Alex felt like he was being rushed.

And he was. His mom had offered to make the trip in place of him and Ren, but then she’d barely been able to get out of her chair on her own.

“I’ll go with them,” said Luke. “I’ve got one of those gizmos, too.” Calling his ancient cheetah amulet a “gizmo” undercut his credibility, but his next statement was more convincing: “You can’t just send two nerds to the afterlife alone.”

The search party grew to three, and it had been full steam ahead after that.

“You have everything you need now,” said Todtman, handing Alex a worn-out backpack rescued from the museum’s lost and found room and filled with handpicked artifacts.

Alex slipped it on and felt the bow of an ancient wooden carving of a boat jab him in the back. He shrugged his shoulders to shift the little boat over and heard metal clink against metal at the bottom of the pack.

Then the three could avoid it no longer. They turned to face the false door. It was one of the largest Alex had ever seen, a six-foot-high slab of stone with a rectangular indentation at its center painted a faded red ocher and bordered by raised reliefs of columns. Hieroglyphic writing was carved deep into the ancient stone. It was a symbolic gateway to the afterlife, but in about two steps, it was about to get very real.

Alex pulled the scarab out from under his shirt.

“Be careful, Alex,” said his mom. Alex heard something different in her voice, not a torn raspiness but a quiver of deep concern that sounded almost as painful. “You too, Ren … And even you, Luke. If you are in danger, come back.”

Todtman listened with a just-sucked-lemon look on his face that seemed to say: Come back? They haven’t even left yet! His actual words were only slightly more diplomatic:

“Yes, be careful, of course — but do not waste time! The world of the living and the world of the dead are very close now. We have seen it ourselves: mummies by the thousands, spirits in the streets. The boundaries are falling, and The Order is getting stronger. Look for signs of The Order when you cross over. Even in the afterlife, they will guard their prize closely. Use your amulets to guide you, if you can. We must find the Lost Spells and repair the damage they’re done to our world.”

Alex looked away. Todtman could say “we” until he was blue in his froggy face, but he wasn’t going. He was staying back: Mission Control to their moon shot, and reinforcements if necessary. Still, Alex knew he was right. The worlds were closer now. His mom had used the Spells to open a gateway between them, to bring him back. Now The Order was using the Spells to tear down the walls — to use the power of the world of the dead to rule the world of the living. The old legend was coming true. The Final Kingdom was almost here.

Almost.

They still had one last, desperate chance.

Alex took a deep breath and one more look at his mom. He opened and closed his mouth, like a guppy, but he couldn’t even begin to think of what to say. Instead, he just nodded. Reluctantly, she nodded, too. He looked over at Ren and Luke.

“Let’s do this,” he said with as much bravery as he could muster. It wasn’t much.

Luke gave him a sympathetic look. “Nice try, cuz,” he said. “But it goes like this … ” His next words would’ve fit right in in a football huddle: “LET’S DO THIS!”

Alex had to admit, it sounded better coming from him. He was even a little fired up by it. Without another word, Alex wrapped his hand around his scarab and stepped toward solid stone.

Beside him, Ren said two words, very softly: “For home.” Then she stepped forward, too.

Right behind them, Luke said, “It’s go time.”

The next thing Alex heard was a loud POP!

His vision turned red as he passed through the stone, and he closed his eyes instinctively. When he opened them again, he was in a different world. The washed-out electric lighting of the museum was replaced by a warm amber glow. All around him, deeper veins of red and orange and yellow pooled in the air, coming together and hinting at shapes only to pull apart and drain away. Alex looked down at his feet and saw what appeared to be a well-worn dirt path. He looked back over his shoulder and saw a transparent rose-pink rectangle shimmering in the air: the false door, as seen from the other side. Next to it, Ren and Luke stood washed in the yellow-orange light and blinking incredulously.

“Are you okay?” called Alex over the low, steady hum that seemed to surround them.

