The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(101)

For someone who’d been smoking hot only a few minutes before, I suddenly felt terribly chilly. “Menshikov,” I said. “He was here.”

Carter drew his wand and scanned the room. “But where is he? Why would he just drop that and walk away?”

“He left it on purpose,” I guessed. “He wants to taunt us.”

As soon as I said it, I knew it was true. I could almost hear Menshikov laughing as he continued his journey downriver, leaving us behind.

“We have to get to the boat!” I said. “Hurry, before—”

“Sadie.” Bes pointed to the nurses’ station. His expression was grim.

“Oh, no,” Tawaret said. “No, no, no…”

On the sundial, the needle’s shadow was pointing to eight. That meant even if we could still leave the Fourth House, even if we could get through the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Houses, it wouldn’t matter. According to what Tawaret had told us, the gates of the Eighth House would already be closed.

No wonder Menshikov had left us here without bothering to fight us.

We’d already lost.

21. We Buy Some Time

AFTER SAYING GOOD-BYE TO Zia at the Great Pyramid, I didn’t think I could possibly get more depressed. I was wrong.

Standing on the docks of the Lake of Fire, I felt like I might as well do a cannonball into the lava.

It wasn’t fair. We’d come all this way and risked so much just to be beaten by a time limit. Game over. How was anyone supposed to succeed in bringing back Ra? It was impossible.

Carter, this isn’t a game, the voice of Horus said inside my head. It isn’t supposed to be possible. You must keep going.

I didn’t see why. The gates of the Eighth House were already closed. Menshikov had sailed on and left us behind.

Maybe that had been his plan all along. He’d let us wake Ra only partially so the sun god remained old and feeble. Then Menshikov would leave us trapped in the Duat while he used whatever evil magic he’d planned to free Apophis. When the dawn came, there would be no sunrise, no return of Ra. Instead Apophis would rise and destroy civilization. Our friends would have fought all night at Brooklyn House for nothing. Twenty-four hours from now, when we finally managed to leave the Duat, we’d find the world a dark, frozen wasteland, ruled by Chaos. Everything we cared about would be gone. Then Apophis could swallow Ra and complete his victory.

Why should we keep charging forward when the battle was lost?

A general never shows despair, Horus said. He instills confidence in his troops. He leads them forward, even into the mouth of death.

You’re Mr. Cheerful, I thought. Who invited you back into my head?

But as irritating as Horus was, he had a point. Sadie had talked about hope—about believing that we could make Ma’at out of Chaos, even if it seemed impossible. Maybe that was all we could do: keep on trying, keep on believing we could salvage something from the disaster.

Amos, Zia, Walt, Jaz, Bast, and our young trainees…all of them were counting on us. If our friends were still alive, I couldn’t give up. I owed them better than that.

Tawaret escorted us to the sun boat while a couple of her shabti carried Ra aboard.

“Bes, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I wish there was more I could do.”

“It’s not your fault.” Bes held out his hand like he wanted to shake, but when their fingers touched, he clasped hers. “Tawaret, it was never your fault.”

She sniffled. “Oh, Bes…”

“Wheee!” Ra interrupted as the shabti set him in the boat. “See zebras! Wheee!”

Bes cleared his throat.

Tawaret let go of his hands. “You—you should go. Perhaps Aaru will provide an answer.”

“Aaru?” I asked. “Who’s that?”

Tawaret didn’t exactly smile, but her eyes softened with kindness. “Not who, my dear. Where. It’s the Seventh House. Tell your father hello.”

My spirits lifted just a little. “Dad will be there?”

“Good luck, Carter and Sadie.” Tawaret kissed us both on the cheek, which felt sort of like getting sideswiped by a friendly, bristly, slightly moist blimp.

The goddess looked at Bes, and I was sure she was going to cry. Then she turned and hurried up the steps, her shabti behind her.

“Weasels are sick,” Ra said thoughtfully.

On that bit of godly wisdom, we boarded the ship. The glowing crew lights manned the oars, and the sun boat pulled away from the docks.

“Eat.” Ra began gumming a piece of rope.

“No, you can’t eat that, you old git,” Sadie chided.

“Uh, kid?” Bes said. “Maybe you shouldn’t call the king of the gods an old git.”

“Well, he is,” Sadie said. “Come on, Ra. Come into the tent. I want to see something.”

“No tent,” he muttered. “Zebras.”

Sadie tried to grab his arm, but he crawled away from her and stuck out his tongue. Finally she took the pharaoh’s crook from my belt (without asking, of course) and waved it like a dog bone. “Want the crook, Ra? Nice tasty crook?”

Ra grabbed for it weakly. Sadie backed up and eventually managed to coax Ra into the pavilion. As soon as he reached the empty dais, a brilliant light exploded around him, completely blinding me.