The Serpent's Shadow (The Kane Chronicles, Book Three) (37 page)

The other rebels weren’t quite as successful with their attacks, but they were certainly persistent. Some blasted Set with gusts of wind or water. Others launched
shabti
creatures, like giant scorpions and griffins. One fat bloke was pelting Amos with bits of cheese. Honestly, I’m not sure I would have chosen a Cheese Master for my elite hit squad, but perhaps Sarah Jacobi got peckish during her battles.

Set seemed to be enjoying himself. The giant red warrior slammed his iron staff into Kwai’s chest and sent him spiraling through the air. He kicked another magician into the holographic curtains of the Roman Age, and the poor man collapsed with smoke coming out his ears, his mind probably overloaded with visions of toga parties.

Set thrust his free hand toward the Cheese Master. The fat magician was swallowed in a sandstorm and began to scream, but just as quickly, Set retracted his hand. The storm died. The magician dropped to the floor like a rag doll, unconscious but still alive.

“Bah!” the red warrior bellowed. “Come on, Amos, let me have
some
fun. I only wanted to strip the flesh from his bones!”

Amos’s face was tight with concentration. Clearly he was doing his best to control the god, but Set had many other enemies to play with.

“Pull!” The red god shot lightning at a stone sphinx and blasted it to dust. He laughed insanely and swatted his staff at Sarah Jacobi. “This is fun, little magicians! Don’t you have any more tricks?”

I’m not sure how long we stood in the doorway, watching the battle. Probably not more than a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity.

Finally Jaz choked back a sob. “Amos…he’s possessed again.”

“No,” I insisted. “No, this is different! He’s in control.”

Our initiates gazed at me with disbelief. I understood their panic. I remembered better than anyone how Set had nearly broken my uncle’s sanity. It was hard to comprehend that Amos would ever willingly channel the red god’s power. Yet he was doing the impossible. He was winning.

Still, even the Chief Lector couldn’t channel that much power for long.

“Look at him!” I pleaded. “We have to help him! Amos isn’t possessed. He’s controlling Set!”

Walt frowned. “Sadie, that—that’s impossible. Set can’t be controlled.”

Carter raised his crook and flail. “Obviously he
can
be, because Amos is doing it. Now, are we going to war, or what?”

We charged forward, but we’d hesitated too long. Sarah Jacobi had noticed our presence. She yelled down at her followers: “Now!”

She may have been evil, but she was not a fool. Their assault on Amos thus far had simply been to distract him and weaken him. On her cue, the real attack began. Kwai blasted lightning at Amos’s face just as the other magicians drew out magic ropes and threw them at the Set avatar.

The red warrior staggered as the ropes tightened all at once, lashing around his legs and arms. Sarah Jacobi sheathed her knives and produced a long black lariat. Sailing her storm cloud above the avatar, she deftly lassoed his head and pulled the noose tight.

Set roared with outrage, but the avatar began to shrink. Before we could even close the distance, Amos was kneeling on the floor of the Hall of Ages, surrounded by only the thinnest of glowing red shields. Magical ropes now bound him tight. Sarah Jacobi stood behind him, holding the black lasso like a leash. One of her
netjeri
blades was pressed against Amos’s neck.

“Stop!” she commanded us. “This ends
now
.”

My friends hesitated. The rebel magicians turned and faced us warily.

Isis spoke in my mind:
Regrettable, but we must let him die.
He hosts Set, our old enemy.

That’s my uncle!
I replied.

He has been corrupted
, Isis said.
He is already gone.

“No!” I yelled. Our connection wavered. You can’t share the mind of a god and have a disagreement. To be the Eye, you must act in perfect unison.

Carter seemed to be having similar trouble with Horus. He summoned the hawk warrior avatar, but almost immediately it dissipated and dropped Carter to the floor.

“Come on, Horus!” he growled. “We
have
to help.”

Sarah Jacobi’s laugh sounded like metal scraped through sand.

“Do you see?” She pulled tight on the noose around Amos’s neck. “
This
is what comes from the path of the gods! Confusion. Chaos.
Set
himself in the Hall of Ages! Even you misguided fools cannot deny this is wrong!”

