“Carter?” she said gently. “Shut up.”
She leaned over and kissed me.
I did as she commanded, no magic necessary. I shut up.
S A D I E
21. The Gods Are Sorted; My Feelings Are Not
AH, MY THREE FAVORITE WORDS: Carter, shut up.
Zia really has come a long way since we first met. I think there’s hope for her, even if she does fancy my brother.
At any rate, Carter has wisely left the last bit of the story for me to tell.
After the battle with Apophis, I felt horrible on many levels. Physically, I was knackered. Magically, I’d used up every last bit of energy. I was afraid I might have permanently damaged myself, as I had a smoldering feeling behind my sternum that was either my exhausted magic reservoir or very bad heartburn.
Emotionally, I wasn’t much better. I had watched Carter embrace Zia when she emerged from the steaming goo of the serpent, which was all very well, but it only reminded me of my own turmoil.
Where was Walt? (I’d decided to call him that, or I would drive myself crazy figuring out his identity.) He had been standing nearby just after the battle. Now he was gone.
Had he left with the other gods? I was already worried about Bes and Bast. It wasn’t like them to disappear without saying good-bye. And I wasn’t keen on what Ra had said about the gods leaving the earth for a while.
You cannot push me away without pushing away the gods, Apophis had warned.
The bloody serpent might have mentioned that before we execrated him. I had just made my peace with the whole Walt/Anubis idea—or mostly, at any rate—and now Walt had vanished. If he’d been declared off-limits again, I was going to crawl into a sarcophagus and never come out.
While Carter was with Zia in the infirmary, I wandered the corridors of the First Nome, but found no sign of Walt. I tried to contact him with the shen amulet. No answer. I even tried to contact Isis for advice, but the goddess had gone silent. I didn’t like that.
So, yes, I was quite distracted in the Hall of Ages during Carter’s little acceptance speech: I’d like to thank all the little people for making me pharaoh, et cetera, et cetera.
I was glad to visit the Underworld and be reunited with my mum and dad. At least they weren’t off-limits. But I was quite disappointed not to find Walt there. Even if he wasn’t allowed in the mortal world, shouldn’t he be in the Hall of Judgment, taking over the duties of Anubis?
That’s when my mother pulled me aside. (Not literally, of course. Being a ghost, she couldn’t pull me anywhere.) We stood to the left of the dais where the dead musicians played lively music. JD Grissom and his wife, Anne, smiled at me. They seemed happy, and I was glad for that, but I still had trouble seeing them without feeling guilty.
My mum tugged at her necklace—a ghostly replica of my own tyet amulet. “Sadie…we’ve never gotten to talk much, you and I.”
Bit of an understatement, since she died when I was six. I understood what she meant, though. Even after our reunion last spring, she and I had never really chatted. Visiting her in the Duat was rather hard, and ghosts don’t have e-mail or Skype or mobile phones. Even if they had had a proper Internet connection, “friending” my dead mother on Facebook would have felt rather odd.
I didn’t say any of that. I just nodded.
“You’ve grown strong, Sadie,” Mum said. “You’ve had to be brave for so long, it must be hard for you to let your defenses down. You’re afraid to lose any more people you care about.”
I felt lightheaded, as if I were turning into a ghost, too. Had I become see-through, like my mother? I wanted to argue and protest and joke. I didn’t want to hear my mother’s commentary, especially when it was so accurate.
At the same time, I was so mixed up inside about Walt, so worried about what had happened to him, I wanted to break down and cry on my mother’s shoulder. I wanted her to hug me and tell me it was all right. Unfortunately, one can’t cry on the shoulder of a ghost.
“I know,” Mum said sadly, as if reading my thoughts. “I wasn’t there for you when you were small. And your father…well, he had to l
eave you with Gran and Gramps. They tried to provide you with a normal life, but you’re so much more than normal, aren’t you? And now here you are, a young woman.…” She sighed. “I’ve missed so much of your life, I don’t know if you’ll want my advice now. But for what it’s worth: trust your feelings. I can’t promise that you’ll never get hurt again, but I can promise you the risk is worth it.”
I studied her face, unchanged since the day she had died: her wispy blond hair, her blue eyes, the rather mischievous curve of her eyebrows. Many times, I’d been told that I looked like her. Now I could see it clearly. As I’d got older, it was quite striking how much our faces looked alike. Put some purple highlights in her hair, and Mum would’ve made an excellent Sadie stunt double.
“You’re talking about Walt,” I said at last. “This is a heart-to-heart chat about boys?”
Mum winced. “Yes, well…I’m afraid I’m rubbish at this. But I had to try. When I was a girl, Gran wasn’t much of a resource for me. I never felt I could talk to her.”
“I should think not.” I tried to imagine talking about guys with my grandmother while Gramps yelled at the telly and called for more tea and burnt biscuits.