The Complete Kane Chronicles (74 page)

“Shiny,” Ra said.

“Three blue pieces for you,” Khonsu said. “Three silver pieces for me. Now, who’s feeling lucky?”

The game started well enough. Sadie had skill at tossing the sticks. Bes had several thousand years of gaming experience. And I got the job of moving the pieces and making sure Ra didn’t eat them.

At first it wasn’t obvious who was winning. We just rolled and moved, and it was hard to believe we were playing for our souls, or true names, or whatever you want to call them.

We bumped one of Khonsu’s pieces back to start, but he didn’t seem upset. He seemed delighted by just about everything.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked at one point. “Devouring innocent souls?”

“Not really.” He polished his crescent amulet. “Why should it?”

“But we’re trying to save the world,” Sadie said, “Ma’at, the gods—everything. Don’t you care if the world crumbles into Chaos?”

“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Khonsu said. “Change comes in phases, Ma’at and Chaos, Chaos and Ma’at. Being the moon god, I appreciate variation. Now, Ra, poor guy—he always stuck to a schedule. Same path every night. So predictable and boring. Retiring was the most interesting thing he ever did. If Apophis takes over and swallows the sun, well—I suppose the moon will still be there.”

“You’re insane,” Sadie said.

“Ha! I’ll bet you five extra minutes of moonlight that I’m perfectly sane.”

“Forget it,” Sadie said. “Just roll.”

Khonsu tossed the sticks. The bad news: he made alarming progress. He rolled a five and got one of his pieces almost to the end of the board. The good news: the piece got stuck at the House of Three Truths, which meant he could only roll a three to get it out.

Bes studied the board intently. He didn’t seem to like what he saw. We had one piece way back at the start and two pieces on the last row of the board.

“Careful now,” Khonsu warned. “This is where it gets interesting.”

Sadie rolled a four, which gave us two options. Our lead piece could go out. Or our second piece could bump Khonsu’s piece from the House of Three Truths and send it back to Start.

“Bump him,” I said. “It’s safer.”

Bes shook his head. “Then
we’re
stuck in the House of Three Truths. The chances of him rolling a three are slim. Take your first piece out. That way you’ll be assured of at least one extra hour.”

“But one extra hour won’t do it,” Sadie said.

Khonsu seemed to be enjoying our indecision. He sipped wine from a silvery goblet and smiled. Meanwhile Ra entertained himself by trying to pick the spikes off his war flail. “Ow, ow, ow.”

My forehead beaded with sweat. How was I sweating in a
board
game? “Bes, are you sure?”

“It’s your best bet,” he said.

“
Bes
best?” Khonsu chuckled. “Nice!”

I wanted to smack the moon god, but I kept my mouth shut. I moved our first piece out of play.

“Congratulations!” Khonsu said. “I owe you one hour of moonlight. Now it’s my turn.”

He tossed the sticks. They clattered on the dining table, and I felt like someone had snipped an elevator cable in my chest, plunging my heart straight down a shaft. Khonsu had rolled a three.

“Whoopsie!” Ra dropped his flail.

Khonsu moved his piece out of play. “Oh, what a shame. Now, whose
ren
do I collect first?”

“No, please!” Sadie said. “Trade back. Take the hour you owe us instead.”

“Those aren’t the rules,” Khonsu chided.

I looked down at the gouge I’d made in the table when I was eight. I knew that memory was about to disappear, like all my others. If I gave my
ren
to Khonsu, at least Sadie could still cast the final part of the spell. She would need Bes to protect her and advise her. I was the only expendable one.

I started to say, “I—”

“Me,” said Bes. “The move was my idea.”

“Bes, no!” Sadie cried.

The dwarf stood. He planted his feet and balled his fists, like he was getting ready to let loose with a BOO. I wished he’d do that and scare away Khonsu, but instead he looked at us with resignation. “It was part of the strategy, kids.”

“What?” I asked. “You
planned
this?”

He slipped off his Hawaiian shirt and folded it carefully, setting it on the table. “Most important thing is getting all three of your pieces off the board, and losing no more than one. This was the only way to do it. You’ll beat him easily now. Sometimes you have to lose a piece to win a game.”

“So true,” Khonsu said. “What a delight! A god’s
ren.
Are you ready, Bes?”

“Bes, don’t,” I pleaded. “This isn’t right.”

He scowled at me. “Hey, kid,
you
were willing to sacrifice. Are you saying I’m not as brave as some pipsqueak magician? Besides, I’m a god. Who knows? Sometimes we come back. Now, win the game and get out of here. Kick Menshikov in the knee for me.”

