“Go to the gate,” I told Bast. “Take Sadie. I’ll meet you there.”
“What? Carter—”
“Go!” I imagined opening my invisible locker: 13/32/33. I reached out my hand, but not for my dad’s magic box. I concentrated on something I’d lost in Luxor. It had to be there. For a moment, I felt nothing. Then my hand closed around a hard leather grip, and I pulled my sword out of nowhere.
Bast’s eyes widened. “Impressive.”
“Get moving,” I said. “It’s my turn to run interference.”
“You realize it’ll kill you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. Now, scat!”
Bast took off at top speed, Sadie flapping to stay balanced on her arm.
A shot rang out. I turned and saw the Set animal plow into a cop who’d just fired at its head to no effect. The poor cop flew backward and toppled over the metal detector gate.
“Hey, moose!” I screamed.
The Set animal locked its glowing eyes on me.
Well done! Horus said. We will die with honor!
Shut up, I thought.
I glanced behind me to make sure Bast and Sadie were out of sight. Then I approached the creature.
“So you’ve got no name?” I asked. “They couldn’t think of one ugly enough?”
The creature snarled, stepping over the unconscious policeman.
“Set animal is too hard to say,” I decided. “I’ll call you Leroy.”
Apparently, Leroy didn’t like his name. He lunged.
I dodged his claws and managed to smack him in the snout with the flat of my blade, but that barely fazed him. Leroy backed up and charged again, slavering, baring his fangs. I slashed at his neck, but Leroy was too smart. He darted to the left and sank his teeth into my free arm. If it hadn’t been for my makeshift leather armguard, I would’ve been minus one arm. As it was, Leroy’s fangs still bit clear through the leather. Red-hot pain shot up my arm.
I yelled, and a primal surge of power coursed through my body. I felt myself rising off the ground and the golden aura of the hawk warrior forming around me. The Set animal’s jaws were pried open so fast that it yelped and let go of my arm. I stood, now encased in a magical barrier twice my normal size, and kicked Leroy into the wall.
Good! said Horus. Now dispatch the beast to the netherworld!
Quiet, man. I’m doing all the work.
I was vaguely aware of security guards trying to regroup, yelling into their walkie-talkies and calling for help. Travelers were still screaming and running around. I heard a little girl shout: “Chicken man, get the moose!”
You know how hard it is to feel like an extreme falcon-headed combat machine when somebody calls you “chicken man”?
I raised my sword, which was now at the center of a ten-foot-long energy blade.
Leroy shook the dust off his cone-shaped ears, and came at me again. My armored form might’ve been powerful, but it was also clumsy and slow; moving it around felt like moving through Jell-O. Leroy dodged my sword strike and landed on my chest, knocking me down. He was a lot heavier than he looked. His tail and claws raked against my armor. I caught his neck in my glowing fists and tried to keep his fangs away from my face, but everywhere he drooled, my magical shield hissed and steamed. I could feel my wounded arm going numb.
Alarms blared. More passengers crowded toward the checkpoint to see what was happening. I had to end this soon—before I passed out from pain or more mortals got hurt.
I felt my strength fading, my shield flickering. Leroy’s fangs were an inch from my face, and Horus was offering no words of encouragement.
Then I thought about my invisible locker in the Duat. I wondered if other things could be put in there too…large, evil things.
I closed my hands around Leroy’s throat and wedged my knee against his rib cage. Then I imagined an opening in the Duat—in the air right above me: 13/32/33. I imagined my locker opening as wide as it could go.
With my last bit of strength, I pushed Leroy straight up. He flew toward the ceiling, his eyes widening with surprise as he passed through an unseen rift and disappeared.
“Where’d it go?” someone yelled.
“Hey, kid!” another guy called. “You okay?”
My energy shield was gone. I wanted to pass out, but I had to leave before the security guys came out of their shock and arrested me for moose fighting. I got to my feet and threw my sword at the ceiling. It disappeared into the Duat. Then I wrapped the torn leather around my bleeding arm as best I could and ran for the gates.
