The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(35)

It didn’t take much encouragement. None of us wanted to see any more of Bes than we had to. We got out, and Bes locked the doors behind us. The windows were heavily tinted, so I couldn’t see in. For all I knew Bes would be relaxing, listening to music while we got slaughtered. I certainly didn’t have much hope that a wardrobe change was going to defeat Nekhbet and Babi.

I looked at my frightened mates, then at the two gods charging toward us.

“We’ll make our last stand here.”

“Oh, no, no,” Liz said. “I really don’t like the term ‘last stand.’”

I rummaged through my bag and took out a piece of chalk and the four sons of Horus. “Liz, put these statues at the cardinal points—North, South, and so on. Emma, take the chalk. Draw a circle connecting the statues. We only have a few seconds.”

I traded her the chalk for my staff, then had a horrible flash of déjà vu. I’d just ordered my friends into action exactly as Zia Rashid had bossed me the first time we’d faced an enemy god together.

I didn’t want to be like Zia. On the other hand, I realized for the first time just how much courage she must’ve had to stand up to a goddess while protecting two complete novices. I hate to say it, but it gave me a newfound respect for her. I wished I had her bravery.

I raised my staff and wand and tried to focus. Time seemed to slow down. I reached out with my senses until I was aware of everything around me—Emma scrawling with chalk to finish the circle, Liz’s heart beating too fast, Babi’s massive feet pounding on the bridge as he ran toward us, the Thames flowing under the bridge, and the currents of the Duat flowing around me just as powerfully.

Bast once told me the Duat was like an ocean of magic under the surface of the mortal world. If that was true, then this place—a bridge over moving water—was like a jet stream. Magic flowed more strongly here. It could drown the unwary. Even gods might be swept away.

I tried to anchor myself by concentrating on the landscape around me. London was my city. From here I could see everything—the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, even Cleopatra’s Needle on the Victoria Embankment, where my mother had died. If I failed now, so close to where my mother had worked her last magic—No. I couldn’t let it come to that.

Babi was only a meter away when Emma finished the circle. I touched my staff to the chalk, and golden light flared up.

The baboon god slammed into my protective force field like it was a metal wall. He staggered backward. Nekhbet swerved away at the last second and flew around us, cawing in frustration.

Unfortunately, the circle’s light began to flicker. My mum had taught me at a very young age: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That applied to magic as well as science. The force of Babi’s assault left me seeing black spots. If he attacked again, I wasn’t sure I could hold the circle.

I wondered if I should step outside it, make myself the target. If I channeled energy into the circle first, it might maintain itself for a while, even if I died. At least, my friends would live.

Zia Rashid had probably been thinking the same thing last Christmas when she stepped outside her circle to protect Carter and me. She really had been annoyingly brave.

“Whatever happens to me,” I told my friends, “stay inside the circle.”

“Sadie,” Emma said, “I know that tone of voice. Whatever you’re planning, don’t.”

“You can’t leave us,” Liz pleaded. Then she shouted at Babi in a squeaky voice: “G-go away, you horrible foamy ape! My friend here doesn’t want to destroy you, but—but she will!”

Babi snarled. He was rather foamy, thanks to the Body Shop attack, and he smelled wonderful. Several different colors of shampoo foam and bath beads were matted in his silver fur.

Nekhbet hadn’t fared so well. She perched atop a nearby lamppost, looking as if she’d been assaulted by the entire contents of the West Cornwall Pasty Company. Bits of ham, cheese, and potato splattered her feathery cloak, giving testament to the brave enchanted meatpies that had given their brief lives to delay her. Her hair was decorated with plastic forks, napkins, and bits of pink newsprint. She looked quite keen to tear me to shreds.

The only good news: Babi’s minions evidently hadn’t made it out of the train station. I imagined a troop of pasty-splattered baboons shoved against police cars and handcuffed. It lifted my spirits somewhat.

Nekhbet snarled. “You surprised us at the station, Sadie Kane. I’ll admit that was well done. And bringing us to this bridge—a good try. But we are not so weak. You don’t have the strength to fight us any longer. If you cannot defeat us, you have no business raising Ra.”

“You lot should be helping me,” I said. “Not trying to stop me.”

“Uhh!” Babi barked.

“Indeed,” agreed the vulture goddess. “The strong survive without help. The weak must be killed and eaten. Which are you, child? Be honest.”

The truth? I was about to drop. The bridge seemed to be spinning beneath me. Sirens wailed on both banks of the river. More police had arrived at the barricades, but for now they made no effort to advance.

Babi bared his fangs. He was so close, I could smell his shampooed fur and his horrid breath. Then I looked at Gramps’s glasses still stuck on his head, and all my anger came back.

“Try me,” I said. “I follow the path of Isis. Cross me, and I’ll destroy you.”