The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(36)

I managed to light my staff. Babi stepped back. Nekhbet fluttered on her lamppost. Their forms shimmered briefly. The river was weakening them, loosening their connection to the mortal world like interference on a mobile phone line. But it wasn’t enough.

Nekhbet must’ve seen the desperation in my face. She was a vulture. She specialized in knowing when her prey was finished.

“A good last effort, child,” she said, almost with appreciation, “but you have nothing left. Babi, attack!”

The baboon god reared up on his back legs. I got ready to charge and deliver one final burst of energy—to tap into my own life source and hopefully vaporize the gods. I had to make sure Liz and Emma survived.

Then the limo’s door opened behind me. Bes announced: “No one is attacking anyone! Except me, of course.”

Nekhbet shrieked in alarm. I turned to see what was going on. Immediately, I wished I could burn my eyes out of my head.

Liz made a gagging sound. “Lord, no! That’s wrong!”

“Agh!” Emma shouted, in perfect baboon-speak. “Make him stop!”

Bes had indeed put on his ugly outfit. He climbed onto the roof of the limo and stood there, legs planted, arms akimbo, like Superman—except with only the underwear.

For those faint of heart, I won’t go into great detail, but Bes, all of a meter tall, was showing off his disgusting physique —his potbelly, hairy limbs, awful feet, gross flabby bits—and wearing only a blue Speedo. Imagine the worst looking person you’ve ever seen on a public beach—the person for whom swimwear should be illegal. Bes looked worse than that.

I wasn’t sure what to say except: “Put on some clothes!”

Bes laughed—the sort of guffaw that says Ha-ha! I’m amazing!

“Not until they leave,” he said. “Or I’ll be forced to scare them back to the Duat.”

“This is not your affair, dwarf god!” Nekhbet snarled, averting her eyes from his horribleness. “Go away!”

“These children are under my protection,” Bes insisted.

“I don’t know you,” I said. “I never met you before today.”

“Nonsense. You expressly asked for my protection.”

“I didn’t ask for the Speedo Patrol!”

Bes leaped off the limo and landed in front of my circle, placing himself between Babi and me. The dwarf was even more horrible from behind. His back was so hairy it looked like a mink coat. And on the back of his Speedo was printed DWARF PRIDE.

Bes and Babi circled each other like wrestlers. The baboon god swiped at Bes, but the dwarf was agile. He scrambled up Babi’s chest and head-butted him in the nose. Babi staggered backward as the dwarf continued pounding away, using his face as a deadly weapon.

“Don’t hurt him!” I yelled. “It’s my Gramps in there!”

Babi slumped against the railing. He blinked, trying to regain his bearings, but Bes breathed on him, and the smell of curry must’ve been too much. The baboon’s knees buckled. His body shimmered and began to shrink. He crumpled on the pavement and melted into a stocky gray-haired pensioner in a tattered cardigan.

“Gramps!” I couldn’t stand it. I left the protective circle and ran to his side.

“He’ll be fine,” Bes promised. Then he turned toward the vulture goddess. “Now it’s your turn, Nekhbet. Leave.”

“I stole this body fair and square!” she wailed. “I like it in here!”

“You asked for it.” Bes rubbed his hands, took a deep breath, and did something I will never be able to erase from my memory.

If I simply said he made a face and yelled BOO, that would be technically correct, but it wouldn’t begin to convey the horror.

His head swelled. His jaw unhinged until his mouth was four times too big. His eyes bulged like grapefruits. His hair stuck straight up like Bast’s. He shook his face and waggled his slimy green tongue and roared BOOOO! so loudly, the sound rolled across the Thames like a cannon shot. This blast of pure ugly blew the feathers off Nekhbet’s cloak and drained all the color from her face. It ripped away the essence of the goddess like tissue paper in a storm. The only thing left was a dazed old woman in a flower-print dress, squatting on the lamppost.

“Oh, dear…” Gran fainted.

Bes jumped up and caught her before she could topple into the river. The dwarf’s face went back to normal—well, normally ugly, at least—as he eased Gran onto the pavement next to Gramps.

“Thank you,” I told Bes. “Now, will you please put on some clothes?”

He gave me a toothy grin, which I could have lived without. “You’re all right, Sadie Kane. I see why Bast likes you.”

“Sadie?” my grandfather groaned, his eyelids fluttering open.

“I’m here, Gramps.” I stroked his forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Strange craving for mangoes.” He went cross-eyed. “And possibly insects. You…you saved us?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “My friend here—”

“Certainly she saved you,” Bes said. “Brave girl you have here. Quite a magician.”

Gramps focused on Bes and scowled. “Bloody Egyptian gods in their bloody revealing swimwear. This is why we don’t do magic.”