CHAPTER
20. I Take a Chair
LIKE I SAID, I’M NOT GOOD WITH INCANTATIONS.
Doing one right requires unbroken concentration, correct pronunciation, and perfect timing. Otherwise you’re liable to destroy yourself and everyone within ten feet, or turn yourself into some form of marsupial.
Trying to cast a spell with someone else—that’s doubly hard.
Sure, Sadie and I had studied the words, but it’s not like we could actually do the execration in advance. With a spell like that, you only get one shot.
As we began, I was aware of Bast and Bes battling the serpent, and our other allies locked in combat at different levels of the Duat. The temperature kept dropping. Crevices widened in the ground. Red lightning spread across the sky like cracks in a black dome.
It was hard to keep my teeth from chattering. I concentrated on the stone figurine of Apophis. As we chanted, the statue began to smoke.
I tried not to think about the last time I’d heard this incantation. Michel Desjardins had died casting it, and he had faced only a partial manifestation of the serpent, not Apophis at his full power after triumphantly devouring Ra.
Focus, Horus told me.
Easy for him to say. The noise, cold, and explosions around us made it almost impossible—like trying to count backward from a hundred while people scream random numbers in your ears.
Bast was thrown over our heads and landed against a stone block. Bes roared in anger. He slammed his club into the snake’s neck so hard, Apophis’s eyes rattled in his head.
Apophis snapped at Bes, who grabbed one fang and hung on for dear life as the serpent raised his head and shook his mouth, trying to dislodge the dwarf god.
Sadie and I continued to chant. The serpent’s shadow steamed as the figurine heated up. Gold and blue light swirled around us as Isis and Horus did their best to shield us. Sweat stung my eyes. Despite the frosty air, I began to feel feverish.
When we came to the most important part of the spell—the naming of the enemy—I finally began to sense the true nature of the serpent’s shadow. Funny how that works: sometimes you don’t really understand something until you destroy it. The sheut was more than just a copy or a reflection, more than a “backup disk” for the soul.
A person’s shadow stood for his legacy, his impact on the world. Some people cast hardly any shadow at all. Some cast long, deep shadows that endured for centuries. I thought about what the ghost Setne had said—how he and I had each grown up in the shadow of a famous father. I realized now that he hadn’t just meant it as a figure of speech. My dad cast a powerful shadow that still affected me and the whole world.
If a person cast no shadow at all, he couldn’t be alive. His existence became meaningless. Execrating Apophis by destroying his shadow would cut his connection to the mortal world completely. He’d never be able to rise again. I finally understood why he’d been so anxious to burn Setne’s scrolls, and why he was afraid of this spell.
We reached the last lines. Apophis dislodged Bes from his fang, and the dwarf sailed into the side of the Great Pyramid.
The serpent turned toward us as we spoke the final words: “We exile you beyond the void. You are no more.”
“NO!” Apophis roared.
The statue flared, dissolving in our hands. The shadow disappeared in a puff of vapor, and an explosive wave of darkness knocked us off our feet.
The serpent’s legacy on the earth shattered—the wars, murders, turmoil, and anarchy Apophis had caused since ancient times finally lost power, no longer casting their shadow across our future. Souls of the dead were expelled from the blast—thousands of ghosts that had been trapped and crushed within the shadow of Chaos. A voice whispered in my mind: Carter, and I sobbed with relief. I couldn’t see her, but I knew that our mother was free. Her spirit was returning to its place in the Duat.
“Shortsighted mortals!” Apophis writhed and began to shrink. “You haven’t just killed me. You’ve exiled the gods!”
The Duat collapsed, layer upon layer, until the plains of Giza were one reality again. Our magician friends stood in a daze around us. The gods, however, were nowhere to be seen.
The serpent hissed, his scales falling away in smoking pieces. “Ma’at and Chaos are linked, you fools! You cannot push me away without pushing away the gods. As for Ra, he shall die within me, slowly digested—”
He was cut short (literally) when his head exploded. Yes, it was just as gross as it sounds. Flaming bits of reptile flew everywhere. A ball of fire rolled up from the serpent’s neck. The body of Apophis crumbled into sand and steaming goo, and Zia Rashid stepped out of the wreckage.
Her dress was in tatters. Her golden staff had cracked like a wishbone, but she was alive.
I ran toward her. She stumbled and collapsed against me, completely exhausted.
Then someone else rose from the smoking ruins of Apophis.
Ra shimmered like a mirage, towering over us as a muscular old man with golden skin, kingly robes, and the pharaoh’s crown. He stepped forward and daylight returned to the sky. The temperature warmed. The cracks in the ground sealed themselves.
The sun god smiled down at me. “Well done, Carter and Sadie. Now, I must withdraw as the other gods have done, but I owe you my life.”
“Withdraw?” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was deeper, more gravelly—but it wasn’t Horus’s voice either. The war god seemed to be gone from my mind. “You mean…forever?”
Ra chuckled. “When you’re as old as I am, you learn to be careful with that word forever. I thought I was leaving forever the first time I abdicated. For a while, at least, I must retreat into the sky. My old enemy Apophis was not wrong. When Chaos is pushed away, the gods of order, Ma’at, must also distance themselves. Such is the balance of the universe.”
“Then…you should take these.” Again I offered him the crook and flail.
Ra shook his head. “Keep them for me. You are the rightful pharaoh. And take care of my favored one…” He nodded at Zia. “She will recover, but she will need support.”
Light blazed around the sun god. When it faded, he was gone. Two dozen weary magicians stood around a smoking, serpent-shaped mark in the desert as the sun rose over the pyramids of Giza.
