The Red Pyramid (Kane Chronicles #1)(125)

I was about to protest that I didn’t know, but the feather of truth kept me honest. The way was inside me—I’d seen it in Isis’s thoughts. I’d known what was coming ever since Anubis asked me that impossible question: “To save the world, would you sacrifice your father?”

“I don’t want to,” I said. “Please.”

“Osiris must take his throne,” my father said. “Through death, life. It is the only way. May Ma’at guide you, Sadie. I love you.”

And with that, his image dissipated.

Someone was calling my name.

I looked back and saw Zia trying to sit up, clutching weakly at her wand. “Sadie, what are you doing?”

All around us, the room was shaking. Cracks split the walls, as if a giant were using the pyramid as a punching bag.

How long had I been in a trance? I wasn’t sure, but I was out of time.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. The voice of Isis spoke almost immediately: Do you see now? Do you understand why I could not say more?

Anger built inside me, but I forced it down. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, we have a god to defeat.

I pictured myself stepping forward, merging with the soul of the goddess.

I’d shared power with Isis before, but this was different. My resolve, my anger, even my grief gave me confidence. I looked Isis straight in the eye (spiritually speaking), and we understood one another.

I saw her entire history—her early days grasping for power, using tricks and schemes to find the name of Ra. I saw her wedding with Osiris, her hopes and dreams for a new empire. Then I saw those dreams shattered by Set. I felt her anger and bitterness, her fierce pride and protectiveness for her young son, Horus. And I saw the pattern of her life repeating itself over and over again through the ages, through a thousand different hosts.

Gods have great power, Iskandar had said. But only humans have creativity, the power to change history.

I also felt my mother’s thoughts, like an imprint on the goddess’s memory: Ruby’s final moments and the choice she’d made. She’d given her life to start a chain of events. And the next move was mine.

“Sadie!” Zia called again, her voice weakening.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m going now.”

Zia studied my face, and obviously didn’t like what she saw. “You’re not fine. You’ve been badly shaken. Fighting Set in your condition would be suicide.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We have a plan.”

With that, I turned into a kite and flew up the airshaft towards the top of the pyramid.

Chapter 40. I Ruin a Rather Important Spell

I FOUND THAT THINGS WEREN’T GOING WELL UPSTAIRS.

Carter was a crumpled heap of chicken warrior on the slope of the pyramid. Set had just placed the capstone and was shouting, “Thirty seconds to sunrise!” In the cavern below, magicians from the House of Life waded through an army of demons, fighting a hopeless fight.

The scene would’ve been frightening enough, but now I saw it as Isis did. Like a crocodile with eyes at water level—seeing both below and above the surface—I saw the Duat entwined with the regular world. The demons had fiery souls in the Duat that made them look like an army of birthday candles. Where Carter stood in the mortal world, a falcon warrior stood in the Duat—not an avatar, but the real thing, with feathered head, sharp bloodstained beak, and gleaming black eyes. His sword rippled with golden light. As for Set—imagine a mountain of sand, doused with petrol, set on fire, spinning in the world’s largest blender. That’s what he looked like in the Duat—a column of destructive force so powerful that the stones at his feet bubbled and blistered.

I’m not sure what I looked like, but I felt powerful. The force of Ma’at coursed through me; the Divine Words were at my command. I was Sadie Kane, blood of the pharaohs. And I was Isis, goddess of magic, holder of the secret names.

As Carter struggled his way up the pyramid, Set gloated: “You can’t stop me by yourself, Horus—especially not in the desert, the source of my strength!”

“You’re right!” I called.

Set turned, and the look on his face was priceless. I raised my staff and wand, gathering my magic.

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

I slammed my staff against the stones and shouted, “Washington, D.C.!”

The pyramid shook. For a moment, nothing else happened.

Set seemed to realize what I was doing. He let out a nervous laugh. “Magic one-oh-one, Sadie Kane. You can’t open a portal during the Demon Days!”

“A mortal can’t,” I agreed. “But a goddess of magic can.”

Above us, the air crackled with lightning. The top of the cavern dissolved into a churning vortex of sand as large as the pyramid.

Demons stopped fighting and looked up in horror. Magicians stammered midspell, their faces slack with awe.

The vortex was so powerful that it ripped blocks off the pyramid and sucked them into the sand. And then, like a giant lid, the portal began to descend.

“No!” Set roared. He blasted the portal with flames, then turned on me and hurled stones and lightning, but it was too late. The portal swallowed us all.

The world seemed to flip upside down. For a heartbeat, I wondered if I’d made a terrible miscalculation—if Set’s pyramid would explode in the portal, and I’d spend eternity floating through the Duat as a billion little particles of Sadie sand. Then, with a sonic boom, we appeared in the cold morning air with a brilliant blue sky above us. Spread out below us were the snow-covered fields of the National Mall in Washington, D.C.