“You’re welcome,” I croaked. “It looked like you needed help.”
“The demons?” Thoth waved dismissively. “They’ll be back just before sunrise. They’ve been attacking every six hours for the past week. Quite annoying.”
“Every six hours?” I tried to imagine that. If Thoth had been fighting off an army like that several times a day for a week…I didn’t see how even a god could have that much power.
“Where are the other gods?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they be helping you?”
Thoth wrinkled his nose as if he smelled a demon with intestinal problems. “Perhaps you and Walt should come inside. Now that you’re here, we have a lot to talk about.”
I’ll say this for Thoth. He knew how to decorate a pyramid.
The former arena’s basketball court was still there, no doubt so his baboons could play. (Baboons love basketball.) The JumboTron still hung from the ceiling, flashing a series of hieroglyphs that announced things like:
GO TEAM! DEFENSE!
and
THOTH
25—
DEMONS
0 in Ancient Egyptian.
The stadium seating had been replaced with a series of tiered balconies. Some were lined with computer stations, like mission control for a rocket launch. Others had chemistry tables cluttered with beakers, Bunsen burners, vials of smoking goo, jars of pickled organs, and stranger things. The nosebleed section was devoted to scroll cubbies—a library easily as big as the one in the First Nome. And behind the left backboard rose a three-story-tall whiteboard covered in computations and hieroglyphs.
Hanging from the girders, instead of championship banners and retired numbers, were black tapestries embroidered with gold incantations.
Courtside was Thoth’s living area—a freestanding gourmet kitchen, a plush collection of couches and easy chairs, piles of books, buckets of Legos and Tinker Toys, a dozen flat-screen TVs showing different news programs and documentaries, and a small forest of electric guitars and amplifiers—everything a scatterbrained god needed to be able to do twenty things at once.
Thoth’s baboons took Freak into the locker room to groom him and let him rest. I think they were worried he might eat the ibises, since they did look a bit like turkeys.
Thoth turned to Walt and me, looking us over critically. “You need rest. Then I’ll fix you some dinner.”
“We don’t have time,” I said. “We have to—”
“Carter Kane,” Thoth scolded. “You’ve just battled Apophis, gotten the Horus knocked out of you, been dragged through the Duat and half-strangled. You’re no good to anyone until you get some sleep.”
I wanted to protest, but Thoth pressed his hand to my forehead. Weariness washed over me.
“Rest,” Thoth insisted.
I collapsed on the nearest couch.
I’m not sure how long I slept, but Walt got up first. When I woke, he and Thoth were deep in conversation.
“No,” Thoth said. “It’s never been done. And I’m afraid you don’t have time.…” He faltered when he noticed me sitting up. “Ah. Good, Carter. You’re awake.”
“What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” he said, a little too cheerily. “Come and eat.”
His kitchen counter was laden with fresh-cut brisket, sausage, ribs, and cornbread, plus an industrial-sized dispenser of iced tea. Thoth had once told me that barbecue was a form of magic, and I guess he was right. The smell of food made me temporarily forget my troubles.
I scarfed down a brisket sandwich and drank two glasses of tea. Walt nibbled on a rib, but he didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.
Meanwhile Thoth picked up a Gibson guitar. He struck a power chord that shook the arena floor. He’d gotten better since I’d last heard him. The chord actually sounded like a chord, not like a mountain goat being tortured.
I gestured around with a piece of cornbread. “This place is looking good.”
Thoth chuckled. “Better than my last headquarters, eh?”
The first time Sadie and I had crossed paths with the god of knowledge, he’d been holed up at a local university campus. He had tested our worth by sending us on a quest to trash Elvis Presley’s house (long story), but hopefully we were past the testing phase now. I preferred hanging out courtside eating barbecue.
Then I thought about the visions Face of Horror had shown me—my mother in danger, a darkness swallowing the souls of the dead, the world dissolving in a sea of Chaos—except for one small island floating across the waves. The memory kind of killed my appetite.
“So…” I pushed my plate away. “Tell me about the demon attacks. And what were you saying to Walt?”
Walt stared at his half-eaten pork rib.
Thoth strummed a minor chord. “Where to start…? The attacks began seven days ago. I’m cut off from the other gods. They haven’t come to my rescue, I imagine, because they’re having similar problems. Divide and conquer—Apophis understands that basic military principle. Even if my brethren
could
help me…well, they have other priorities. Ra was recently brought back, as you may recall.”
