His eyes were ruined.
I’ll admit I’m squeamish about eyes. A video of retinal surgery? I’ll run out of the room. Even the idea of contact lenses makes me cringe.
But the man in white looked as if his eyes had been splashed with acid, then repeatedly clawed by cats. His eyelids were masses of scar tissue that didn’t close properly. His eyebrows were burned away and raked with deep gro
oves. The skin above his cheekbones was a mask of red welts, and the eyes themselves were such a horrible combination of blood red and milky white that I couldn’t believe he was able to see.
He inhaled, wheezing so badly, the sound made my chest hurt. Glittering against his shirt was a silver pendant with a snake-shaped amulet.
“He used the portal moments ago, my lord,” the man rasped. “Finally, he has gone.”
That voice was as horrible as his eyes. If he had been splashed with acid, some of it must have gotten into his lungs. Yet the man kept smiling, looking calm and happy in his crisp white suit as if he couldn’t wait to sell ice cream to the good little children.
He approached Desjardins, who was still staring at the curtains of light. The ice cream man followed his gaze. I did the same and realized what the Chief Lector was looking at. At the last pillar, just next to the throne, the light was changing. The reddish tint of the modern age was darkening to a deep purple, the color of bruises. On my first visit to the Hall of Ages, I’d been told that the room grew longer as the years passed, and now I could actually see it happening. The floor and walls rippled like a mirage, expanding ever so slowly, and the sliver of purple light widened.
“Ah,” said the ice cream man. “It’s much clearer now.”
“A new age,” Desjardins murmured. “A darker age. The color of the light has not changed for a thousand years, Vladimir.”
An evil ice cream man named Vladimir? All right, then.
“It is the Kanes, of course,” said Vladimir. “You should’ve killed the elder one while he was in our power.”
My ba feathers ruffled. I realized he was talking about Uncle Amos.
“No,” Desjardins said. “He was under our protection. All who seek healing must be given sanctuary—even Kane.”
Vladimir took a deep breath, which sounded like a clogged vacuum cleaner. “But surely now that he has left, we must act. You heard the news from Brooklyn, my lord. The children have found the first scroll. If they find the other two—”
“I know, Vladimir.”
“They humiliated the House of Life in Arizona. They made peace with Set rather than destroy him. And now they seek the Book of Ra. If you would allow me to deal with them—”
The top of Desjardins’ staff erupted in purple fire. “Who is Chief Lector?” he demanded.
Vladimir’s pleasant expression faltered. “You are, my lord.”
“And I will deal with the Kanes in due time, but Apophis is our greatest threat. We must divert all our power to keeping down the Serpent. If there is any chance the Kanes can help us restore order—”
“But, Chief Lector,” Vladimir interrupted. His tone had a new intensity—an almost magical force to it. “The Kanes are part of the problem. They have upset the balance of Ma’at by awakening the gods. They are teaching forbidden magic. Now they would restore Ra, who has not ruled since the beginning of Egypt! They will throw the world into disarray. This will only help Chaos.”
Desjardins blinked, as if confused. “Perhaps you’re right.
I…I must think on this.” Vladimir bowed. “As you wish, my lord. I will gather our forces and await your orders to destroy Brooklyn House.”
“Destroy…” Desjardins frowned. “Yes, you will await my orders. I will choose the time to attack, Vladimir.”
“Very good, my lord. And if the Kane children seek the other two scrolls to awaken Ra? One is beyond their reach, of course, but the other—”
“I will leave that to you. Guard it as you think best.” Vladimir’s eyes were even more horrible when he got excited—slimy and glistening behind those ruined eyelids. They reminded me of Gramps’s favorite breakfast: soft-boiled eggs with Tabasco sauce.
[Well, I’m sorry if it’s disgusting, Carter. You shouldn’t try to eat while I’m narrating, anyway!]
“My lord is wise,” Vladimir said. “The children will seek the scrolls, my lord. They have no choice. If they leave their stronghold and come into my territory—”
“Didn’t I just say we will dispose of them?” Desjardins said flatly. “Now, leave me. I must think.”
Vladimir retreated into the shadows. For someone dressed in white, he managed to disappear quite well.