The Complete Kane Chronicles (38 page)

The trench looked easy enough to jump, but I wasn’t anxious to do so because inside the room, the entire floor was carved with red hieroglyphs—all spells invoking the power of Isfet, chaos. Far above in the center of the ceiling, a single square hole let in blood-red light. Otherwise, there seemed to be no exits. Along either wall crouched four obsidian statues of the Set animal, their faces turned towards us with pearl teeth bared and emerald eyes glittering.

But the worst part was the throne itself. It was a horrid misshapen thing, like a red stalagmite that had grown haphazardly from centuries of dripping sediment. And it had formed itself around a gold coffin—
Dad’s
coffin—which was buried in the throne’s base, with just enough of it sticking out to form a kind of footrest.

“How do we get him out?” I said, my voice trembling.

Next to me, Carter caught his breath. “Amos?”

I followed his gaze up to the glowing red vent in the middle of the ceiling. A pair of legs dangled from the opening. Then Amos dropped down, opening his cloak like a parachute so that he floated to the floor. His clothes were still smoking, his hair dusted with ash. He pointed his staff towards the ceiling and spoke a command. The shaft he’d come through rumbled, spilling dust and rubble, and the light was abruptly cut off.

Amos dusted off his clothes and smiled at us. “That should hold them for a while.”

“How did you do that?” I asked.

He gestured for us to join him in the room.

Carter jumped the trench without hesitation. I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to let him go without me, so I hopped the trench too. Immediately I felt even queasier than before, as if the room were tilting, throwing my senses off balance.

Zia came over last, eyeing Amos carefully.

“You should not be alive,” she said.

Amos chuckled. “Oh, I’ve heard that before. Now, let’s get to business.”

“Yes.” I stared at the throne. “How do we get the coffin out?”

“Cut it?” Carter drew his sword, but Amos held up his hand.

“No, children. That’s not the business I mean. I’ve made sure no one will interrupt us. Now it’s time we talked.”

A cold tingle started up my spine. “Talked?”

Suddenly Amos fell to his knees and began to convulse. I ran towards him, but he looked up at me, his face racked with pain. His eyes were molten red.

“Run!”
he groaned.

He collapsed, and red steam issued from his body.

“We have to go!” Zia grabbed my arm.
“Now!”

But I watched, frozen in horror, as the steam rose from Amos’s unconscious form and drifted towards the throne, slowly taking the shape of a seated man—a red warrior in fiery armor, with an iron staff in his hand and the head of a canine monster.

“Oh, dear,” Set laughed. “I suppose Zia gets to say ‘I told you so.’”

C A R T E R

MAYBE I’M A SLOW LEARNER, OKAY?

Because it wasn’t until that moment, facing the god Set in the middle of his throne room, in the heart of an evil pyramid, with an army of demons outside and the world about to explode, that I thought,
Coming here was a really
bad
idea.

Set rose from his throne. He was red skinned and muscular, with fiery armor and a black iron staff. His head shifted from bestial to human. One moment he had the hungry stare and slavering jaws of my old friend Leroy, the monster from the D.C. airport. The next he had sandy hair and a handsome but harsh face, with intelligent eyes that sparkled with humor and a cruel, crooked smile. He kicked our uncle out of the way and Amos groaned, which at least meant he was alive.

I was clenching my sword so tight, the blade trembled.

“Zia was right,” I said. “You possessed Amos.”

Set spread his hands, trying to look modest. “Well, you know… It wasn’t a
full
possession. Gods can exist in many places at once, Carter. Horus could tell you that if he was being honest. I’m sure Horus has been looking for a nice war monument to occupy, or a military academy somewhere—anything but that scrawny little form of yours. Most of my being has now transferred to this magnificent structure.”

He swept his arm proudly around the throne room. “But a sliver of my soul was quite enough to control Amos Kane.”

He held out his pinky, and a wisp of red smoke snaked toward Amos, sinking into his clothes. Amos arched his back like he’d been hit by lightning.

“Stop it!” I yelled.

I ran toward Amos, but the red mist had already dissipated. Our uncle’s body went slack.

Set dropped his hand as if bored with the attack. “Not much left, I’m afraid. Amos fought well. He was very entertaining, demanding much more of my energy than I had anticipated. That chaos magic—that was
his
idea. He tried his best to warn you, to make it obvious I was controlling him. The funny thing is, I forced him to use his own magic reserves to pull off those spells. He almost burned out his soul trying to send you those warning flares. Turn you into a storm? Please. Who does that anymore?”

“You’re a beast!” Sadie shouted.

Set gasped in mock surprise. “Really? Me?”

Then he roared with laughter as Sadie tried to drag Amos out of harm’s way.

“Amos was in London that night,” I said, hoping to keep his attention on me. “He must’ve followed us to the British Museum, and you’ve been controlling him ever since. Desjardins was never your host.”

