The Serpent's Shadow (Kane Chronicles #3)(75)

A weapon, I told Horus. I need a weapon.

I reached into the Duat and pulled out an ostrich feather.

“Really?” I yelled.

Horus didn’t answer.

Meanwhile the crew lights zipped around in a panic as the boat barreled toward the shore. The beach was easier to see now—black sand littered with bones and plumes of volcanic gas shooting from fiery crevices. Oh, good. Just the sort of place I wanted to crash land.

I dropped the ostrich feather and reached into the Duat again.

This time I pulled out a pair of familiar weapons—the crook and flail, symbols of the pharaoh. The crook was a gold-and-red shepherd’s rod with a curved end. The flail was a pole arm with three wicked-looking spiked chains. I’d seen lots of similar weapons. Every pharaoh had a set. But these looked disturbingly like the original pair—the weapons of the sun god that I’d found last spring buried in Zia’s tomb.

“What are these doing here?” I demanded. “These should be with Ra.”

Horus remained silent. I got the feeling he was as surprised as I was.

Bloodstained Blade stormed around the side of the wheelhouse. His uniform was ripped and covered in feathers. His blades had some new nicks, and he’d gotten the emergency bell wrapped around his left boot so it clanged as he walked. But he still looked better than me.

“Enough,” he hummed. “I have served the Kanes too long!”

Toward the bow of the ship, I heard the crank, crank, crank of the gangplank lowering. I glanced over and saw Setne strolling calmly across as the river churned beneath him. He stopped at the edge of the plank and waited as the boat raced toward the black sand beach. He was preparing to jump to safety. And tucked under his arm was a large papyrus scroll—the Book of Thoth.

“Setne!” I screamed.

He turned and waved, smiling pleasantly. “It’ll be fine, Carter! I’ll be right back!”

“Tas!” I yelled.

Instantly the Ribbons of Hathor encased him, scroll and all, and Setne pitched overboard into the water.

I hadn’t planned on that, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. Bloodstained Blade charged, his left foot going clump, BONG!, clump, BONG! I rolled sideways as his ax head cut the floor, but he recovered more quickly than I could. My ribs felt like they’d been dipped in acid. My arm was too weak to lift Ra’s flail. I raised the crook for defense, but I had no idea how to use it.

Bloodstained Blade loomed over me, humming with evil glee. I knew I couldn’t evade another attack. I was about to become two separate halves of Carter Kane.

“We are done!” he bellowed.

Suddenly, he erupted in a column of fire. His body vaporized. His metal ax head dropped, impaling itself in the deck between my feet.

I blinked, wondering if this was some sort of demon trick, but Bloodstained Blade was truly and completely gone. Beside the ax head, all that remained were his polished boots, a slightly melted alarm bell, and some charred goose feathers floating in the air.

A few feet away, Zia leaned against the wheelhouse. Her right hand was wrapped in flames.

“Yes,” Zia muttered to the smoking ax blade. “We’re done.”

She extinguished her fire, then stumbled over and embraced me. I was so relieved I could almost ignore the searing pain in my side.

“You’re okay,” I said, which sounded dumb under the circumstances, but she rewarded me with a smile.

“Fine,” she said. “Had a moment of panic. Woke up with blue energy all around me, but—”

I happened to glance behind her, and my stomach turned inside out.

“Hold on!” I yelled.

The Egyptian Queen rammed into the shore at full speed.

I now understand the whole thing about wearing seat belts.

Hanging on did absolutely no good. The boat ran aground with such force, Zia and I shot into the air like human cannonballs. The hull cracked apart behind us with an almighty ka-blam! The landscape hurtled toward my face. I had half a second to contemplate whether I would die by smacking into the ground or falling into a flaming crevice. Then, from above me, Zia grabbed my arm and hoisted me skyward.

I caught a glimpse of her, grim-faced and determined, holding on to me with one hand and hanging from the talons of a giant vulture with the other. Her amulet. I hadn’t thought about it in months, but Zia had a vulture amulet. She’d somehow managed to activate it, because she’s just awesome that way.

Unfortunately, the vulture wasn’t strong enough to hold two people aloft. It could only slow our fall, so instead of being smashed flat, Zia and I rolled hard against the black sandy soil, tumbling over each other right to the edge of a fiery crevice.

My chest felt like it had been stomped flat. Every muscle in my body ached, and I had double vision. But to my amazement, the sun god’s crook and flail were clasped tightly in my right hand. I hadn’t even realized I still had them.

Zia must’ve been in better shape than me (of course, I’d seen roadkill in better shape than me). She found the strength to drag me away from the fissure and down toward the beach.

“Ouch,” I said.

“Lie still.” She spoke a command word, and her vulture shrank back into a charm. She rummaged through her backpack.

She brought out a small ceramic jar and began rubbing blue paste on the cuts, burns, and bruises that covered my upper body. The pain in my side eased immediately. The wounds disappeared. Zia’s hands were smooth and warm. The magical unguent smelled like blossoming honeysuckle. It wasn’t the worst experience I’d had all day.