“I’ll do it,” Bes said. His face was grim but determined.
“Old buddy!” Khonsu cried. “I’m delighted.”
“Stuff it, moon god,” Bes said. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”
“Bes,” I said, “you’ve done enough for us. Bast would never expect you—”
“I’m not doing it for Bast!” he grumbled. Then he took a deep breath. “Look, you kids are the real deal. Last couple of days—for the first time in ages I’ve felt wanted again. Important. Not like a sideshow attraction. If things go wrong, just tell Tawaret…” He cleared his throat and gave Sadie a meaningful look. “Tell her I tried to turn back the clock.”
“Oh, Bes.” Sadie got up and ran around the table. She hugged the dwarf god and kissed his cheek.
“All right, all right,” he muttered. “Don’t go sappy on me. Let’s play this game.”
“Time is money,” Khonsu agreed.
Our parents stood.
“We cannot stay for this,” Dad said. “But, children…”
He didn’t seem to know how to complete the thought. Good luck probably wouldn’t have cut it. I could see the guilt and worry in his eyes, but he was trying hard not to show it. A good general, Horus would have said.
“We love you,” our mother finished. “You will prevail.”
With that, our parents turned to mist and vanished. Everything outside the pavilion darkened like a stage set. The senet game began to glow brighter.
“Shiny,” Ra said.
“Three blue pieces for you,” Khonsu said. “Three silver pieces for me. Now, who’s feeling lucky?”
The game started well enough. Sadie had skill at tossing the sticks. Bes had several thousand years of gaming experience. And I got the job of moving the pieces and making sure Ra didn’t eat them.
At first it wasn’t obvious who was winning. We just rolled and moved, and it was hard to believe we were playing for our souls, or true names, or whatever you want to call them.
We bumped one of Khonsu’s pieces back to start, but he didn’t seem upset. He seemed delighted by just about everything.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” I asked at one point. “Devouring innocent souls?”
“Not really.” He polished his crescent amulet. “Why should it?”
“But we’re trying to save the world,” Sadie said, “Ma’at, the gods—everything. Don’t you care if the world crumbles into Chaos?”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Khonsu said. “Change comes in phases, Ma’at and Chaos, Chaos and Ma’at. Being the moon god, I appreciate variation. Now, Ra, poor guy—he always stuck to a schedule. Same path every night. So predictable and boring. Retiring was the most interesting thing he ever did. If Apophis takes over and swallows the sun, well—I suppose the moon will still be there.”
“You’re insane,” Sadie said.
“Ha! I’ll bet you five extra minutes of moonlight that I’m perfectly sane.”
“Forget it,” Sadie said. “Just roll.”
Khonsu tossed the sticks. The bad news: he made alarming progress. He rolled a five and got one of his pieces almost to the end of the board. The good news: the piece got stuck at the House of Three Truths, which meant he could only roll a three to get it out.
Bes studied the board intently. He didn’t seem to like what he saw. We had one piece way back at the start and two pieces on the last row of the board.
“Careful now,” Khonsu warned. “This is where it gets interesting.”
Sadie rolled a four, which gave us two options. Our lead piece could go out. Or our second piece could bump Khonsu’s piece from the House of Three Truths and send it back to Start.
“Bump him,” I said. “It’s safer.”