Serapis stared at her, clearly baffled. The red tattoos on his skin dimmed. A few of the symbols turned into question marks and sad faces. Annabeth crept closer … twenty feet from him now.
‘Done for?’ Serapis asked. ‘What on earth are you talking about, girl? I’m about to destroy you.’
‘And if you do,’ Sadie warned, ‘you will activate the death link that sends you to oblivion!’
‘Death link? There is no such thing!’ Serapis lowered his staff. The three animal heads were level with Annabeth’s eyes.
Her heart pounded. Ten feet to go. Then, if she jumped, she might be able to reach the dagger. She’d only have one chance to pull it out.
The heads of the staff didn’t seem to notice her. They snarled and snapped, spitting steam in random directions. Wolf, lion, dog – past, present and future.
To do maximum damage, she knew which head she had to strike.
But why did the future have to be a dog? That black Labrador was the least threatening of the monster heads. With its big gold eyes and floppy ears, it reminded Annabeth of too many friendly pets she’d known.
It’s not a real animal, she told herself. It’s part of a magical staff.
But, as she got within striking distance, her arms grew heavy. She couldn’t look at the dog without feeling guilty.
The future is a good thing, the dog seemed to say. It’s cute and fuzzy!
If Annabeth struck at the Labrador’s head, what if she killed her own future – the plans she had for college, the plans she’d made with Percy … ?
Sadie was still talking. Her tone had taken on a harder edge.
‘My mother, Ruby Kane,’ Sadie told Serapis, ‘she gave her life to seal Apophis in the Duat. Apophis, mind you – who is thousands of years older than you and much more powerful. So if you think I’m going to let a second-rate god take over the world, think again!’
The anger in her voice was no mere bluff, and suddenly Annabeth was glad she’d given Sadie the job of facing down Serapis. The magician was surprisingly terrifying when she wanted to be.
Serapis shifted his weight uneasily. ‘I will destroy you!’
‘Good luck,’ Sadie said. ‘I’ve bound you with Greek and Egyptian spells so powerful they will scatter your atoms to the stars.’
‘You lie!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I feel no spell upon me. Even the one who summoned me had no such magic.’
Annabeth was face to face with the black dog. The dagger was just overhead, but every molecule in her body rebelled at the idea of killing the animal … killing the future.
Meanwhile, Sadie managed a brave laugh. ‘The one who summoned you? You mean that old con artist Setne?’
Annabeth didn’t know the name, but Serapis obviously did. The air around him rippled with heat. The lion snarled. The wolf bared its teeth.
‘Oh, yes,’ Sadie continued. ‘I’m very familiar with Setne. I suppose he didn’t tell you who let him back into the world. He’s only alive because I spared him. You think his magic is powerful? Try me. Do it NOW.’
Annabeth stirred. She realized Sadie was talking to her, not the god. The bluff was getting old. She was out of time.
Serapis sneered. ‘Nice try, magician.’
As he raised his staff to strike, Annabeth jumped. Her hand closed round the hilt of the dagger, and she pulled it free.
‘What?’ Serapis cried.
Annabeth let loose a guttural sob and plunged her dagger into the dog’s neck.
She expected an explosion.
Instead, the dagger was sucked into the dog’s neck like a paper clip into a vacuum cleaner. Annabeth barely had time to let go.
She rolled free as the dog howled, shrinking and shrivelling until it imploded into the monster’s shell. Serapis roared. He shook his sceptre but he couldn’t seem to let go of it.
‘What have you done?’ he cried.
‘Taken your future,’ Annabeth said. ‘Without that, you’re nothing.’
The staff cracked open. It grew so hot that Annabeth felt the hairs on her arms start to burn. She crawled backwards through the sand as the lion and wolf heads were sucked into the shell. The entire staff collapsed into a red fireball in the god’s palm.
Serapis tried to shake it off. It only glowed brighter. His fingers curled inward. His hand was consumed. His entire arm contracted and vaporized as it was drawn into the fiery sphere.
‘I cannot be destroyed!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I am the pinnacle of your worlds combined! Without my guidance, you will never attain the crown! You all shall perish! You shall –’
The fireball flared and sucked the god into its vortex. Then it winked out as if it had never existed.
‘Ugh,’ Sadie said.