I tried to think of something to say, something that would stop this, but Bes said, “I’m ready.”

Khonsu closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, like he was enjoying some fresh mountain air. Bes’s form flickered. He dissolved into a montage of lightning-fast images—a troupe of dwarves dancing at a temple in the firelight; a crowd of Egyptians partying at a festival, carrying Bes and Bast on their shoulders; Bes and Tawaret in togas at some Roman villa, eating grapes and laughing together on a sofa; Bes dressed like George Washington in a powdered wig and silk suit, doing cartwheels in front of some British redcoats; Bes in the olive fatigues of a U.S. Marine, scaring away a demon in a World War II Nazi uniform.

As his silhouette melted, more recent images flickered past: Bes in a chauffeur’s uniform with a placard that read
KANE
; Bes pulling us out of our sinking limo in the Mediterranean; Bes casting spells on me in Alexandria when I was poisoned, trying desperately to heal me; Bes and me in the back of the Bedouins’ pickup truck, sharing goat meat and Vaseline-flavored water as we traveled along the bank of the Nile. His last memory: two kids, Sadie and me, looking at him with love and concern. Then the image faded, and Bes was gone. Even his Hawaiian shirt had disappeared.

“You took all of him!” I yelled. “His body—everything. That wasn’t the deal!”

Khonsu opened his eyes and sighed deeply. “That was lovely.” He smiled at us as if nothing had happened. “I believe it’s your turn.”

His silver eyes were cold and luminous, and I had a feeling that for the rest of my life, I would hate looking at the moon.

Maybe it was rage, or Bes’s strategy, or maybe we just got lucky, but the rest of the game Sadie and I destroyed Khonsu easily. We bumped his pieces at every opportunity. Within five minutes, our last piece was off the board.

Khonsu spread his hands. “Well done! Three hours are yours. If you hurry, you can make the gates of the Eighth House.”

“I hate you,” Sadie said. It was the first she’d spoken since Bes disappeared. “You’re cold, calculating, horrible—”

“And I’m just what you needed.” Khonsu took off his platinum Rolex and wound back the time—one, two, three hours. All around us, the statues of the gods flickered and jumped like the world was being slammed into reverse.

“Now,” Khonsu said, “would you like to spend your hard-earned time complaining? Or do you want to save this poor old fool of a king?”

“Zebras?” Ra muttered hopefully.

“Where are our parents?” I asked. “At least let us say good-bye.”

Khonsu shook his head. “Time is precious, Carter Kane. You should’ve learned that lesson. It’s best that I send you on your way; but if you ever want to gamble with me again—for seconds, hours, even days—just let me know. Your credit is good.”

I couldn’t stand it. I lunged at Khonsu, but the moon god vanished. The whole pavilion faded, and Sadie and I were standing on the deck of the sun boat again, sailing down the dark river. The glowing crew lights buzzed around us, manning the oars and trimming the sail. Ra sat on his fiery throne, playing with his crook and flail like they were puppets having an imaginary conversation.

In front of us, a pair of enormous stone gates loomed out of the darkness. Eight massive snakes were carved into the rock, four on each side. The gates were slowly closing, but the sun boat slipped through just in time, and we passed into the Eighth House.

I have to say, the House of Challenges didn’t seem very challenging. We fought monsters, yes. Serpents loomed out of the river. Demons arose. Ships full of ghosts tried to board the sun boat. We destroyed them all. I was so angry, so devastated at losing Bes, that I imagined every threat was the moon god Khonsu. Our enemies didn’t stand a chance.

Sadie cast spells I’d never seen her use. She summoned sheets of ice that probably matched her emotions, leaving several demon icebergs in our wake. She turned an entire shipful of pirate ghosts into Khonsu bobble-heads, then vaporized them in a miniature nuclear explosion. Meanwhile, Ra played happily with his toys while the light servants flittered around the deck in agitation, apparently sensing that our journey was reaching a critical phase. The Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh Houses passed in a blur. From time to time I heard a splash in the water behind us, like the oar of another boat. I looked back, wondering if Menshikov had somehow gotten on our tail again, but I didn’t see anything. If something
was
following us, it knew better than to show itself.

At last I heard a roar up ahead, like another waterfall or a stretch of rapids. The light orbs worked furiously taking down the sail, pushing on the oars, but we kept gaining speed.

We passed under a low archway carved like the goddess Nut, her starry limbs stretched out protectively and her face smiling in welcome. I got the feeling we were entering the Twelfth House, the last part of the Duat before we emerged into a new dawn.

