by Lynne Ewing
Sudi grabbed the printouts and stuffed them into her backpack on top of her shoes, then left the computer room and started up the stairs, barefoot except for the grimy Band-Aids wrapped around her sore toes. The blisters on her heels burned. She’d only worn the killer shoes for Brian, but he hadn’t even come to school. Sudi had learned through friends that his dad was being honored at the Pentagon, and Dominique had attended the ceremony with Brian and his family.
As she passed Brian’s locker, an unwanted memory came back to her. The first time they had driven over to Virginia, Brian had steered his car down a dark street where no one could witness what they were going to do. She had thought he wanted to take their relationship further, but his mind had never been on kissing her. Instead he asked her to drive his huge old Cadillac, even though she didn’t have a license.
Then Brian had put on his skates, and, knees bent like a skier, he had taken hold of the car bumper while she started the engine. She drove down the paved roads, while Brian kept yelling at her to go faster. She pressed her foot down on the gas pedal until wind snapped through the window and tousled her hair.
The oncoming lights flashed again in her mind, and she flinched. If the SUV hadn’t swerved, she would have killed Brian and maybe others. But instead of being upset, Brian had said the near-crash had been his best ride ever. He was into skitching and car surfing—anything extreme.
How many times had he forced her to drive down those same roads? Why hadn’t she been able to tell him no?
She should have felt relieved that Brian was going out with Dominique now, but Sudi had an uneasy feeling that her bond with Brian wasn’t broken. She didn’t know what she would do if he called again and she didn’t understand why she had taken such risks. It was as if something dormant inside her had awakened, a part of her she had never known before, and it scared her.
By the time she reached the second-floor landing, the sun had set, leaving the corridor in dusky light. The silence made her pause. The band practiced every day after school. Normally, the off-key tones from clarinets and flutes filled the air. She glanced at her watch. It was almost seven. She couldn’t have been on the computer that long without being aware of the hours slipping away.
The sound of footsteps in the stairwell broke the quiet, but knowing that someone else wandered the deserted hallways with her did not comfort her now. She tiptoed to her locker, not understanding the intense need to hide. The feeling nagged at her even though reason told her she was safe.
Maybe she should have listened to her sisters’ warning after all. She looked up and down the hallway, not sure what she expected to see, before she worked her combination. She opened her locker and caught her reflection in the heart-shaped mirror on the door. Her hair was parted on the wrong side, exposing a section of the birthmark on her scalp.
As she started to fix her part, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Sudi tried to turn and lost her balance.
Carter grabbed her arm and steadied her. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You startled me,” she said and started to laugh, but stopped. She had looked both ways down the hallway and hadn’t seen him. “Did you sneak up on me?”
“Why would I do that?” he asked with a slow, easy grin, and rested his hand on the locker above her. He edged closer and looked down at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. He tilted his head until his lips were dangerously close to kissing her.
“Carter,” she said, flustered. “We’re best friends.”
“Just testing,” he teased.
She shook her head. Girls at school warned each other to stay away from him, but they never followed their own advice. No one could resist him even with his reputation as a heartbreaker.
“Brian is an idiot,” Carter said, interrupting her thoughts. “I told him so when he started going out with Dominique.”
His fingers ran down her arm. She pulled away, then hesitated. Maybe he was only offering her the comfort of friendship. He squeezed her hand.
“It’s pretty funny the way you ruined Dominique’s boots,” he went on. “Brian told me she’s making him buy her a new pair.”
“It was an accident,” Sudi protested. “The lemonade slipped out of my hand.”
“No one believes you,” Carter said and shot her a wry smile.
“You know I’d tell you if I’d done it on purpose.” She tried to concentrate on which books she needed to take home, but her mind jumped back to Saturday, the day she and Brian had broken up.
