. “I hate this guy. Absolutely despise him! He’s the only magician who ever learned my secret name. Ha!”
Setne shrugged. “It was nothing, really. And I gotta say, you came in handy many times back in the old days.”
“Ha, ha!” Hapi’s smile became painfully wide. “I’d love to rip off your arms and legs, Setne. That would be amazing!”
Setne’s expression remained calm, but he drifted a little farther away from the smiling god.
“Um, anyway,” I said. “We’re on a quest. We need to find this magic book to defeat Apophis. Setne was leading us to the ruins of Memphis, but now our boat is busted. Do you think—?”
“Oh!” Hapi clapped excitedly. “The world is going to end tomorrow. I forgot!”
Zia and I exchanged looks.
“Right…” I said. “So, if Setne told you exactly where we were going, could you take us there? And, um, if he won’t tell you, then you could rip his limbs off. That would be fine.”
“Yay!” Hapi cried.
Setne gave me a murderous look. “Yeah, sure. We’re going to the serapeum—the temple of the Apis Bull.”
Hapi smacked his knee. “I should have figured! Brilliant place to hide something. That’s pretty far inland, but sure, I can send you there if you want. And just so you know, Apophis has demons scouring the riverbanks. You’d never get to Memphis without my help. You’d get torn into a million pieces!”
He seemed genuinely pleased to share that news.
Zia cleared her throat. “Okay, then. We’d love your help.”
I turned toward the Egyptian Queen, where Bloodstained Blade stood at the railing, awaiting further orders. “Captain,” I called, “wait here and continue repairing the ship. We’ll—”
“Oh, the ship can go too!” Hapi interrupted. “That’s no problem.”
I frowned. I wasn’t sure how the river god was going to move the ship, especially since he’d told us Memphis was inland, but I decided not to ask.
“Belay that order,” I called to the captain. “The ship is coming with us. Once we reach Memphis, you’ll continue repairs and await further orders.”
The captain hesitated. Then he bowed his ax-blade head. “I obey, my lord.”
“Great!” Hapi said.
He held out his palm, which contained two slimy black orbs like fish eggs. “Swallow these. One each.”
Zia wrinkled her nose. “What are they?”
“They’ll take you where you want to go!” the god promised. “They’re Hapi pills.”
I blinked. “What now?”
The ghost Setne cleared his throat. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Yeah, you know. Hapi invented them. So that’s what they’re called.”
“Just eat them!” Hapi said. “You’ll see.”
Reluctantly, Zia and I took the pills. They tasted even worse than they looked. Instantly, I felt dizzy. The world shimmered like water.
“It was nice to meet you!” Hapi cried, his voice turning murky and distant. “You do realize you’re walking into a trap, don’t you? Okay! Good luck!”
With that, my vision went blue, and my body melted into liquid.
C A R T E R
12. Bulls with Freaking Laser Beams
BEING LIQUIDATED IS NOT FUN. I will never be able to walk by another LIQUIDATION SALE sign without getting seasick and feeling like my bones are turning to tapioca.
I know I’m going to sound like a public service announcement here, but for all you kids at home: if somebody offers you Hapi pills, just say, “No!”
I felt myself seeping inland through the mud, traveling at incredible speed. When I hit the hot sand, I evaporated, rising above the ground as a cloud of moisture, pushed west by the winds into the desert. I couldn’t exactly see, but I could feel the movement and the heat. My molecules agitated as the sun dispersed me.
Suddenly the temperature dropped again. I sensed cool stone around me—a cave or an underground room, maybe. I coa
lesced into moisture, splashed to the floor as a puddle, then rose and solidified into Carter Kane once more.
For my next trick, I buckled to my knees and lost my breakfast.
Zia stood near me, hugging her stomach. We seemed to be in the entry tunnel of a tomb. Below us, stone steps led into the darkness. A few feet above, desert sunlight blazed.
“That was horrible,” Zia gasped.
I could only nod. Now I understood the science lesson my dad had once taught me in homeschooling—matter has three forms: solid, liquid, and gas. In the last few minutes I’d been all three. And I didn’t like it.
Setne materialized just outside the doorway, smiling down at us. “So, did I come through again, or what?”
I didn’t remember loosening his bonds, but his arms were now free. That would’ve worried me more if I hadn’t felt so sick.