Sadie rested her hand on my arm. “Brother, dear?”
“Yeah?”
“That was a bit too close.”
For once, I had no argument with my sister.
The rest of the day was a blur. I remember helping Zia to the healing rooms of the First Nome. My own broken hand took only minutes to fix, but I stayed with Zia until Jaz told me I needed to go. She and the other healers had dozens of wounded magicians to treat—including the Russian kid Leonid, who, amazingly, was expected to pull through—and while Jaz thought I was very sweet, I was very much in the way.
I wandered through the main cavern and was shocked to see it full of people. Portals around the world had started working again. Magicians were flooding in to help with cleanup and pledge their support to the Chief Lector. Everybody loves to show up at the party once all the hard work is done.
I tried not to feel bitter about it. I knew that many of the other nomes had been fighting their own battles. Apophis had done his best to divide and conquer us. Still, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Many people stared in awe at Ra’s crook and flail, which still hung from my belt. A few people congratulated me and called me a hero. I kept walking.
As I passed the staff vendor’s cart, someone said, “Psssst!”
I glanced toward the nearest alley. The ghost Setne was leaning against the wall. I was so startled, I thought I must be hallucinating. He couldn’t possibly be here, still in his horrible jacket and jewelry and jeans, his Elvis hair perfectly combed, the Book of Thoth tucked under his arm.
“You did good, pal,” he called. “Not the way I would’ve handled it, but not bad.”
Finally I unfroze. “Tas!”
Setne just grinned. “Yeah, we’re done playing that game. But don’t worry, pal. I’ll see you around.”
He disappeared in a puff of smoke.
I’m not sure how long I stood there before Sadie found me.
“All right?” she asked.
I told her what I’d seen. She winced, but didn’t look very surprised. “I suppose we’ll have to deal with that git sooner or later, but for now, you’d best come with me. Amos has called a general assembly in the Hall of Ages.” She slipped her arm through mine. “And try to smile, brother dear. I know it’s hard. But you’re a role model now, as horrifying as I find that.”
I did my best, though it was difficult to put Setne out of my mind.
We passed several of our friends helping with the restoration. Alyssa and a squad of earth elementalists were reinforcing walls and ceilings, trying to make sure the caverns didn’t collapse on us.
Julian was sitting on the steps of the Scrying House, chatting up a few girls from the Scandinavian nome. “Yeah, you know,” he was telling them, “Apophis saw me coming with my big combat avatar, and he pretty much knew it was over.”
Sadie rolled her eyes and pulled me along.
Little Shelby and the other ankle-biters ran up to us, grinning and breathless. They’d helped themselves to some charms from one of the unmanned shopping kiosks, so they looked like they’d just come back from Egyptian Mardi Gras.
“I killed a snake!” Shelby told us. “A big snake!”
“Really?” I asked. “All by yourself?”
“Yes!” Shelby assured me. “Kill, kill, kill!” She stomped her feet, and sparks flew from her shoes. Then she ran off, chasing her friends.
“That girl has a future,” Sadie said. “Reminds me of myself when I was young.”
I shuddered. What a disturbing thought.
Gongs began ringing throughout the tunnels, summoning everyone to the Hall of Ages. By the time we got there, the hall was absolutely jammed with magicians—some in robes, some in modern clothes, some in pajamas like they’d teleported straight from bed. On either side of the carpet, holographic curtains of light shimmered between the columns just as they had before.
Felix ran up to us, all smiles, with a herd of penguins behind him. (Herd? Flock? Gaggle? Oh, whatever.)
“Check it out!” he said happily. “I learned this one during the battle!”
He spoke a command word. At first I thought it was shish kebab, but later he told me it was: “Se-kebeb!”—Make cold.
Hieroglyphs appeared on the floor in frosty white:The chill spread until a twenty-foot-wide section of the floor was coated in thick white ice. The penguins waddled across it, flapping their wings. One unfortunate magician stepped back and slipped so badly, his staff went flying.
Felix pumped his fist. “Yes! I found my path. I’m supposed to follow the god of ice!”
I scratched my head. “There’s a god of ice? Egypt is a desert. Who’s the ice god?”
“I have no idea!” Felix beamed. He slid across the ice and went running off with his penguins.
We made our way down the hall. Magicians were trading stories, mingling, and checking in with old friends. Hieroglyphs floated through the air, brighter and thicker than I’d ever seen, like a rainbow alphabet soup.
Finally the crowd noticed Sadie and me. A hush spread through the room. All eyes turned toward us. The magicians parted, clearing the way to the throne.
Most of the magicians smiled as we walked past. A few whispered thanks and congratulations. Even the former rebel magicians seemed genuinely pleased to see us. But I did catch a few angry looks. No matter that we’d defeated Apophis; some of our fellow magicians would always doubt us. Some would never stop hating us. The Kane family still needed to watch our backs.
Sadie scanned the crowd anxiously. I realized she was looking for Walt. I’d been so focused on Zia, I hadn’t thought about how worried Sadie must be. Walt had disappeared after the battle, along with the rest of the gods. He didn’t seem to be here now.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I told her.
“Shh.” Sadie smiled at me, but her eyes said: If you embarrass me in front of all these people, I will strangle you.
Amos waited for us at the steps of the throne. He’d changed into a crimson suit that went surprisingly well with his leopard-skin cape. His hair was braided with garnets, and his glasses were tinted red. The color of Chaos? I got the feeling he was playing up his connection to Set—which all the other magicians had definitely heard about by now.
