The Red Pyramid

“‘Ah! Your son, obviously, and—’ The curator looked hesitantly at Sadie. ‘And this young lady?’

‘My daughter,’ Dad said.

Dr. Martin’s stare went temporarily blank. Doesn’t matter how open-minded or polite people think they are, there’s always that moment of confusion that flashes across their faces when they realize Sadie is part of our family. I hate it, but over the years I’ve come to expect it.”

Here, Carter, Sadie, and their father meet with the curator of the British Museum. This passage shows how deeply rooted the idea that families must look alike is ingrained in society. The curator has no problem figuring out that Carter is Julius’s son because both men are Black and of similar build and appearance. By contrast, Sadie presenting as white causes cognitive dissonance for the curator because she doesn’t look like her father and brother. Carter’s reaction shows how common such assumptions are, how hurtful they can be to families who don’t match society’s image of a family, and the inherent bias this image causes.

“[Give me the bloody mic.]

Hullo. Sadie here. My brother’s a rubbish storyteller. Sorry about that. But now you’ve got me, so all is well.

Let’s see. The explosion. Rosetta Stone in a billion pieces. Fiery evil bloke. Dad boxed in a coffin. Creepy Frenchman and Arab girl with the knife. Us passing out. Right.”

These lines come from the beginning of Chapter 3, the first chapter Sadie narrates. Since Carter and Sadie are recording the story after the events of the book have finished, the bracketed text here shows how the two still argue like siblings, even though they grow closer throughout the story. This passage also highlights Sadie’s different narrative style. She is more direct than Carter, and her speech pattern aligns with British, rather than American, English.

“‘And is this the east shore?’ Sadie asked. ‘You said something about that in London—my grandparents living on the east shore.’

Amos smiled. ‘Yes. Very good, Sadie. In ancient times, the east bank of the Nile was always the side of the living, the side where the sun rises. The dead were buried west of the river. It was considered bad luck, even dangerous, to live there. The tradition is still strong among...our people.’

‘Our people?’ I asked, but Sadie muscled in with another question.

‘So you can’t live in Manhattan?’ she asked.

Amos’s brow furrowed as he looked across at the Empire State Building. ‘Manhattan has other problems. Other gods. It’s best we stay separate.’”

Sadie, Carter, and Amos arrive at Amos’s mansion on the east bank of the East River in New York. In Egyptian mythology, the east side of the river was the side of the living, something Riordan stays true to in The Red Pyramid. Amos’s reference to the other gods on the west side of the river links The Kane Chronicles to the Percy Jackson universe. In Percy Jackson, the Empire State Building is the location of Mount Olympus and the home of the Greek gods. Here, Riordan sets up for the Percy Jackson-Kane Chronicles Crossover Series of short stories he later published. Amos’s observations also allow for the existence of multiple pantheons and religions with the caveat that the groups may not always get along, a nod to the conflicts between modern-day religions.

“Ever since breakfast, when it occurred to me that Dad had been trying to bring Mum back from the dead, a horrible emotion had been trying to take hold of me. And it wasn’t dread. Yes, the whole idea was creepy, much creepier than the shrine my grandparents kept in the hall cupboard to my dead mother. And yes, I told you I try not to live in the past and nothing could change the fact that my mum was gone. But I’m a liar. The truth was, I’d had one dream ever since I was six: to see my mum again. To actually get to know her, talk to her, go shopping, do anything. Just be with her once so I could have a better memory to hold on to. The feeling I was trying to shake was hope. I knew I was setting myself up for colossal hurt. But if it really were possible to bring her back, then I would’ve blown up any number of Rosetta Stones to make it happen.”

Here, Riordan explores the intersection of hope and grief. Sadie was six years old when her mother died, and as a result, she has only fractured memories of her. Even after seeing the destruction the explosion at the British Museum caused and the danger it released in the form of Set, Sadie is still willing to cause more destruction to get her mother back. Sadie’s thoughts here indicate she has more growth ahead, foreshadowing her later struggle over whether or not to save her father or the world.