Zia and I were still wet and muddy from our swim in the Nile, but Setne looked immaculate—jeans and T-shirt freshly pressed, Elvis hair perfect, not even a spot on his white running shoes. That disgusted me so much, I staggered into the sunlight and threw up on him. Unfortunately, my stomach was mostly empty and he was a ghost, so nothing much happened.
“Hey, pal!” Setne adjusted his golden ankh necklace and straightened his jacket. “Some respect, all right? I did you a favor.”
“A favor?” I gulped back the horrible taste in my mouth. “Don’t—ever—”
“Never Hapi again,” Zia finished for me. “Never.”
“Aw, c’mon!” Setne spread his hands. “That was a smooth trip! Look, even your ship made it.”
I squinted. Mostly we were surrounded by flat, rocky desert, like the surface of Mars; but beached on a nearby sand dune was a slightly broken riverboat—the Egyptian Queen. The stern wasn’t on fire anymore, but the ship looked like it had taken more damage in transit. A section of railing was broken. One of the smokestacks was leaning dangerously. For some reason, a huge slimy tarp of fish scales was hanging off the pilot’s house like a snagged parachute.
Zia muttered, “Oh, gods of Egypt—please don’t let that be Hapi’s loincloth.”
Bloodstained Blade stood at the bow, facing our direction. He had no expression, being an ax head, but from the way his arms were crossed, I could tell he was not a Hapi camper.
“Can you fix the ship?” I called to him.
“Yes, my lord,” he hummed. “Given a few hours. Sadly, we seem to be stuck in the middle of a desert.”
“We’ll worry about that later,” I said. “Get the ship repaired. Wait here for us to return. You’ll receive more instructions at that time.”
“As you say.” Bloodstained Blade turned and started humming at the glowing orbs in a language I didn’t understand. The crew stirred into a flurry of activity.
Setne smiled. “See? Everything’s good!”
“Except we’re running out of time.” I looked at the sun. I figured it was one or two in the afternoon, and we still had a lot to do before Doomsday tomorrow morning. “Where does that tunnel go? What’s a serapeum? And why did Hapi say it was a trap?”
“So many questions,” Setne said. “Come on, you’ll see. You’re gonna love this place!”
I did not love this place.
The steps down led to a wide hall chiseled from golden bedrock. The barreled ceiling was so low, I could touch it without stretching my arms. I could tell that archaeologists had been here, from the bare electric bulbs that cast shadows across the arches. Metal beams braced the walls, but the cracks in the ceiling didn’t help me feel safe. I’d never been comfortable in enclosed spaces.
Every thirty feet or so, square alcoves opened up on either side of the main hall. Each niche held a massive freestanding stone sarcophagus.
After passing the fourth such coffin, I stopped. “Those things are way too big for humans. What’s in there?”
“Bull,” Setne said.
“Excuse me?”
Setne’s laugh echoed through the hall. I figured that if there were any sleeping monsters in this place, they were awake now.
“These are the burial chambers for the Apis Bull.” Setne gestured around him proudly. “I built all this, you know, back when I was Prince Khaemwaset.”
Zia ran her hand along the white stone lid of the sarcophagus. “The Apis Bull. My ancestors thought it was an incarnation of Osiris in the mortal world.”
“Thought?” Setne snorted. “It was his incarnation, doll. At least some of the time—like on festival days and whatnot. We took our Apis Bull seriously back then.”
He patted the coffin like he was showing off a used car. “This bad boy here? He had the perfect life. All the food he could eat. Got a harem of cows, burnt offerings, a special gold cloth for his back—all the perks. Only had to show himself in public a few times a year for big festivals. When he turned twenty-five, he got slaughtered in a big ceremony, mummified like a king, and put down here. Then a new bull took his place. Nice gig, huh?”
“Killed at twenty-five,” I said. “Sounds awesome.”
I wondered how many mummified bulls were down that hallway. I didn’t want to find out. I liked being right here, where I could still see the exit and the sunlight outside. “So why is this place called a—what was it?”
“Serapeum,” Zia answered. Her face was illuminated with golden light—probably just the electrical bulbs reflecting off the stone, but it seemed like she was glowing. “Iskandar, my old teacher—he told me about this place. The Apis Bull was a vessel for Osiris. In later times, the names were merged: Osiris-Apis. Then the Greeks shorted it to Serapis.”