For the first time in history, our Chief Lector had the god of evil, strength, and Chaos on speed dial. That might make people trust him less, but magicians were like the gods—they respected strength. I doubted Amos would have much trouble enforcing his rule anymore.
He smiled as we approached. “Carter and Sadie, on behalf of the House of Life, I thank you. You have restored Ma’at! Apophis has been execrated, and Ra has once again risen into the heavens, but this time in triumph. Well done!”
The hall erupted in cheering and applause. Dozens of magicians raised their staffs and sent up miniature firework displays.
Amos embraced us. Then he stepped aside and gestured me toward the throne. I hoped that Horus might give me some words of encouragement, but I couldn’t feel his presence at all.
I tried to control my breathing. That chair had been empty for thousands of years. How could I be sure it would even hold my weight? If the throne of the pharaohs broke under my royal butt, that would be a great omen.
Sadie nudged me. “Go on, then. Don’t be stupid.”
I climbed the steps and eased myself onto the throne. The old chair creaked, but it held me.
I gazed out over the crowd of magicians.
Horus wasn’t there for me. But somehow, that was okay. I glanced over at the shimmering curtains of light—the New Age, glowing purple—and I had a feeling it was going to be an age of good things, after all.
My muscles began to relax. I felt like I’d stepped out of the war god’s shadow, just as I’d stepped out of my father’s. I found the words.
“I accept the throne.” I held up the crook and flail. “Ra has given me authority to lead the gods and magicians in times of crisis, and I’ll do my best. Apophis has been banished, but the Sea of Chaos is always there. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Its forces will always try to erode Ma’at. We can’t think that all our enemies are gone.”
The crowd stirred nervously.
“But for now,” I added, “we are at peace. We can rebuild and expand the House of Life. If war comes again, I’ll be here as the Eye of Horus and as pharaoh. But as Carter Kane…”
I rose and placed the crook and flail on the throne. I stepped down from the dais. “As Carter Kane, I’m a kid who has a lot of catching up to do. I’ve got my own nome to run at Brooklyn House. And I’ve got to graduate from high school. So I’m going to leave day-to-day operations where they should be—in the hands of the Chief Lector, steward of the pharaoh, Amos Kane.”
Amos bowed to me, which felt a little strange. The crowd applauded wildly. I wasn’t sure if they approved of me, or if they were just relieved that a kid wasn’t going to be giving them daily orders from the throne. Either way, I was okay with it.
Amos embraced Sadie and me again.
“I’m proud of you both,” he said. “We’ll speak soon, but right now, come…” He gestured to the side of the dais, where a door of darkness had opened in the air. “Your parents would like to see you.”
Sadie looked at me nervously. “Uh-oh.”
I nodded. Strange how I went instantly from the pharaoh of the universe to a kid worried about getting grounded. As much as I wanted to see my parents, I’d broken an important promise to my father…I’d lost track of a dangerous prisoner.
The Hall of Judgment had turned into Party Central. Ammit the Devourer ran around the scales of justice, yapping excitedly with a birthday hat on his crocodile head. The guillotine-headed demons lounged on their pole arms, holding glasses of what looked like champagne. I didn’t know how they could drink with those guillotine heads, but I didn’t want to find out. Even the blue judgment god Disturber seemed to be in a good mood. His Cleopatra wig was sideways on his head. His long scroll had unraveled halfway across the room, but he was laughing and talking with the other judgment gods who had been rescued from the House of Rest. Fire-embracer and Hot Foot kept dropping cinders on his papyrus, but Disturber didn’t seem to notice or care.
At the far end of the room, Dad sat on his throne, holding hands with our ghostly mom. To the left of the dais, spirits from the Underworld played in a jazz ensemble. I was pretty sure I recognized Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and a few of my dad’s other favorites. Being the god of the Underworld has its perks.
Dad beckoned us forward. He didn’t look mad, which was a good sign. We made our way through the crowd of happy demons and judgment gods. Ammit yapped at Sadie and purred as she scratched under his chin.
“Children.” Dad held out his arms.
It felt strange being called children. I didn’t feel like a child anymore. Children weren’t asked to fight Chaos serpents. They didn’t lead armies to stop the end of the world.
Sadie and I both hugged our dad. I couldn’t hug Mom, of course, since she was a ghost, but I was happy enough to see her safe. Except for the glowing aura around her, she looked just like she did when she was alive—dressed in jeans and her ankh T-shirt, her blond hair gathered back in a bandana. If I didn’t look directly at her, I could have almost mistaken her for Sadie.
“Mom, you survived,” I said. “How—?”
“All thanks to you two.” Mom’s eyes sparkled. “I held on as long as I could, but the shadow was too powerful. I was consumed, along with so many other spirits. If you hadn’t destroyed the sheut when you did and released us, I would’ve been…well, it doesn’t matter now. You’ve done the impossible. We are so proud.”
“Yes,” Dad agreed, squeezing my shoulder. “Everything we’ve worked for, everything we’ve hoped for—you have accomplished. You’ve exceeded my highest expectations.”
I hesitated. Was it possible he didn’t know about Setne?
“Dad,” I said, “um…we didn’t succeed at everything. We lost your prisoner. I still don’t understand how he escaped. He was tied up and—”
Dad raised his hand to stop me. “I heard. We may never know how Setne escaped exactly, but you can’t blame yourselves.”
“We can’t?” Sadie asked.
“Setne has evaded capture for eons,” Dad said. “He’s outwitted gods, magicians, mortals, and demons. When I let you take him, I suspected he would find a way to escape. I just hoped you could control him long enough to get his help. And you did.”
