The Red Pyramid
Page 32

Carter hesitated. “Probably not.”
“Well, there you are. I think Dad and Mum were up to something bigger, something they didn’t complete. Possibly that’s what Dad was after at the British Museum—completing the task, whatever it was. Making things right. And this whole business about our family going back a billion years to some god-hosting pharaohs—why didn’t anyone tell us? Why didn’t Dad?”
Carter didn’t answer for a long time.
“Maybe Dad was protecting us,” he said. “The House of Life doesn’t trust our family, especially after what Dad and Mom did. Amos said we were raised apart for a reason, so we wouldn’t, like, trigger each other’s magic.”
“Bloody awful reason to keep us apart,” I muttered.
Carter looked at me strangely, and I realized what I’d said might have been construed as a compliment.
“I just mean they should’ve been honest,” I rushed on. “Not that I wanted more time with my annoying brother, of course.”
He nodded seriously. “Of course.”
We sat listening to the magic hum of the obelisk. I tried to remember the last time Carter and I had simply spent time like this together, talking.
“Is your, um...” I tapped the side of my head. “Your friend being any help?”
“Not much,” he admitted. “Yours?”
I shook my head. “Carter, are you scared?”
“A little.” He dug his wand into the carpet. “No, a lot.”
I looked at the blue book we’d stolen—pages full of wonderful secrets I couldn’t read. “What if we can’t do it?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “That book about mastering the element of cheese would’ve been more helpful.”
“Or summoning fruit bats.”
“Please, not the fruit bats.”
We shared a weary smile, and it felt rather good. But it changed nothing. We were still in serious trouble with no clear plan.
“Why don’t you sleep on it?” he suggested. “You used a lot of energy today. I’ll keep watch until Bast gets back.”
He actually sounded concerned for me. How cute.
I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to miss anything. But I realized my eyelids were incredibly heavy.
“All right, then,” I said. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
I lay down to sleep, but my soul—my ba—had other ideas.
Chapter 20. I Visit the Star-Spangled Goddess
I HADN’T REALIZED HOW UNSETTLING it would be. Carter had explained how his ba left his body while he slept, but having it happen to me was another thing altogether. It was much worse than my vision in the Hall of Ages.
There I was, floating in the air as a glowing birdlike spirit. And there was my body below me, fast asleep. Just trying to describe it gives me a headache.
My first thought as I gazed down on my sleeping form: God, I look awful. Bad enough looking in a mirror or seeing pictures of myself on my friends’ Web pages. Seeing myself in person was simply wrong. My hair was a rat’s nest, the linen pajamas were not in the least flattering, and the spot on my chin was enormous.
My second thought as I examined the strange shimmering form of my ba: This won’t do at all. I didn’t care if I was invisible to the mortal eye or not. After my bad experience as a kite, I simply refused to go about as a glowing Sadie-headed chicken. That’s fine for Carter, but I have standards.
I could feel the currents of the Duat tugging at me, trying to pull my ba to wherever souls go when they have visions, but I wasn’t ready. I concentrated hard, and imagined my normal appearance (well, all right, perhaps my appearance as I’d like it to be, a bit better than normal). And voilà, my ba morphed into a human form, still see-through and glowing, mind you, but more like a proper ghost.
Well, at least that’s sorted, I thought. And I allowed the currents to sweep me away. The world melted to black.
At first, I was nowhere—just a dark void. Then a young man stepped out of the shadows.
“You again,” he said.
I stammered. “Uh...”
Honestly, you know me well enough by now. That’s not like me. But this was the boy I’d seen in my Hall of Ages vision—the very handsome boy with the black robes and tousled hair. His dark brown eyes had the most unnerving effect on me, and I was very glad I’d changed out of my glowing chicken outfit.
I tried again, and managed three entire words. “What are you...”
“Doing here?” he said, gallantly finishing my sentence. “Spirit travel and death are very similar.”
“Not sure what that means,” I said. “Should I be worried?”
He tilted his head as if considering the question. “Not this trip. She only wants to talk to you. Go ahead.”
He waved his hand and a doorway opened in the darkness. I was pulled towards it.
“See you again?” I asked.
But the boy was gone.
I found myself standing in a luxury flat in the middle of the sky. It had no walls, no ceiling, and a see-through floor looking straight down at city lights from the height of an airplane. Clouds drifted below my feet. The air should’ve been freezing cold and too thin to breathe, but I felt warm and comfortable.
Black leather sofas made a U round a glass coffee table on a blood-red rug. A fire burned in a slate fireplace. Bookshelves and paintings hovered in the air where the walls should’ve been. A black granite bar stood in the corner, and in the shadows behind it, a woman was making tea.
“Hello, my child,” she said.
