So for Magic Problem-Solving 101, we headed to the training room and blew stuff up.

Amos stopped before the entrance, which was the size of a garage door—a dark heavy square of timber with no visible handle or lock. “Carter after you.” “Um, how do I—” “How do you think?” Great another mystery. I was about to suggest we ram Amos’s head against it and see if that worked.

Die,human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!

Only the fire of life can melt the chains of death.

I found that things weren't going well upstairs. Carter was a crumpled heap of chicken warrior on the slope of the pyramid.

We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later.

More minions!” he shouted. “Come to me!” That couldn’t be good. Another round of giant crocs and we’d be dead. Why don’t we get minions? I complained to Horus, but he didn’t answer.