The Throne of Fire (Kane Chronicles #2)(79)

“Sorry?” I asked.

“Your brother,” Ptah said. “He’s in a great deal of trouble.”

As exhausted, bedraggled, and covered with rat scratches as I was, that news set my nerves tingling. Carter needed help. I had to save my brother’s ridiculous hide.

“Can you send us there?” I asked.

Ptah smiled. “Thought you’d never ask.”

He pointed to the nearest wall. The stones dissolved into a portal of swirling sand.

“And, my dear, some words of advice.” Ptah’s milky eyes studied me. “Courage. Hope. Sacrifice.”

I wasn’t sure whether he was reading those qualities within me, or giving me a pep talk, or perhaps creating the traits I needed, the way he’d created the ba and the platypus. Whatever the case, I suddenly felt warmer inside, filled with new energy.

“You’re beginning to understand,” he told me. “Words are the source of all power. And names are more than just a collection of letters. Well done, Sadie. You may succeed yet.”

I stared at the funnel of sand. “What will we face on the other side?”

“Enemies and friends,” Ptah said. “But which are which, I can’t say. If you survive, go to the top of the Great Pyramid. That should do nicely for an entry point into the Duat. When you read the Book of Ra—“

He choked, doubling over and dropping his rifle.

“I must go,” he said, straightening with a great deal of effort. “This host can’t stand any more. But, Walt…” He smiled sadly. “Thank you for the beef jerky and juice. There is an answer for you. It’s not one you’ll like, but it is the best way.”

“What do you mean?” Walt asked. “What answer?”

The farmer blinked. Suddenly his eyes were normal. He looked at us in surprise, then yelled something in Arabic and raised his gun.

I grabbed Walt’s hand, and together we jumped into the portal.

17. Menshikov Hires a Happy Death Squad

I GUESS WE’RE EVEN, SADIE. First, Walt and I rushed off to save you in London. Then, you and Walt rushed off to save me. The only one who got shafted on both deals was Walt. Poor guy gets hauled all over the world pulling us out of trouble. But I’ll admit I needed the help.

Bes was locked in a glowing fluorescent cage. Zia was convinced we were enemies. My sword and wand were gone. I was holding a crook and flail that were apparently stolen property, and two of the most powerful magicians in the world, Michel Desjardins and Vlad the Inhaler, were ready to arrest me, try me, and execute me—not necessarily in that order.

I backed up to the steps of Zia’s tomb, but there was no place to go. Red mud stretched in all directions, dotted with wreckage and dead fish. I couldn’t run or hide, which gave me two options: surrender, or fight.

Menshikov’s scarred eyes glittered. “Feel free to resist, Kane. Using deadly force would make my job so much easier.”

“Vladimir, stop,” Desjardins said wearily, leaning on his staff. “Carter, don’t be foolish. Surrender now.”

Three months ago, Desjardins would’ve been thrilled to blast me to bits. Now he looked sad and tired, like my execution was an unpleasant necessity. Zia stood next to him. She glanced warily at Menshikov, as if she could sense something evil about the man.

If I could use that, possibly buy some time…

“What’s your plan, Vlad?” I asked. “You let us get away from St. Petersburg too easily. Almost like you want us to awaken Ra.”

The Russian laughed. “Is that why I followed you halfway across the world to stop you?”

He did his best to look scornful, but a smile tugged at his lips, as if we were sharing a private joke.

“You didn’t come to stop me,” I guessed. “You’re counting on us to find the scrolls for you and put them together. Do you need Ra to wake up in order to free Apophis?”

“Enough, Carter.” Desjardins spoke in a monotone, like a surgery patient counting backward waiting for anesthesia to kick in. I didn’t understand why he seemed so apathetic, but Menshikov looked angry enough for both of them. From the hatred in the Russian’s eyes, I could tell I’d struck a nerve.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I said. “Ma’at and Chaos are connected. To free Apophis, you have to wake Ra, but you want to control the summoning, make sure Ra comes back old and weak.”

Menshikov’s new oaken staff burst into green flames. “Boy, you have no idea what you are saying.”

“Set teased you about a past mistake,” I remembered. “You tried to awaken Ra once before, didn’t you? Using what—only the one scroll you had? Is that how you burned your face?”

“Carter!” Desjardins interrupted. “Vlad Menshikov is a hero of the House of Life. He tried to destroy that scroll to keep anyone else from using it. That’s how he was injured.”

For a moment I was too stunned to speak. “That…can’t be true.”

“You should do your homework, boy.” Menshikov fixed his ruined eyes on me. “The Menshikovs are descended from the priests of Amun-Ra. You’ve heard of that temple?”

I tried to recall the stories my dad had told me. I knew Amun-Ra was another name for Ra, the sun god. And his temple…

“They pretty much controlled Egypt for centuries,” I remembered. “They opposed Akhenaton when he outlawed the old gods, maybe even assassinated him.”