I hoped to see light at the end of the tunnel, literally, but instead our path had been sabotaged. I could see where the river was
supposed
to go. The tunnel continued ahead, slowly winding out of the Duat. I could even smell fresh air—the scent of the mortal world. But the far end of the tunnel had been drained to a field of mud. In front of us, the river plunged into a massive pit, like an asteroid had punched a hole in the earth and diverted the water straight down. We were racing toward the drop.

“We could jump,” Sadie said. “Abandon ship…”

But I think we came to the same conclusion. We needed the sun boat. We needed Ra. We had to follow the course of the river wherever it led.

“It’s a trap,” Sadie said. “The work of Apophis.”

“I know,” I said. “Let’s go tell him we don’t like his work.”

We both grabbed the mast as the ship plunged into the maelstrom.

It seemed like we fell forever. You know the feeling when you dive to the bottom of a deep pool, like your nose and ears are going to explode, and your eyes are going to pop out of your head? Imagine that feeling a hundred times worse. We were sinking into the Duat deeper than we’d ever been—deeper than any mortal was supposed to go. The molecules of my body felt like they were heating up, buzzing so fast they might fly apart.

We didn’t crash. We didn’t hit bottom. The boat simply flipped direction, like down had become sideways, and we sailed into a cavern that glowed with harsh red light. The magical pressure was so intense that my ears rang. I was nauseated and I could barely think straight, but I recognized the shoreline up ahead: a beach made of millions of dead scarab shells, shifting and surging as a force underneath—a massive serpentine shape—struggled to break free. Dozens of demons were digging through the scarab shells with shovels. And standing on the shore, waiting for us patiently, was Vlad Menshikov, his clothes charred and smoking, his staff glowing with green fire.

“Welcome, children,” he called across the water. “Come. Join me for the end of the world.”

C A R T E R

M
ENSHIKOV LOOKED LIKE HE’D SWUM
through the Lake of Fire without a magic shield. His curly gray hair had been reduced to black stubble. His white suit was shredded and peppered with burn holes. His whole face was blistered, so his ruined eyes didn’t seem out of place. As Bes might’ve said, Menshikov was wearing his ugly outfit.

The memory of Bes made me angry. Everything we’d gone through, everything we’d lost, was all Vlad Menshikov’s fault.

The sun boat ground to a halt on the scarab-shell beach.

Ra warbled, “Hel-lo-o-o-o-o!” and stumbled to his feet. He began chasing a blue servant orb around the deck as if it were a pretty butterfly.

The demons dropped their shovels and assembled on the shore. They looked at each other uncertainly, no doubt wondering if this were some sort of clever trick. Surely this doddering old fool could not be the sun god.

“Wonderful,” Menshikov said. “You brought Ra, after all.”

It took me a moment to realize what was different about his voice. The gravelly breathing was gone. His tone was a deep, smooth baritone.

“I was worried,” he continued. “You took so long in the Fourth House, I thought you’d be trapped for the night. We could have freed Lord Apophis without you, of course, but it would’ve been so inconvenient to hunt you down later. This is much better. Lord Apophis will be hungry when he wakes. He’ll be most pleased that you brought him a snack.”

“Wheee, snack,” Ra giggled. He hobbled around the boat, trying to smash the servant light with his flail.

The demons began to laugh. Menshikov gave them an indulgent smile.

“Yes, quite amusing,” he said. “My grandfather entertained Peter the Great with a dwarf wedding. I will do even better. I will entertain the Lord of Chaos himself with a senile sun god!”

The voice of Horus spoke urgently in my mind:
Take back the weapons of the pharaoh. This is your last chance!

Deep inside, I knew it was a bad idea. If I claimed the weapons of the pharaoh now, I’d never return them. And the powers I’d gain wouldn’t be enough to defeat Apophis. Still, I was tempted. It would feel so good to grab the crook and flail from that stupid old god Ra and smash Menshikov into the ground.

The Russian’s eyes glittered with malice. “A rematch, Carter Kane? By all means. I notice you don’t have your dwarf babysitter this time. Let’s see what you can do on your own.”

My vision turned red, and it had nothing to do with the light in the cavern. I stepped off the boat and summoned the hawk god’s avatar. I’d never tried the spell so deep in the Duat before. I got more than I asked for. Instead of being encased in a glowing holograph, I felt myself growing taller and stronger. My eyesight grew sharper.

Sadie made a strangled sound. “Carter?”

“Large bird!” Ra said.

I looked down and found I was a flesh-and-blood giant, fifteen feet tall, dressed in the battle armor of Horus. I brought my enormous hands to my head and patted feathers instead of hair. My mouth was a razor-sharp beak. I shouted with elation, and it came out as a screech, echoing through the cavern. The demons scrambled back nervously. I looked down at Menshikov, who now seemed as insignificant as a mouse. I was ready to pulverize him, but Menshikov sneered and pointed his staff.