“‘One of my subjects, offering help. He’ll spread the news about our predicament. Soon every cat in New York will be on alert.’

‘He was so battered,’ Sadie said. ‘If he’s your subject, couldn’t you heal him?’

‘And take away his marks of honor? A cat’s battle scars are part of his identity.’”

These lines come after Carter, Sadie, and Bast escape Amos’s mansion. A tomcat with many scars approaches, speaks with Bast, and then runs off, showing the loyalty all cats hold for Bast. Sadie’s comments about healing the cat and Bast’s response are opposing mindsets about the visible marks of battle. Humans prioritize appearance, desiring to remove any signs of imperfection. By contrast, Bast and other cats see scars as badges of honor that mark the battles they’ve fought and won.

“‘I’m not good at portals,’ Bast said. ‘Cats are protectors. Just control your emotions. Panic or fear will kill a spell. We have to get out of here before Set summons the other gods to his cause.’

I frowned. ‘You mean Set’s got, like, other evil gods on speed dial?’

Bast glanced nervously toward the trees. ‘Evil and good may not be the best way to think of it, Carter. As a magician, you must think about chaos and order. Those are the two forces that control the universe. Set is all about chaos.’”

Here, Bast, Carter, and Sadie are on the run from Set’s minions following the explosion at Amos’s mansion. The conversation shows two different ways of viewing the forces in control of the universe. Carter’s modern-day view focuses on “good” and “bad.” Anything destructive is bad, and anything that opposes that destruction is good. Destruction and repair are assigned sides of a conflict. By contrast, order and chaos are a dichotomy rather than a duel. Neither chaos nor order is inherently good or evil. By its nature, chaos causes more destruction while order aligns things, but both may be used for good or evil purposes.

“We saw a few other people—mostly older men and women. Some wore linen robes, some modern clothes. One guy in a business suit walked past with a black leopard on a leash, as if that were completely normal. Another guy barked orders to a small army of brooms, mops, and buckets that were scuttling around, cleaning up the city.

‘Like that cartoon,’ Sadie said. ‘Where Mickey Mouse tries to do magic and the brooms keep splitting and toting water.’

‘The Sorcerer’s Apprentice,’ Zia said. ‘You do know that was based on an Egyptian story, don’t you?’”

Here, Zia leads Carter and Sadie through the underground city outside the main temple of the House of Life. The mixture of modern and traditional clothing builds on Riordan’s story world, showing how ancient and modern cultures mix in his version of Egyptian myth. The source of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice as Egyptian dates back to a poem written by the Greek satirist Lucian in AD 150. In one version of the poem, Eucrates tells his friend several stories to validate the supernatural. One of these is about an Egyptian mystic whom Eucrates apprenticed for, and the story involves Eucrates enchanting items, such as brooms, only to have the magic get out of hand.

“‘Yes. The combination of human creativity and godly power can be quite formidable. At any rate, when Osiris and Isis first walked the earth, their hosts were brother and sister. But mortal hosts are not permanent. They die, they wear out. Later in history, Osiris and Isis took new forms--humans who were husband and wife. Horus, who in one lifetime was their brother, was born into a new life as their son.’

‘That’s confusing,’ I said. ‘And a little gross.’

Iskandar shrugged. ‘The gods do not think of relationships the way we humans do. Their hosts are merely like changes of clothes. This is why the ancient stories seem so mixed up. Sometimes the gods are described as married, or siblings, or parent and child, depending on their hosts. The pharaoh himself was called a living god, you know. Egyptologists believe this was just a lot of propaganda, but in fact it was often literally true. The greatest of the pharaohs became hosts for gods, usually Horus. He gave them power and wisdom, and let them build Egypt into a mighty empire.’”

