The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(122)

“This is the end of the House,” Set said with satisfaction. “They cannot prevail as long as my pyramid stands.”

The magicians seemed to know this. As they got closer, they sent fiery comets and bolts of lightning toward the pyramid; but each blast dissipated harmlessly against its stone slopes, consumed in the red haze of Set’s power.

Then I spotted the golden capstone. Four snake-headed giants had retrieved it and were carrying it slowly but steadily through the melee. Set’s lieutenant Face of Horror shouted orders to them, lashing them with a whip to keep them moving. They pressed forward until they reached the pyramid’s base and began to climb.

I charged toward them, but Set intervened in an instant, placing himself in my path.

“I don’t think so, Horus,” he laughed. “You won’t ruin this party.”

We both summoned our weapons to our hands and fought with renewed ferocity, slicing and dodging. I brought my sword down in a deadly arc, but Set ducked aside and my blade hit stone, sending a shock wave through my whole body. Before I could recover, Set spoke a word: “Ha-wi!”

Strike.

The hieroglyphs exploded in my face and sent me tumbling down the side of the pyramid.

When my vision cleared, I saw Face of Horror and the snake-headed giants far above me, lugging their golden load up the side of the monument, only a few steps from the top.

“No,” I muttered. I tried to rise, but my avatar form was sluggish.

Then out of nowhere a magician catapulted into the midst of the demons and unleashed a gale of wind. Demons went flying, dropping the capstone, and the magician struck it with his staff, stopping it from sliding. The magician was Desjardins. His forked beard and robes and leopard-skin cape were singed with fire, and his eyes were full of rage. He pressed his staff against the capstone, and its golden shape began to glow; but before Desjardins could destroy it, Set rose up behind him and swung his iron rod like a baseball bat.

Desjardins tumbled, broken and unconscious, all the way down the pyramid, disappearing into the mob of demons. My heart twisted. I’d never liked Desjardins, but no one deserved a fate like that.

“Annoying,” Set said. “But not effective. This is what the House of Life has reduced itself to, eh, Horus?”

I charged up the slope, and again our weapons clanged together. We fought back and forth as gray light began to seep through the cracks in the mountain above us.

Horus’s keen senses told me we had about two minutes until sunrise, maybe less.

Horus’s energy kept surging through me. My avatar was only mildly damaged, my attacks still swift and strong. But it wasn’t enough to defeat Set, and Set knew it. He was in no hurry. With every minute, another magician went down on the battlefield, and chaos got closer to winning.

Patience, Horus urged. We fought him for seven years the first time.

But I knew we didn’t have seven minutes, much less seven years. I wished Sadie were here, but I could only hope she’d managed to free Dad and keep Zia and Amos safe.

That thought distracted me. Set swept his staff at my feet, and instead of jumping, I tried to back up. The blow cracked against my right ankle, knocking me off balance and sending me somersaulting down the pyramid’s side.

Set laughed. “Have a nice trip!” Then he picked up the capstone.

I rose, groaning, but my feet were like lead. I staggered up the slope, but before I’d closed even half the distance, Set placed the capstone and completed the structure. Red light flowed down the sides of the pyramid with a sound like the world’s largest bass guitar, shaking the entire mountain and making my whole body go numb.

“Thirty seconds to sunrise!” Set yelled with glee. “And this land will be mine forever. You can’t stop me alone, Horus—especially not in the desert, the source of my strength!”

“You’re right,” said a nearby voice.

I glanced over and saw Sadie rising from the air vent—radiant with multicolored light, her staff and wand glowing.

“Except Horus is not alone,” she said. “And we’re not going to fight you in the desert.”

She struck her staff against the pyramid and shouted a name: the last words I’d ever expect her to utter as a battle cry.

Chapter 39. Zia Tells Me a Secret

CHEERS, CARTER, FOR MAKING ME LOOK dramatic and all that.

The truth was a bit less glamorous.

Back up, shall we? When my brother, the crazy chicken warrior, turned into a falcon and went up the pyramid’s chimney with his new friend, the fruit bat, he left me playing nurse to two very wounded people—which I didn’t appreciate, and which I wasn’t particularly good at.

Poor Amos’s wounds seemed more magical than physical. He didn’t have a mark on him, but his eyes were rolled up in his head, and he was barely breathing. Steam curled from his skin when I touched his forehead, so I decided I’d best leave him for the moment.

Zia was another story. Her face was deathly pale, and she was bleeding from several nasty cuts on her leg. One of her arms was twisted at a bad angle. Her breath rattled with a sound like wet sand.

“Hold still.” I ripped some cloth from the hem of my pants and tried to bind her leg. “Maybe there’s some healing magic or—”

“Sadie.” She gripped my wrist feebly. “No time. Listen.”

“If we can stop the bleeding—”