“The yoke,” Anubis said grimly. “The yoke has been severed.”
“How…how is that possible?” I asked.
“It is Asten,” Amon said, a bleak, hopeless expression transforming his face. “Can you not feel it, Lily?”
“Asten?” I stood there, mouth parted in shock, as I tried to understand what he meant.
Anubis took hold of my shoulders and turned me toward him. “Lily, you must know that this is not irreversible. Asten can still be saved. You mustn’t give up on him.”
I raised my eyebrows. Give up on him? Of course I wouldn’t give up on him. “So he’s not dead, then? Are you certain?”
“He is still living,” Horus said as he ran a finger along a blade. “For the moment.”
A dozen scenarios ran through my mind at his words, and I wanted to grab Horus up by the collar and make him spill everything he knew.
Horus continued. “Asten is just no longer…” He waved a hand in the air with a flourish, as if seeking the right word. “He’s no longer protected by your bond. Your collective power is now cut off from his.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” I accused, hands on my hips as I cornered Horus, giving him my best don’t-mess-with-me look.
The god actually took a step back.
“Lily,” Anubis said. “We don’t have time for this. Fortunately, you recovered after being severed from him. There was a chance you wouldn’t, that breaking the yoke would destroy you all. The fact that you regained your strength so swiftly bodes well. It means there is still hope. Hope for Asten and hope for us. But regardless, we must find him. Quickly.”
“You mean he’s here?” I asked as I flew up to Zahra’s back and settled astride her once more. Ahmose was bent over her leg, healing the bite from the Biloko demon.
“I fear the severing of the yoke means Asten is very close. Come,” he said. “We must make haste.”
Tia mourned anew, and it was all Ashleigh and I could do to comfort her as we continued on. Now that we understood what had happened, I recognized the vision for what it was. The scene we’d witnessed had been a small glimpse into the mind of Asten. Tia confirmed that the particular dream we’d seen had never occurred in real life or in one of his dreamscapes. She hoped it was a sign that he was near. That he wanted us to find him. I dreaded the notion that she was right. I’d much prefer that he was back in Heliopolis, safe. That somehow he’d escaped the sky-demons and was even now pacing atop the mountain, wondering where we’d all gone.
Finally, we saw the black box coming into view. Approaching closer, we saw it was as large as football field and appeared to be torn open; sections of it had been completely dissolved, but it was so dark inside and still so far away, we couldn’t make out anything from where we were.
The box, or obelisk, as Horus referred to it, was tethered to the edge of the glimmering ring where we stood. When we reached the border where the crackling and popping link had been affixed, I gazed up at the box, which shifted slightly back and forth hundreds of meters above us. It looked as if it were a giant square balloon or a kite, and the tether was a lightning bridge stretching into the dark heavens above.
I gulped, looking across the great chasm of space between us and the object we sought. Lucky for us, we had unicorns. The idea of climbing the spitting, snapping chain hand over hand was terrible and nightmarish.
“Are you sure Seth is still up there?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I scanned the dark object in space.
“If he weren’t, the chain would have broken and dissolved back into pure energy,” Anubis answered.
“Okay, so what’s the game plan?” I asked.
“We were supposed to meet Amun-Ra and Nephthys here. They should have arrived before us, since we went around the long way. The fact that they are not here makes me nervous.”
“Do you think the sky-demons or the Biloko got them first?”
Anubis scanned the sky around us. “I do not believe so. Amun-Ra is powerful enough that any demon who dared bite him would immediately perish. As far as Nephthys is concerned, she is something of a prophetess. She sees enough into the future to know when and how to alter her course. There is no reason they should not have reached us by now.” Anubis rubbed his jaw as he turned, considering the heavens above us.
A burst of sparks erupted from atop the obelisk. The entire structure shifted, and the long chain swayed back and forth wildly across the expanse. We heard the unmistakable sound of a woman screaming.
“Mother!” Horus leapt onto his unicorn’s back and galloped right off the edge. He plummeted below the falling waters, and then he burst back into view as he soared upward, heading for the obelisk.