Amos clawed at his throat. He growled in outrage, but it was Set’s voice that spoke. “I try to do something nice, and
this
is my thanks? You should have let me kill them, Amos!”

I stepped forward, careful to make no sudden movements. “Jacobi, you don’t understand. Amos is channeling Set’s power, but he’s in control. He could have killed you, but he didn’t. Set was a lieutenant of Ra. He’s a useful ally, properly managed.”

Set snorted. “Useful, yes! I don’t know about the
properly
managed
business. Let me go, puny magicians, so I can crush you!”

I glared at my uncle. “Set! Not helping!”

Amos’s expression changed from anger to concern. “Sadie!” he said with his own voice. “Go: fight Apophis. Leave me here!”

“No,” I said. “You’re the Chief Lector. We’ll fight for the House of Life.”

I didn’t look behind me, but I hoped that my friends would agree. Otherwise my last stand would be very, very short.

Jacobi sneered. “Your uncle is a servant of Set! You and your brother are sentenced to death. The rest of you, lay down your weapons. As your new Chief Lector, I will give you amnesty. Then we will battle Apophis together.”

“You’re in
league
with Apophis!” I yelled.

Jacobi’s face turned stony cold. “Treason.”

She thrust out her staff.
“Ha-di.”

I raised my wand, but Isis wasn’t helping me this time. I was just Sadie Kane, and my defenses were slow. The explosion ripped through my weak shields and threw me backward into a curtain of light. Images from the Age of the Gods crackled around me—the founding of the world, the crowning of Osiris, the battle between Set and Horus—like having sixty different movies downloaded into my brain while being electrocuted. The light shattered, and I lay on the floor, dazed and drained.

“Sadie!” Carter charged toward me, but Kwai blasted him with a bolt of red lightning. Carter fell to his knees. I didn’t even have the strength to cry out.

Jaz ran toward him. Little Shelby yelled, “Stop it! Stop it!” Our other initiates seemed stunned, unable to move.

“Give up,” Jacobi said. I realized she was speaking with words of power, just like the ghost Setne had done. She was using magic to paralyze my friends. “The Kanes have brought you nothing but trouble. It’s time this ended.”

She lifted her
netjeri
blade from Amos’s throat. Quick as light, she threw it at me. As the blade flew, my mind seemed to speed up. In that millisecond, I understood that Sarah Jacobi wouldn’t miss. My end would be as painful as poor Leonid’s, who was bleeding to death alone in the outer tunnel. Yet I could do nothing to defend myself.

A shadow crossed in front of me. A bare hand snatched the blade out of the air. The meteoric iron turned gray and crumbled.

Jacobi’s eyes widened. She hastily drew her second knife.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Walt Stone,” he said, “blood of the pharaohs. And Anubis, god of the dead.”

He stepped in front of me, shielding me from my enemies. Maybe my vision was double because I’d cracked my head, but I saw the two of them with equal clarity—both handsome and powerful, both quite angry.

“We speak with one voice,” Walt said. “Especially on this matter.
No one
harms Sadie Kane.”

He thrust out his hand. The floor split open at Sarah Jacobi’s feet, and souls of the dead sprang up like weeds—skeletal hands, glowing faces, fanged shadows, and winged
ba
with their claws extended. They swarmed Sarah Jacobi, wrapping her in ghostly linen, and dragged her screaming into the chasm. The floor closed behind her, leaving no trace that she had ever existed.

The black noose slackened around Amos’s neck, and the voice of Set laughed with delight. “That’s my boy!”

“Shut up, Father,” Anubis said.

In the Duat, Anubis looked as he always had, with his tousled dark hair and lovely brown eyes, but I’d never seen him filled with such rage. I realized that anyone who dared to hurt me would suffer his full wrath, and Walt wasn’t going to hold him back.

Jaz helped Carter to his feet. His shirt was burned, but he looked all right. I suppose a blast of lightning wasn’t the worst thing that had happened to him lately.

