“Thought you’d want to see this.” She held up the cat’s cradle. A video image flickered across its surface like on a computer screen.
I saw the Hall of the Gods with its soaring columns and polished floors, its braziers burning with a hundred multicolored fires. On the central dais, the sun boat had been replaced with a golden throne. Horus sat there in his human form—a bald muscular teen in full battle armor. He held a crook and flail across his lap, and his eyes gleamed—one silver, one gold. At his right stood Isis, smiling proudly, her rainbow wings shimmering. On his left stood Set, the red-skinned Chaos god with his iron staff. He looked quite amused, as if he had all sorts of wicked things planned for later. The other gods knelt as Horus addressed them. I scanned the crowd for Anubis—with or without Walt—but again, I didn’t see him.
I couldn’t hear the words, but I reckoned it was a similar speech to the one Carter had delivered to the House of Life.
“He’s doing the same thing I did,” Carter protested. “I bet he even stole my speech. That copycat!”
Bast clucked disapprovingly. “No need to call names, Carter. Cats are not copiers. We are all unique. But, yes, what you do as pharaoh in the mortal world will often be mirrored in the world of the gods. Horus and you, after all, rule the forces of Egypt.”
“That,” I said, “is a truly scary thought.”
Carter swatted me lightly on the arm. “I just can’t believe that Horus left without even a good-bye. It’s as if he tossed me aside as soon as he was done using me, and then forgot about me.”
“Oh, no,” Bast said. “Gods wouldn’t do that. He simply had to leave.”
But I wondered. Gods were rather selfish creatures, even those who weren’t cats. Isis hadn’t given me a proper good-bye or thank-you either.
“Bast, you’re coming with us, aren’t you?” I pleaded. “I mean, this silly exile can’t apply to you! We need our nap instructor at Brooklyn House.”
Bast wadded up her ball of yarn and tossed it down the steps. Her expression was quite sad for a feline. “Oh, my kittens. If I could, I would pick you up by the scruffs of your necks and carry you forever. But you’ve grown. Your claws are sharp, your eyesight is keen, and cats must make their own way in the world. I must say farewell for now, though I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
I wanted to protest that I hadn’t grown up and I didn’t even have claws.
(Carter disagrees, but what does he know?)
But part of me knew Bast was right. We’d been lucky to have her with us for so long. Now we had to be adult cats—er, humans.
“Oh, Muffin…” I hugged her fiercely, and could feel her purring.
She ruffled my hair. Then she rubbed Carter’s ears, which was quite funny.
“Go on, now,” she said. “Before I start to mewl. Besides…” She fixed her eyes on the ball of yarn, which had rolled to the bottom of the steps. She crouched and tensed her shoulders. “I have some hunting to do.”
“We’ll miss you, Bast,” I said, trying not to cry. “Good hunting.”
“Yarn,” she said absently, creeping down the steps. “Dangerous prey, yarn…”
Carter and I stepped through the portal. This time it deposited us onto the roof of Brooklyn House.
We had one more surprise. Standing by Freak’s roost, Walt was waiting. He smiled when he saw me, and my legs felt wobbly.
“I’ll, um, be inside,” Carter said.
Walt walked over, and I tried to remember how to breathe.
S A D I E
22. The Last Waltz (for Now)
HE’D CHANGED HIS LOOK AGAIN.
His amulets were gone except for one—the shen that matched mine. He wore a black muscle shirt, black jeans, a black leather duster, and black combat boots—a sort of mix of Anubis’s and Walt’s styles, but it made him look like someone entirely different and new. Yet his eyes were quite familiar—warm, dark brown, and lovely. When he smiled, my heart fluttered as it always had.
“So,” I said, “is this another good-bye? I’ve had quite enough good-byes today.”
“Actually,” Walt said, “it’s more of a hello. My name’s Walt Stone, from Seattle. I’d like to join the party.”
He held out his hand, still smiling slyly. He was repeating exactly what he’d said the first time we met, when he arrived at Brooklyn House last spring.