The darkness lifted a moment later, revealing a woman with the head of a cat. She stood in the center of the pit, considering her surroundings. Everything was quiet and still. The Walker stood perplexed, its crude mouth hanging open. Even the light wind that had played on the warm air of the pit had stopped. The world itself seemed to be holding its breath.

“Shhhhh!” hissed Todtman, before adding in a rushed and barely audible whisper: “Do not move, do not provoke her.”

Not moving, Alex could manage. Still lying on his back, sunk up to his neck in stone, he really didn’t have a choice. But he could not take his eyes off this … this what? She had the body of a woman, clothed in a long, sleek gown, but her head was that of a giant cat — the shape of a Siamese but the size of a lioness. The soft fur rippled as the wind picked up again. She began to walk, and as she did, the colors of her clothing shifted, red bleeding seamlessly to blue flowing easily to green. A new color for each graceful step. Alex held his breath as she passed close by. Her floor-length gown brushed the ground with a soft, velvety swoosh.

He craned his head as far as his stone-stuck neck would let him. She was heading toward Pai’s motionless body. And just like that, he knew.

Bastet.

The cat-headed goddess had been Alex’s mom’s favorite. He ran through everything he knew about her: a powerful goddess, revered by the ancient Egyptians as a protector of both the pharaoh and the people.

And he remembered the little information plaque they’d salvaged from Pai’s wrecked case in London: PAI-EN-INMAR … FROM THE TEMPLE OF BASTET … Cats were considered sacred in ancient Egypt because of their association with Bastet. And temple cats like Pai were the most sacred of all.

Bastet glided ever closer to her fallen servant.

To harm any cat was considered bad luck, thought Alex.

The goddess stood over Pai’s twisted frame.

To harm a temple cat, well, that was just dumb …

Bastet bent down.

The Walker moved. Perhaps he had seen enough or perhaps he considered the cat’s remains to be his now, part of his sacrificial offering. Perhaps he simply wanted a closer look. Whatever the reason, he took a step directly toward Pai — toward Bastet.

And it’s never a good idea to challenge a goddess.

Her head turned and the slits of her cat eyes narrowed.

And she changed.

What had once been elegant and beautiful became fearsome. Her cat head was consumed by flames — red, then orange, then blue. Under the flames, Alex saw the shadow of her face, not a cat’s now but a lioness’s. Alex held his breath. Bastet was revered in ancient Egypt, but feared, too, and this was why. This was her other half. In her anger, she had taken on her predatory aspect. Standing before them now was her sister goddess …

Sekhmet.

The Destroyer.

Violence itself.

“Look away from her!” called Todtman.

Alex did as he was told. He looked instead toward the doomed Walker, who began to burn. The flames started at the edge of his ragged frame, and he writhed as they rushed inward, consuming him. Suddenly, his flaming body flew backward across the pit. He hit the far wall at incredible speed, like a missile.

FWOOOOM!

Alex felt the impact through the stone surrounding him and closed his eyes against the advancing wall of pulverized stone.

Quiet moments passed and the dust settled.

“She is gone,” breathed Todtman at last.

Alex opened his eyes and turned to look, surprised to find his neck no longer encased in stone but rather surrounded by powder. Slowly, he leaned forward and sat up. The powdered stone fell away, and he stood up, his limbs stiff but free. Todtman did the same, though the process was a bit harder on his old bones. Ren merely pulled her two feet free as if stepping out of a pair of stony slippers.

They all looked to the spot where Pai had been. The mummy cat was gone, and so was the one she served.

“Pai was just protecting me,” said Ren, her voice both sad and unsure. “Do you think she’s … dead?”

“She always was,” said Todtman with characteristic bluntness.

Ren glared at Todtman, and then did a quick double take in that direction. “A way out!”

Alex followed her eyes. Now that the dust had settled, he saw a huge hole blown into the far wall. Behind it was a dark hollow space. “Sekhmet blasted the Death Walker right through the wall,” said Alex, shaking his head. “That dude seriously picked the wrong cat to pick on.”

“Pai saved us,” said Ren.

Alex felt another quick stab of guilt: Pai had saved them when he had failed, and it had cost her everything. He felt the new burden settle atop all the others, and all he managed to say was a halfhearted “Yeah.”

