“Time?”
“Half past four in the morning,” Zia said. “Magic isn’t working very well. The closer we get to the mountain, the worse it is. And the truck’s GPS system is down. Amos and Carter went inside to ask directions.”
That didn’t sound promising. If two male magicians were desperate enough to stop for directions, we were in dire straits.
The truck’s cab shook in the howling wind. After all we’d been through, I felt silly being scared of a storm, but I climbed over the seat so I could sit next to Zia and have some company.
“How long have they been in there?” I asked.
“Not long,” Zia said. “I wanted to talk to you before they come back.”
I raised an eyebrow. “About Carter? Well, if you’re wondering whether he likes you, the way he stammers might be an indication.”
Zia frowned. “No, I’m—”
“Asking if I mind? Very considerate. I must say at first I had my doubts, what with you threatening to kill us and all, but I’ve decided you’re not a bad sort, and Carter’s mad about you, so—”
“It’s not about Carter.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Oops. Could you just forget what I said, then?”
“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. “Look, Zia, I can’t believe Amos would—”
“Amos wouldn’t,” Zia agreed. “But Set can bend the mind and control the body. I’m not a specialist on possession, but it was a very common problem in ancient times. Minor demons are difficult enough to dislodge. A major god—”
“He’s not possessed. He can’t be.” I winced. A sharp pain was burning in my palm, in the spot where I’d last held the feather of truth. But I wasn’t telling a lie! I did believe Amos was innocent…didn’t I?
Zia studied my expression. “You need Amos to be all right. He is your uncle. You’ve lost too many members of your family. I understand that.”
I wanted to snap back that she didn’t understand anything, but her tone made me suspect she had known grief—possibly even more than I.
“We’ve got no choice,” I said. “There’s what, three hours till sunrise? Amos knows the best way into the mountain. Trap or no, we have to go there and try to stop Set.”
I could almost see the gears spinning in her head as she searched for some way, any way to convince me.
“All right,” she said at last. “I wanted to tell Carter something but I never got the opportunity. I’ll tell you instead. The last thing you need to stop Set—”
“You couldn’t possibly know his secret name.”
Zia held my gaze. Maybe it was the feather of truth, but I was certain she wasn’t bluffing. She did have the name of Set. Or at least, she believed she did.
And honestly, I’d overheard bits of her conversation with Carter while I was in the back of the cab. I hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but it was hard not to. I looked at Zia, and tried to believe she was hosting Nephthys, but it didn’t make any sense. I’d spoken with Nephthys. She’d told me she was far away in some sort of sleeping host. And Zia was right here in front of me.
“It will work,” Zia insisted. “But I can’t do it. It must be you.”
“Why not use it yourself?” I demanded. “Because you spent all your magic?”
She waved away the question. “Just promise me you will use it now, on Amos, before we reach the mountain. It may be your only chance.”
“And if you’re wrong, we waste the only chance we have. The book disappears once it’s used, right?”
Grudgingly, Zia nodded. “Once read, the book will dissolve and appear somewhere else in the world. But if you wait any longer, we’re doomed. If Set lures you into his base of power, you’ll never have the strength to confront him. Sadie, please—”
“Tell me the name,” I said. “I promise I’ll use it at the right time.”
“Now is the right time.”
I hesitated, hoping Isis would drop some words of wisdom, but the goddess was silent. I don’t know if I would’ve relented. Perhaps things would’ve turned out differently if I’d agreed to Zia’s plan. But before I could make that choice, the truck’s doors opened, and Amos and Carter climbed in with a gust of sand.
“We’re close.” Amos smiled as if this were good news. “Very, very close.”
S A D I E
36. Our Family Is Vaporized
LESS THAN A MILE FROM Camelback Mountain, we broke through into a circle of perfect calm.
“Eye of the storm,” Carter guessed.
It was eerie. All around the mountain swirled a cylinder of black clouds. Traces of smoke drifted back and forth from Camelback’s peak to the edges of the maelstrom like the spokes of a wheel, but directly above us, the sky was clear and starry, beginning to turn gray. Sunrise wasn’t far off.
The streets were empty. Mansions and hotels clustered round the mountain’s base, completely dark; but the mountain itself glowed. Ever hold your hand over a torch (sorry, a flashlight for you Americans) and watch the way your skin glows red? That’s the way the mountain looked: something very bright and hot was trying to burn through the rock.
“Nothing’s moving on the streets,” Zia said. “If we try to drive up to the mountain—”
“We’ll be seen,” I said.
“What about that spell?” Carter looked at Zia. “You know…the one you used in the First Nome.”
“What spell?” I asked.
Zia shook her head. “Carter is referring to an invisibility spell. But I have no magic. And unless you have the proper components, it can’t be done on a whim.”
“Amos?” I asked.
He pondered the question. “No invisibility, I’m afraid. But I have another idea.”
I thought turning into a bird was bad, until Amos turned us into storm clouds.
He explained what he was going to do in advance, but it didn’t make me any less nervous.
“No one will notice a few wisps of black cloud in the midst of a storm,” he reasoned.
“But this is impossible,” Zia said. “This is storm magic, chaos magic. We should not—”
Amos raised his wand, and Zia disintegrated.