This conversation between Sadie and Iskandar comes after Sadie gets trapped in the vision of a conflict between Set, Horus, and Isis. Iskandar explains the relationships between the gods, a way for Riordan to deliver pertinent information about Egyptian myth to both Sadie and the reader. While humans are believed to live one life and have defined family members (parents, siblings, etc.), the Egyptian gods took on different roles toward one another in their various incarnations. Human culture dictates Sadie should feel disgusted by the idea of Isis being both Horus’s mother and wife, but the gods and Iskandar see nothing wrong with these blurred relationship lines. Iskandar describes how the gods would provide pharaohs with power, which foreshadows Carter and Sadie discovering that they are hosting gods and descendants of the pharaohs.

“I was about to say, ‘You were only eight.’ Then I realized I’d been the same age when my mom died, when Sadie and I were split up. I remembered all of that so clearly. I could still see our house in Los Angeles and the way the stars looked at night from our back porch overlooking the ocean. My dad would tell us wild stories about the constellations. Then every night before bed, Sadie and I would cuddle up with Mom on the sofa, fighting for her attention, and she’d tell us not to believe a word of Dad’s stories. She’d explain the science behind the stars, talk about physics and chemistry as if we were her college students. Looking back on it, I wondered if she’d been trying to warn us: Don’t believe in those gods and myths. They’re too dangerous.

I remembered our last trip to London as a family, how nervous Mom and Dad seemed on the plane. I remembered our dad coming back to our grandparents’ flat after Mom had died, and telling us there had been an accident. Even before he explained, I knew it was bad, because I’d never seen my dad cry before.

The little details that did fade drove me crazy—like the smell of Mom’s perfume, or the way her voice sounded. The older I got, the harder I held on to those things. I couldn’t imagine not remembering anything. How could Zia stand it?”

Here, Zia has just told Carter she doesn’t remember anything about her life before a certain point—a moment that foreshadows that Zia is a shabti. Carter’s response reveals how memory and grief affect us. He can recall learning of his mother’s death, suggesting that traumatic moments have a stronger foothold in our minds. By contrast, the everyday details have faded, which speaks to how humans don’t permanently etch details into their brains. While this can be hurtful when we no longer have those details in our everyday lives, the brain letting go of information is a survival tactic, if one that can enhance grief. Carter wonders if his mother’s scientific description of the stars was a warning. It may be, but it may also be that she wanted Carter and Sadie to know both the mythological and scientific backgrounds of the universe.

“I pointed to the front door, which was painted bright red. ‘Isn’t red a bad color in Egypt? The color of Set?’

Bast scratched her chin. ‘Now that you mention it, yes. It’s the color of chaos and destruction.’

‘I thought black was the evil color,’ Sadie said.

‘No, dear. 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.’”

This passage comes while Carter, Bast, and Sadie prepare to break into Desjardins’s mansion. The red door is the front door of Desjardins’s home, which is a red herring that Desjardins is hosting Set in this book. It may foreshadow events that take place later in the series. Sadie believing black is an evil color shows how cultural beliefs get lost to time if not promoted. Bast’s logic about black dirt being fertile while red sand is not makes perfect sense, but modern culture dictates that darkness is evil, so that is the belief that has been perpetuated.

“I started talking to her the way I would to a scared animal. I wasn’t really paying attention to the words. I was just trying to keep my tone calm. But after a minute I realized I was telling her about my travels with Dad, and the memories that had helped me get out of bird form. I told her about the time Dad and I got stuck in the Venice airport and I ate so many cannoli, I got sick. I told her about the time in Egypt when I found the scorpion in my sock, and Dad managed to kill it with a TV remote control. I told her how we’d gotten separated once in the London Underground and how scared I was until Dad finally found me. I told her some pretty embarrassing stories that I’d never shared with anyone, because who could I share them with?”