Sudi had bought lunch at the Bread Line, a small restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue near the White House, and as she bit into the crusty bread and sweet Italian sausage, Brian and Dominique had walked inside, holding hands. When Brian leaned over to kiss Dominique, his gaze fell on Sudi. She immediately marched over to Brian, planning to tell him that they were through, but the drink she was holding dropped from her hand, splashing over Dominique’s pricey boots. Sudi fled in embarrassment.
“Can I give Scott your cell number?” Carter asked.
“Scott?” Sudi asked, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless.
“I didn’t know if you were ready,” Carter answered. “You look like you landed pretty hard.”
“I’m through with Brian,” she mumbled, not sure that she was, and reached into her locker. She pulled a folder from under her rolled-up sweater, and a stack of test papers spilled forward.
“Scott’s been waiting for you to figure out that Brian’s all wrong for you,” Carter said, but his eyes never met hers. He stared at the lopsided pile of tests, then ran his fingers through the pages as if checking her grades. He seemed to be looking for something.
“You can give Scott my number,” Sudi answered, but a thought occurred to her as she pulled her shoes from her backpack and slipped them onto her wounded feet. “How do you know Scott?”
“He plays rugby,” Carter answered, and then, abruptly, he began jogging backward. “I’ll catch you tomorrow,” he yelled before turning and sprinting away.
Sudi glanced into her locker and wondered what Carter had expected to find. She pulled out her sweater, and a white envelope glided after it, skating across the floor. She picked it up. URGENT was written across the front. She ripped the seal, pulled out a square piece of paper and read the message.
Our meeting cannot be put off any longer. Come to the Hotel Washington, Sky Terrace restaurant, sunset. I will tell you everything.
A thrill rushed through her. The invitation had to be from Scott. Carter’s odd behavior suddenly made sense; he hadn’t been looking for anything, he had been sneaking the invitation into her locker.
She stuffed her sweater inside, then twirled the combination lock, grabbed her backpack, and hoped she wasn’t too late.
Sudi dropped her backpack on a love seat near the door, straightened her lacy camisole and stepped into the crowded Sky Terrace restaurant. The warm evening air wrapped around her, bringing the lush smells of frying onions and seafood. Even the night views of the White House and the Washington Monument were perfect for a first date. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation.
When Scott didn’t come forward to greet her, she headed toward the end of the terrace, where people stood clustered in small groups. Maybe Scott had invited her to a gathering of Entre Nous students.
Halfway there, she noticed a young man, seated at a table near the railing, waving at her. At first, she thought he was trying to get the attention of someone behind her, but then he called her name. “Sudi!”
She swerved around a fast-moving waitress and started toward him, assuming he was a friend of Scott’s. He had the Entre Nous look: a three-hundred-dollar haircut and a jacket that cost more than Sudi spent on clothing in an entire year.
“I’m Abdel,” he said, rising to greet her, and took her hand. Then, motioning to a girl seated beside him, he added, “This is Meri.”
Everyone in D.C. knew Senator Stark’s daughter. Meri attended Entre Nous and was usually surroun
ded by photographers and bodyguards. Her mother had made one bid for her party’s presidential nomination, and political analysts said that this year the senator would succeed.
Meri waved and looked toward the exit, as if she were about to use Sudi’s arrival as an excuse to leave. Maybe Abdel had been a blind date and Meri was unhappy with the match—although on the surface, Sudi couldn’t see any reason for Meri to be displeased.
“I’d also like you to meet Dalila,” Abdel added.
Sudi had never seen Dalila before, and she definitely would have remembered meeting her. Dalila was breathtakingly beautiful, despite her shaven head and the strange tattoo above her right temple.
“I’m pleased to meet you,” Dalila said quietly.
“Hi,” Sudi answered, looking around. “Where’s Scott?” She took a seat next to Abdel.
“Scott?” Abdel asked.
“Scott Johnston,” Sudi said. “He asked me to meet him here.”
“I asked you here,” Abdel corrected her. He handed her a menu.