Anubis threw his hands up in disgust as he glared at the god. “Reckless youth,” he quietly hissed. “There he goes, running off all cocked and loaded, forgetting the whole point of his mother’s sacrifice.” He furrowed his eyebrows at us. “You lot better not be getting any ideas to follow in Horus’s footsteps. Think before you act. Do you understand? Seth already knows we’re here. Let’s not give him more of an advantage than he already has.”
“We understand, Anubis,” Amon said.
“Good. You’ve never met Seth. Not in person. But I’ll warn you, he’s like a far-off storm. You think you have time to prepare for his onslaught, but—boom—he’s upon you before you can take shelter. He circles beneath you, waits you out like the most patient of hunters. He studies you and finds your weak spots. And then snap.” He clapped his hands together. “You’re caught in the teeth of the crocodile.”
I shivered.
“And keep in mind,” Anubis continued. “He’s much more dangerous than he looks. To see him as a scrawny powerless boy, unworthy of notice, was a mistake. He took advantage of our blindness.” Anubis stared overhead and added softly, his jaw tight, “Seth’s become a cruel man, prone to torture. Destruction is his ultimate goal. He’s devious and smart. Give him an inch of sympathy and he’ll fill you with his poison. Don’t believe what you see either. Seth can change his shape into creatures you’ve never seen before. He harnesses their abilities, too. Bottom line—don’t underestimate him. It will be your undoing.”
“Then how do we stop one such as him?” Ahmose asked.
“You can stop him because he underestimates you, too. Or, perhaps more accurately, he overestimates himself. His goal will be to try to break you. Because he created the Sons of Egypt, he will attempt to use you, to harness your power. But you can resist him. We’ve given you that ability. Still, your own determination and courage is the only thing standing between him and his ultimate goals. Seth won’t try to kill one of Egypt’s Sons—at least I can’t imagine he would attempt such a thing. If he did, the outcome would be…well, let’s just say it would be very unpleasant for him. It would mean his downfall.
“Lily is the weapon he won’t see coming. Between all of you and us, I think we can win. We have to. Any other outcome is unthinkable. Good luck, my sons,” Anubis said, taking hold of both Ahmose’s and Amon’s shoulders.” He stroked a finger down my cheek and sniffled, giving me a weak smile. “Good luck to us all,” he finished, muttering his words into the empty sky. “May the stars bless our efforts this night.”
We’d just climbed on the backs of our unicorns when we heard a terrible screech above. An object hurtled toward us at breakneck speed. It rotated in the air, and our unicorns danced nervously as they recognized what it was.
It is Horus and his unicorn! Zahra cried. The spinning ball of legs and wings came closer and then hit the Waters of Chaos with a resounding crash. Waves of color splashed high in the air as our fallen comrades created a wide furrow of matter. They slid across the slick surface quite a distance before stopping. Waves lapped wildly, splashing against the breastbones of our unicorns, spilling over my legs. Finally, they came to a broken-limbed stop, and matter quickly rushed in to fill the space they’d carved out.
We raced, hooves pounding and slapping the water, until we reached the s
ide of the fallen god and his mount. The unicorn kicked weakly. A leg was broken, and an object pierced his side. When I pulled it out, I saw it was Horus’s own sword. Horus was pinned beneath the male unicorn and appeared to be unconscious. Foam dripped from the mouth of the heaving beast. As it dug its hooves into the misty waters, struggling to find purchase despite his broken leg, I could see the unicorn was terrified. Its ears were laid back as it whinnied in alarm, not for himself but for us.
My blood went cold. Quickly scanning the heavens and seeing nothing, I dismounted and knelt by the unicorn, running my hand down the bridge of its long nose and stopping at its flaring nostrils. Quick, hot breaths puffed out over my palm. Zahra touched her nose to his, and I could feel her mourning as she took in the injuries of the animal. He was dying.
I was about to ask Ahmose to help, but he was kneeling by Horus using his power to save the god’s life. Instead, I turned to Anubis. “Can you do anything?” I asked.