“Magicians!” Carter managed to stand tall and confident, addressing both our initiates and the rebels. “We’re wasting time. Apophis is above, about to destroy the world. A few brave gods are holding him back for
our
sakes, for the sake of Egypt and the world of mortals, but they can’t do it alone. Jacobi and Kwai led you astray. Unbind the Chief Lector. We
have
to work together.”

Kwai snarled. Red electricity arced between his fingers. “Never. We do not bow to gods.”

I managed to rise.

“Listen to my brother,” I said. “You don’t trust the gods? They are already helping us. Meanwhile, Apophis wants us to fight one another. Why do you think your attack was timed for this morning, at the same moment Apophis is rising? Kwai and Jacobi have sold you out. The enemy is right in front of you!”

Even the rebel magicians now turned to stare at Kwai. The remaining ropes fell away from Amos.

Kwai sneered. “You’re too late.”

His voice hummed with power. His robes turned from blue to bloodred. His eyes glowed, his pupils turning to reptilian slits. “Even now, my master destroys the old gods, sweeping away the foundations of your world. He will swallow the sun. All of you will die.”

Amos got to his feet. Red sand swirled around him, but I had no doubt who was in charge now. His white robes shimmered with power. The leopard-skin cape of the Chief Lector gleamed on his shoulders. He held out his staff, and multicolored hieroglyphs filled the air.

“House of Life,” he said. “To war!”

Kwai did not give up easily.

I suppose that’s what happens when the Serpent of Chaos is invading your thoughts and filling you with unlimited rage and magic.

Kwai sent a chain of red lightning across the room, knocking over most of the other magicians, including his own followers. Isis must have protected me, because the electricity rippled over me with no effect. Amos didn’t seem bothered in his swirling red tornado. Walt stumbled, but only briefly. Even Carter in his weakened state managed to turn aside the lightning with his pharaoh’s crook.

The others weren’t as lucky. Jaz collapsed. Then Julian. Then Felix and his squad of penguins. All our initiates and the rebels they’d been fighting crumpled unconscious to the floor. So much for a massive offensive.

I summoned the power of Isis. I began to cast a binding charm; but Kwai wasn’t done with his tricks. He raised his hands and created his own sandstorm. Dozens of whirlwinds spun through the hall, thickening and forming into creatures of sand—sphinxes, crocodiles, wolves, and lions. They attacked in every direction, even pouncing on our defenseless friends.

“Sadie!” Amos warned. “Protect them!”

I quickly changed spells—casting hasty shields over our unconscious initiates. Amos blasted the monsters one after the other, but they just kept re-forming.

Carter summoned his avatar. He charged at Kwai, but the red magician blasted him backward with a new surge of lightning. My poor brother slammed into a stone column, which collapsed on top of him. I could only hope his avatar had taken the brunt of the impact.

Walt released a dozen magical creatures at once—his sphinx, his camels, his ibis, even Philip of Macedonia. They charged at the sand creatures, trying to keep them away from the fallen magicians.

Then Walt turned to face Kwai.

“Anubis,” Kwai hissed. “You should have stayed in your funeral parlor, boy god. You are outmatched.”

By way of answer, Walt spread his hands. On either side of him, the floor cracked open. Two massive jackals leaped from the crevices, their fangs bared. Walt’s form shimmered. Suddenly he was dressed in Egyptian battle armor, a
was
staff twirling in his hands like a deadly fan blade.

Kwai roared. He blasted the jackals with waves of sand. He hurled lightning and words of power at Walt, but Walt deflected them with his staff, reducing Kwai’s attacks to gray ashes.

The jackals harried Kwai from either side, sinking their teeth into his legs, while Walt stepped in and swung his staff like a golf club. He hit Kwai so hard, I imagined it echoed all the way through the Duat. The magician fell. His sand creatures vanished.

Walt called off his jackals. Amos lowered his staff. Carter rose from the rubble, looking dizzy but unharmed. We gathered around the fallen magician.

Kwai should have been dead. A line of blood trickled from his mouth. His eyes were glassy. But as I studied his face, he took a sharp breath and laughed weakly.

“Idiots,” he rasped.
“Sahei.”

A bloodred hieroglyph burned against his chest: