by Rick Riordan
‘If only …’ Annabeth faltered.
She realized her own backpack was still on her shoulder. How had it not slipped off during the fight? And why did it feel so light?
She unslung the pack and opened the top. The architecture books were gone. Instead, nestled at the bottom was a brownie-sized square of ambrosia wrapped in cellophane, and under that …
Annabeth’s lower lip trembled. She pulled out something she hadn’t carried with her in a long time: her battered blue New York Yankees cap.
She glanced up at the darkening sky. ‘Mom?’
No reply, but Annabeth couldn’t think of any other explanation. Her mother had sent her help. The realization both encouraged and terrified her. If Athena was taking a personal interest in this situation, Serapis truly was a monumental threat – not just to Annabeth but to the gods.
‘It’s a baseball cap,’ Sadie noted. ‘Is that good?’
‘I – I think so,’ Annabeth said. ‘The last time I wore it, the magic didn’t work. But if it does … I might have a plan. It’ll be your turn to keep Serapis distracted.’
Sadie frowned. ‘Did I mention I’m out of magic?’
‘That’s okay,’ Annabeth said. ‘How are you at bluffing, lying and trash-talking?’
Sadie raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ve been told those are my most attractive qualities.’
‘Excellent,’ Annabeth said. ‘Then it’s time I taught you some Greek.’
They didn’t have long.
Annabeth had barely finished coaching Sadie when the ruined building shook, debris exploded outwards, and Serapis emerged, roaring and cursing.
Startled emergency workers scattered from the scene, but they didn’t seem to notice the fifteen-foot-tall god marching away from the wreckage, his three-headed staff spewing steam and red beams of magic into the sky.
Serapis headed straight in Sadie and Annabeth’s direction.
‘Ready?’ Annabeth asked.
Sadie exhaled. ‘Do I have a choice?’
‘Here.’ Annabeth gave her the square of ambrosia. ‘Demigod food. It might restore your strength.’
‘Might, eh?’
‘If I can use your healing potion, you should be able to eat ambrosia.’
‘Cheers, then.’ Sadie took a bite. Colour returned to her cheeks. Her eyes brightened. ‘Tastes like my gran’s scones.’
Annabeth smiled. ‘Ambrosia always tastes like your favourite comfort food.’
‘That’s a shame.’ Sadie took another bite and swallowed. ‘Gran’s scones are always burnt and rather horrid. Ah – here comes our friend.’
Serapis kicked a fire engine out of his way and lumbered towards the train tracks. He didn’t seem to have spotted Sadie and Annabeth yet, but Annabeth guessed he could sense them. He scanned the horizon, his expression full of murderous rage.
‘Here we go.’ Annabeth donned her Yankees cap.
Sadie’s eyes widened. ‘Well done. You’re quite invisible. You won’t start shooting sparks, will you?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Oh … my brother cast an invisibility spell once. Didn’t work out so well. Anyway, good luck.’
‘You, too.’
Annabeth dashed to one side as Sadie waved her arms and yelled, ‘Oi, Serapis!’
‘DEATH TO YOU!’ the god bellowed.
He barrelled forward, his massive feet making craters in the tarmac.
As they’d planned, Sadie backed towards the beach. Annabeth crouched behind an abandoned car and waited for Serapis to pass. Invisible or not, she wasn’t going to take any chances.
‘Come on!’ Sadie taunted the god. ‘Is that the fastest you can run, you overgrown village idiot?’
‘RAR!’ The god charged past Annabeth’s position.
She ran after Serapis, who caught up with Sadie at the edge of the surf.
The god raised his glowing staff, all three monstrous heads belching steam. ‘Any last words, magician?’
‘For you? Yes!’ Sadie whirled her arms in movements that could’ve been magic – or possibly kung fu.
‘Meana aedei thea!’ She chanted the lines Annabeth had taught her. ‘En … ponte pathen algae!’
Annabeth winced. Sadie’s pronunciation was pretty bad. She’d got the first line right, more or less: Sing of rage, O goddess. But the second line should’ve been: In the sea, suffer misery. Instead, Sadie had said something like: In the sea, suffer moss!
