Leo could run pretty fast when someone was trying to kill him. Sadly, he’d had a lot of practice.

Carter started down the stairs, but I grabbed his arm. “Hang on. What about traps?” He frowned. “Traps?” “Didn’t Egyptian tombs have traps?” “Well…sometimes. But this isn’t a tomb. Besides, more often they had curses, like the burning curse, the donkey curse—” “Oh, lovely. That sounds so much better.

A little slower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over.

Do you think me cruel?” Neith asked. “Oh, yes, I collect the pockets of my enemies.” “Horrifying,” I said. “I didn’t know demons had pockets.” “Oh, yes.” Neith glanced in either direction, apparently to be sure no one was eavesdropping. “You just have to know where to look.

Even his hair was bigger—a massive globe of blue-black frizz so thick that his lobster-claw horns appeared to be drowning as they tried to swim their way to the surface. “Is that why they named you Aphros?” Leo asked as they glided down the path from the cave. “Because of the Afro?” Aphros scowled. “What do you mean?” “Nothing,” Leo said quickly.

Egypt is the First Nome. New York is the twenty-first. What’s the last one, the Three-hundred-and-sixtieth?” “That would be Antarctica,” Zia said. “A punishment assignment. Nothing there but a couple of cold magicians and some magic penguins.” “Magic penguins?” “Don’t ask.

Your lifeline...oh, the burning stick. Right." Leo resisted the urge to set his hand ablaze and yell: BWAH HA HA!