The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(117)

“I’ll accompany Amos—I mean the Chief Lector—to the First Nome,” she promised. “I’ll make sure he is recognized as the leader of the House.”

“They’ll oppose you,” I said. “Be careful.”

Amos smiled. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

He was dressed in his usual dapper style: a gold silk suit that matched his new leopard-skin cape, a porkpie hat, and gold beads in his braided hair. At his side sat a leather duffel bag and a saxophone case. I imagined him sitting on the steps of the pharaoh’s throne, playing tenor sax—John Coltrane, perhaps—as a new age unfolded in purple light and glowing hieroglyphs popped out of his horn.

“I’ll keep in touch,” he promised. “Besides, you have things well in hand here at Brooklyn House. You don’t need a mentor anymore.”

I tried to look brave, though I hated his leaving. Just because I was thirteen didn’t mean I wanted adult responsibilities. Certainly I didn’t want to run the Twenty-first Nome or lead armies into war. But I suppose no one who’s put in such a position ever feels ready.

Zia put her hand on Carter’s arm. He jumped as if she’d touched him with a defibrillator paddle.

“We’ll talk soon,” she said, “after…after things have settled. But, thank you.”

Carter nodded, though he looked crestfallen. We all knew things wouldn’t settle anytime soon. There was no guarantee we’d even live long enough to see Zia again.

“Take care of yourself,” Carter said. “You’ve got an important role to play.”

Zia glanced at me. A strange sort of understanding passed between us. I think she’d begun to have a suspicion, a deep-seated dread, about what her role might be. I can’t say I understood it yet myself, but I shared her disquiet. Zebras, Ra had said. He’d woken up talking about zebras.

“If you need us,” I said, “don’t hesitate. I’ll pop over and give those First Nome magicians a proper thrashing.”

Amos kissed my forehead. He patted Carter on the shoulder. “You’ve both made me proud. You’ve given me hope for the first time in years.”

I wanted them to stay longer. I wanted to talk with them a bit more. But my experience with Khonsu had taught me not to be greedy about time. It was best to appreciate what you had and not yearn for more.

Amos and Zia stepped through the portal and disappeared.

Just as the sun was setting, an exhausted-looking Bast appeared in the Great Room. Instead of her usual bodysuit, she wore a formal Egyptian dress and heavy jewelry that looked quite uncomfortable.

“I’d forgotten how hard it is riding the sun boat through the sky,” she said, wiping her brow. “And hot. Next time, I’ll bring a saucer and a cooler full of milk.”

“Is Ra okay?” I asked.

The cat goddess pursed her lips. “Well…he’s the same. I steered the boat to the throne room of the gods. They’re getting a fresh crew ready for tonight’s journey. But you should come see him before he leaves.”

“Tonight’s journey?” Carter asked. “Through the Duat? We just brought him back!”

Bast spread her hands. “What did you expect? You’ve restarted the ancient cycle. Ra will spend the days in the heavens and the nights on the river. The gods will have to guard him as they used to. Come on; we only have a few minutes.”

I was about to ask how she planned on getting us to the gods’ throne room. Bast had repeatedly told us she’s no good at summoning portals. Then a door of pure shadow opened in the middle of the air. Anubis stepped through, looking annoyingly gorgeous as usual in his black jeans and leather jacket, with a white cotton shirt that hugged his chest so well I wondered if he was showing off on purpose. I suspected not. He probably rolled out of bed in the morning looking that perfect.

Right…that image did not help improve my concentration.

“Hello, Sadie,” he said. [Yes, Carter. He addressed me first, too. What can I say? I’m just that important.]

I tried to look cross with him. “So it’s you. Missed you in the underworld while we were gambling our souls away.”

“Yes, I’m glad you survived,” he said. “Your eulogy would’ve been hard to write.”

“Oh, ha-ha. Where were you?”

Extra sadness crept into his brown eyes. “A side project,” he said. “But right now, we should hurry.”

He gestured toward the door of darkness. Just to show him I wasn’t afraid, I marched through first.

On the other side, we found ourselves in the throne room of the gods. A crowd of assembled deities turned to face us. The palace seemed even grander than the last time we’d been there. The columns were taller, more intricately painted. The polished marble floor swirled with constellation designs, as if we were stepping across the galaxy. The ceiling blazed like one giant fluorescent panel. The dais and throne of Horus had been moved to one side, so it looked more like an observer’s chair now, rather than the main event.

In the center of the room, the sun boat glowed in dry dock scaffolding. Its light-orb crew fluttered about, cleaning the hull and checking the rigging. Uraei circled the throne of fire, where Ra sat dressed in the raiment of an Egyptian king, his flail and crook in his lap. His chin was on his chest, and he snored loudly.