Fortunately, the sound of Ancient Greek was enough to shock Serapis. The god wavered, his three-headed staff still raised. ‘What are you –’
‘Isis, hear me!’ Sadie continued. ‘Athena, to my aid!’ She rattled off some more phrases – some Greek, some Ancient Egyptian.
Meanwhile, Annabeth sneaked up behind the god, her eyes on the dagger still impaled in the monster’s shell. If Serapis would just lower his staff …
‘Alpha, beta, gamma!’ Sadie cried. ‘Gyros, spanakopita. Presto!’ She beamed in triumph. ‘There. You’re done for!’
Serapis stared at her, clearly baffled. The red tattoos on his skin dimmed. A few of the symbols turned into question marks and sad faces. Annabeth crept closer … twenty feet from him now.
‘Done for?’ Serapis asked. ‘What on earth are you talking about, girl? I’m about to destroy you.’
‘And if you do,’ Sadie warned, ‘you will activate the death link that sends you to oblivion!’
‘Death link? There is no such thing!’ Serapis lowered his staff. The three animal heads were level with Annabeth’s eyes.
Her heart pounded. Ten feet to go. Then, if she jumped, she might be able to reach the dagger. She’d only have one chance to pull it out.
The heads of the staff didn’t seem to notice her. They snarled and snapped, spitting steam in random directions. Wolf, lion, dog – past, present and future.
To do maximum damage, she knew which head she had to strike.
But why did the future have to be a dog? That black Labrador was the least threatening of the monster heads. With its big gold eyes and floppy ears, it reminded Annabeth of too many friendly pets she’d known.
It’s not a real animal, she told herself. It’s part of a magical staff.
But, as she got within striking distance, her arms grew heavy. She couldn’t look at the dog without feeling guilty.
The future is a good thing, the dog seemed to say. It’s cute and fuzzy!
If Annabeth struck at the Labrador’s head, what if she killed her own future – the plans she had for college, the plans she’d made with Percy … ?
Sadie was still talking. Her tone had taken on a harder edge.
‘My mother, Ruby Kane,’ Sadie told Serapis, ‘she gave her life to seal Apophis in the Duat. Apophis, mind you – who is thousands of years older than you and much more powerful. So if you think I’m going to let a second-rate god take over the world, think again!’
The anger in her voice was no mere bluff, and suddenly Annabeth was glad she’d given Sadie the job of facing down Serapis. The magician was surprisingly terrifying when she wanted to be.
Serapis shifted his weight uneasily. ‘I will destroy you!’
‘Good luck,’ Sadie said. ‘I’ve bound you with Greek and Egyptian spells so powerful they will scatter your atoms to the stars.’
‘You lie!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I feel no spell upon me. Even the one who summoned me had no such magic.’
Annabeth was face to face with the black dog. The dagger was just overhead, but every molecule in her body rebelled at the idea of killing the animal … killing the future.
Meanwhile, Sadie managed a brave laugh. ‘The one who summoned you? You mean that old con artist Setne?’
Annabeth didn’t know the name, but Serapis obviously did. The air around him rippled with heat. The lion snarled. The wolf bared its teeth.
‘Oh, yes,’ Sadie continued. ‘I’m very familiar with Setne. I suppose he didn’t tell you who let him back into the world. He’s only alive because I spar
ed him. You think his magic is powerful? Try me. Do it NOW.’
Annabeth stirred. She realized Sadie was talking to her, not the god. The bluff was getting old. She was out of time.
Serapis sneered. ‘Nice try, magician.’
As he raised his staff to strike, Annabeth jumped. Her hand closed round the hilt of the dagger, and she pulled it free.
‘What?’ Serapis cried.
Annabeth let loose a guttural sob and plunged her dagger into the dog’s neck.
She expected an explosion.
Instead, the dagger was sucked into the dog’s neck like a paper clip into a vacuum cleaner. Annabeth barely had time to let go.
She rolled free as the dog howled, shrinking and shrivelling until it imploded into the monster’s shell. Serapis roared. He shook his sceptre but he couldn’t seem to let go of it.
‘What have you done?’ he cried.
‘Taken your future,’ Annabeth said. ‘Without that, you’re nothing.’