Here, Carter and Sadie have escaped Desjardins’s mansion, and Sadie is stuck in her bird form, unable to change back to human. Carter doesn’t yet realize it, but he still thinks of Sadie as family and trusts her implicitly, evidenced by how he willingly shares his most embarrassing moments to help her. Carter also realizes that he’s missed Sadie and appreciates having her to listen.

“‘Carter,’ I said with glee, ‘all that talk about basketball and the Lakers, and you’re absolute rubbish! Beaten by monkeys!’

He groaned miserably. ‘It was...it was Dad’s favorite game.’

I stared at him. Dad’s favorite game. God, why hadn’t that occurred to me?

Apparently he took my gobsmacked expression as further criticism.

‘I...I can tell you any NBA stat you want,’ he said a bit desperately. ‘Rebounds, assists, free throw percentages.’”

These lines come before Sadie and Carter visit Thoth. Carter has just played a game of basketball with Khufu and other baboons. Although Carter is a Lakers fan, he is terrible at the game, which embarrasses him because it was his dad’s favorite game. Carter felt the pressure to be good at something his dad enjoyed, and now that his dad is gone, he feels guilty for not being able to play well, something that would let him feel closer to his dad.

“‘Ra,’ Bast said. ‘For eons, Ra’s glorious sun boat would travel this route each night, fighting off the forces of Apophis.’ She looked round nervously as if remembering old ambushes. ‘It was dangerous: every night, a fight for existence. But as he passed, Ra would bring sunlight and warmth to the Duat, and these lost spirits would rejoice, remembering the world of the living.’

‘But that’s a legend,’ Carter said. ‘The earth revolves around the sun. The sun never actually descends under the earth.’

‘Have you learned nothing of Egypt?’ Bast asked. ‘Conflicting stories can be equally true. The sun is a ball of fire in space, yes. But its image you see as it crosses the sky, the life-giving warmth and light it brings to the earth—that was embodied by Ra. The sun was his throne, his source of power, his very spirit. But now Ra has retreated into the heavens. He sleeps, and the sun is just the sun. Ra’s boat no longer travels on its cycle through the Duat. He no longer lights the dark, and the dead feel his absence most keenly.’”

Here, Carter, Sadie, and Bast travel along the river through the Duat and pass the land of lost spirits. They follow the path Ra used to take each night, and the spirits are drawn to the boat, even though it is not Ra’s light. Bast’s explanation of the sun harkens back to how Carter and Sadie’s mother would explain the science of the stars. Egyptian myth complements science, and the truth of the Earth revolving around the sun rests comfortably around how Ra was able to bring the sun’s power through the Duat and beneath the Earth. Riordan nods here to the ability of two seemingly opposing forces to explain the same phenomenon. The sun doesn’t need to break the laws of the universe for Ra to embody its light.

“As much as I tried, I found it hard to stay angry at the old turkey. It’s a rare thing when an adult admits they are wrong to a child—especially a wise, two-thousand-year-old adult. You rather have to cherish those moments.”

Right before Carter, Bast, and Sadie enter the Lake of Fire, Sadie meets with Iskandar’s ba. Iskandar has just admitted that, despite his age and wisdom, he was wrong to ignore the warnings about chaos from Sadie’s mother. Sadie’s reaction shows how rarely adults admit they are wrong and how special such moments are. Riordan suggests that admitting being wrong is not as difficult as it appears to be. If a 2000-year-old wise aid to the pharaoh can do it, it can be done by the average adult who has not lived so long or accumulated so much knowledge.

“‘The truth is harsh,’ Anubis said. ‘Spirits come to the Hall of Judgment all the time, and they cannot let go of their lies. They deny their faults, their true feelings, their mistakes...right up until Ammit devours their souls for eternity. It takes strength and courage to admit the truth.’”

