The Complete Kane Chronicles (27 page)

C A R T E R

AS FAR AS RIDES TO THE
Land of Death go, the boat was pretty cool. It had multiple decks with ornate railings painted black and green. The side paddlewheels churned the river into froth, and along the paddlewheel housings the name of the boat glittered in gold letters:
EGYPTIAN QUEEN.

At first glance, you’d think the boat was just a tourist attraction: one of those floating casinos or cruise boats for old people. But if you looked closer you started noticing strange little details. The boat’s name was written in Demotic and in hieroglyphics underneath the English. Sparkly smoke billowed from the stacks as if the engines were burning gold. Orbs of multicolored fire flitted around the decks. And on the prow of the ship, two painted eyes moved and blinked, scanning the river for trouble.

“That’s odd,” Sadie remarked.

I nodded. “I’ve seen eyes painted on boats before. They still do that all over the Mediterranean. But usually they don’t move.”

“What? No, not the stupid eyes. That lady on the highest deck. Isn’t that…” Sadie broke into a grin. “Bast!”

Sure enough, our favorite feline was leaning out the window of the pilot’s house. I was about to wave to her, when I noticed the creature standing next to Bast, gripping the wheel. He had a human body and was dressed in the white uniform of a boat captain. But instead of a head, a double-bladed axe sprouted from his collar. And I’m not talking about a
small
axe for chopping wood. I’m talking
battle
-axe: twin crescent-shaped iron blades, one in front where his face should be, one in the back, the edges splattered with suspicious-looking dried red splotches.

The ship pulled up to the dock. Balls of fire began zipping around—lowering the gangplank, tying off ropes, and basically doing crew-type stuff. How they did it without hands, and without setting everything on fire, I don’t know, but it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d seen that week.

Bast climbed down from the wheelhouse. She hugged us as we came aboard—even Khufu, who tried to return the favor by grooming her for lice.

“I’m glad you survived!” Bast told us. “What happened?”

We gave her the basics and her hair poofed out again. “Elvis?
Gah!
Thoth is getting cruel in his old age. Well, I can’t say I’m glad to be on this boat again. I
hate
the water, but I suppose—”

“You’ve been on this boat before?” I asked.

Bast’s smile wavered. “A million questions as usual, but let’s eat first. The captain is waiting.”

I wasn’t anxious to meet a giant axe, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about another one of Bast’s grilled-cheese-and-Friskies dinners, but we followed her inside the boat.

The dining parlor was lavishly decorated in Egyptian style. Colorful murals depicting the gods covered the walls. Gilded columns supported the ceiling. A long dining table was laden with every kind of food you could want—sandwiches, pizzas, hamburgers, Mexican food, you name it. It
way
made up for missing Thoth’s barbecue. On a side table stood an ice chest, a line of golden goblets, and a soda dispenser with about twenty different choices. The mahogany chairs were carved to look like baboons, which reminded me a little too much of Graceland’s Jungle Room, but Khufu thought they were okay. He barked at his chair just to show it who was top monkey, then sat on its lap. He picked an avocado from a basket of fruit and started peeling it.

Across the room, a door opened, and the axe dude came in. He had to duck to avoid cleaving the doorframe.

“Lord and Lady Kane,” the captain said, bowing. His voice was a quivery hum that resonated along his front blade. I saw a video one time of a guy playing music by hitting a saw with a hammer, and that’s sort of the way the captain sounded. “It is an honor to have you aboard.”

“‘Lady Kane,’” Sadie mused. “I like that.”

“I am Bloodstained Blade,” the captain said. “What are your orders?”

Sadie raised an eyebrow at Bast. “He takes orders from us?”

“Within reason,” Bast said. “He is bound to your family. Your father…” She cleared her throat. “Well, he and your mother summoned this boat.”

The axe demon made a disapproving hum. “You haven’t told them, goddess?”

“I’m getting to it,” Bast grumbled.

“Told us what?” I asked.

“Just details.” She rushed on. “The boat can be summoned once a year, and only in times of great need. You’ll need to give the captain your orders now. He must have clear directions if we’re to proceed, ah,
safely.
”

I wondered what was bothering Bast, but the axe dude was waiting for orders, and the flecks of dried blood on his blades told me I’d better not keep him in suspense.

“We need to visit the Hall of Judgment,” I told him. “Take us to the Land of the Dead.”

Bloodstained Blade hummed thoughtfully. “I will make the arrangements, Lord Kane, but it will take time.”

“We don’t have a lot of that.” I turned to Sadie. “It’s…what, the evening of the twenty-seventh?”

She nodded in agreement. “Day after tomorrow, at sunrise, Set completes his pyramid and destroys the world unless we stop him. So, yes, Captain Very Large Blade, or whatever it is, I’d say we’re in a bit of a rush.”

“We will, of course, do our best,” said Bloodstained Blade, though his voice sounded a little, well, sharp. “The crew will prepare your staterooms. Will you dine while you wait?”

I looked at the table laden with food and realized how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten since we were in the Washington Monument. “Yeah.
Um,
thanks, BSB.”

The captain bowed again, which made him look a little too much like a guillotine. Then he left us to our dinner.

At first, I was too busy eating to talk. I inhaled a roast beef sandwich, a couple of pieces of cherry pie with ice cream, and three glasses of ginger ale before I finally came up for air.

Sadie didn’t eat as much. Then again she’d had lunch on the plane. She settled for a cheese-and-cucumber sandwich and one of those weird British drinks she likes—a Ribena. Khufu carefully picked out everything that ended with
-o
—Doritos, Oreos, and some chunks of meat. Buffalo? Armadillo? I was scared to even guess.