The staff cracked open. It grew so hot that Annabeth felt the hairs on her arms start to burn. She crawled backwards through the sand as the lion and wolf heads were sucked into the shell. The entire staff collapsed into a red fireball in the god’s palm.
Serapis tried to shake it off. It only glowed brighter. His fingers curled inward. His hand was consumed. His entire arm contracted and vaporized as it was drawn into the fiery sphere.
‘I cannot be destroyed!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I am the pinnacle of your worlds combined! Without my guidance, you will never attain the crown! You all shall perish! You shall –’
The fireball flared and sucked the god into its vortex. Then it winked out as if it had never existed.
‘Ugh,’ Sadie said.
They sat on the beach at sunset, watching the tide and listening to the wail of emergency vehicles behind them.
Poor Rockaway. First a hurricane. Then a train wreck, a building collapse and a rampaging god all in one day. Some communities never catch a break.
Annabeth sipped her Ribena – a British drink that Sadie had summoned from her ‘personal storage area’ in the Duat.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sadie assured her. ‘Summoning snacks isn’t hard magic.’
As thirsty as Annabeth was, the Ribena tasted even better than nectar.
Sadie seemed to be on the mend. The ambrosia had done its work. Now, rather than looking as if she was at death’s door, she merely looked as if she’d been run over by a pack of mules.
The waves lapped at Annabeth’s feet, helping her relax, but still she felt a residual disquiet from her encounter with Serapis – a humming in her body, as if all her bones had become tuning forks.
‘You mentioned a name,’ she recalled. ‘Setne?’
Sadie wrinkled her nose. ‘Long story. Evil magician, back from the dead.’
‘Oh, I hate it when evil people come back from the dead. You said … you allowed him to go free?’
‘Well, my brother and I needed his help. At the time, we didn’t have much choice. At any rate, Setne escaped with the Book of Thoth, the most dangerous collection of spells in the world.’
‘And Setne used that magic to awaken Serapis.’
‘Stands to reason.’ Sadie shrugged. ‘The crocodile monster my brother and your boyfriend fought a while ago, the Son of Sobek … I wouldn’t be surprised if that was another of Setne’s experiments. He’s trying to combine Greek and Egyptian magic.’
After the day she’d just had, Annabeth wanted to put her invisibility cap back on, crawl into a hole and sleep forever. She’d saved the world enough times already. She didn’t want to think about another potential threat. Yet she couldn’t ignore it. She fingered the brim of her Yankees cap and thought about why her mother had given it back to her today – its magic restored.
Athena seemed to be sending a message: There will always be threats too powerful to face head-on. You are not done with stealth. You must tread carefully here.
‘Setne wants to be a god,’ Annabeth said.
The wind off the water suddenly turned cold. It smelled less like fresh sea air, more like burning ruins.
‘A god …’ Sadie shuddered. ‘That scrawny old codger with the loincloth and Elvis hair. What a horrible thought.’
Annabeth tried to picture the guy Sadie was describing. Then she decided she didn’t want to.
‘If Setne’s goal is immortality,’ Annabeth said, ‘waking Serapis won’t be his last trick.’
Sadie laughed without humour. ‘Oh, no. He’s only playing with us now. The Son of Sobek … Serapis. I’d wager that Setne planned both events just to see what would happen, how the demigods and magicians would react. He’s testing his new magic, and our capabilities, before he makes his real bid for power.’
‘He can’t succeed,’ Annabeth said hopefully. ‘No one can make themselves a god just by casting a spell.’
Sadie’s expression wasn’t reassuring. ‘I hope you’re right. Because a god who knows both Greek and Egyptian magic, who can control both worlds … I can’t even imagine.’
Annabeth’s stomach twisted as if it were learning a new yoga position. In any war, good planning was more important than sheer power. If this Setne had orchestrated Percy and Carter’s battle with that crocodile, if he’d engineered Serapis’s rise so Sadie and Annabeth would be drawn to confront him … An enemy who planned so well would be very hard to stop.
She dug her toes into the sand. ‘Serapis said something else before he disappeared – you will never attain the crown. I thought he meant it like a metaphor. Then I remembered what he said about Ptolemy I, the king who tried to become a god –’
‘The crown of immortality,’ Sadie recalled. ‘Maybe a pschent.’
