It was hard to tell in the dark, but I could swear he blushed. “You don’t understand. The feather cannot abide the smallest lie. If I gave it to you, and you spoke a single untruth while you carried it, or acted in a way that was not truthful, you would burn to ashes.”
“You’re assuming I’m a liar.”
He blinked. “No, I simply—”
“You’ve never told a lie? What were you about to say just now—about Set? He’s your father, I’m guessing. Is that it?”
Anubis closed his mouth, then opened it again. He looked as if he wanted to get angry but couldn’t quite remember how. “Are you always this infuriating?”
“Usually more,” I admitted.
“Why hasn’t your family married you off to someone far, far away?”
He asked as if it were an honest question, and now it was my turn to be flabbergasted. “Excuse me, death boy! But I’m twelve! Well...almost thirteen, and a very mature almost thirteen, but that’s not the point. We don’t ‘marry off’ girls in my family, and you may know everything about funerals, but apparently you aren’t very up to speed on courtship rituals!”
Anubis looked mystified. “Apparently not.”
“Right! Wait—what were we talking about? Oh, thought you could distract me, eh? I remember. Set’s your father, yes? Tell the truth.”
Anubis gazed across the graveyard. The sound of the jazz funeral was fading into the streets of the French Quarter.
“Yes,” he said. “At least, that’s what the legends say. I’ve never met him. My mother, Nephthys, gave me to Osiris when I was a child.”
“She...gave you away?”
“She said she didn’t want me to know my father. But in truth, I’m not sure she knew what to do with me. I wasn’t like my cousin Horus. I wasn’t a warrior. I was a...different child.”
He sounded so bitter, I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I’d asked for the truth, but usually you don’t actually get it, especially from guys. I also knew something about being the different child—and feeling like my parents had given me away.
“Maybe your mum was trying to protect you,” I said. “Your dad being Lord of Evil, and all.”
“Maybe,” he said halfheartedly. “Osiris took me under his wing. He made me the Lord of Funerals, the Keeper of the Ways of Death. It’s a good job, but...you asked how old I am. The truth is I don’t know. Years don’t pass in the Land of the Dead. I still feel quite young, but the world has gotten old around me. And Osiris has been gone so long...He’s the only family I had.”
Looking at Anubis in the dim light of the graveyard, I saw a lonely teenage guy. I tried to remind myself that he was a god, thousands of years old, probably able to control vast powers well beyond magic toilet paper, but I still felt sorry for him.
“Help us rescue my dad,” I said. “We’ll send Set back to the Duat, and Osiris will be free. We’ll all be happy.”
Anubis shook his head again. “I told you—”
“Your scales are broken,” I noticed. “That’s because Osiris isn’t here, I’m guessing. What happens to all the souls that come for judgment?”
I knew I’d hit a nerve. Anubis shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “It increases chaos. The souls become confused. Some cannot go to the afterlife. Some manage, but they must find other ways. I try to help, but...the Hall of Judgment is also called the Hall of Ma’at. It is meant to be the center of order, a stable foundation. Without Osiris, it is falling into disrepair, crumbling.”
“Then what are you waiting for? Give us the feather. Unless you’re afraid your dad will ground you.”
His eyes flashed with irritation. For a moment I thought he was planning my funeral, but he simply sighed in exasperation. “I do a ceremony called the opening of the mouth. It lets the soul of the dead person come forth. For you, Sadie Kane, I would invent a new ceremony: the closing of the mouth.”
“Ha, ha. Are you going to give me the feather or not?”
He opened his hand. There was a burst of light, and a glowing feather floated above his palm—a snowy plume like a writing quill. “For Osiris’s sake—but I will insist on several conditions. First, only you may handle it.”
“Well, of course. You don’t think I’d let Carter—”
“Also, you must listen to my mother, Nephthys. Khufu told me you were looking for her. If you manage to find her, listen to her.”
“Easy,” I said, though the request did leave me strangely uncomfortable. Why would Anubis ask something like that?
“And before you go,” Anubis continued, “you must answer three questions for me as you hold the feather of truth, to prove that you are honest.”