Thoth gave me a hard look, like I was an equation he couldn’t balance. “The sun god must be guarded on his nightly journey. That takes a lot of godpower.”
My shoulders sagged. I didn’t need one more thing to feel guilty about. I also didn’t think it was fair of Thoth to act so critical of me. Thoth had been on our side, more or less, about bringing back the sun god. Maybe seven days of demon attacks had started to change his mind.
“Can’t you just leave?” I asked.
Thoth shook his head. “Perhaps you can’t see so deeply into the Duat, but the power of Apophis has completely encircled this pyramid. I am quite stuck.”
I gazed up at the arena’s ceiling, which suddenly seemed much lower. “Which means…we’re stuck too?”
Thoth waved aside the question. “
You
should be able to pass back through. The serpent’s net is designed to catch a god. You and Walt aren’t large or important enough to be caught.”
I wondered if that were true, or if Apophis was allowing me to come and go—to have the choice of surrendering Ra.
You interest me, Carter,
Apophis had said.
Yield to me, and
I will spare you.
I took a deep breath. “But, Thoth, if you’re on your own…I mean, how much longer can you last?”
The god brushed at his lab coat, which was covered with scribbles in a dozen languages. The word
time
fluttered off his sleeve. Thoth caught it, and suddenly he was checking a gold pocket watch.
“Let’s see. Judging from the weakening of the pyramid’s defenses and the rate at which my power is being expended, I’d say I could withstand nine more attacks, or just over two days, which would take us to dawn on the equinox. Ha! That can’t be a coincidence.”
“And then?” Walt asked.
“Then my pyramid will be breached. My minions will be killed. I’m guessing Doomsday will happen all over, in fact. The fall equinox would be a sensible time for Apophis to rise. He’ll probably cast me into the abyss, or possibly scatter my essence across the universe in a billion pieces. Hmm…the physics of a god’s death.” His pocket watch turned into a pen. He scribbled something on the neck of his guitar. “That would make an excellent research paper.”
“Thoth,” Walt prompted. “Tell Carter what you told me, about why you’re being targeted.”
“I thought that was obvious,” Thoth said. “Apophis wants to distract me from helping you. That
is
why you’ve come, isn’t it? To find out about the serpent’s shadow?”
For a moment I was too stunned to speak. “How did you know?”
“Please.”
Thoth played a Jimi Hendrix riff, then set down his guitar. “I
am
the god of knowledge. I knew sooner or later you’d come to the conclusion that your only hope of victory was a shadow execration.”
“A shadow execration,” I repeated. “That’s an actual spell with an actual name? It could work?”
“In theory.”
“And you didn’t volunteer this information—
why?
”
Thoth snorted. “Knowledge of any value can’t be given. It must be sought and earned. You’re a teacher now, Carter. You should know this.”
I wasn’t sure whether to strangle him or hug him. “So, I’m seeking the knowledge. I’m earning the knowledge. How do I defeat Apophis?”
“I’m so glad you asked!” Thoth beamed at me with his multicolored eyes. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you.”
I glanced at Walt. “Do you want to kill him, or should I?”
“Now, now,” Thoth said. “I can guide you a little. But you’ll have to connect the freckles, as they say.”
“Dots,” I said.
“Yes,” he said. “You’re on the right track. The
sheut
could be used to destroy a god, or even Apophis himself. And yes, like all sentient beings, Apophis has a shadow, though he keeps that part of his soul well hidden and well guarded.”
“So where is it?” I asked. “How do we use it?”
Thoth spread his hands. “The second question I can’t answer. The first question I’m not allowed to answer.”
Walt shoved his plate aside. “I’ve been trying to get it out of him, Carter. For a god of knowledge, he isn’t very helpful.”
“Come on, Thoth,” I said. “Can’t we do a quest for you or something? Couldn’t we blow up Elvis’s house again?”
“Tempting,” the god said. “But you must understand, giving a mortal the location of an immortal’s shadow—even Apophis’s—would be a grave crime. The other gods already think I’m a sell-out. Over the centuries, I’ve divulged too many secrets to mankind. I taught you the art of writing. I taught you magic and founded the House of Life.”
“Which is why magicians still honor you,” I said. “So help us one more time.”