“He got us to the shadow,” I admitted. “But he also stole the Book of Thoth.”
Sadie bit her lip. “Dangerous stuff, that book. Setne may not be able to cast all the spells himself, being a ghost, but he could still cause all sorts of mischief.”
“We will find him again,” Dad promised. “But for now, let’s celebrate your victory.”
Our mom reached out and brushed her ghostly hand through Sadie’s hair. “May I borrow you a moment, my dear? I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
I wasn’t sure what that was about, but Sadie followed our mom toward the jazz band. I hadn’t noticed before, but two of the ghostly musicians looked very familiar, and rather out of place. A big redheaded man in Western clothes sat at a steel guitar, grinning and tapping his boots as he traded solos with Miles Davis. Next to him, a pretty blond woman played the fiddle, leaning down from time to time to kiss the redheaded man on the forehead. JD Grissom and his wife, Anne, from the Dallas Museum, had finally found a party that didn’t have to end. I’d never heard steel guitar and fiddle with a jazz band before, but somehow they made it work. I suppose Amos was right: music and magic both needed a little chaos within the order.
As Mom and Sadie talked, Sadie’s eyes widened. Her expression turned serious. Then she smiled shyly and blushed, which wasn’t like Sadie at all.
“Carter,” my dad said, “you did well in the Hall of Ages. You will make a good leader. A wise leader.”
I wasn’t sure how he knew about my speech, but a lump formed in my throat. My dad doesn’t hand out compliments lightly. Being with him again, I remembered how much easier life had been, traveling with him. He’d always known what to do. I could always count on his calming presence. Until that Christmas Eve in London when he had disappeared, I hadn’t appreciated just how much I had relied on him.
“I know it’s been hard,” Dad said, “but you will lead the Kane family into the future. You have truly stepped out of my shadow.”
“Not completely,” I said. “I wouldn’t want that. As dads go, you’re pretty, um, shadowy.”
He laughed. “I’ll be here if you need me. Never doubt that. But, as Ra said, the gods will have a harder time contacting the mortal world, now that Apophis has been execrated. As Chaos retreats, so must Ma’at. Nevertheless, I don’t think you’ll need much help. You’ve succeeded on your own strength. Now you are the one casting the long shadow. The House of Life will remember you for ages to come.”
He hugged me once more, and it was easy to forget that he was the god of the dead. He just seemed like my dad—warm and alive and strong.
Sadie came over, looking a little shaken.
“What?” I asked.
She giggled for no apparent reason, then got serious again. “Nothing.”
Mom drifted next to her. “Off you go, you two. Brooklyn House is waiting.”
Another door of darkness appeared by the throne. Sadie and I stepped through. For once I wasn’t worried about what waited on the other side. I knew we were going home.
Life got back to normal with surprising speed.
I’ll let Sadie tell you about the events at Brooklyn House and her own drama. I’ll fast-forward to the interesting stuff.
[Ouch! I thought we agreed: no pinching!]
Two weeks after the battle with Apophis, Zia and I were sitting in the food court at the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota.
Why there? I’d heard the Mall of America was the biggest in the country, and I figured we’d start big. It was an easy trip through the Duat. Freak was happy to sit on the roof and eat frozen turkeys while Zia and I explored the mall.
[That’s right, Sadie. For our first real date, I picked up Zia in a boat pulled by a deranged griffin. So what? Like your dates aren’t weird?]
Anyway, when we got to the food court, Zia’s jaw dropped. “Gods of Egypt…”
The restaurant choices were pretty overwhelming. Since we couldn’t decide, we got a little of everything: Chinese, Mexican (the Macho Nachos), pizza, and ice cream—the four basic food groups. We grabbed a table overlooking the amusement park at the center of the mall.
A lot of other kids were hanging out in the food court. Many of them stared at us. Well…not at me. They were mostly looking at Zia and no doubt wondering what a girl like her was doing with a guy like me.
She’d healed up nicely since the battle. She wore a simple sleeveless dress of beige linen and black sandals—no makeup, no jewelry except for her gold scarab necklace. She looked way more glamorous and mature than the other girls in the mall.
Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, except for a little strand that curled behind her right ear. She’d always had luminous amber eyes and warm coffee-and-milk skin, but since hosting Ra, she seemed to glow even more. I could feel her warmth from across the table.
She smiled at me over her bowl of chow mein. “So, this is what typical American teenagers do?”
“Well…sort of,” I said. “Though I don’t think either of us will ever pass for typical.”
“I hope not.”
I had trouble thinking straight when I looked at her. If she’d asked me to jump over the railing, I probably would’ve done it.
Zia twirled her fork through her noodles. “Carter, we haven’t talked much about…you know, my being the Eye of Ra. I can guess how strange that was for you.”
See? Just your typical teenage conversation in the mall.
“Hey, I understand,” I said. “It wasn’t strange.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, it was strange,” I admitted. “But Ra needed your help. You were amazing. Have you, uh, talked to him since…?”
She shook her head. “He’s retreated from the world, just like he said. I doubt I’ll be the Eye of Ra again—unless we face another Doomsday.”
“So, with our luck, not for a few more weeks, you mean.”
Zia laughed. I loved her laugh. I loved that little curl of hair behind her ear.
(Sadie says I’m being ridiculous. Like she’s one to talk.)
“I had a meeting with your Uncle Amos,” Zia said. “He has lots of help at the First Nome now. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time away, try to live a more…typical life.”
My heart tripped and stumbled straight into my ribs. “You mean, like, leave Egypt?”
Zia nodded. “Your sister suggested I stay at Brooklyn House, attend American school. She says…how did she put it? Americans are an odd bunch, but they grow on you.”