“Oh, that commoner? Please,” Set sneered. “We always prefer blood of the pharaohs, as I’m sure you’ve heard. But I did love fooling you. I thought the
bon soir
was an especially nice touch.”

“You knew my
ba
was there, watching. You forced Amos to sabotage his own house so your monsters could get in. You made him walk into an ambush. Why didn’t you just have him kidnap us?”

Set spread his hands. “As I said, Amos put up a good fight. There were certain things I could not make him do without destroying him completely, and I didn’t want to ruin my new plaything quite so soon.”

Anger burned inside me. Amos’s odd behavior finally made sense. Yes, he had been controlled by Set, but he’d been fighting it all the way. The conflict I’d felt in him had been his attempts to warn us. He’d almost destroyed himself trying to save us, and Set had thrown him aside like a broken toy.

Give me control,
Horus urged.
We will avenge him.

I’ve got this,
I said.

No!
Horus said.
You must let me. You are not ready.

Set laughed as if he could sense our struggle. “Oh, poor Horus. Your host needs training wheels. You seriously expect to challenge me with
that
?”

For the first time, Horus and I had the same feeling at exactly the same moment:
rage.

Without thinking, we raised our hand, extending our energy toward Set. A glowing fist slammed into him, and the Red God flew backward with such force, he cracked a column, which tumbled down on top of him.

For a heartbeat, the only sound was the trickle of dust and debris. Then out of the rubble came a deep howl of laughter. Set rose from the ruins, tossing aside a huge chunk of stone.

“Nice!” he roared. “Completely ineffective, but nice! It will be a pleasure chopping you to bits, Horus, as I did your father before you. I will entomb you all in this chamber to increase my storm—all four of my precious siblings, and the storm will be large enough to envelop the world!”

I blinked, momentarily losing my focus. “Four?”

“Oh, yes.” Set’s eyes drifted to Zia, who had quietly retreated to one side of the room. “I haven’t forgotten you, my dear.”

Zia glanced at me in desperation. “Carter, don’t worry about me. He’s trying to distract you.”

“Lovely goddess,” Set purred. “The form does not do you justice, but your choices were limited, weren’t they?”

Set moved toward her, his staff beginning to glow.

“No!” I shouted. I advanced, but Set was just as good at magical shoving as I was. He pointed at me, and I slammed against the wall, pinned as if an entire football team were holding me down.

“Carter!” Sadie cried. “She’s Nephthys. She can take care of herself!”

“No.” All my instincts told me Zia couldn’t be Nephthys. At first I’d thought so, but the more I considered, the more it seemed wrong. I felt no divine magic from her, and something told me I would have if she were really hosting a goddess.

Set would crush her unless I helped. But if Set was trying to distract me, it was working. As he stalked toward Zia, I struggled against his magic, but I couldn’t free myself. The more I tried to combine my power with Horus’s, the way I’d done before, the more my fear and panic got in the way.

You must yield to me!
Horus insisted, and the two of us wrestled for control of my mind, which gave me a splitting headache.

Set took another step toward Zia.

“Ah, Nephthys,” he crooned. “At the beginning of time, you were my treacherous sister. In another incarnation, in another age, you were my treacherous wife. Now, I think you’ll make a nice appetizer. True, you’re the weakest of us all, but you’re still one of the five, and there
is
power in collecting the complete set.”

He paused, then grinned. “The complete Set! That’s funny! Now let’s consume your energy and entomb your soul, shall we?”

Zia thrust out her wand. A red sphere of defensive energy glowed around her, but even I could tell it was weak. Set shot a blast of sand from his staff and the sphere collapsed. Zia stumbled backward, the sand ripping at her hair and clothes. I struggled to move, but Zia yelled, “Carter, I’m not important! Stay focused! Don’t resist!”

She raised her staff and shouted, “The House of Life!”

She launched a bolt of fire at Set—an attack that must have cost all of her remaining energy. Set batted the flames aside, straight at Sadie, who had to raise her wand quickly to protect herself and Amos from getting fried. Set tugged at the air as if pulling an invisible rope, and Zia flew toward him like a rag doll, straight into his hand.

Don’t resist.
How could Zia say that? I resisted like crazy, but it didn’t do me any good. All I could do was stare helplessly as Set lowered his face to Zia’s and examined her.

At first Set seemed triumphant, gleeful, but his expression quickly turned to confusion. He scowled, his eyes flaring.

“What trick is this?” he growled. “Where have you hidden her?”

“You will not possess her,” Zia managed, her breath choked off by his grip.

“Where
is
she?” He threw Zia aside.

She slammed against the wall and would’ve slid into the moat, but Sadie yelled “Wind!” and a gust of air lifted Zia’s body just enough for her to tumble onto the floor.

