The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles, #1)

by Rick Riordan

“Manhattan has other problems. Other gods. It’s best we stay separate.”

“Fairness does not mean everyone gets the same,” Dad said. “Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself.

Its body was like a leopard’s—lean and sinewy, with golden spotted fur—but its neck was completely wrong. It was green and scaly and at least as long as the rest of its body. It had a cat’s head, but no normal cat’s. When it turned its glowing red eyes towards us, it howled, showing a forked tongue and fangs dripping with green venom.

Manhattan,

“And here’s the mummy”

“Fairness means everyone gets what they need. And the only way to get what you need is to make it happen yourself.”

Music played—a sound so powerful that the air burned.

As usual, modern folk have it backward. Black is the color of good soil, like the soil of the Nile. You can grow food in black soil. Food is good. Therefore black is good. Red is the color of desert sand. Nothing grows in the desert. Therefore red is evil.”

Then later they confused me with their god Hermes.

“Or perhaps you could bring me up to speed on modern courtship rituals.”

“That’s odd. I don’t remember.”

“I am Carter Kane,” I said. “Blood of the Pharaohs, Eye of Horus. And now, Set—brother, uncle, traitor—I’m going to crush you like a gnat.”

Boston

orange T-shirt

She was scary.