I reached our flight just as they were closing the door.
Apparently, word of the chicken man incident hadn’t spread quite yet. The gate agent gestured back toward the checkpoint as she took my ticket. “What’s all the noise up there?”
“A moose got through security,” I said. “It’s under control now.” Before she could ask questions, I raced down the jetway.
I collapsed into my seat across the aisle from Bast. Sadie, still in kite form, was pacing in the window seat next to me.
Bast let out a huge sigh of relief. “Carter, you made it! But you’re hurt. What happened?”
I told her.
Bast’s eyes widened. “You put the Set animal in your locker? Do you know how much strength that requires?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I was there.”
The flight attendant started making her announcements. Apparently, the security incident hadn’t affected our flight. The plane pushed back from the gate on time.
I doubled forward in pain, and only then did Bast notice how bad my arm was. Her expression turned grim.
“Hold still.” She whispered something in Egyptian, and my eyes began to feel heavy.
“You’ll need sleep to heal that wound,” she said.
“But if Leroy comes back—”
“Who?”
“Nothing.”
Bast studied me as if seeing me for the first time. “That was extraordinarily brave, Carter. Facing the Set monster—you have more tomcat in you than I realized.”
“Um—thanks?”
She smiled and touched my forehead. “We’ll be in the air soon, my tomcat. Sleep.”
I couldn’t really object. Exhaustion washed over me, and I closed my eyes.
Naturally my soul decided to take a trip.
I was in ba form, circling above Phoenix. It was a brilliant winter morning. The cool desert air felt good under my wings. The city looked different in the daylight—a vast grid of beige and green squares dotted with palm trees and swimming pools. Stark mountains rose up here and there like chunks of the moon. The most prominent mountain was right below me—a long ridge with two distinct peaks. What had Set’s minion called it on my first soul visit? Camelback Mountain.
Its foothills were crowded with luxury homes, but the top was barren. Something caught my attention: a crevice between two large boulders, and a shimmer of heat coming from deep within the mountain—something that no human eye would’ve noticed.
I folded my wings and dove toward the crevice.
Hot air vented out with such force that I had to push my way through. About fifty feet down, the crevice opened up, and I found myself in a place that simply couldn’t exist.
The entire inside of the mountain had been hollowed out. In the middle of the cavern, a giant pyramid was under construction. The air rang with the sound of pickaxes. Hordes of demons cut blood-red limestone into blocks and hauled it to the middle of the cave, where more swarms of demons used ropes and ramps to hoist the blocks into place, the way my dad said the Giza pyramids were built. But the Giza pyramids had taken, like, twenty years each to complete. This pyramid was already halfway done.
There was something odd about it, too—and not just the blood-red color. When I looked at it I felt a familiar tingle, as if the whole structure were humming with a tone…no, a voice I almost recognized.
I spotted a smaller shape floating in the air above the pyramid—a reed barge l
ike Uncle Amos’s riverboat. On it stood two figures. One was a tall demon in leather armor. The other was a burly man in red combat fatigues.
I circled closer, trying to stay in the shadows because I wasn’t sure I was really invisible. I landed on the top of the mast. It was a tricky maneuver, but neither of the boat’s occupants looked up.
“How much longer?” asked the man in red.
He had Set’s voice, but he looked completely different than he had in my last vision. He wasn’t a slimy black thing, and he wasn’t on fire—except for the scary mixture of hatred and amusement burning in his eyes. He had a big thick body like a linebacker’s, with meaty hands and a brutish face. His short bristly hair and trimmed goatee were as red as his combat fatigues. I’d never seen camouflage that color before. Maybe he was planning on hiding out in a volcano.
Next to him, the demon bowed and scraped. It was the weird rooster-footed guy I’d seen before. He was at least seven feet tall and scarecrow thin, with bird talons for feet. And unfortunately, this time I could see his face. It was almost too hideous to describe. You know those anatomy exhibits where they show dead bodies without skin? Imagine one of those faces alive, only with solid black eyes and fangs.