Setne sneered. “Stupid Greeks. Moving in on our territory. Taking over our gods. I’m telling you, I got no love for those guys. But yeah, that’s how it happened. This place became known as a serapeum—a house for dead bull gods. Me, I wanted to call it the Khaemwaset Memorial of Pure Awesomeness, but my dad wouldn’t go for it.”
“Your dad?” I asked.
Setne waved aside the question. “Anyway, I hid the Book of Thoth down here before I died because I knew no one would ever disturb it. You’d have to be frothing-at-the-mouth crazy to mess with the sacred tomb of the Apis Bull.”
“Great.” I felt like I was turning back into liquid.
Zia frowned at the ghost. “Don’t tell me—you hid the book in one of these sarcophagi with a mummified bull, and the bull will come to life if we disturb it?”
Setne winked at her. “Oh, I did better than that, doll. Archaeologists have discovered this part of the complex.” He gestured at the electric lights and metal support beams. “But I’m gonna take you on a behind-the-scenes tour.”
The catacombs seemed to go on forever. Hallways split off in different directions, all of them lined with sarcophagi for holy cows. After descending a long slope, we ducked through a secret passage behind an illusionary wall.
On the other side, there were no electric lights. No steel beams braced the cracked ceiling. Zia summoned fire at the tip of her staff and burned away a canopy of cobwebs. Our footprints were the only marks on the dusty floor.
“Are we close?” I asked.
Setne chuckled. “It’s just getting good.”
He led us farther into the maze. Every so often, he stopped to deactivate traps with a command or a touch. Sometimes he made me do it—supposedly because he couldn’t cast certain spells, being dead—though I got the feeling he thought it would be incredibly funny if I failed and died.
“How come you can touch some things but not other things?” I asked. “You seem to have a real selective ability.”
Setne shrugged. “I don’t make the rules of the spirit world, pal. We can touch money and jewelry. Picking up trash and messing with poison spikes, no. We get to leave that dirty work to the living.”
Whenever the traps were disabled, hidden hieroglyphs glowed and vanished. Sometimes we had to jump over pits that opened in the floor, or swerve when arrows shot from the ceiling. Paintings of gods and pharaohs peeled off the walls, formed i
nto ghostly guardians, and faded. The whole time, Setne kept a running commentary.
“That curse would’ve made your feet rot off,” he explained. “This one over here? That summons a plague of fleas. And this one—oh, man. This is one of my favorites. It turns you into a dwarf! I hate those short little guys.”
I frowned. Setne was shorter than me, but I decided to let it go.
“Yes, indeed,” he continued. “You’re lucky to have me along, pal. Right now, you’d be a flea-bitten dwarf with no feet. And you haven’t even seen the worst of it! Right this way.”
I wasn’t sure how Setne remembered so many details about this place from so long ago, but he was obviously proud of these catacombs. He must have relished designing horrible traps to kill intruders.
We turned down another corridor. The floor sloped again. The ceiling got so low, I had to stoop. I tried to stay calm, but I was having trouble breathing. All I could think about were those tons of stone over my head, ready to collapse at any moment.
Zia took my hand. The tunnel was so narrow, we were walking single file; but I glanced back at her.
“You okay?” I asked.
She mouthed the words: Watch him.
I nodded. Whatever trap Hapi had warned us about, I had a feeling we hadn’t seen it yet, even though we were surrounded by traps. We were alone with a murderous ghost, deep underground in his home territory. I didn’t have my khopesh anymore. For some reason I hadn’t been able to summon it from the Duat. And I couldn’t use my warrior avatar in such a tiny tunnel. If Setne turned on us, my options would be limited.
Finally the corridor widened. We reached a dead end—a solid wall flanked by two statues of my dad…I mean, Osiris.
Setne turned. “Okay, here’s the score, you guys. I’m gonna have to cast a disenchantment to open this wall. The spell takes a few minutes. I don’t want you freaking out halfway through and wrapping me in pink ribbons, or things could get ugly. Half-finished magic right here, and this whole tunnel could collapse on top of us.”
I managed to avoid screaming like a little girl—but only barely.