Sadie ran over and dragged her away from the glowing trench.

Set roared, “Is this your trickery, Isis?” He sent another blast of sandstorm against them, but Sadie held up her wand. The storm met a shield of force that deflected the wind around it—the sand pitted the walls behind Sadie, making a halo-shaped scar in the rock.

I didn’t understand what Set was so angry about, but I couldn’t allow him to hurt Sadie.

Seeing her alone, protecting Zia from the wrath of a god, something inside me clicked, like an engine shifting into higher gear. My thinking suddenly became faster and clearer. The anger and fear didn’t go away, but I realized they weren’t important. They weren’t going to help me save my sister.

Don’t resist,
Zia had told me.

She didn’t mean resisting Set. She meant Horus. The falcon god and I had been wrestling with each other for days as he tried to take control of my body.

But
neither
of us could be in control. That was the answer. We had to act in unison, trust each other completely, or we were both dead.

Yes,
Horus thought, and he stopped pushing. I stopped resisting, letting our thoughts flow together. I understood his power, his memories, and his fears. I saw every host he had ever been over a thousand lifetimes. And he saw my mind—everything, even the stuff I wasn’t proud of.

It’s hard to describe the feeling. And I knew from Horus’s memory that this kind of union was
very
rare—like the one time when the coin doesn’t land heads
or
tails, but stands on its edge, perfectly balanced. He did not control me. I did not use him for power. We acted as one.

Our voices spoke in harmony: “Now.”

And the magic bonds that held us shattered.

My combat avatar formed around me, lifting me off the floor and encasing me with golden energy. I stepped forward and raised my sword. The falcon warrior mimicked the movement, perfectly attuned to my wishes.

Set turned and regarded me with cold eyes.

“So, Horus,” he said. “You managed to find the pedals of your little bike, eh? That does not mean you can ride.”

“I am Carter Kane,” I said. “Blood of the Pharaohs, Eye of Horus. And now, Set—brother, uncle, traitor—I’m going to crush you like a gnat.”

C A R T E R

IT WAS A FIGHT TO THE DEATH
, and I felt great.

Every move was perfect. Every strike was so much fun I wanted to laugh out loud. Set grew in size until he was larger than me, and his iron staff the size of a boat’s mast. His face would flicker, sometimes human, sometimes the feral maw of the Set animal.

We clashed sword against staff and sparks flew. He pushed me off balance, and I smashed into one of his animal statues, which toppled to the floor and broke. I regained my balance and charged, my blade biting into a chink of Set’s shoulder guard. He howled as black blood seeped from the wound.

He swung his staff, and I rolled before the strike could split my head. His staff cracked the floor instead. We fought back and forth, smashing pillars and walls, with chunks of the ceiling falling around us, until I realized Sadie was yelling to get my attention.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her trying to shield Zia and Amos from the destruction. She’d drawn a hasty protective circle on the floor, and her shields were deflecting the falling debris, but I understood why she was worried: much more of this, and the entire throne room would collapse, crushing all of us. I doubted it would hurt Set much. He was probably counting on that. He
wanted
to entomb us here.

I had to get him into the open. Maybe if I gave Sadie time, she could free Dad’s coffin from that throne.

Then I remembered how Bast had described her fight with Apophis: grappling with the enemy for eternity.

Yes,
Horus agreed.

I raised my fist and channeled a burst of energy toward the air vent above us, blasting it open until red light once again poured through. Then I dropped my sword and launched myself at Set. I grabbed his shoulders with my bare hands, trying to get him in a wrestler’s hold. He attempted to pummel me, but his staff was useless at close range. He growled and dropped the weapon, then grabbed my arms. He was much stronger than I was, but Horus knew some good moves. I twisted and got behind Set, my forearm slipping under his arm and grabbing his neck in a vise. We stumbled forward, almost stepping on Sadie’s protective shields.

Now we’ve got him,
I thought.
What do we do with him?

Ironically, it was Amos who gave me the answer. I remembered how he’d turned me into a storm, overcoming my sense of self by sheer mental force. Our minds had had a brief battle, but he had imposed his will with absolute confidence, imagining me as a storm cloud, and that’s what I’d become.

You’re a fruit bat,
I told Set.

No!
his mind yelled, but I had surprised him. I could feel his confusion, and I used it against him. It was easy to imagine him as a bat, since I’d seen Amos become one when he was possessed by Set. I pictured my enemy shrinking, growing leathery wings and an even uglier face. I shrank too, until I was a falcon with a fruit bat in my claws. No time to waste; I shot toward the air vent, wrestling with the bat as we spun in circles up the shaft, slashing and biting. Finally we burst into the open, reverting to our warrior forms on the side of the red pyramid.

