Dad stroked his goatee. “Yes, the scarab god, Ra’s form as the rising sun. Perhaps if you found Khepri, Ra could be fully reborn. But you would need to pass through the gates of the Eighth House.”
“Which are closed,” I said. “We’d have to, like, reverse time.”
Bes stopped munching grasshoppers. His eyes widened like he’d just had a revelation. He looked at my dad incredulously. “Him? You invited him?”
“Who?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
I stared at my dad, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Dad, what is it?” I demanded. “There’s a way through the gates? Can you teleport us to the other side or something?”
“I wish I could, Carter. But the journey must be followed. It is part of Ra’s rebirth. I can’t interfere with that. However, you’re right: you need extra time. There might be a way, though I’d never suggest it if the stakes weren’t so high—”
“It’s dangerous,” our mom warned. “I think it’s too dangerous.”
“What’s too dangerous?” Sadie asked.
“Me, I suppose,” said a voice behind me.
I turned and found a man standing with his hands on the back of my chair. Either he’d approached so silently, I hadn’t heard him, or he’d materialized out of thin air.
He looked about twenty, thin and tall and kind of glamorous. His face was totally human, but his irises were silver. His head was shaven except for a glossy black ponytail on one side of his head, like Ancient Egyptian youth used to wear. His silvery suit looked to have been tailored in Italy (I only know that because Amos and my dad both paid a lot of attention to suits). The fabric shimmered like some bizarre mix of silk and alu
minum foil. His shirt was black and collarless, and several pounds of platinum chains hung around his neck. The biggest piece of bling was a silver crescent amulet. When his fingers drummed on the back of my chair, his rings and platinum Rolex flashed. If I’d seen him in the mortal world, I might’ve guessed he was a young Native American billionaire casino owner. But here in the Duat, with that crescent-shaped amulet around his neck…
“Moon pie!” Ra cackled with delight.
“You’re Khonsu,” I guessed. “The moon god.”
He gave me a wolfish grin, looking at me as if I were an appetizer.
“At your service,” he said. “Care to play a game?”
“Not you,” Bes growled.
Khonsu spread his arms in a big air hug. “Bes, old buddy! How’ve you been?”
“Don’t ‘old buddy’ me, you scam artist.”
“I’m hurt!” Khonsu sat down on my right and leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Poor Bes gambled with me ages ago, you see. He wanted more time with Bast. He wagered a few feet of his height. I’m afraid he lost.”
“That’s not what happened!” Bes roared.
“Gentlemen,” my father said in his sternest Dad tone. “You are both guests at my table. I won’t have any fighting.”
“Absolutely, Osiris.” Khonsu beamed at him. “I’m honored to be here. And these are your famous children? Wonderful! Are you ready to play, kids?”
“Julius, they don’t understand the risks,” our mother protested. “We can’t let them do this.”
“Hang on,” Sadie said. “Do what, exactly?”
Khonsu snapped his fingers, and all the food on the table disappeared, replaced by a glowing silver senet board. “Haven’t you heard about me, Sadie? Didn’t Isis tell you some stories? Or Nut? Now, there was a gambler! The sky goddess wouldn’t stop playing until she’d won five whole days from me. Do you know the odds against winning that much time? Astronomical! Of course, she’s covered with stars, so I suppose she is astronomical.”
Khonsu laughed at his own joke. He didn’t seem bothered that no one joined him.
“I remember,” I said. “You gambled with Nut, and she won enough moonlight to create five extra days, the Demon Days. That let her get around Ra’s commandment that her five children couldn’t be born on any day of the year.”
“Nuts,” Ra muttered. “Bad nuts.”