He shook his head. “The curse that has fallen upon the unicorns prevents me from preparing his soul for the afterlife.” Zahra stomped a foot and gave a mournful cry as the struggling unicorn laid down its head. After a moment the body of the great animal shimmered and became insubstantial. It melted away from Horus and was carried by the Waters of Chaos to the rim, where it slipped over the edge and disappeared from view.
I held on to Zahra, stroking her soft neck as she grieved and watched Ahmose work. When Horus finally took a breath and his eyes fluttered open, I let out the one I’d been holding. But the feeling of relief I had at seeing Horus rise slowly to his feet was soon snuffed out when I heard a roar come from above.
A long, sinuous shape—no, two long sinuous shapes erupted from the obelisk and headed toward us. When they came closer, they circled above us lazily. One, a dragon, had a golden chain of lightning attached to its leg. It landed on the surface of the Waters of Chaos and crouched down, eyes taking us in as if assessing which one of us would make the tastiest appetizer. Its tail thrashed back and forth, causing the surface beneath our feet to quake.
The other shape hovered in the dark. When the dragon lifted its head and bellowed, it came closer and landed nearby. Its shifting coils were all too familiar.
Hello again, goddess, Apep said with a slap of his tail. Fancy meeting you here.
“Apep?” I cried, deliberately turning my head to as to avoid his hypnotic stare. “I thought you didn’t care about the gods or their little war!”
I didn’t, the giant snake responded as he twisted around us, effectively trapping us in the circle of his coils. But this one, he said, turning to eye the dragon, promised to fill my belly with as many souls as I could eat. And as you know, he added, lowering his head to peer directly at me, I’m always so hungry.
He jerked suddenly, opening his mouth to show us his glistening fangs. Foamy waters lapped his scales, and like before, I thought them beautiful. In fact, they seemed to reflect the very waters at our feet. So pretty. I took a few steps closer to the snake, mesmerized by his exquisiteness.
Amon yanked me back, and I shook my head. I pulled out my blades and lengthened them into spears, but before I could call out a battle cry, the dragon addressed us directly.
“Not just yet,” the dragon said, his tongue forming around the words as if they were foreign to him in that form. “We are still missing a few players, I think.”
A number of dark, shrouded objects drifted down from the obelisk. They landed softly on the colored surface of the Waters of Chaos near the mouth of the snake and immediately they collapsed. The dark hood of one was swept back, and I gasped. “Nephthys?” I cried.
Darting around the snake, I rushed to the fallen form and gently pulled back the hood. The dragon looked on and laughed as golden hair tumbled over my hands. Two puncture wounds oozed black venom. Apep. I wasn’t sure if the snake’s venom would affect them as badly as it had me, but we’d need to help her, and soon.
Anubis and Ahmose kept their weapons trained on the snake as Horus limped as quickly as he could to the next victim and stumbled, going down right next to the body. He pulled off the hood. It was Amun-Ra. Snarling, he looked up and screamed, “What have you done with my mother, you vile beast?” Even across the distance, Horus’s eyes were dangerous switchblades, open and ready to cut.
The dragon simpered, “Oh, Isis is here, I assure you, whelp.”
I moved to the next person, and the next, hoping to find Asten but instead I found a few of Amun-Ra’s fallen warriors. When I’d checked them all, I stood and brandished my blades, rejoining my fellows. “You take the snake,” Amon murmured. “I’ll take the dragon.”
“I heard that, little princeling,” the dragon sneered. “How fun it will be for you to playact the part of the armored knight slaying the dragon. All to impress your princess, isn’t it? How romantic,” the dragon spat. “Well, I assure you, I will not be easily bested, and I have absolutely no fear of you or any other knight in shining armor.”
The dragon snorted, and puffs of smoke blew out its nostrils. Then it sneezed, a very undragonly thing to do. I grinned, seeing the small little man behind the great beast. My confidence rose, but then I considered the warning from Anubis and tightened my resolve. Seth was indeed tricky, and I had a feeling he was going to fight dirty.