I stood uneasily on the slope. My avatar shimmered with damage along the right arm, and my own arm was cut and bleeding in the same spot. Set rose, wiping black blood from his mouth.

He grinned at me, and his face flickered with the snarl of a predator. “You can die knowing you made a good effort, Horus. But it’s much too late. Look.”

I gazed out over the cavern, and my heart crawled into my throat. The army of demons had engaged a new enemy in battle. Magicians—dozens of them—had appeared in a loose circle around the pyramid and were fighting their way forward. The House of Life must have gathered all its available forces, but they were pathetically few against Set’s legions. Each magician stood inside a moving protective circle, like a spotlight beam, wading through the enemy with staff and wand glowing. Flames, lightning, and tornadoes ripped through the demon host. I spotted all kinds of summoned beasts—lions, serpents, sphinxes, and even some hippos charging through the enemy like tanks. Here and there, hieroglyphs glowed in the air, causing explosions and earthquakes that destroyed Set’s forces. But more demons just kept coming, surrounding the magicians in deeper and deeper ranks. I watched as one magician was completely overwhelmed, his circle broken in a flash of green light, and he went down under the enemy wave.

“This is the end of the House,” Set said with satisfaction. “They cannot prevail as long as my pyramid stands.”

The magicians seemed to know this. As they got closer, they sent fiery comets and bolts of lightning toward the pyramid; but each blast dissipated harmlessly against its stone slopes, consumed in the red haze of Set’s power.

Then I spotted the golden capstone. Four snake-headed giants had retrieved it and were carrying it slowly but steadily through the melee. Set’s lieutenant Face of Horror shouted orders to them, lashing them with a whip to keep them moving. They pressed forward until they reached the pyramid’s base and began to climb.

I charged toward them, but Set intervened in an instant, placing himself in my path.

“I don’t think so, Horus,” he laughed. “You won’t ruin this party.”

We both summoned our weapons to our hands and fought with renewed ferocity, slicing and dodging. I brought my sword down in a deadly arc, but Set ducked aside and my blade hit stone, sending a shock wave through my whole body. Before I could recover, Set spoke a word:
“Ha-wi!”

Strike.

The hieroglyphs exploded in my face and sent me tumbling down the side of the pyramid.

When my vision cleared, I saw Face of Horror and the snake-headed giants far above me, lugging their golden load up the side of the monument, only a few steps from the top.

“No,” I muttered. I tried to rise, but my avatar form was sluggish.

Then out of nowhere a magician catapulted into the midst of the demons and unleashed a gale of wind. Demons went flying, dropping the capstone, and the magician struck it with his staff, stopping it from sliding. The magician was Desjardins. His forked beard and robes and leopard-skin cape were singed with fire, and his eyes were full of rage. He pressed his staff against the capstone, and its golden shape began to glow; but before Desjardins could destroy it, Set rose up behind him and swung his iron rod like a baseball bat.

Desjardins tumbled, broken and unconscious, all the way down the pyramid, disappearing into the mob of demons. My heart twisted. I’d never liked Desjardins, but no one deserved a fate like that.

“Annoying,” Set said. “But not effective. This is what the House of Life has reduced itself to, eh, Horus?”

I charged up the slope, and again our weapons clanged together. We fought back and forth as gray light began to seep through the cracks in the mountain above us.

Horus’s keen senses told me we had about two minutes until sunrise, maybe less.

Horus’s energy kept surging through me. My avatar was only mildly damaged, my attacks still swift and strong. But it wasn’t enough to defeat Set, and Set knew it. He was in no hurry. With every minute, another magician went down on the battlefield, and chaos got closer to winning.

Patience,
Horus urged.
We fought him for seven years the first time.

But I knew we didn’t have seven minutes, much less seven years. I wished Sadie were here, but I could only hope she’d managed to free Dad and keep Zia and Amos safe.

That thought distracted me. Set swept his staff at my feet, and instead of jumping, I tried to back up. The blow cracked against my right ankle, knocking me off balance and sending me somersaulting down the pyramid’s side.

Set laughed. “Have a nice trip!” Then he picked up the capstone.

I rose, groaning, but my feet were like lead. I staggered up the slope, but before I’d closed even half the distance, Set placed the capstone and completed the structure. Red light flowed down the sides of the pyramid with a sound like the world’s largest bass guitar, shaking the entire mountain and making my whole body go numb.

“Thirty seconds to sunrise!” Set yelled with glee. “And this land will be mine forever. You can’t stop me alone, Horus—especially not in the desert, the source of my strength!”

“You’re right,” said a nearby voice.

I glanced over and saw Sadie rising from the air vent—radiant with multicolored light, her staff and wand glowing.

“Except Horus is
not
alone,” she said. “And we’re
not
going to fight you in the desert.”

She struck her staff against the pyramid and shouted a name: the last words I’d ever expect her to utter as a battle cry.