“We have to stop it!” I insisted. “We have four gods present! Can’t we save the hall?”
Amos furrowed his brow. “The power of Set will not help me in this. He can only destroy, not restore.”
Another column toppled. It broke across the floor, barely missing one of the unconscious rebels.
Walt—who looked quite good in armor, by the way—shook his head. “This is beyond Anubis. I’m sorry.”
The floor rumbled. We had only seconds to live. Then we would be just another bunch of entombed Egyptians.
“Carter?” I asked.
He regarded me helplessly. He was still weak, and I realized his battle magic wouldn’t be much good in this situation.
I sighed. “So it comes down to me, as always. Fine. You three shield the others as best you can. If this doesn’t work, get out quickly.”
“If what doesn’t work?” Amos said, as more chunks of ceiling rained down around us. “Sadie, what are you planning?”
“Just a word, dear uncle.” I raised my staff and called on the power of Isis.
She immediately understood what I needed. Together, we tried to find calm in the Chaos. I focused on the most peaceful, well-ordered moments of my life—and there weren’t many. I remembered my sixth birthday party in Los Angeles with Carter, my dad and mum—the last clear memory I had of all of us together as a family. I imagined listening to music in my room at Brooklyn House while Khufu ate Cheerios on my dresser. I imagined sitting on the terrace with my friends, having a restful breakfast as Philip of Macedonia splashed in his pool. I remembered Sunday afternoons at Gran and Gramps’s flat—Muffin on my lap, Gramps’s rugby game on the telly, and Gran’s horrible biscuits and weak tea on the table. Good times, those were.
Most important, I faced down my own chaos. I accepted my jumbled emotions about whether I belonged in London or New York, whether I was a magician or a schoolgirl. I was Sadie Kane, and if I survived today, I could bloody well balance it all. And, yes, I accepted Walt and Anubis…I gave up my anger and dismay. I imagined both of them with me, and if that was peculiar, well then, it fit right in with the rest of my life. I made peace with the idea. Walt was alive. Anubis was flesh and blood. I stilled my restlessness and let go of my doubts.
“Ma’at,” I said.
I felt as if I’d struck a tuning fork against the foundation of the earth. Deep harmony resonated outward through every level of the Duat.
The Hall of Ages stilled. Columns rose and repaired themselves. The cracks in the ceiling and floor sealed. Holographic curtains of light blazed once again along either side of the hall, and hieroglyphs once more filled the air.
I collapsed into Walt’s arms. Through my fuzzy vision, I saw him smiling down at me. Anubis, too. I could see them both, and I realized I didn’t have to pick.
“Sadie, you did it,” he said. “You’re so amazing.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered. “Good night.”
They tell me I was only out a few seconds, but it felt like centuries. When I came to, the other magicians were back on their feet. Amos smiled down at me. “Up you come, my girl.”
He helped me to my feet. Carter hugged me quite enthusiastically, almost as if he appreciated me properly for once.
“It’s not over,” Carter warned. “We have to get to the surface. Are you ready?”
I nodded, though neither of us was in good shape. We’d used up too much energy in the fight for the Hall of Ages. Even with the gods’ help, we were in no condition to face Apophis. But we had little choice.
“Carter,” Amos said formally, gesturing to the empty throne. “You are blood of the pharaohs, Eye of Horus. You carry the crook and flail, bestowed by Ra. The kingship is yours. Will you lead us, gods and mortals, against the enemy?”
Carter stood straight. I could see the doubt and fear in him, but possibly that was just because I knew him. I’d spoken his secret name. On the outside, he looked confident, strong, adult—even kingly.
[Yes, I said that. Don’t get a big head, brother dear. You’re still a huge dork.]
“I’ll lead you,” Carter said. “But the throne will have to wait. Right now, Ra needs us. We have to get to the surface. Can you show us the quickest way?”
Amos nodded. “And the rest of you?”
The other magicians shouted assent—even the former rebels.
“We aren’t many,” Walt observed. “What are your orders, Carter?”
“First we get reinforcements,” he said. “It’s time I summoned the gods to war.”
19. Welcome to the Fun House of Evil
SADIE SAYS I LOOKED CONFIDENT?
Good one.
Actually, being offered kingship of the universe (or supreme command over gods and magicians, or whatever) pretty much had me shaking in my shoes.
I was grateful that it had happened as we headed into combat, so I didn’t have time to think about it too much or freak out.
Go with it, Horus said. Use my courage.
For once I was glad to let him take the lead. Otherwise when we reached the surface and I saw how bad things were, I would’ve run back inside, screaming like a kindergartner.
(Sadie says that’s not fair. Our kindergartners weren’t screaming. They were more anxious for combat than I was.)
Anyway, our little band of magicians popped out of a secret tunnel halfway up Khafre’s pyramid and stared down at the end of the world.
To say Apophis was huge would be like saying the Titanic took on a little water. Since we’d been underground, the serpent had grown. Now he coiled under the desert for miles, wrapping around the pyramids and tunneling under the outskirts of Cairo, lifting entire neighborhoods like old carpeting.
Only the serpent’s head was above ground, but it rose almost as tall as the pyramids. It was formed of sandstorm and lightning, like Sadie described; and when it fanned out its cobra’s crest, it displayed a blazing hieroglyph no magician would ever write: Isfet, the sign of Chaos:
The four gods battling Apophis looked tiny in comparison. Sobek straddled the serpent’s back, chomping down again and again with his powerful crocodile jaws and smashing away with his staff. His attacks connected, but they didn’t seem to bother Apophis.
Bes danced around in his Speedo, swinging a wooden club and yelling, “Boo!” so loudly, the people in Cairo were probably cowering under the beds. But the giant Chaos snake did not look terrified.
Our cat friend Bast wasn’t having much luck either. She leaped onto the serpent’s head and slashed wildly with her knives, then jumped away before Apophis could shake her off; but the serpent only seemed interested in one target.
Standing in desert between the Great Pyramid and the Sphinx, Zia was surrounded in brilliant golden light. It was hard to look directly at her, but she was shooting fireballs like a Roman candle—each one exploding against the serpent’s body and disrupting his form. The serpent retaliated, biting chunks out of the desert, but he couldn’t seem to find Zia. Her location shifted like a mirage—always several feet away from wherever Apophis struck.
Still, she couldn’t keep this up forever. Looking into the Duat, I could see the four gods’ auras weakening, and Apophis kept getting larger and stronger.
“What do we do?” Jaz asked nervously.
“Wait for my signal,” I said.
“Which is what?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll be back.”
I closed my eyes and sent my ba into the heavens. Suddenly I stood in the throne room of the gods. Stone columns soared overhead. Braziers of magical fire stretched into the distance, their light reflecting on the polished marble floor. In the center of the room, Ra’s sun boat rested on its dais. His throne of fire sat empty.