Zia scooted around the table and took my hand. I sensed about twenty jealous guys glaring at me from the other tables of the food court.
“Would you mind if I stayed in Brooklyn House? I could help teach the initiates. But if that would make you uncomfortable—”
“No!” I said much too loudly. “I mean, no, I don’t mind. Yes, I’d like that. A lot. Quite a bit. Totally fine.”
Zia smiled. The temperature in the food court seemed to go up another ten degrees. “So that’s a yes?”
“Yes. I mean, unless it would make you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want to make things awkward or—”
“Carter?” she said gently. “Shut up.”
She leaned over and kissed me.
I did as she commanded, no magic necessary. I shut up.
SADIE
21. The Gods Are Sorted; My Feelings Are Not
AH, MY THREE FAVORITE WORDS: Carter, shut up.
Zia really has come a long way since we first met. I think there’s hope for her, even if she does fancy my brother.
At any rate, Carter has wisely left the last bit of the story for me to tell.
After the battle with Apophis, I felt horrible on many levels. Physically, I was knackered. Magically, I’d used up every last bit of energy. I was afraid I might have permanently damaged myself, as I had a smoldering feeling behind my sternum that was either my exhausted magic reservoir or very bad heartburn.
Emotionally, I wasn’t much better. I had watched Carter embrace Zia when she emerged from the steaming goo of the serpent, which was all very well, but it only reminded me of my own turmoil.
Where was Walt? (I’d decided to call him that, or I would drive myself crazy figuring out his identity.) He had been standing nearby just after the battle. Now he was gone.
Had he left with the other gods? I was already worried about Bes and Bast. It wasn’t like them to disappear without saying good-bye. And I wasn’t keen on what Ra had said about the gods leaving the earth for a while.
You cannot push me away without pushing away the gods, Apophis had warned.
The bloody serpent might have mentioned that before we execrated him. I had just made my peace with the whole Walt/Anubis idea—or mostly, at any rate—and now Walt had vanished. If he’d been declared off-limits again, I was going to crawl into a sarcophagus and never come out.
While Carter was with Zia in the infirmary, I wandered the corridors of the First Nome, but found no sign of Walt. I tried to contact him with the shen amulet. No answer. I even tried to contact Isis for advice, but the goddess had gone silent. I didn’t like that.
So, yes, I was quite distracted in the Hall of Ages during Carter’s little acceptance speech: I’d like to thank all the little people for making me pharaoh, et cetera, et cetera.
I was glad to visit the Underworld and be reunited with my mum and dad. At least they weren’t off-limits. But I was quite disappointed not to find Walt there. Even if he wasn’t allowed in the mortal world, shouldn’t he be in the Hall of Judgment, taking over the duties of Anubis?
That’s when my mother pulled me aside. (Not literally, of course. Being a ghost, she couldn’t pull me anywhere.) We stood to the left of the dais where the dead musicians played lively music. JD Grissom and his wife, Anne, smiled at me. They seemed happy, and I was glad for that, but I still had trouble seeing them without feeling guilty.
My mum tugged at her necklace—a ghostly replica of my own tyet amulet. “Sadie…we’ve never gotten to talk much, you and I.”
Bit of an understatement, since she died when I was six. I understood what she meant, though. Even after our reunion last spring, she and I had never really chatted. Visiting her in the Duat was rather hard, and ghosts don’t have e-mail or Skype or mobile phones. Even if they had had a proper Internet connection, “friending” my dead mother on Facebook would have felt rather odd.
I didn’t say any of that. I just nodded.
“You’ve grown strong, Sadie,” Mum said. “You’ve had to be brave for so long, it must be hard for you to let your defenses down. You’re afraid to lose any more people you care about.”
I felt lightheaded, as if I were turning into a ghost, too. Had I become see-through, like my mother? I wanted to argue and protest and joke. I didn’t want to hear my mother’s commentary, especially when it was so accurate.
At the same time, I was so mixed up inside about Walt, so worried about what had happened to him, I wanted to break down and cry on my mother’s shoulder. I wanted her to hug me and tell me it was all right. Unfortunately, one can’t cry on the shoulder of a ghost.
“I know,” Mum said sadly, as if reading my thoughts. “I wasn’t there for you when you were small. And your father…well, he had to leave you with Gran and Gramps. They tried to provide you with a normal life, but you’re so much more than normal, aren’t you? And now here you are, a young woman.…” She sighed. “I’ve missed so much of your life, I don’t know if you’ll want my advice now. But for what it’s worth: trust your feelings. I can’t promise that you’ll never get hurt again, but I can promise you the risk is worth it.”
I studied her face, unchanged since the day she had died: her wispy blond hair, her blue eyes, the rather mischievous curve of her eyebrows. Many times, I’d been told that I looked like her. Now I could see it clearly. As I’d got older, it was quite striking how much our faces looked alike. Put some purple highlights in her hair, and Mum would’ve made an excellent Sadie stunt double.
“You’re talking about Walt,” I said at last. “This is a heart-to-heart chat about boys?”
Mum winced. “Yes, well…I’m afraid I’m rubbish at this. But I had to try. When I was a girl, Gran wasn’t much of a resource for me. I never felt I could talk to her.”
“I should think not.” I tried to imagine talking about guys with my grandmother while Gramps yelled at the telly and called for more tea and burnt biscuits.
“I think,” I ventured, “that mothers normally warn against following one’s heart, getting involved with the wrong sort of boy, getting a bad reputation. That sort of thing.”