All three of them clutched their amulets tightly, like lifelines, but Luke gave him a thumbs-up with his free hand, and Ren called back: “I think so. It’s not as scary this time.”

Alex nodded. The last time they had traveled through the afterlife, it had been a darker and more frightening place. But now, high above, a fiery object was making slow progress across the golden sky. “It’s daytime now,” he said.

Luke looked up, shielded his eyes, and said, “The sun is all jacked up.”

It was true. It was hard to see through its blazing glow, but the object above them wasn’t round. If anything, it looked kind of like a boat. Alex was amazed to realize that it was a boat. As many pictures and carvings as he’d seen of it, his next words sounded crazy, even to him: “It’s the sun barque of Amun-Re.”

“The sun god?” stammered Ren.

Alex could see the idea ricocheting around Ren’s orderly mind. He seriously hoped she wouldn’t lose it. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and opened them. “Okay, whatever,” she said. “Let’s just get going.”

Alex inhaled the fragrant air, clamped down a little tighter on his scarab, and closed his eyes.

It was the biggest test of his life, and it had only one question.

Could he feel it?

The scarab could detect the undead and the death magic that created them. It had a strong connection to the Spells, and so did Alex. In Minyahur, the small desert village where his mom had hidden out, studying the Spells, the scarab had nearly burned his hand off when the Spells were close by. And he’d passed out the first time he’d seen them up close. Using the amulet to detect death magic here seemed like a good way to get his hand burned off — this was the world of the dead!

But as his eyes closed and his senses stretched out, all he felt — heard, really — was the same buzzing hum getting louder. That’s what it was, he realized: the strong, steady signal of the afterlife all around. It was the energy of this strange place, and he didn’t need his amulet to hear it.

He relaxed a little more and breathed.

As he relaxed, his senses opened further, and then he did sense something. It wasn’t a shape or an image as much as a feeling, an almost magnetic pull. The amulet began to heat up in his hand.

He shuffled his feet slightly, turned his shoulders, and then raised his hand.

“The Spells are in that direction,” he said. “Somewhere over there.”

“Are you sure?” said Ren.

Alex nodded. “I feel a really strong signal. It’s almost … pulling me there.”

He opened his eyes and looked down the length of his arm as if it were the barrel of a gun. He stared into the distance. The air was thick and smelled of earth and water. It still swirled with warm colors and phantom shapes, but the shifting patterns decorated the view more than they obscured it. He could see fields extending outward in every direction, tall stalks of wheat and barley swaying in the wind, washed in golden light. Off in the distance, there were figures moving among the rows of shifting grain, and Alex recognized the timeless, repetitive motions of farmers working the land.

And directly in front of his outstretched arm, past acres of golden fields, was the glittering blue-green band of a river.

The Nile.

As otherworldly as it all seemed, it still made sense to him. The ancient Egyptians believed the dead crossed the Nile on the first leg of their journey into the afterlife. Back at the museum, they’d prepared for the possibility that they might have to do it themselves.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Luke, staring in the direction Alex had pointed. “We’re in the land of death, or whatever; there are dudes in these fields, dead dudes; something is trying to pull you across a river … and you want to go?” He lifted his chin toward the riverbank. “You can’t even see what’s on the other side.”

Alex lifted his gaze. The land beyond the winding waterway was obscured by a heavy, fog-like haze. The kingdom of the dead was holding its secrets close.

“We have to,” said Alex, trying to sound calmer and more confident than he felt. “I think that’s where the Spells are.”

Luke considered it for a moment and then shrugged. “You’re gonna get us killed,” he said. “But at least we’re in the right place for it.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ren said, eyeing the fieldworkers swaying in the distance. “The faster we find them, the better.”

The three friends set off cautiously down the path, the dirt under their feet as black as charcoal. Alex ventured one last look over his shoulder at the fiery vessel inching across the morning sky. He felt its heat on the back of his neck, and when he looked down, he saw his shadow stretching out before him.

They would travel to the west, where the sun died each day.