“You sent me the invitation?” Sudi asked, surprised.
“I needed to meet with the three of you.” Abdel set his arms on the table and leaned forward. “I’ve been sent to the United States by the Hour priests, a secret society—”
“Sheesh,” Meri said and fell back in her chair. “Is this some weird way to meet my mother?”
“Why would I want to meet her?” Abdel asked.
“Because everyone in this town wants to speak to her,” Meri answered curtly. “And FYI, you won’t get a meeting with her through me. I only came here because you gave me such a valuable gift.” She held up a rod with the head of a snake that looked like the one Sudi had found on her bed earlier. “My mother told me I had to return this to you.”
“It’s an apotropaic wand,” Abdel explained. “The ancient Egyptians used it for protection. And you can’t return it to me, because it belongs to you.”
“That excuse is not going to work with my mom,” Meri said and placed the snake on the table.
“Maybe after I explain why I’ve been sent here, you’ll want to keep it,” Abdel said. “The three of you are descended from the divine pharaohs of ancient Egypt.”
Dalila nodded knowingly, suggesting that his revelation wasn’t a secret to her. But Meri and Sudi just stared at each other, then burst into spontaneous laughter.
“Do I look regal?” Meri asked between giggles. She was thin and tomboyish, her hair falling into her eyes.
“Abdel is telling the truth,” Dalila insisted.
“I was born in Nebraska,” Sudi answered pulling on a strand of silky blond hair. Her eyes were blue, her skin pale cream. She didn’t look Egyptian. “My family has lived in North America since the Dutch settled Delaware in 1631. So how can I be related to a pharaoh?”
“Because you are,” Abdel answered. “And now you must stand against evil and defend the world.”
“Right,” Meri said and folded her arms over her chest, solemn again.
“Because we’re superheroes,” Sudi added sarcastically and smiled. She’d played enough pranks on other people to recognize this as someone’s practical joke, but who would go to such an extreme? Then she thought of Brian and the new boots he had to buy for Dominique. But he was the one who had dumped her. Could he really be that upset with her?
Abdel spoke again, “Since the goddess Isis gave the Hour priests the Book of Thoth, the priests have devoted their lives to stopping the forces of darkness. So, when the Cult of Anubis turned up in Washington, D.C., we were concerned.”
Everyone in D.C. had heard about the cult: a new age group from California that had opened a spa, offering relaxation and pleasure for overworked Washingtonians. But Sudi had also heard rumors about therapies that sounded more like magic than cures, and elaborate secret ceremonies performed for members only.
“The cult leaders plan to destroy the bloodline of Horus and return the universe to the chaos from which it came,” Abdel said, breaking into Sudi’s thoughts. “They’ll use demons and—”
“Do you expect me to believe that?” Sudi asked. For a practical joke it was pretty lame, but then another idea came to her, and she suddenly wished she had worn makeup and her push-up bra because this had to be a new reality show. It made sense to her now. Dalila looked drop-dead gorgeous and was probably the hostess, and Meri was a celebrity. Sudi had an image of her sisters writing to the producers and proposing Sudi, the ultimate skeptic, for their show. She lifted her glass of water, trying not to look too obvious, and glanced around, searching for the hidden cameras and microphones.
Abdel reached into a worn leather pouch and pulled out three tattered beige scrolls with dark brown striations.
“These are papyri from the Book of Thoth,” he said and handed one to each girl. “You’ll need the incantations written here to fight the creatures sent to destroy you.”
Sudi touched the frayed edges and unrolled the scroll, then ran her finger over the images of rabbits, snakes, and eyes.
“Only the divine heirs to the throne of Egypt have the power to use the magic in the Book of Thoth to stop the dark forces freed by the cult,” Abdel explained.
“Oh, okay, sure. I’ll just use my Saturday nights to protect the city from mummies,” Sudi scoffed, as she imagined her friends laughing when the program aired on TV.
