Sadie and I hoped that with a more powerful magic statue, both of us working together might be able to execrate Apophis completely, or at least throw him so deep into the Duat that he’d never return.
That was Plan B. But we knew such a powerful spell would tap so much energy, it would cost us our lives. Unless we found another way.
Statues as shadows, shadows as statues.
Plan C began forming in my mind—an idea so crazy, I didn’t want to put it into words.
“Horus,” I said carefully, “does Apophis have a shadow?”
The pigeon blinked its red eyes. “What a question! Why would you…?” He glanced down at the red statue. “Oh…Oh. That’s clever, actually. Certifiably insane, but clever. You think Setne’s version of the Book of Overcoming Apophis, the one Apophis was so anxious to destroy…you think it contained a secret spell for—”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s worth asking Thoth. Maybe he knows something.”
“Maybe,” Horus said grudgingly. “But I still think a frontal assault is the way to go.”
“Of course you do.”
The pigeon bobbed its head. “We are strong enough, you and I. We should combine forces, Carter. Let me share your form as I once did. We could lead the armies of gods and men and defeat the serpent. Together, we’ll rule the world.”
The idea might have been more tempting if I hadn’t been looking at a plump bird with Cheerio dust on its plumage. Letting the pigeon rule the world sounded like a bad idea.
“I’ll get back to you on that,” I said. “First, I should talk to Thoth.”
“Bah.” Horus flapped his wings. “He’s st
ill in Memphis, at that ridiculous sports stadium of his. But if you plan on seeing him, I wouldn’t wait too long.”
“Why not?”
“That’s what I came to tell you,” Horus said. “Matters are getting complicated among the gods. Apophis is dividing us, attacking us one by one, just as he’s doing with you magicians. Thoth was the first to suffer.”
“Suffer…how?”
The pigeon puffed up. A wisp of smoke curled from its beak. “Oh, dear. My host is self-destructing. It can’t hold my spirit for much longer. Just hurry, Carter. I’m having trouble keeping the gods together, and that old man Ra isn’t helping our morale. If you and I don’t lead our armies soon, we may not have any armies left to lead.”
“But—”
The pigeon hiccupped another wisp of smoke. “Gotta go. Good luck.”
Horus flew out the window, leaving me alone with the statuette of Apophis and a few gray feathers.
I slept like a mummy. That was the good part. The bad part was that Bast let me sleep until the afternoon.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I demanded. “I’ve got things to do!”
Bast spread her hands. “Sadie insisted. You had a rough night last night. She said you needed your rest. Besides, I’m a cat. I respect the sanctity of sleep.”
I was still mad, but part of me knew Sadie was right. I’d expended a lot of magical energy the previous night and had gone to sleep really late. Maybe—just maybe—Sadie had my best interests at heart.
(I just caught her making faces at me, so maybe not.)
I showered and dressed. By the time the other kids got back from school, I was feeling almost human again.
Yes, I said school, as in normal old school. We’d spent last spring tutoring all the initiates at Brooklyn House, but with the start of the fall semester, Bast had decided that the kids could use a dose of regular mortal life. Now they went to a nearby academy in Brooklyn during the day and learned magic in the afternoons and on weekends.
I was the only one who stayed behind. I’d always been homeschooled. The idea of dealing with lockers, schedules, textbooks, and cafeteria food on top of running the Twenty-first Nome was just too much for me.
You’d think the other kids would have complained, especially Sadie. But, in fact, attending school was working out okay for them. The girls were happy to have more friends (and less dorky boys to flirt with, they claimed). The guys could play sports with actual teams rather than one-on-one with Khufu using Egyptian statues for hoops. As for Bast, she was happy to have a quiet house so she could stretch out on the floor and snooze in the sunlight.