She stepped into the light, and I gasped. She wore an Egyptian kilt from the waist down. From the waist up, she wore only a bikini top, and her skin...her skin was dark blue, covered with stars. I don’t mean painted stars. She had the entire cosmos living on her skin: gleaming constellations, galaxies too bright to look at, glowing nebulae of pink and blue dust. Her features seemed to disappear into the stars that shifted across her face. Her hair was long and as black as midnight.
“You’re the Nut,” I said. Then I realized maybe that had come out wrong. “I mean...the sky goddess.”
The goddess smiled. Her bright white teeth were like a new galaxy bursting into existence. “Nut is fine. And believe me, I’ve heard all the jokes about my name.”
She poured a second cup from her teapot. “Let’s sit and talk. Care for some sahlab?”
“Uh, it’s not tea?”
“No, an Egyptian drink. You’ve heard of hot chocolate? This is rather like hot vanilla.”
I would’ve preferred tea, as I hadn’t had a proper cup in ages. But I supposed one didn’t turn down a goddess. “Um...yeah. Thanks.”
We sat together on the sofa. To my surprise, my glowing spirity hands had no trouble holding a teacup, and I could drink quite easily. The sahlab was sweet and tasty, with just a hint of cinnamon and coconut. It warmed me up nicely and filled the air with the smell of vanilla. For the first time in days I felt safe. Then I remembered I was only here in spirit.
Nut set down her cup. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.”
“Where exactly is ‘here’? And, ah, who’s your doorman?”
I hoped she’d drop some information about the boy in black, but she only smiled. “I must keep my secrets, dear. I can’t have the House of Life trying to find me. Let’s just say I’ve built this home with a nice city view.”
“Is that...” I gestured to her starry blue skin. “Um...are you inside a human host?”
“No, dear. The sky itself is my body. This is merely a manifestation.”
“But I thought—”
“Gods need a physical host outside the Duat? It’s somewhat easier for me, being a spirit of the air. I was one of the few gods who was never imprisoned, because the House of Life could never catch me. I’m used to being...free-form.” Suddenly Nut and the entire apartment flickered. I felt like I would drop through the floor. Then the sofa became stable again.
“Please don’t do that again,” I begged.
“My apologies,” Nut said. “The point is, each god is different. But all my brethren are free now, all finding places in this modern world of yours. They won’t be imprisoned again.”
“The magicians won’t like that.”
“No,” Nut agreed. “That’s the first reason you are here. A battle between the gods and the House of Life would serve only chaos. You must make the magicians understand this.”
“They won’t listen to me. They think I’m a godling.”
“You are a godling, dear.” She touched my hair gently, and I felt Isis stirring within me, struggling to speak using my voice.
“I’m Sadie Kane,” I said. “I didn’t ask for Isis to hitch a ride.”
“The gods have known your family for generations, Sadie. In the olden days, we worked together for the benefit of Egypt.”
“The magicians said that gods caused the fall of the empire.”
“That is a long and pointless debate,” Nut said, and I could hear an edge of anger in her voice. “All empires fall. But the idea of Egypt is eternal—the triumph of civilization, the forces of Ma’at overcoming the forces of chaos. That battle is fought generation after generation. Now it’s your turn.”
“I know, I know,” I said. “We have to defeat Set.”
“But is it that simple, Sadie? Set is my son, too. In the old days, he was Ra’s strongest lieutenant. He protected the sun god’s boat from the serpent Apophis. Now there was evil. Apophis was the embodiment of chaos. He hated Creation from the moment the first mountain appeared out of the sea. He hated the gods, mortals, and everything they built. And yet Set fought against him. Set was one of us.”
“Then he turned evil?”
Nut shrugged. “Set has always been Set, for better or worse. But he is still part of our family. It is difficult to lose any member of your family...is it not?”
My throat tightened. “That’s hardly fair.”
“Don’t speak to me of fairness,” Nut said. “For five thousand years, I have been kept apart from my husband, Geb.”
I vaguely remembered Carter saying something about this, but it seemed different listening to her now, hearing the pain in her voice.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Punishment for bearing my children,” she said bitterly. “I disobeyed Ra’s wishes, and so he ordered my own father, Shu—”
“Hang on,” I said. “Shoe?”
“S-h-u,” she said. “The god of the wind.”
“Oh.” I wished these gods had names that weren’t common household objects. “Go on, please.”
“Ra ordered my father, Shu, to keep us apart, forever. I am exiled to the sky, while my beloved Geb cannot leave the ground.”
“What happens if you try?”
Nut closed her eyes and spread her hands. A hole opened where she was sitting, and she fell through the air. Instantly, the clouds below us flickered with lightning. Winds raged across the flat, throwing books off the shelves, ripping away paintings and flinging them into the void. My teacup leaped out of my hand. I grabbed the sofa to avoid getting blown away myself.