“Ah.” Mum nodded contritely. “Well, you see, I can’t do that. I suppose I’m not worried about you doing the wrong thing, Sadie. I am worried that you might be afraid to trust someone—even the right someone. It’s your heart, of course. Not mine. But I’d say Walt is more nervous than you are. Don’t be too hard on him.”
“Hard on him?” I almost laughed. “I don’t even know where he is! And he’s hosting a god who—who—”
“Whom you also like,” Mum supplied. “And that’s confusing, yes. But they are really one person, now. Anubis has so much in common with Walt. Neither has ever had a real life to look forward to. Now, together, they do.”
“You mean…” The horrible burning sensation behind my sternum began to ease, ever so slightly. “You mean I will see him again? He’s not exiled, or whatever nonsense the gods are going on about?”
“You will see him,” my mother affirmed. “Because they are one, inhabiting a single mortal body, they may walk the earth, as the Ancient Egyptian god-kings did. Walt and Anubis are both good young men. They are both nervous, and quite awkward in the mortal world, and scared about how people will treat them. And they both feel the same way about you.”
I was probably blushing terribly. Carter stared at me from the top of the dais, no doubt wondering what was wrong. I didn’t trust myself to meet his eyes. He was a bit too good at reading my expression.
“It’s so bloody hard,” I complained.
Mother laughed softly. “Yes, it is. But if it’s any consolation…dealing with any man means dealing with multiple personalities.”
I glanced up at my father, who was flickering back and forth between Dr. Julius Kane and Osiris, the Smurf-blue god of the Underworld.
“I take your point,” I said. “But where is Anubis? I mean Walt. Ugh! There I go again.”
“You will see him soon,” Mum promised. “I wanted you to be prepared.”
My mind said: This is too confusing, too unfair. I can’t handle a relationship like this.
But my heart said: Shut up! Yes, I can!
“Thanks, Mum,” I said, no doubt failing miserably to look calm and collected. “This business with the gods pulling away. Does that mean we won’t see you and Dad as much?”
“Probably,” she admitted. “But you know what to do. Keep teaching the path of the gods. Bring the House of Life back to its former glory. You and Carter and Amos will make Egyptian magic stronger than ever. And that’s good…because your challenges are not over.”
“Setne?” I guessed.
“Yes, him,” Mum said. “But there are other challenges as well. I haven’t completely lost the gift of prophecy, even in death. I see murky visions of other gods and rival magic.”
That really didn’t sound good.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “What other gods?”
“I don’t know, Sadie. But Egypt has always faced challenges from outside—magicians from elsewhere, even gods from elsewhere. Just be vigilant.”
“Lovely,” I muttered. “I preferred talking about boys.”
Mother laughed. “Once you return to the mortal world, there will be one more portal. Look for it tonight. Some old friends of yours would like a word.”
I had a feeling I knew whom she meant.
She touched a ghostly pendant around her neck—the tyet symbol of Isis.
“If you need me,” Mum said, “use your necklace. It will call to me, just as the shen necklace calls to Walt.”
“That would’ve been handy to know sooner.”
“Our connection wasn’t strong enough before. Now…I think it is.” She kissed my forehead, though it felt like only a faint cool breeze. “I’m proud of you, Sadie. You have your whole life ahead of you. Make the most of it!”
That night at Brooklyn House, a swirling sand portal opened on the terrace, just as my mother had promised.
“That’s for us,” I said, getting up from the dinner table. “Come on, brother, dear.”
On the other side of the portal, we found ourselves at the beach by the Lake of Fire. Bast was waiting, tossing a ball of yarn from hand to hand. Her pure black bodysuit matched her hair. Her feline eyes danced in the red light of the waves.
“They’re waiting for you.” She pointed up the steps to the House of Rest. “We’ll talk when you come back down.”
I didn’t need to ask why she wasn’t coming. I heard the melancholy in her voice. She and Tawaret had never got along because of Bes. Obviously, Bast wanted to give the hippo goddess some space. But also, I wondered if my old friend was starting to realize that she’d let a good man get away.
I kissed her on the cheek. Then Carter and I climbed the stairs.
Inside the nursing home, the atmosphere was festive. Fresh flowers decorated the nurses’ station. Heket the frog goddess walked upside down along the ceiling, hanging party streamers, while a group of elderly dog-headed gods danced and sang the hokey-pokey—a very slow version, but still impressive. You put your walker in / you put your IV out—and so forth. The ancient lion-headed goddess Mekhit was slow-dancing with a tall male god. She purred loudly with her head on his shoulder.
“Carter, look,” I said. “Is that—?”
“Onuris!” Tawaret answered, trotting over in her nurse’s outfit. “Mekhit’s husband! Isn’t it wonderful? We were sure he’d faded ages ago, but when Bes called the old gods to war, Onuris came tottering out of a supply closet. Many others appeared too. They were finally needed, you see! The war gave them a reason to exist.”
The hippo goddess crushed us in an enthusiastic hug. “Oh, my dears! Just look how happy everyone is! You’ve given them new life.”
“I don’t see as many as before,” Carter noticed.
“Some went back to the heavens,” Tawaret said. “Or off to their old temples and palaces. And, of course, your dear father, Osiris, took the judgment gods back to his throne room.”
Seeing the old gods so happy warmed my heart, but I still felt a twinge of worry. “Will they stay this way? I mean, they won’t fade again?”
Tawaret spread her stubby hands. “I suppose that depends on you mortals. If you remember them and make them feel important, they should be fine. But come, you’ll want to see Bes!”