“We’re making excellent progress, master!” the demon promised. “We conjured a hundred more demons today. With luck, we will be done at sunset on your birthday!”
“That is unacceptable, Face of Horror,” Set said calmly.
The servant flinched. I guessed his name was Face of Horror. I wondered how long it had taken his mom to think of that. Bob? No. Sam? No. How about Face of Horror?
“B-but, master,” Face stammered. “I thought—”
“Do not think, demon. Our enemies are more resourceful than I imagined. They have temporarily disabled my favorite pet and are now speeding toward us. We must finish before they arrive. Sunrise on my birthday, Face of Horror. No later. It will be the dawn of my new kingdom. I will scour all life from this continent, and this pyramid shall stand as a monument to my power—the final and eternal tomb of Osiris!”
My heart almost stopped. I looked down at the pyramid again, and I realized why it felt so familiar. It had an energy to it—my father’s energy. I can’t explain how, but I knew his sarcophagus lay hidden somewhere inside that pyramid.
Set smiled cruelly, as if he would be just as happy to have Face obey him or to rip Face to pieces. “You understand my order?”
“Yes, lord!” Face of Horror shifted his bird feet, as if building up his courage. “But may I ask, lord…why stop there?”
Set’s nostrils flared. “You are one sentence away from destruction, Face of Horror. Choose your next words carefully.”
The demon ran his black tongue across his teeth. “Well, my lord, is the annihilation of only one god worthy of your glorious self? What if we could create even more chaos energy—to feed your pyramid for all time and make you the eternal lord of all worlds?”
A hungry light danced in Set’s eyes. “‘Lord of all worlds’…that has a nice ring to it. And how would you accomplish this, puny demon?”
“Oh, not I, my lord. I am an insignificant worm. But if we were to capture the others: Nephthys—”
Set kicked Face in the chest, and the demon collapsed, wheezing. “I told you never to speak her name.”
“Yes, master,” Face panted. “Sorry, master. But if we were to capture her, and the others…think on the power you could consume. With the right plan…”
Set began nodding, warming to the idea. “I think it’s time we put Amos Kane to use.”
I tensed. Was Amos here?
“Brilliant, master. A brilliant plan.”
“Yes, I’m glad I thought of it. Soon, Face of Horror, very soon, Horus, Isis, and my treacherous wife will bow at my feet—and Amos will help. We’ll have a nice little family reunion.”
Set looked up—straight at me, as if he’d known I was there all along, and gave me that rip-you-to-pieces smile. “Isn’t that right, boy?”
I wanted to spread my wings and fly. I had to get out of the cavern and warn Sadie. But my wings wouldn’t work. I sat there paralyzed as Set reached out to grab me.
S A D I E
23. Professor Thoth’s Final Exam
SADIE HERE. SORRY FOR THE DELAY, though I don’t suppose you’d notice on a recording. My nimble-fingered brother dropped the microphone into a pit full of…oh, never mind. Back to the story.
Carter woke with such a start, he banged his knees against the drinks tray, which was quite funny.
“Sleep well?” I asked.
He blinked at me in confusion. “You’re human.”
“How kind of you to notice.”
I took another bite of my pizza. I’d never eaten pizza from a china plate or had a Coke in a glass (with ice no less—Americans are so odd) but I was enjoying first class.
“I changed back an hour ago.” I cleared my throat. “It—ah—was helpful, what you said, about focusing on what’s important.”
Awkward saying even that much, as I remembered everything he’d told me while I was in kite form about his travels with Dad—how he’d gotten lost in the Underground, gotten sick in Venice, squealed like a baby when he’d found a scorpion in his sock. So much ammunition to tease him with, but oddly I wasn’t tempted. The way he’d poured out his soul… Perhaps he thought I didn’t understand him in kite form—but he’d been so honest, so unguarded, and he’d done it all to calm me down. If he hadn’t given me something to focus on, I’d probably still be hunting field mice over the Potomac.
