The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(54)

With her head bowed and her palms raised in supplication, she looked like the picture of humility; but I knew Isis too well. I could see the smile she was trying to hide. I could sense her elation.

“Lord Ra,” she said. “I live to serve you.”

“Ha!” Ra said. “You live for power, Isis. Don’t try to deceive me. I know you created the snake that bit me! That’s why no one else can find a cure. You desire my throne for your husband, the upstart Osiris.”

Isis started to protest, “My lord—”

“Enough! If I were a younger god—” Ra made the mistake of moving his leg. He yelped in pain. The green venom spread farther up his veins.

“Never mind.” He sighed miserably. “I am weary of this world. Enough scheming and plotting. Just cure the poison.”

“Gladly, my king. But I will need—”

“My secret name,” Ra said. “Yes, I know. Promise to heal me, and you will get all you desire…and more.”

I heard the warning in Ra’s voice, but either Isis didn’t notice, or she didn’t care.

“I swear to heal you,” she said.

“Then approach, goddess.”

Isis leaned forward. I thought Ra would whisper his name in her ear, but instead he grasped her hand and placed it against his withered brow. Her fingertips smoldered. She tried to pull away, but Ra held her wrist. The sun god’s entire form glowed with fiery images of his long life: the first dawn; his sun boat shining on the newly risen land of Egypt; the creation of the other gods and mortal men; Ra’s endless battles with Apophis as he passed through the Duat each night, keeping Chaos at bay. It was too much to take in—centuries passing with each heartbeat. His secret name was the sum of his experience, and even then, in those ancient times, Ra was unthinkably old. The fiery aura spread to Isis’s hand, traveling up her arm until her whole body was wreathed in flames. She screamed once. Then the fires died. Isis collapsed, smoke curling from her dress.

“So,” Ra said. “You survived.”

I couldn’t tell if he felt disappointment or grudging respect.

Isis rose unsteadily to her feet. She looked shell-shocked, as if she’d just strolled through a war zone, but she raised her hand. A fiery hieroglyph burned on her palm—Ra’s secret name, distilled into a single unbelievably powerful word.

She placed her hand on Ra’s poisoned leg and spoke a spell. The green venom retreated from his veins. The swelling subsided. The bandages fell away, and the two fang marks closed.

Ra reclined on his throne and sighed with relief. “At last. No pain.”

“My lord needs rest,” Isis suggested. “A long, long rest.”

The sun god opened his eyes. There was no fire in them now. They looked like the milky eyes of a mortal old man.

“Bast!” he called.

The cat goddess materialized at his side. She was dressed in Egyptian armor of leather and iron, and she seemed younger, though perhaps that was just because she hadn’t yet endured centuries in a prison abyss, fighting Apophis. I was tempted to shout to her and warn her about what was coming, but my voice wouldn’t work.

Bast gave Isis sideways look. “My lord, is this…woman bothering you?”

Ra shook his head. “Nothing will bother me much longer, my faithful cat. Come with me now. We have important matters to discuss before I depart.”

“My lord? Where are you going?”

“Into forced retirement.” Ra glared at Isis. “That is what you want, goddess of magic?”

Isis bowed.

“Never, my lord!” Bast drew her knives and stepped toward Isis, but Ra held out his arm.

“Enough, Bast,” he said. “I have another fight in mind for you—one last, crucial fight. As for you, Isis, you may think you have won because you mastered my secret name. Do you realize what you’ve started? Osiris may become pharaoh, but his reign will be short and bitter. His royal seat will be a pale reflection of my throne of fire. This boat will no longer ride the Duat. The balance between Ma’at and Chaos will slowly degrade. Egypt itself will fall. The names of her gods will fade to a distant memory. Then one day, the entire world will stand on the brink of destruction. You will cry out to Ra, and I will not be there. When that day comes, remember how your greed and ambition caused it to happen.”

“My lord.” Isis bowed respectfully, but I knew she wasn’t thinking about some distant future. She was drunk with her victory. She thought Osiris would rule Egypt forever, and that Ra was just an old fool. She did not know that in a short time, her victory would turn to tragedy. Osiris would be murdered by his brother, Set. And someday, Ra’s other predictions would come true as well.

“Let us go, Bast,” Ra said. “We are no longer wanted.”

The throne erupted in a column of flames, burning away the blue-and-gold canopy. A ball of fire ascended into the heavens until it was lost in the glare of the sun.

When the smoke cleared, Isis stood alone and laughed with delight.

“I did it!” she exclaimed. “Osiris, you will be king! I mastered the secret name of Ra!”

I wanted to tell her she had mastered nothing, but I could only watch as Isis danced across the boat. She was so pleased with her own success, she paid no attention to the magical servant lights disappearing. The lines dropped. The sail went slack. Oars trailed in the water, and the sun boat drifted down the river, unmanned.