“You don’t really believe this stuff, do you?” Meri asked Abdel. “It’s bunk.”
Abdel scowled. “You must believe me. The cult leaders could be contacting you already, using a spell to make you walk to them while you’re still asleep.”
A chill swept through Sudi. How could the show’s producers know about her sleepwalking? It had to be just a coincidence. Or maybe Carter was in on it and he had seen what she had been researching in the computer room.
“You’re wasting my time,” Meri said tiredly and glanced at the other end of the terrace, trying to get someone’s attention. “I need to go home and study.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Abdel said, his voice rising. “And the proof is in the identical birthmarks you each have beneath your hair.”
Sudi reached up and touched her head, then looked across the table. Meri had done the same. They both glimpsed the eye on Dalila’s scalp, then looked back at each other again.
“Your birthmarks look like the one that Dalila has above her temple,” Abdel explained. “It’s the sacred eye of Horus.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Meri said.
Abdel turned to Dalila. “Help me convince them that I’m telling the truth.”
“Why should I, when no one told me the truth?” Dalila asked, her large eyes becoming glassy with tears.
“Your uncle said that he had reared you to be the perfect heir.” Abdel seemed truly shocked.
“The heir to some fortune, I thought. I assumed I was being groomed to marry some rich prince from Saudi Arabia,” she replied.
“You were taught the old ways,” he argued.
“So I would be a treasure to my people when I married and moved to the Middle East,” Dalila shot back.
Sudi watched Dalila. She was definitely overplaying for the cameras.
“No one ever told me I had to fight demons. And, although I don’t understand your reasons for doing so, I know you’re lying.” Dalila grabbed a shawl from the back of her chair, flung it around her like an actress leaving the stage, and stormed off.
“That’s it,” Meri said, picking up her scroll. “And, Abdel, take me off your invite list, because I’m definitely not coming to another one of your dinners, no matter how much my mother insists that I should.”
Abdel clasped her wrist.
“Let go of me,” Meri yelled and tried to yank her hand back, but his hold was powerful.
At the other end of the terrace two men got up from their chairs. One had taken off his jacket, and his husky chest and arms barely fit into his short-sleeved shirt. The other, taller than the first, had a hard, sunburned face. He flu
ng his chair out of the way and marched forward, bumping into the table edges.
“Let go of her!” he shouted with booming authority.
Diners and waiters became silent. The thump-thumping of the two presidential helicopters landing on the White House lawn were the only sounds on the terrace.
“You must listen to me,” Abdel pleaded, holding Meri’s arm. “Your life is in danger. Do you think the cult leaders will let you live?”
“Look behind you,” Meri challenged.
Abdel glanced over his shoulder. The two men had pulled guns, and their attention was focused intently on Abdel.
Diners screamed, and a table toppled over as people stampeded toward the exits.
But instead of releasing Meri, Abdel grabbed her head.
Meri cursed and flung her arms, pounding on his back.
Sudi froze, undecided. This wasn’t like any reality show she’d ever seen before; Meri looked truly distressed. Maybe Abdel was just a rich guy living in his own fantasy world.
Sudi clutched Abdel’s arm, trying to help Meri. She dug her fingernails into his skin, but Abdel didn’t flinch.
“Release her,” the taller man yelled again.
Abdel ignored the order and spread his fingers in Meri’s hair, then bowed his head until it rested against her forehead. He spoke in a language that Sudi didn’t understand and had never heard before.
Meri stopped struggling and tilted her head, looking into Abdel’s eyes, transfixed.
The two men with the guns lunged forward. The taller one grabbed Sudi around the waist and pulled her out of the way. Then both men wrestled with Abdel, trying to rescue Meri, but Abdel didn’t let go until he had finished speaking.
When he released her, she collapsed into the burly man’s arms. The taller one slipped his gun back into its holster and tried to handcuff Abdel, but Abdel shoved him aside and turned to Sudi.