This passage comes while Carter and Sadie stand in the Hall of Judgment. As a guide to the souls of the dead, Anubis has seen many pass through the hall, and here, he speaks to those who, even in death, cannot see the truth of who they are. Anubis’s observations call to how difficult it is to judge ourselves and how easy it is to cling to beliefs, even ones that are harmful. This suggests the ancient Egyptians valued inner strength overall, as that was what allowed a spirit to pass on to paradise.

“I heard a splash downriver, and turned to see a family of immigrants crossing midstream. I’d heard stories about how thousands of people cross the border from Mexico illegally each year, looking for work and a better life, but it was startling to actually see them in front of me—a man and a woman hurrying along, carrying a little girl between them. They were dressed in ragged clothes and looked poorer than the poorest Egyptian peasants I’d ever seen. I stared at them for a few seconds, but they didn’t appear to be any kind of supernatural threat. The man gave me a wary look and we seemed to come to a silent understanding: we both had enough problems without bothering each other.”

This passage comes while Sadie, Bast, and Carter try to communicate with Nephthys at the Rio Grande. While Carter fights to reach Set and stop chaos from overtaking the world, this family of immigrants is a reminder of the day-to-day struggles people face outside the influence of immortal strife. Carter also sees how good his life has been here. While he’s spent much of it traveling and never settled, he always had what he needed and opportunities to learn and better his situation. Seeing this family searching for a better life shows Carter the privilege he wasn’t aware he had.

“To the south, past miles and miles of desert, steam rose from the Rio Grande—the battle site where Bast and Sobek had perished. Even as tall as I was, I shouldn’t have been able to see all the way to Texas, especially at night, but somehow I could. To the north, even farther away, I saw a distant red glow and I knew it was the aura of Set. His power was growing as his pyramid neared completion.

I looked down. Next to my foot was a tiny cluster of specks--our camp. Miniature Carter, Amos, and Khufu sat talking round the cooking fire. Amos’s boat was no larger than my little toe. My own sleeping form lay curled in a blanket, so small I could’ve crushed myself with one misstep.

I was enormous, and the world was small.

‘That’s how gods see things,’ a voice told me.”

Here, Sadie, Carter, and Amos have stopped for the night after the battle at the Rio Grande. Sadie’s ba has grown to an enormous size while she sleeps, and she is amazed at this perspective on the world. The voice that speaks is Geb, the Earth god. His statement defines Sadie’s current view as how gods always see the world—able to see far past what human senses can show and to feel the currents of order and chaos in the world. This suggests an explanation for how humans and gods view things differently.

‘“It’s about Set.’

‘God,’ I sighed. ‘Not this again. Still suspicious of Amos?’

‘You’re blind not to see it,’ Zia said. ‘Set loves deception and traps. It is his favorite way to kill.’

Part of me knew she had a point. No doubt you’ll think I was foolish not to listen. But have you ever sat by while someone talks badly about a member of your family? Even if it’s not your favorite relative, the natural reaction is to defend them—at least it was for me, possibly because I didn’t have that much family to begin with.”

This conversation between Zia and Sadie is one of several where Zia tries to convince Carter and/or Sadie that Set is using Amos. Here, Sadie doesn’t want to believe it because she has already lost so many family members. The thought of losing Amos, too, is more than she can deal with, showing that there is a limit to the amount of grief a person can handle.

“Set dropped his hand as if bored with the attack. ‘Not much left, I’m afraid. Amos fought well. He was very entertaining, demanding much more of my energy than I had anticipated. That chaos magic—that was his idea. He tried his best to warn you, to make it obvious I was controlling him. The funny thing is, I forced him to use his own magic reserves to pull off those spells. He almost burned out his soul trying to send you those warning flares. Turn you into a storm? Please. Who does that anymore?’”

These lines are spoken by Set and come after he reveals he was controlling Amos. The earlier warnings given to Carter and Sadie about depleting their magic come to fruition here as Amos loses consciousness and barely hangs on to life. Set’s comment about how no one turns people into storms anymore shows how old he is. It also suggests that magic has fads of a sort. Perhaps at one point, turning people into storms was the spell to cast, but it is no longer so. This is one example of Riordan modernizing the gods and their personalities.