He sat in his usual chair, staring blankly out the window at the Lake of Fire. The scene was so familiar, I feared he’d lost his ren again.
“Is he all right?” I cried, running up to him. “What’s wrong with him?”
Bes turned, looking startled. “Besides being ugly? Nothing, kid. I was just thinking—sorry.”
He rose (as much as a dwarf can rise) and hugged us both.
“Glad you kids could make it,” Bes said. “You know Tawaret and I are going to build a home on the lakeside. I’ve gotten used to this view. She’ll keep working at the House of Rest. I’ll be a house dwarf for a while. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get some little dwarf hippo babies to look after!”
“Oh, Bes!” Tawaret blushed fiercely and batted her hippo eyelids.
The dwarf god chuckled. “Yeah, life is good. But if you kids need me, just holler. I’ve always had more luck coming to the mortal world than most gods.”
Carter scowled fretfully. “Do you think we’ll need you a lot? I mean, of course we want to see you! I just wondered—”
Bes grunted. “Hey, I’m an ugly dwarf. I’ve got a sweet car, an excellent wardrobe, and amazing powers. Why wouldn’t you need me?”
“Good point,” Carter agreed.
“But, uh, don’t call too often,” Bes said. “After all, my honeycakes and I got a few millennia of quality time to catch up on.”
He took Tawaret’s hand, and for once I didn’t find the name of this place—Sunny Acres—quite so depressing.
“Thank you for everything, Bes,” I said.
“Are you kidding?” he said. “You gave me my life back, and I don’t just mean my shadow.”
I got the distinct feeling the two gods wanted some time by themselves, so we said our good-byes and headed down the steps to the lake.
The white sand portal was still swirling. Bast stood next to it, engrossed in her ball of yarn. She laced it between her fingers to make a rectangle like a cat’s cradle. (No, I didn’t mean that as a pun, but it did seem appropriate.)
“Having fun?” I asked.
“Thought you’d want to see this.” She held up the cat’s cradle. A video image flickered across its surface like on a computer screen.
I saw the Hall of the Gods with its soaring columns and polished floors, its braziers burning with a hundred multicolored fires. On the central dais, the sun boat had been replaced with a golden throne. Horus sat there in his human form—a bald muscular teen in full battle armor. He held a crook and flail across his lap, and his eyes gleamed—one silver, one gold. At his right stood Isis, smiling proudly, her rainbow wings shimmering. On his left stood Set, the red-skinned Chaos god with his iron staff. He looked quite amused, as if he had all sorts of wicked things planned for later. The other gods knelt as Horus addressed them. I scanned the crowd for Anubis—with or without Walt—but again, I didn’t see him.
I couldn’t hear the words, but I reckoned it was a similar speech to the one Carter had delivered to the House of Life.
“He’s doing the same thing I did,” Carter protested. “I bet he even stole my speech. That copycat!”
Bast clucked disapprovingly. “No need to call names, Carter. Cats are not copiers. We are all unique. But, yes, what you do as pharaoh in the mortal world will often be mirrored in the world of the gods. Horus and you, after all, rule the forces of Egypt.”
“That,” I said, “is a truly scary thought.”
Carter swatted me lightly on the arm. “I just can’t believe that Horus left without even a good-bye. It’s as if he tossed me aside as soon as he was done using me, and then forgot about me.”
“Oh, no,” Bast said. “Gods wouldn’t do that. He simply had to leave.”
But I wondered. Gods were rather selfish creatures, even those who weren’t cats. Isis hadn’t given me a proper good-bye or thank-you either.
“Bast, you’re coming with us, aren’t you?” I pleaded. “I mean, this silly exile can’t apply to you! We need our nap instructor at Brooklyn House.”
Bast wadded up her ball of yarn and tossed it down the steps. Her expression was quite sad for a feline. “Oh, my kittens. If I could, I would pick you up by the scruffs of your necks and carry you forever. But you’ve grown. Your claws are sharp, your eyesight is keen, and cats must make their own way in the world. I must say farewell for now, though I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
I wanted to protest that I hadn’t grown up and I didn’t even have claws.
(Carter disagrees, but what does he know?)
But part of me knew Bast was right. We’d been lucky to have her with us for so long. Now we had to be adult cats—er, humans.
“Oh, Muffin…” I hugged her fiercely, and could feel her purring.
She ruffled my hair. Then she rubbed Carter’s ears, which was quite funny.
“Go on, now,” she said. “Before I start to mewl. Besides…” She fixed her eyes on the ball of yarn, which had rolled to the bottom of the steps. She crouched and tensed her shoulders. “I have some hunting to do.”
“We’ll miss you, Bast,” I said, trying not to cry. “Good hunting.”
“Yarn,” she said absently, creeping down the steps. “Dangerous prey, yarn…”
Carter and I stepped through the portal. This time it deposited us onto the roof of Brooklyn House.
We had one more surprise. Standing by Freak’s roost, Walt was waiting. He smiled when he saw me, and my legs felt wobbly.
“I’ll, um, be inside,” Carter said.
Walt walked over, and I tried to remember how to breathe.
SADIE
22. The Last Waltz (for Now)
HE’D CHANGED HIS LOOK AGAIN.
His amulets were gone except for one—the shen that matched mine. He wore a black muscle shirt, black jeans, a black leather duster, and black combat boots—a sort of mix of Anubis’s and Walt’s styles, but it made him look like someone entirely different and new. Yet his eyes were quite familiar—warm, dark brown, and lovely. When he smiled, my heart fluttered as it always had.
“So,” I said, “is this another good-bye? I’ve had quite enough good-byes today.”