“No!” Carter yelled, but then he too was gone, replaced by a swirl of black dust.
Amos turned to me.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Thanks, but—”
Poof. I was a storm cloud. Now, that may sound amazing to you, but imagine your hands and feet disappearing, turning into wisps of wind. Imagine your body replaced by dust and vapor, and having a tingly feeling in your stomach without even having a stomach. Imagine having to concentrate just to keep yourself from dispersing to nothing.
I got so angry, a flash of lightning crackled inside me.
“Don’t be that way,” Amos chided. “It’s only for a few minutes. Follow me.”
He melted into a heavier, darker bit of storm and raced towards the mountain. Following wasn’t easy. At first I could only float. Every wind threatened to take some part of me away. I tried swirling and found it helped keep my particles together. Then I imagined myself filling with helium, and suddenly I was off.
I couldn’t be sure if Carter and Zia were following or not. When you’re a storm, your vision isn’t human. I could vaguely sense what was around me, but what I “saw” was scattered and fuzzy, as if through heavy static.
I headed towards the mountain, which was an almost irresistible beacon to my storm self. It glowed with heat, pressure, and turbulence—everything a little dust devil like m
e could want.
I followed Amos to a ridge on the side of the mountain, but I returned to human form a little too soon. I tumbled out of the sky and knocked Carter to the ground.
“Ouch,” he groaned.
“Sorry,” I offered, though mostly I was concentrating on not getting sick. My stomach still felt like it was mostly storm.
Zia and Amos stood next to us, peeping into a crevice between two large sandstone boulders. Red light seeped from within and made their faces look devilish.
Zia turned to us. Judging from her expression, what she’d seen wasn’t good. “Only the pyramidion left.”
“The what?” I looked through the crevice, and the view was almost as disorienting as being a storm cloud. The entire mountain was hollowed out, just as Carter had described. The cavern floor was about six hundred meters below us. Fires blazed everywhere, bathing the rock walls in blood-colored light. A giant crimson pyramid dominated the cave, and at its base, masses of demons milled about like a rock concert crowd waiting for the show to begin. High above them, eye-level to us, two magic barges manned by crews of demons floated slowly, ceremoniously towards the pyramid. Suspended in a mesh of ropes between the boats was the only piece of the pyramid not yet installed—a golden capstone to top off the structure.
“They know they’ve won,” Carter guessed. “They’re making a show of it.”
“Yes,” Amos said.
“Well, let’s blow up the boats or something!” I said.
Amos looked at me. “Is that your strategy, honestly?”
His tone made me feel completely stupid. Looking down on the demon army, the enormous pyramid…what had I been thinking? I couldn’t battle this. I was a bloody twelve-year-old.
“We have to try,” Carter said. “Dad’s in there.”
That shook me out of my self-pity. If we were going to die, at least we would do it trying to rescue my father (oh, and North America, too, I suppose).
“Right,” I said. “We fly to those boats. We stop them from placing the capstone—”
“Pyramidion,” Zia corrected.
“Whatever. Then we fly into the pyramid and find Dad.”
“And when Set tries to stop you?” Amos asked.
I glanced at Zia, who was silently warning me not to say more.
“First things first,” I said. “How do we fly to the boats?”
“As a storm,” Amos suggested.
“No!” the rest of us said.
“I will not be part of more chaos magic,” Zia insisted. “It is not natural.”
Amos waved at the spectacle below us. “Tell me this is natural. You have another plan?”
“Birds,” I said, hating myself for even considering it. “I’ll become a kite. Carter can do a falcon.”
“Sadie,” Carter warned, “what if—”
“I have to try.” I looked away before I could lose my resolve. “Zia, it’s been almost ten hours since your pillar of fire, hasn’t it? Still no magic?”
Zia held out her hand and concentrated. At first, nothing happened. Then red light flickered along her fingers, and her staff appeared in her grip, still smoking.
“Good timing,” Carter said.
“Also bad timing,” Amos observed. “It means Desjardins is no longer pursued by the pillar of fire. He’ll be here soon, and I’m sure he’ll bring backup. More enemies for us.”
“My magic will still be weak,” Zia warned. “I won’t be much help in a fight, but I can perhaps manage to summon a ride.” She brought out the vulture pendant she’d used at Luxor.
“Which leaves me,” Amos said. “No worries there. Let’s meet on the left boat. We’ll take that one out, then deal with the right. And let’s hope for surprise.”
I wasn’t in the mood to let Amos set our plans, but I couldn’t find any fault with his logic. “Right. We’ll have to finish the boats off quickly, then head into the pyramid itself. Perhaps we can seal off the entrance or something.”
Carter nodded. “Ready.”
At first, the plan seemed to go well. Turning into a kite was no problem, and to my surprise, once I reached the prow of the ship, I managed to turn back into a human on the first try, with my staff and wand ready. The only person more surprised was the demon right in front of me, whose switchblade head popped straight up in alarm.
Before he could slice me or even cry out, I summoned wind from my staff and blew him off the side of the boat. Two of his brethren charged forward, but Carter appeared behind them, sword drawn, and sliced them into piles of sand.
