Bloodstained Blade entered the dining room, dipping his ax head under the doorframe. “Lord and Lady Kane, the journey is short from here. We will arrive at the Hall of Judgment in approximately twenty minutes.”
“Thanks, BSB,” Carter said as he rubbed his ear. “We’ll join you on deck soon.”
“Very good,” said the demon. “What are your orders when we arrive?”
I tensed, hoping Carter had thought ahead. Bast had warned us that demons needed very clear instructions to stay under control.
“You’ll wait for us while we visit the Hall of Judgment,” Carter announced. “When we return, you’ll take us where we wish to go.”
“As you say.” Bloodstained Blade’s tone had a hint of disappointment—or was that my imagination?
After he left, Zia frowned. “Carter, in this case I agree with Sadie. How can you trust that creature? Where did you get this ship?”
“It belonged to our parents,” Carter said.
He and I shared a look, silently agreeing that was enough said. Our mum and dad had sailed this riverboat up the Thames to Cleopatra’s Needle the night Mum had died releasing Bast from the abyss. Afterward, Dad had sat in this very room, grieving, with only the cat goddess and the demon captain for company.
Bloodstained Blade had accepted us as his new masters. He’d followed our orders before, but that was little comfort. I didn’t trust him. I didn’t like being on this ship.
On the other hand, we needed to get to the Hall of Judgment. I was hungry and thirsty, and I supposed I could endure a twenty-minute voyage if it meant enjoying a chilled Ribena and a plate of tandoori chicken with naan.
The four of us sat around the table. We ate while we compared stories. All in all, it was quite possibly the most awkward double date in history. We had no shortage of dire emergencies to talk about, but the tension in the room was as thick as Cairo smog.
Carter hadn’t seen Zia in person for months. I could tell he was trying not to stare. Zia was clearly uncomfortable sitting so close to him. She kept leaning away, which no doubt hurt his feelings. Perhaps she was just worried about having another fireball-throwing episode. As for me, I was elated to be next to Walt, but at the same time, I was desperately worried about him. I couldn’t forget how he’d looked wrapped in glowing mummy linen, and I wondered what Anubis had wanted to tell me about Walt’s situation. Walt tried to hide it, but he was obviously in great pain. His hands trembled as he picked up his peanut butter sandwich.
Carter told me about the pending evacuation of Brooklyn House, which Bast was overseeing. My heart nearly broke when I thought of little Shelby, wonderful silly Felix, shy Cleo, and all the rest going off to defend the First Nome against an impossible attack, but I knew Carter was right. There was no other choice.
Carter kept hesitating, as if waiting for Walt to contribute information. Walt stayed silent. Clearly he was holding something back. Somehow or other, I’d have to get Walt alone and grill him for details.
In return, I told Carter about our visit to the House of Rest. I shared my suspicions that Amos might be calling on Set for extra power. Zia didn’t contradict me, and the news didn’t sit well with my brother. After several minutes of swearing and pacing the room, he finally calmed down enough to say, “We can’t let that happen. He’ll be destroyed.”
“I know,” I said. “But we can best help him by moving forward.”
I didn’t mention Zia’s blackout in the nursing home. In Carter’s present state of mind, I thought that might be too much for him. But I did tell him what Tawaret had said about the possible location of Bes’s shadow.
“The ruins of Saïs…” He frowned. “I think Dad mentioned that place. He said there wasn’t much left. But even if we could find the shadow, we don’t have time. We’ve got to stop Apophis.”
“I made a promise,” I insisted. “Besides, we need Bes. Think of it as a trial run. Saving his shadow will give us a chance to p
ractice this sort of magic before we try it on Apophis—um, in reverse, of course. It might even give us a way to revive Ra.”
“But—”
“She’s got a point,” Walt interrupted.
I’m not sure who was more surprised—Carter, or me.
“Even if we get Setne’s help,” Walt said, “trapping a shadow in a statue is going to be difficult. I’d feel better if we could try it on a friendly target first. I could show you how it’s done while—while I still have time.”
“Walt,” I said, “please, don’t talk like that.”
“When you face Apophis,” he continued, “you’ll have only one chance to get the spell right. It would be better to have some practice.”
When you face Apophis. He said it so calmly, but his meaning was clear: he wouldn’t be around when that happened.
Carter nudged his half-eaten pizza. “I just…I don’t see how we can do it all in time. I know this is a personal mission for you, Sadie, but—”
“She has to,” Zia said gently. “Carter, you once went off on a personal mission in the middle of a crisis, didn’t you? That worked out.” She put her hand on Carter’s. “Sometimes you have to follow your heart.”