“I think your ego is telling you you’re a fifty-foot billboard with your name in lights,” I called out across the expanse. “Unfortunately, you aren’t even important enough for a byline. You’re overrated and underbaked. Why don’t you pull up a chair and learn from your elders, you spoiled little half god?”
Perhaps I’d gone too far in provoking him, but I wanted to test him for weaknesses in the same way Anubis said he’d be testing us. The dragon gave me a slick smile and narrowed his eyes. “I have to admit. I look forward to swallowing you down whole. How refreshing you will be after I consume your too-handsome-for-his-own-good champion.”
That was it. The chink in his character. Jealousy raged in him like a beast. All I’d have to do was wave a red flag before his eyes, and he’d charge right onto my sword. I’d have to be careful with him, but I thought defeating him was doable.
“But before I do that,” the dragon said, “I’d like to tell you the tale of the dragon and the self-righteous St. George. Have you heard it?” Seth asked almost politely. “No?” He didn’t wait for our answer. “Then let me give you the true version. Once upon a time, a city of spoiled mortals asked a dragon for aid. ‘We’re dying of plague,’ they said. ‘Please help us!’ The dragon knew that plagues were nature’s way of creating balance. The citizens were packed together like rats. They were filthy and vile. The land would be better off if they were cleansed from its surface. But the dragon, too kind for his own good, agreed to help and asked only a boon in return. A small token of gratitude.
“He wanted the king’s lovely daughter to be his companion. To keep him company and offer him the kindness he deserved. But the king’s daughter thought the dragon too ugly to love. His horns were too sharp, his breath was too hot, and his clumsy claws would tear her pretty dresses.
“So instead, the king held a lottery, and a girl was sacrificed once a year and given over to the dragon’s keeping. Inevitably, the girl angered the dragon by attempting to escape. Sometimes, he grew tired of her sobs and woe-is-me attitude as she mourned, begging him to return her to her family. Either way, he lashed out, destroying the girl in the process. Soon the city ran out of young women, and the unfortunate king at last sent his daughter.
“The dragon was thrilled, but the king secretly sent a knight along with her—one especially trained to hunt dragons. Seeing the handsome knight coming to her rescue, the princess immediately fell for his simpering beauty and would no more consider the sincere offer of the dragon. Forced to fight, the dragon battled the knight and would have beaten him if not for the scream of the girl. She distracted the dragon, and the knight killed him.
“Now, before you get any ideas, this little play figh
t we’re about to engage in is going to have an entirely different outcome.”
“Oh?” I called out. “And why do you believe that?”
“Because this time I’m not fighting alone. Underlings, I’d like all of you to meet my son.” The dragon twisted his neck, peering at something behind him. “Son?” he continued. “Why don’t you come on over here and make yourself known to our enemies?”
A shrouded figure stepped from the shadows cast by the dragon. The man lifted his hands and touched the rim of his hood, and as he did so, my heart beat so wildly, I thought it would explode out of my chest.
I hadn’t intended to show any weakness to my enemy, but a name escaped my lips as he drew back his hood. It echoed softly into space, a whisper barely recognized; it came back to my ears as if it had been whispered by the mouth of an angel.
Asten.
Tia rose up inside me. “He is not your son, Unmaker!” she spat.
“Oh, I assure you, he is. Aren’t you, Asten?”
Asten lowered his gaze. “Seth speaks the truth,” he said. “Without the barrier of the obelisk, I have finally seen Seth’s dreams and those of my true mortal mother.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, turning to Anubis. “I thought Asten was a full mortal, in which case Ahmose and Amon would be more Seth’s sons than Asten. Seth facilitated the pregnancies of their mothers.”
Anubis wore a pained expression. His eyes combed over Asten.
“How is this possible?” Amon asked Anubis with a hiss, while keeping his eyes trained on Apep.
“It’s possible,” Anubis answered loudly, his voice carrying across the expanse, “because the bricklayer father identified by a so-called uncle was not Asten’s true father. Seth kept a mortal concubine, Asten’s real mother, one that he abused even while she carried his child.”
“So then his father and sisters? The mother who died?” I asked.