“The falcon god and I had been wrestling with each other for days as he tried to take control of my body.

But neither of us could be in control. That was the answer. We had to act in unison, trust each other completely, or we were both dead.

Yes, Horus thought, and he stopped pushing. I stopped resisting, letting our thoughts flow together. I understood his power, his memories, and his fears. I saw every host he had ever been over a thousand lifetimes. And he saw my mind—everything, even the stuff I wasn’t proud of.

It’s hard to describe the feeling. And I knew from Horus’s memory that this kind of union was very rare—like the one time when the coin doesn’t land heads or tails, but stands on its edge, perfectly balanced. He did not control me. I did not use him for power. We acted as one.”

These lines come right before the final confrontation with Set. Carter has a moment of insight regarding his bond with Horus—that he has to work with the god rather than try to fight him for control. This moment calls to the point in the hero’s journey where the hero realizes they must accept the danger and obstacles before them if they are to emerge victorious. The rareness of this type of bond shows how much more powerful Carter is than most magicians.

“‘Sadie,’ he said forlornly, ‘when you become a parent, you may understand this. One of my hardest jobs as a father, one of my greatest duties, was to realize that my own dreams, my own goals and wishes, are secondary to my children’s. Your mother and I have set the stage. But it is your stage. This pyramid is designed to feed chaos. It consumes the power of other gods and makes Set stronger.’”

Here, Sadie talks to her father before she joins Carter to battle Set. Sadie grapples with the decision to save her father or the world, and following this conversation, she chooses the world. Her father describes one of the greatest struggles of being a parent—wanting to make the world a better place for one’s children. Sadie doesn’t quite understand this, but she learns enough to know that saving her father would undo everything he’s worked toward and all the groundwork he laid so Sadie and Carter could continue the fight and protect the world.

“Amos almost smiled when he saw that. Then he sank into a chair on the terrace and stared desolately at the Manhattan skyline.

I began to wonder if he would ever be the same. He’d lost too much weight. His face looked haggard. Most days he wore his bathrobe and didn’t even bother to comb his hair.

‘He was taken over by Set,’ Sadie told me one morning, when I mentioned how worried I was. ‘Do you have any idea how violating that is? His will was broken. He doubts himself and...Well, it may be a long time.’”

This passage comes after the climactic battle with Set. Amos, Carter, and Sadie have returned to rebuild the mansion, and Amos still feels the effects of Set’s possession. Riordan uses the influence of chaos on Amos to suggest a few things about mental health. First, even though Set’s effects were only mental, they took a toll on Amos’s physical wellbeing. Second, Riordan may be pointing to chaos and uncertainty as a proponent of mental illness. When the mind undergoes trauma, it responds by shutting down to protect us from more pain. Amos has undergone a great ordeal and needs time to regain himself and his confidence, which reflects how people need time to recover from poor experiences and treatment.

“‘Carter, when Osiris was alive, he was a great king. But when he died—’

‘He became a thousand times more powerful,’ I said, remembering the story Dad used to tell me.

My father nodded. ‘The Duat is the foundation for the real world. If there is chaos here, it reverberates in the upper world. Helping Osiris to his throne was a first step, a thousand times more important than anything I could’ve done in the world above—except being your father. And I am still your father.’”

This conversation between Carter and his dad occurs in the final chapter when Carter and Sadie learn their father is the new Osiris. The ancient Egyptian and modern worlds fully merge here, showing Carter and Sadie’s family united across the barriers between time, space, and gods and mortals. Though Carter’s father understands the sacrifices he needed to make for the world and how important it was for Osiris to reclaim his throne, he still loves his children and acknowledges how important being their parent is. Julius will not be their parental figure in the traditional sense anymore, but he is confident in their abilities to grow and in the family they’ve found in Amos, Bast, and others.