Carter had spoken about Dad as if their travels together had been a great thing, yes, but also quite a chore, with Carter always struggling to please and be on his best behavior, with no one to relax with, or talk to. Dad was, I had to admit, quite a presence. You’d be hard-pressed not to want his approval. (No doubt that’s where I get my own stunningly charismatic personality.) I saw him only twice a year, and even so I had to prepare myself mentally for the experience. For the first time, I began to wonder if Carter really had the better end of the bargain. Would I trade my life for his?
I also decided not to tell him what had finally changed me back to human. I hadn’t focused on Dad at all. I’d imagined Mum alive, imagined us walking down Oxford Street together, gazing in the shop windows and talking and laughing—the kind of ordinary day we’d never gotten to share. An impossible wish, I know. But it had been powerful enough to remind me of who I was.
Didn’t say any of that, but Carter studied my face, and I sensed that he picked up my thoughts a little too well.
I took a sip of Coke. “You missed lunch, by the way.”
“You didn’t try to wake me?”
On the other side of the aisle, Bast burped. She’d just finished off her plate of salmon and was looking quite satisfied. “I could summon more Friskies,” she offered. “Or cheese sandwiches.”
“No thanks,” Carter muttered. He looked devastated.
“God, Carter,” I said. “If it’s that important to you, I’ve got some pizza left—”
“It’s not that,” he said. And he told us how his ba had almost been captured by Set.
The news gave me trouble breathing. I felt as if I were stuck in kite form again, unable to think clearly. Dad trapped in a red pyramid? Poor Amos used as some sort of pawn? I looked at Bast for some kind of reassurance. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”
Her expression was grim. “Sadie, I don’t know. Set will be most powerful on his birthday, and sunrise is the most auspicious moment for magic. If he’s able to generate one great explosion of storm energy at sunrise on that day—using not only his own magic, but augmenting it with the power of other gods he’s managed to enslave…the amount of chaos he could unleash is almost unimaginable.” She shuddered. “Carter, you say a simple demon gave him this idea?”
“Sounded like it,” Carter said. “Or he tweaked the original plan, anyway.”
She shook her head. “This is not like Set.”
I coughed. “What do you mean? It’s exactly like him.”
“No,” Bast insisted. “This is horrendous, even for him. Set wishes to be king, but such an explosion might leave him nothing to rule. It’s almost as if…” She stopped herself, the thought seemingly too disturbing. “I don’t understand it, but we’ll be landing soon. You’ll have to ask Thoth.”
“You make it sound like you’re not coming,” I said.
“Thoth and I don’t get along very well. Your chances of surviving might be better—”
The seat belt light came on. The captain announced we’d started our descent into Memphis. I peered out the window and saw a vast brown river cutting across the landscape—a river larger than any I’d ever seen. It reminded me uncomfortably of a giant snake.
The flight attendant came by and pointed to my lunch plate. “Finished, dear?”
“It seems so,” I told her gloomily.
Memphis hadn’t gotten word that it was winter. The trees were green and the sky was a brilliant blue.
We’d insisted Bast not “borrow” a car this time, so she agreed to rent one as long as she got a convertible. I didn’t ask where she got the money, but soon we were cruising through the mostly deserted streets of Memphis with our BMW’s top down.
I remember only snapshots of the city. We passed through one neighborhood that might’ve been a set from Gone with the Wind—big white mansions on enormous lawns shaded by cypress trees, although the plastic Santa Claus displays on the rooftops rather ruined the effect. On the next block, we almost got killed by an old woman driving a Cadillac out of a church parking lot. Bast swerved and honked her horn, and the woman just smiled and waved. Southern hospitality, I suppose.
After a few more blocks, the houses turned to rundown shacks. I spotted two African American boys wearing jeans and muscle shirts, sitting on their front porch, strumming acoustic guitars and singing. They sounded so good, I was tempted to stop.
On the next corner stood a cinder block restaurant with a hand-painted sign that read chicken & waffles. There was a queue of twenty people outside.
The Complete Kane Chronicles Page 22