Annabeth frowned. ‘I don’t know that word. A shent?’
Sadie spelled it. ‘An Egyptian crown, looks rather like a bowling pin. Not a lovely fashion statement, but the pschent invested the pharaoh with his divine power. If Setne is trying to recreate the old king’s god-making magic, I bet five quid and a plate of Gran’s burnt scones that he’s trying to find the crown of Ptolemy.’
Annabeth decided not to take that bet. ‘We have to stop him.’
‘Right.’ Sadie sipped her Ribena. ‘I’ll go back to Brooklyn House. After I smack my brother for not confiding in me about you demigod types, I’ll put our researchers to work and see what we can learn about Ptolemy. Perhaps his crown is sitting in a museum somewhere.’ Sadie curled her lip. ‘Though I do hate museums.’
Annabeth traced her finger through the sand. Without really thinking about it, she drew the hieroglyphic symbol for Isis: the tyet. ‘I’ll do some research, too. My friends in the Hecate cabin may know something about Ptolemy’s magic. Maybe I can get my mom to advise me.’
Thinking about her mother made her uneasy.
Today, Serapis had been on the verge of destroying both Annabeth and Sadie. He’d threatened to use them as gateways to draw Athena and Isis to their doom.
Sadie’s eyes were stormy, as if she were thinking the same thoughts. ‘We can’t let Setne keep experimenting. He’ll rip our worlds apart. We have to find this crown, or –’
She glanced into the sky and her voice faltered. ‘Ah, my ride is here.’
Annabeth turned. For a moment she thought the Argo II was descending from the clouds, but this was a different kind of flying boat – a smaller Egyptian reed barque with painted eyes on the prow and a single white sail emblazoned with the tyet symbol.
It settled gently at the edge of the surf.
Sadie rose and brushed the sand off her trousers. ‘Give you a lift home?’
Annabeth tried to imagine a boat like this sailing into Camp Half-Blood. ‘Um, it’s okay. I can make it back.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Sadie shouldered her pack, then helped Annabeth up. ‘You say Carter drew a hieroglyph on your boyfriend’s hand. All well and good, but I’d rather stay in touch with you directly.’
Annabeth smirked. ‘You’re right. Can’t trust boy
s to communicate.’
They exchanged cell-phone numbers.
‘Just don’t call unless it’s urgent,’ Annabeth warned. ‘Cell-phone activity attracts monsters.’
Sadie looked surprised. ‘Really? Never noticed. I suppose I shouldn’t send you any funny-face selfies on Instagram, then.’
‘Probably not.’
‘Well, until next time.’ Sadie threw her arms round Annabeth.
Annabeth was a little shocked to be getting a hug from a girl she’d just met – a girl who could just as easily have seen Annabeth as an enemy. But the gesture made her feel good. In life-and-death situations, Annabeth had learned, you could make friends pretty quickly.
She patted Sadie’s shoulder. ‘Stay safe.’
‘Hardly ever.’ Sadie climbed in her boat, and it pushed out to sea. Fog rose out of nowhere, thickening around the vessel. When the mist cleared, the ship and Sadie Kane were gone.
Annabeth stared at the empty ocean. She thought about the Mist and the Duat and how they were connected.
Mostly she thought about the staff of Serapis, and the howl the black dog had made when she’d stabbed it with her dagger.
‘That wasn’t my future I destroyed,’ she assured herself. ‘I make my own future.’
But somewhere out there a magician named Setne had other ideas. If Annabeth was going to stop him, she had planning to do.
She turned and set out across the beach, heading east on the long journey back to Camp Half-Blood.
‘Carter!’ I shouted.
Nothing happened.
Next to me, pressed against the wall of the old fort, Annabeth peered into the rain, waiting for magical teenagers to fall out of the sky.
‘Are you doing it right?’ she asked me.
‘Gee, I dunno. I’m pretty sure his name is pronounced Carter.’
‘Try tapping the hieroglyph multiple times.’
‘That’s stupid.’
‘Just try it.’
I stared at my hand. There wasn’t even a trace of the hieroglyph that Carter Kane had drawn on my palm almost two months back. He’d assured me that the magic couldn’t be washed away, but, with my luck, I’d accidentally wiped it off on my jeans or something.