Whatever he was planning, Sadie was faster. She threw down her own staff, and it transformed into a kite (the bird of prey kind) as large as a pterodactyl.

Typical. I pull something really cool like morphing into a hawk warrior, and Sadie has to show me up. Her kite buffeted the air with its massive wings. Menshikov and his demons went somersaulting backward across the beach.

“Two large birds!” Ra started to clap.

“Carter, guard me!” Sadie pulled out the Book of Ra. “I need to start the spell.”

I thought the giant kite was doing a pretty good job with guard duty, but I stepped forward and got ready to fight.

Menshikov rose to his feet. “By all means, Sadie Kane, start your little spell. Don’t you understand? The spirit of Khepri
created
this prison. Ra gave part of his own soul, his ability to be reborn, to keep Apophis chained.”

Sadie looked like he’d slapped her in the face. “‘The last scarab—’”

“Exactly,” Menshikov agreed. “All these scarabs were multiplied from one—Khepri, the third soul of Ra. My demons will find it eventually, digging through the shells. It’s one of the only scarabs still alive now, and once we crush it, Apophis will be free. Even if you summon it back to Ra, Apophis will still be freed! Either way, Ra is too weak to fight. Apophis will devour him, as the ancient prophecies predicted, and Chaos will destroy Ma’at once and for all. You can’t win.”

“You’re insane,” I said, my voice much deeper than usual. “You’ll be destroyed too.”

I saw the fractured light in his eyes, and I realized something that shocked me to the core. Menshikov didn’t want this any more than we did. He’d lived with grief and despair so long that Apophis had twisted his soul, made him a prisoner of his own hateful feelings. Vladimir Menshikov pretended to gloat, but he didn’t feel any sense of triumph. Inside he was terrified, defeated, miserable. He was enslaved by Apophis. I almost felt sorry for him.

“We’re already dead, Carter Kane,” he said. “This place was never meant for humans. Don’t you feel it? The power of Chaos is seeping into our bodies, withering our souls. But I have bigger plans. A
host
can live indefinitely, no matter what sickness he may have, no matter how injured he may be.

Apophis has already healed my voice. Soon I will be whole again. I will live forever!”

“A host…” When I realized what he meant, I almost lost control of my new giant form. “You’re not serious. Menshikov, stop this before it’s too late.”

“And die?” he asked.

Behind me, a new voice said, “There are worse things than death, Vladimir.”

I turned and saw a second boat gliding toward the shore —a small gray skiff with a single magic oar that rowed itself. The eye of Horus was painted on the boat’s prow, and its lone passenger was Michel Desjardins. The Chief Lector’s hair and beard were now white as snow. Glowing hieroglyphs floated from his cream-colored robes, making a trail of divine words behind him.

Desjardins stepped ashore. “You toy with something
much
worse than death, my old friend. Pray that I kill you before you succeed.”

Of all the weird things I’d experienced that night, Desjardins stepping up to fight on
our
side was definitely the weirdest.

He walked between my giant hawk warrior and Sadie’s mega-kite like they were no big deal, and planted his staff in the dead scarabs.

“Surrender, Vladimir.”

Menshikov laughed. “Have you looked at yourself lately, my lord? My curses have been sapping your strength for months, and you didn’t even realize it. You’re nearly dead now.
I
am the most powerful magician in the world.”

It was true that Desjardins didn’t look good. His face was almost as gaunt and wrinkled as the sun god’s. But the cloud of hieroglyphs seemed stronger around him. His eyes blazed with intensity, just as they had months ago in New Mexico, when he’d battled us in the streets of Las Cruces and vowed to destroy us. He took another step forward, and the mob of demons edged away. I suppose they recognized the leopard-skin cape around his shoulders as a mark of power.

“I have failed in many things,” Desjardins admitted. “But I will not fail in this. I will
not
let you destroy the House of Life.”

“The House?” Menshikov’s voice turned shrill. “It died centuries ago! It should’ve been disbanded when Egypt fell.” He kicked at the dried scarab shells. “The House has as much life as these hollow bug husks. Wake up, Michel! Egypt is gone, meaningless, ancient history. It’s time to destroy the world and start anew. Chaos always wins.”

“Not always.” Desjardins turned to Sadie. “Begin your spell. I will deal with this wretch.”

The ground surged under us, trembling as Apophis tried to rise.