Unfortunately, Zia was a bit less stealthy. A giant vulture with a girl hanging from its feet tends to attract attention. As she flew towards the boat, demons below pointed and yelled. Some threw spears that fell short of their mark.
Zia’s grand entrance did manage to distract the remaining two demons on our boat, however, which allowed Amos to appear behind them. He’d taken the form of a fruit bat, which brought back bad memories; but he quickly returned to human form and body-slammed the demons, sending them tumbling into the air.
“Hold on!” he told us. Zia landed just in time to grab the tiller. Carter and I grabbed the sides of the boat. I had no idea what Amos was planning, but after my last flying boat ride, I wasn’t taking chances. Amos began to chant, pointing his staff towards the other boat, where the demons were just beginning to shout and point at us.
One of them was tall and very thin, with black eyes and a disgusting face, like muscle with the skin peeled away.
“That’s Set’s lieutenant,” Carter warned. “Face of Horror.”
“You!” the demon screamed. “Get them!”
Amos finished his spell. “Smoke,” he intoned.
Instantly, the second boat evaporated into gray mist. The demons fell screaming. The golden capstone plummeted until the lines attached to it from our side yanked taut, and our boat nearly flipped over. Canted sideways, we began to sink towards the cavern floor.
“Carter, cut the lines!” I screamed.
He sliced them with his sword, and the boat leveled out, rising several meters in an instant and leaving my stomach behind.
The pyramidion crashed to the cavern floor with much crunching and squishing. I had the feeling we’d just made a nice stack of demon griddlecakes.
“So far so good,” Carter noted, but as usual, he’d spoken too soon.
Zia pointed below us. “Look.”
All those demons who had wings—a small percentage, but still a good forty or fifty—had launched themselves towards us, filling the air like a swarm of angry wasps.
“Fly to the pyramid,” Amos said. “I’ll distract the demons.”
The pyramid’s entrance, a simple doorway between two columns at the base of the structure, was not far from us. It was guarded by a few demons, but most of Set’s forces were running towards our boat, screaming and throwing rocks (which tended to fall back down and hit them, but no one says demons are bright).
“They’re too many,” I argued. “Amos, they’ll kill you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he said grimly. “Seal the entrance behind you.”
He pushed me over the side, giving me no choice but to turn into a kite. Carter in falcon form was already spiraling towards the entrance, and I could hear Zia’s vulture flapping its great wings behind us.
I heard Amos yell, “For Brooklyn!”
It was an odd battle cry. I glanced back, and the boat burst into flames. It began drifting away from the pyramid and down towards the army of monsters. Fireballs shot from the boat in all directions as pieces of the hull crumbled away. I didn’t have time to marvel at Amos’s magic, or worry what had happened to him. He distracted many of the demons with his pyrotechnics, but some noticed us.
Carter and I landed just inside the pyramid’s entrance and returned to human form. Zia tumbled in next to us and turned her vulture back into an amulet. The demons were only a few steps behind—a dozen massive blokes with the heads of insects, dragons, and assort
ed Swiss Army knife attachments.
Carter thrust out his hand. A giant shimmering fist appeared and mimicked his move—pushing right between Zia and me and slamming the doors shut. Carter closed his eyes in concentration, and a burning golden symbol etched itself across the doors like a seal: the Eye of Horus. The lines glowed faintly as demons hammered against the barrier, trying to get in.
“It won’t hold them long,” Carter said.
I was duly impressed, though of course I didn’t say that. Looking at the sealed doors, all I could think about was Amos, out there on a burning boat, surrounded by an evil army.
“Amos knew what he was doing,” Carter said, though he didn’t sound very convinced. “He’s probably fine.”
“Come on,” Zia prodded us. “No time for second guessing.”
The tunnel was narrow, red, and humid, so I felt like I was crawling through an artery of some enormous beast. We made our way down single file, as the tunnel sloped at about forty degrees—which would’ve made a lovely waterslide but wasn’t so good for stepping carefully. The walls were decorated with intricate carvings, like most Egyptian walls we’d seen, but Carter obviously didn’t like them. He kept stopping, scowling at the pictures.
“What?” I demanded, after the fifth or sixth time.
“These aren’t normal tomb drawings,” he said. “No afterlife pictures, no pictures of the gods.”
Zia nodded. “This pyramid is not a tomb. It is a platform, a body to contain the power of Set. All these pictures are to increase chaos, and make it reign forever.”
As we kept walking, I paid more attention to the carvings, and I saw what Zia meant. The pictures showed horrible monsters, scenes of war, cities such as Paris and London in flames, full-color portraits of Set and the Set animal tearing into modern armies—scenes so gruesome, no Egyptian would ever commit them to stone. The farther we went, the weirder and more vivid the pictures became, and the queasier I felt.
Finally we reached the heart of the pyramid.
Where the burial chamber should’ve been in a regular pyramid, Set had designed a throne room for himself. It was about the size of a tennis court, but around the edges, the floor dropped off into a deep trench like a moat. Far, far below, red liquid bubbled. Blood? Lava? Evil ketchup? None of the possibilities were good.
The Complete Kane Chronicles Page 35