“And give humans knowledge that could be used to destroy the gods?” Thoth sighed. “Can you understand why my brethren might object to such a thing?”
I clenched my fists. I thought about my mother’s spirit huddling beneath a cliff, fighting to stay put. The dark force
had
to be Apophis’s shadow. Apophis had shown me that vision to make me despair. As his power grew, his shadow grew stronger too. It was pulling in the spirits of the dead, consuming them.
I could guess the shadow was somewhere in the Duat, but that didn’t help. It was like saying
somewhere in the Pacific
Ocean
. The Duat was huge.
I glared at Thoth. “Your other option is not to help us and let Apophis destroy the world.”
“Point taken,” he admitted, “which is why I’m still talking to you. There
is
a way you could find the shadow’s location. Long ago, when I was young and naïve, I wrote a book—a field study, of sorts—called the Book of Thoth.”
“Catchy name,” Walt muttered.
“
I
thought so!” Thoth said. “At any rate, it described every form and disguise each god can take, their most secret hiding places—all sorts of embarrassing details.”
“Including how to find their shadows?” I asked.
“No comment. At any rate, I never meant for humans to read the book, but it was stolen in ancient times by a crafty magician.”
“Where is it now?” I asked. Then I held up my hands. “Wait…let me guess. You can’t tell us.”
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Thoth said. “This crafty magician hid the book. Fortunately he died before he could take full advantage of it, but he
did
use its knowledge to formulate a number of spells, including the shadow execration. He wrote down his thoughts in a special variation of the Book of Overcoming Apophis.”
“Setne,” I said. “That’s the magician you’re talking about.”
“Indeed. His spell was only theoretical, of course. Even
I
never had that knowledge. And as you know, all copies of his scroll have now been destroyed.”
“So it’s hopeless,” I said. “Dead end.”
“Oh, no,” Thoth said. “You could ask Setne himself. He wrote the spell. He hid the Book of Thoth that, ahem, may or may not describe the shadow’s location. If he were so inclined, he could help you.”
“But hasn’t Setne been dead for thousands of years?”
Thoth grinned. “Yes. And that’s only the first problem.”
Thoth told us about Setne, who’d apparently been pretty famous in Ancient Egypt—like Robin Hood, Merlin, and Attila the Hun rolled into one. The more I heard, the less I wanted to meet him.
“He was a pathological liar,” Thoth said. “A scoundrel, a traitor, a thief, and a brilliant magician. He prided himself on stealing books of knowledge, including mine. He battled monsters, adventured in the Duat, conquered gods, and broke into sacred tombs. He created curses that couldn’t be lifted and unearthed secrets that should have stayed buried. He was quite the evil genius.”
Walt tugged at his amulets. “Sounds like you admire him.”
The god gave him a sidelong grin. “Well, I appreciate the pursuit of knowledge, but I couldn’t endorse Setne’s methods. He’d stop at nothing to possess the secrets of the universe. He wanted to be a god, you see—not the
eye
of a god. A full-fledged immortal.”
“Which is impossible,” I guessed.
“Hard, not impossible,” Thoth said. “Imhotep, the first mortal magician—he was made a god after his death.” Thoth turned toward his computers. “That reminds me, I haven’t seen Imhotep in millennia. I wonder what he’s up to. Perhaps I should Google him—”
“Thoth,” Walt said, “concentrate.”
“Right. So, Setne. He created this spell for destroying any being—even a god. I could never endorse such knowledge falling into the hands of a mortal, but hypothetically speaking, if you needed the spell to defeat Apophis, you might be able to convince
Setne
to teach you the enchantment and lead you to the shadow of Apophis.”
“Except Setne’s dead,” I said. “We keep coming back to that.”
Walt sat up. “Unless…you’re suggesting we find his spirit in the Underworld. But if Setne was so evil, wouldn’t Osiris have condemned him in the Hall of Judgment? Ammit would’ve eaten his heart, and he would have ceased to exist.”
“Normally, yes,” Thoth said. “But Setne is a special case. He’s quite…persuasive. Even before the court of the Underworld, he was able to, ah, manipulate the legal system. Many times, Osiris sentenced him to oblivion, but Setne always managed to evade punishment. He got a lighter sentence, or he made a plea bargain, or he simply escaped. He’s managed to survive—as a spirit, at least—all these eons.”