Watching him prance around, I wanted to scream and throw things. We’d risked everything to revive the old sun god, hoping we’d get a divine pharaoh who could stand toe-to-toe with Apophis. Instead we got a wrinkly, bald troll in a loincloth.
Give me Ra, Apophis had urged. I know you hate him.
I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn’t quite shake that image of an island in the Sea of Chaos—a personal paradise where the people I loved would be safe. I knew it was a lie. Apophis would never deliver on that promise. But I could understand how Sarah Jacobi and Kwai might be tempted.
Besides, Apophis knew how to strike a nerve. I did resent Ra for being so weak. Horus agreed with me.
We don’t need the old fool. The war god’s voice spoke inside my head. I’m not saying you should give him to Apophis, but he is useless. We should put him aside and take the throne of the gods for ourselves.
He made it sound so tempting—such an obvious solution.
But, no. If Apophis wanted me to give up Ra, then Ra must be valuable in some way. The sun god still had a role to play. I just had to figure out what it was.
“Carter?” Bast frowned. “I know you’re worried about me, but your parents saved me from the abyss for a reason. Your mother foresaw that I would make a difference in the final battle. I will fight Apophis to the death if necessary. He won’t get past me.”
I wavered. Bast had already helped us so much. She had almost been destroyed fighting the crocodile god Sobek. She’d enlisted her friend Bes to help us, and then seen him reduced to an empty shell. She’d helped us restore her old master, Ra, to the world, and now she was stuck babysitting him. I didn’t want to ask her to face Apophis again, but she was right. She knew the enemy better than anyone—except maybe Ra, when he was in his right mind.
“All right,” I said. “But Amos will need more help than you can give, Bast. He’ll need magicians.”
Walt frowned. “Who? After the disaster in Dallas, we don’t have many friends left. We could contact São Paulo and Vancouver—they’re still with us—but they won’t be able to spare many people. They’ll be worried about protecting their own nomes.”
I shook my head. “Amos needs magicians who know the path of the gods. He needs us. All of us.”
Walt digested that silently. “You mean, abandon Brooklyn House.”
Below us, the ankle-biters shrieked with joy as Shelby tried to tag them with her sparking crayons. Khufu sat on the fireplace mantel eating Cheerios, watching ten-year-old Tucker bounce a basketball off the statue of Thoth. Jaz was putting a bandage on Alyssa’s forehead. (Probably she’d been attacked by Sadie’s rogue Thermos, which was still on the loose.) In the middle of all this, Cleo was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in a book.
Brooklyn House was the first real home some of them had ever known. We’d promised to keep them safe and teach them to use their powers. Now I was about to send them unprepared into the most dangerous battle of all time.
“Carter,” Bast said, “they’re not ready.”
“They have to be,” I said. “If the First Nome falls, it’s all over. Apophis will attack us in Egypt, at the source of our power. We have to stand together with the Chief Lector.”
“One last battle.” Walt gazed sadly at the Great Room, maybe wondering whether or not he’d die before that battle happened. “Should we break the news to others?”
“Not yet,” I said. “The rebel magicians’ attack on the First Nome won’t happen until tomorrow. Let the kids have one last day at school. Bast, when they come home this afternoon, I want you to lead them to Egypt. Use Freak, use whatever magic you have to. If all goes well in the Underworld, Sadie and I will join you before the attack.”
“If all goes well,” Bast said dryly. “Yes, that happens a lot.”
She glanced over at the sun god, who was trying to eat the doorknob to Sadie’s room. “What about Ra?” she asked. “If Apophis is going to attack in two days…”
“Ra has to keep making his nightly journey,” I said. “That’s part of Ma’at. We can’t mess with it. But on the morning of the equinox, he’ll need to be in Egypt. He’ll have to face Apophis.”
“Like that?” Bast gestured toward the old god. “In his loincloth?”
“I know,” I admitted. “It sounds crazy. But Apophis still thinks Ra is a threat. Maybe facing Apophis in battle will remind Ra who he is. He might rise to the challenge and become…what he used to be.”
Walt and Bast didn’t answer. I could tell from their expressions that they didn’t buy it. Neither did I. Ra was gumming Sadie’s doorknob with intent to kill, but I didn’t think he’d be much good against the Lord of Chaos.