“Not as large, thankfully,” said Bast, who was also looking seasick. “We’ve crossed over into—”
“The Land of the Dead,” Carter finished.
He pointed to the shore, which was shrouded in mist. Strange things lurked in the darkness: flickering ghost lights, giant faces made of fog, hulking shadows that seemed unconnected to anything physical. Along the riverbanks, old bones dragged themselves through the mud, linking with other bones in random patterns.
“I’m guessing this isn’t the Mississippi,” I said.
“The River of Night,” Bloodstained Blade hummed. “It is every river and no river—the shadow of the Mississippi, the Nile, the Thames. It flows throughout the Duat, with many branches and tributaries.”
“Clears that right up,” I muttered.
The scenes got stranger. We saw ghost villages from ancient times—little clusters of reed huts made of flickering smoke. We saw vast temples crumbling and reconstructing themselves over and over again like a looped video. And everywhere, ghosts turned their faces towards our boat as we passed. Smoky hands reached out. Shades silently called to us, then turned away in despair as we passed.
“The lost and confused,” Bast said. “Spirits who never found their way to the Hall of Judgment.”
“Why are they so sad?” I asked.
“Well, they’re dead,” Carter speculated.
“No, it’s more than that,” I said. “It’s like they’re...expecting someone.”
“Ra,” Bast said. “For eons, Ra’s glorious sun boat would travel this route each night, fighting off the forces of Apophis.” She looked round nervously as if remembering old ambushes. “It was dangerous: every night, a fight for existence. But as he passed, Ra would bring sunlight and warmth to the Duat, and these lost spirits would rejoice, remembering the world of the living.”
“But that’s a legend,” Carter said. “The earth revolves around the sun. The sun never actually descends under the earth.”
“Have you learned nothing of Egypt?” Bast asked. “Conflicting stories can be equally true. The sun is a ball of fire in space, yes. But its image you see as it crosses the sky, the life-giving warmth and light it brings to the earth—that was embodied by Ra. The sun was his throne, his source of power, his very spirit. But now Ra has retreated into the heavens. He sleeps, and the sun is just the sun. Ra’s boat no longer travels on its cycle through the Duat. He no longer lights the dark, and the dead feel his absence most keenly.”
“Indeed,” Bloodstained Blade said, though he didn’t sound very upset about it. “Legend says the world will end when Ra gets too tired to continue living in his weakened state. Apophis will swallow the sun. Darkness will reign. Chaos will overcome Ma’at, and the Serpent will reign forever.”
Part of me thought this was absurd. The planets would not simply stop spinning. The sun would not cease to rise.
On the other hand, here I was riding a boat through the Land of the Dead with a demon and a god. If Apophis was real too, I didn’t fancy meeting him.
And to be honest, I felt guilty. If the story Thoth told me was true, Isis had caused Ra to retreat into the heavens with that secret name business. Which meant, in a ridiculous, maddening way, the end of the world would be my fault. Bloody typical. I wanted to punch myself to get even with Isis, but I suspected it would hurt.
“Ra should wake up and smell the sahlab,” I said. “He should come back.”
Bast laughed without humor. “And the world should be young again, Sadie. I wish it could be so....”
Khufu grunted and gestured ahead. He gave the captain back the wheel and ran out of the wheelhouse and down the stairs.
“The baboon is right,” said Bloodstained Blade. “You should get to the prow. A challenge will be coming soon.”
“What sort of challenge?” I asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” Bloodstained Blade said, and I thought I detected smug satisfaction in his voice. “I wish you luck, Lady Kane.”
“Why me?” I grumbled.
Bast, Carter, and I stood at the prow of the boat, watching the river appear out of the darkness. Below us, the boat’s painted eyes glowed faintly in the dark, sweeping beams of light across the red water. Khufu had climbed to the top of the gangplank, which stood straight up when retracted, and cupped his hand over his eyes li
ke a sailor in a crow’s-nest.
But all that vigilance didn’t do much good. With the dark and the mist, our visibility was nil. Massive rocks, broken pillars, and crumbling statues of pharaohs loomed out of nowhere, and Bloodstained Blade yanked the wheel to avoid them, forcing us to grab hold of the rails. Occasionally we’d see long slimy lines cutting through the surface of the water, like tentacles, or the backs of submerged creatures—I really didn’t want to know.
“Mortal souls are always challenged,” Bast told me. “You must prove your worth to enter the Land of the Dead.”
“Like it’s such a big treat?”