“Think first, children,” Menshikov warned. “The world will end no matter what you do. Mortals can’t leave this cavern alive, but the two of you have been godlings. Combine with Horus and Isis again, pledge to serve Apophis, and you could survive this night. Desjardins has always been your enemy. Slay him for me now and present his body as a gift to Apophis! I will assure you both positions of honor in a new world ruled by Chaos, unrestricted by any rules. I can even give you the secret of curing Walt Stone.”

He smiled at Sadie’s stunned expression. “Yes, my girl. I
do
know how. The remedy was passed down for generations among the priests of Amun-Ra. Kill Desjardins, join Apophis, and the boy you love will be spared.”

I’ll be honest. His words were persuasive. I could imagine a new world where anything was possible, where no laws applied, not even the laws of physics, and we could be anything we wanted.

Chaos is impatient. It’s random. And above all it’s selfish. It tears down everything just for the sake of change, feeding on itself in constant hunger. But Chaos can also be appealing. It tempts you to believe that nothing matters except what
you
want. And there was
so
much that I wanted. Menshikov’s restored voice was smooth and confident, like Amos’s tone whenever he used magic to persuade mortals.

That was the problem. Menshikov’s promise was a trick. His words weren’t even his own. They were being forced out of him. His eyes moved like they were reading a teleprompter. He spoke the will of Apophis, but when he finished he locked eyes with me, and just briefly I saw his real thoughts—a tortured plea he would’ve screamed if he had control of his own mouth:
Kill me now. Please.

“I’m sorry, Menshikov,” I said, and I sincerely meant it. “Magicians and gods have to stand together. The world may need fixing, but it’s worth preserving. We won’t let Chaos win.”

Then a lot of things happened at once. Sadie opened her scroll and began to read. Menshikov screamed, “Attack!” and the demons rushed forward. The giant kite spread its wings, deflecting a blast of green fire from Menshikov’s staff that probably would’ve incinerated Sadie on the spot. I charged to protect her, while Desjardins summoned a whirlwind around his body and flew toward Vlad Menshikov.

I waded through demons. I knocked over one with a razor-blade head, grabbed his ankles, and swung him around like a weapon, slicing his allies into piles of sand. Sadie’s giant kite picked up two more in its claws and tossed them into the river.

Meanwhile Desjardins and Menshikov rose into the air, locked inside a tornado. They whirled around each other, firing blasts of fire, poison, and acid. Demons who got too close melted instantly.

In the midst of all this, Sadie read from the Book of Ra. I didn’t know how she could concentrate, but her words rang out clear and loud. She invoked the dawn and the rise of a new day. Golden mist began to spread around her feet, weaving through the dried shells as if searching for life. The entire beach shuddered, and far underground, Apophis roared in outrage.

“Oh, noes!” Ra yelled behind me. “Vegetables!”

I turned and saw one of the largest demons boarding the sun boat, wicked knives in all four of his hands. Ra gave him the raspberry and scampered away, hiding behind his fiery throne.

I threw Razor-blade Head into a crowd of his friends, grabbed a spear from another demon, and threw it toward the boat.

If it had just been
me
throwing, my complete lack of long-shot skills might have caused me to impale the sun god, which would have been pretty embarrassing. Fortunately, my new giant form had aim worthy of Horus. The spear hit the four-armed demon square in the back. He dropped his knives, staggered to the edge of the boat, and fell into the River of Night.

Ra leaned over the side and gave him one last raspberry for good measure.

Desjardins’ tornado still spun him around, locked in combat with Menshikov. I couldn’t tell which magician had the upper hand. Sadie’s kite was doing its best to protect her, impaling demons with its beak and crushing them in its huge claws. Somehow Sadie kept her concentration. The golden mist thickened as it spread over the beach.

The remaining demons began to pull back as Sadie spoke the last words of her spell: “‘Khepri, the scarab who rises from death, the rebirth of Ra!’”

The Book of Ra vanished in a flash. The ground rumbled, and from the mass of dead shells, a single scarab rose into the air, a living golden beetle that floated toward Sadie and came to rest in her hands.

Sadie smiled triumphantly. I almost dared to hope we’d won. Then hissing laughter filled the cavern. Desjardins lost control of his whirlwind, and the Chief Lector went flying toward the sun boat, slamming into the prow so hard he broke the rail and lay absolutely still.

Vladimir Menshikov dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch. Around his feet, the dead scarab shells dissolved, turning into bloodred sand.

“Brilliant,” he said. “Brilliant, Sadie Kane!”

He stood, and all the magical energy in the cavern seemed to race toward his body—golden mist, red light, glowing hieroglyphs—all of it collapsing into Menshikov as if he’d taken on the gravity of a black hole.