“No!” said Ren, insisting on it. “She. Saved. Us.”

“Yes,” said Todtman. “She sacrificed herself. She was noble — now let’s get out of here!”

Todtman took four steps forward, two of them limps, but by his fifth step, Ren was under one arm, supporting him. By the sixth, Alex was under the other. They hurried through the gaping hole in the pit wall. There was no sign of the Walker, not so much as a rib or pale stone eye.

“You remember how you said that without the Lost Spells the Walkers might be able to come back again?” said Alex.

“Yes,” said Todtman.

Alex took one more look around as they stepped through the smashed wall. “Well, I don’t think this one is coming back.”

Todtman smiled, but only briefly. As they stepped into the shadows, the finished floor and right angles told them this was not just a hole blasted into the rock. This was a room, and that meant this whole place was an underground stronghold.

“We must find a way out quickly,” said Todtman. “The leader is here and possibly others — a small army of men and guns, at the least. This is not a fight we want right now.”

Alex’s mind flashed to the rogues’ gallery of masked Order operatives they’d faced so far. But as they rushed across the room, it turned out it was the men and guns they had to deal with first. There were two of them, wearing the unmarked khaki uniforms The Order favored.

As the guards saw them, their eyes widened and their hands went to the pistols at their belts. But Alex’s hand was already on his scarab, and Todtman’s on his falcon. A wicked wind shear shot from Alex’s right hand. And his target was no ancient evil this time — this dude was maybe twenty-four. The wind slammed him backward into the wall, and he slowly slid down it, stunned and gasping.

Todtman took a different approach. The jeweled eyes of the falcon glowed softly, and the eyes of the second guard glazed over. The Watcher exerted a powerful hold over weak minds, minds used to taking orders. The man slid his pistol back into its holster. Todtman pulled himself free from Alex and Ren and approached him.

“What is this place?” Todtman asked.

“It is a secure facility. The Death Walker protects it.”

Alex nudged Ren. “Not anymore.”

“Protects what?” said Todtman. “What is here?”

The guard’s subjugated brain seemed to search for the right English words. “The … stone warriors,” he said at last. “And the prisoners.”

Alex’s eyes opened wide. Had they caught his mom?

Todtman was clearly thinking the same thing. “Americans?”

“One,” said the guard.

Alex’s heart stuttered. The first guard shifted on the floor and reached for his head, but Alex couldn’t react. He needed to hear this.

Todtman pressed him. “A woman?”

The man looked confused for a moment and then shook his head. “Boy,” he said.

Not his mom. Alex exhaled. Then something else occurred to him: An American boy … Could it be Luke? But the next moment he was chastising himself for being so stupid. He knew all too well that his super-jock cousin was working with The Order — probably getting ready to buy an NBA team with the money they must have paid him to betray them.

Alex saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see the first guard recover his bearings and reach for his gun. Alex spun around too late — but not Ren. She kicked the man hard in one bent shin.

The guard grabbed his shin and swore, giving Alex enough time to unleash a second blast of wind. The guard’s head smacked back into the wall with a hollow coconut BONK, and he was knocked out cold. But no sooner had one threat ended than a larger one loomed. Voices echoed through the room, coming from somewhere out in the pit.

“We need to get out of here,” said Ren.

Todtman nodded but didn’t budge. “Where are these stone warriors?”

The guard resisted. Todtman clutched the falcon harder, leaned in, and repeated himself in a hoarse, angry whisper: “WHERE?”

The guard raised his hand despite himself, pointing to a doorway along the half-shattered side wall. “One … flight … up … to … right,” the man spat out, fighting himself on every word.

“One last thing,” said Todtman, leaning back.

“We have to go,” hissed Ren, the echoing voices louder now.

Alex gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. “I’m sure it’s important,” he whispered.

“Do you have a broom?” asked Todtman. “It must get sandy in here …”

The guard looked confused but pointed to one shadowy corner. “Vielen Dank,” said Todtman. Thank you very much. “Now sleep.”

The guard crumpled to the floor as Todtman hobbled to the corner.

“Let’s go,” he said as he used the falcon’s power to shear off the head of the broom.

They rushed through the side door and up the stairs, one step ahead of the approaching voices. The only sounds were the soft, wooden thuds of Todtman’s new walking stick.