“Actually,” Walt said, “it’s more of a hello. My name’s Walt Stone, from Seattle. I’d like to join the party.”
He held out his hand, still smiling slyly. He was repeating exactly what he’d said the first time we met, when he arrived at Brooklyn House last spring.
Instead of taking his hand, I punched him in the chest.
“Ow,” he complained. But I doubt that I’d hurt him. He had quite a solid chest.
“You think you can just merge with a god and surprise me like that?” I demanded. “Oh, by the way, I’m actually two minds in one body. I don’t appreciate being taken off guard.”
“I did try to tell you,” he said. “Several times. Anubis did too. We kept getting interrupted. Mostly by you talking a lot.”
“No excuse.” I folded my arms and scowled as best I could. “My mum seems to think I should go easy on you because this is all very new to you. But I’m still cross. It’s confusing enough, you know, liking someone, without their morphing into a god whom I also like.”
“So you do like me.”
“Stop trying to distract me! Are you truly asking to stay here?”
Walt nodded. He was very close now. He smelled good, like vanilla candles. I tried to remember if that was Walt’s scent or Anubis’s. Honestly, I couldn’t recall.
“I’ve still got a lot to learn,” he said. “I don’t need to stick with charm-making anymore. I can do more intensive magic—the path of Anubis. No one’s ever done that before.”
“Discovering new magical ways to annoy me?”
He tilted his head. “I could do amazing tricks with mummy linen. For instance, if someone talks too much, I could summon a gag—”
“Don’t you dare!”
He took my hand. I gave him a defiant scowl, but I didn’t take back my hand.
“I’m still Walt,” he said. “I’m still mortal. Anubis can stay in this world as long as I’m his host. I’m hoping to live a good long life. Neither of us ever thought that was possible. So I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to leave.”
My eyes probably answered for me: No, please. Not ever. But I couldn’t very well give him the satisfaction of my saying that out loud, could I? Boys can get so full of themselves.
“Well,” I grumbled, “I suppose I could tolerate it.”
“I owe you a dance.” Walt put his other hand on my waist—a traditional pose, very old-fashioned, as Anubis had done when we waltzed at the Brooklyn Academy. My Gran would’ve approved.
“May I?” he asked.
“Here?” I said. “Won’t your chaperone Shu interrupt?”
“Like I said, I’m mortal now. He’ll let us dance, though I’m sure he’s keeping an eye on us to make sure we behave.”
“To make sure you behave,” I snipped. “I’m a proper young lady.”
Walt laughed. I supposed it was funny. Proper wasn’t the first word normally used to describe me.
I pounded his chest again, though I’ll admit not very hard. I put my hand on his shoulder.
“I’ll have you remember,” I warned, “that my father is your employer in the Underworld. You’d best mind your manners.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Walt said. He leaned down and kissed me. All my anger melted into my shoes.
We started to dance. There was no music, no ghostly dancers, no floating on air—nothing magic about it. Freak watched us curiously, no doubt wondering how this activity was going to produce turkeys to feed the griffin. The old tar roof creaked under our feet. I was still quite tired from our long battle, and I hadn’t cleaned up properly. No doubt I looked horrid. I wanted to melt into Walt’s arms, which is basically what I did.
“So you’ll let me stick around?” he asked, his breath warm on my scalp. “Let me experience a typical teenage life?”
“I suppose.” I looked up at him. It took no effort at all to slip my vision into the Duat and see Anubis there, just under the surface. But it really wasn’t necessary. This was a new boy in front of me, and he was everything I liked. “Not that I’m an expert myself, but there is one rule I insist on.”
“Yes?”
“If anyone asks you if you’re taken,” I said, “the answer is yes.”
“I think I can live with that,” he promised.
“Good,” I said. “Because you don’t want to see me be cross.”
“Too late.”
“Shut up and dance, Walt.”
We did—with the music of a psychotic griffin screaming behind us, and the sirens and horns of Brooklyn wailing below. It was quite romantic.
So there you have it.
We’ve returned to Brooklyn House. The various catastrophes plaguing the world have lessened—at least somewhat—and we are dealing with an influx of new initiates as the school year gets properly under way.
It should be obvious now why this may be our last recording. We’re going to be so busy training and attending school and living our lives, I doubt we’ll have time or reason to send out any more audio pleas for help.
We’ll put this tape in a secure box and send it along to the chap who’s been transcribing our adventures. Carter seems to think the postal service will do, but I think I’ll give it to Khufu to carry through the Duat. What could possibly go wrong?
As for us, don’t think our lives will be all fun and games. Amos couldn’t leave a mob of teens unsupervised, and as we don’t have Bast anymore, Amos has sent a few adult magicians to Brooklyn House as teachers (read: chaperones). But we all know who’s really in charge—me. Oh, yes, and perhaps Carter a little bit.
We’re not done with trouble, either. I’m still worried about that murderous ghost Setne, who’s on the loose in the world with his devious mind, horrible fashion sense, and the Book of Thoth. I’m also puzzling over my mother’s comments about rival magic and other gods. No idea what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.
In the meantime, there are still hotspots of evil magic and demon activity all over the world that we have to take care of. We’ve even got reports of unexplainable magic as close as Long Island. Probably have to check that out.
But for now, I plan on enjoying my life, annoying my brother as much as possible, and making Walt into a proper boyfriend while keeping the other girls away from him—most likely with a flamethrower. My work is never done.
As for you lot out there, listening to this recording—we’re never too busy for new initiates. If you have the blood of the pharaohs, what are you waiting for? Don’t let your magic go to waste. Brooklyn House is open for business.