The balls of fire floated attentively around the room, refilling our goblets and clearing away our plates as we finished.

After so many days spent running for our lives, it felt good to just sit at a dinner table and relax. The captain’s informing us that he couldn’t transport us instantly to the Land of the Dead was the best news I’d had in a long time.

“Agh!”
Khufu wiped his mouth and grabbed one of the balls of fire. He fashioned it into a glowing basketball and snorted at me.

For once I was pretty sure what he’d said in Baboon. It wasn’t an invitation. It meant something like: “I’m going to play basketball by myself now. I will not invite you because your lack of skill would make me throw up.”

“No problem, man,” I said, though my face felt hot with embarrassment. “Have fun.”

Khufu snorted again, then loped off with the ball under his arm. I wondered if he’d find a court somewhere on board.

At the far end of the table, Bast pushed her plate away. She’d hardly touched her tuna Friskies.

“Not hungry?” I asked.

“
Hmm?
Oh…I suppose not.” She turned her goblet listlessly. She was wearing an expression I didn’t associate with cats: guilt.

Sadie and I locked eyes. We had a brief, silent exchange, something like:

You ask her.

No, you.

Of course Sadie’s better at giving dirty looks, so I lost the contest.

“Bast?” I said. “What did the captain want you to tell us?”

She hesitated. “Oh, that? You shouldn’t listen to demons. Bloodstained Blade is bound by magic to serve, but if he ever got loose, he’d use that axe on all of us, believe me.”

“You’re changing the subject,” I said.

Bast traced her finger across the table, drawing hieroglyphs in the condensation ring from her goblet. “The truth? I haven’t been on board since the night your mother died. Your parents had docked this boat on the Thames. After the…accident, your father brought me here. This is where we made our deal.”

I realized she meant
right
here, at this table. My father had sat here in despair after Mom’s death—with no one to console him except the cat goddess, an axe demon, and a bunch of floating lights.

I studied Bast’s face in the dim light. I thought about the painting we’d found at Graceland. Even in human form, Bast looked so much like that cat—a cat drawn by some artist thousands of years ago.

“It wasn’t just a chaos monster, was it?” I asked.

Bast eyed me. “What do you mean?”

“The thing you were fighting when our parents released you from the obelisk. It wasn’t just a chaos monster. You were fighting Apophis.”

All around the parlor, the servant fires dimmed. One dropped a plate and fluttered nervously.

“Don’t say the Serpent’s name,” Bast warned. “Especially as we head into the night. Night is his realm.”

“It’s true, then.” Sadie shook her head in dismay. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you lie to us?”

Bast dropped her gaze. Sitting in the shadows, she looked weary and frail. Her face was etched with the traces of old battle scars.

“I was the Eye of Ra.” She spoke quietly. “The sun god’s champion, the instrument of his will. Do you have any idea what an honor it was?”

She extended her claws and studied them. “When people see pictures of Ra’s warrior cat, they assume it’s Sekhmet, the lioness. And she
was
his first champion, it’s true. But she was too violent, too out of control. Eventually Sekhmet was forced to step down, and Ra chose
me
as his fighter: little Bast.”

“Why do you sound ashamed?” Sadie asked. “You said it’s an honor.”

“At first I was proud, Sadie. I fought the Serpent for ages. Cats and snakes are mortal enemies. I did my job well. But then Ra withdrew to the heavens. He bound me to the Serpent with his last spell. He cast us both into that abyss, where I was charged to fight the Serpent and keep it down forever.”

A realization crept over me. “So you
weren’t
a minor prisoner. You were imprisoned longer than any of the other gods.”

She closed her eyes. “I still remember Ra’s words: ‘My loyal cat. This is your greatest duty.’ And I was proud to do it…for centuries. Then millennia. Can you imagine what it was like? Knives against fangs, slashing and thrashing, a never-ending war in the darkness. Our life forces grew weaker, my enemy’s and mine, and I began to realize that was Ra’s plan. The Serpent and I would rip each other to nothingness, and the world would be safe. Only in this way could Ra withdraw in peace of mind, knowing chaos would not overcome Ma’at. I would have done my duty, too. I had no choice. Until your parents—”

“Gave you an escape route,” I said. “And you took it.”

Bast looked up miserably. “I am the queen of cats. I have many strengths. But to be honest, Carter…cats are not very brave.”

“And Ap—your enemy?”

“He stayed trapped in the abyss. Your father and I were sure of it. The Serpent was already greatly weakened from eons of fighting with me, and when your mother used her own life force to close the abyss, well…she worked a powerful feat of magic. There should’ve been no way for the Serpent to break through that kind of seal. But as the years have gone by…we became less and less sure the prison would hold him. If somehow he managed to escape and regain his strength, I cannot imagine what would happen. And it would be my fault.”

I tried to imagine the serpent, Apophis—a creature of chaos even worse than Set. I pictured Bast with her knives, locked in combat with that monster for eons. Maybe I should’ve been angry at Bast for not telling us the truth earlier. Instead, I felt sorry for her. She’d been put in the same position we were now in—forced to do a job that was way too big for her.

“So why did my parents release you?” I asked. “Did they say?”

She nodded slowly. “I was losing my fight. Your father told me that your mother had foreseen…horrible things if the Serpent overcame me. They had to free me, give me time to heal. They said it was the first step in restoring the gods. I don’t pretend to understand their whole plan. I was relieved to take your father’s offer. I convinced myself I was doing the right thing for the gods. But it does not change the fact that I was a coward. I failed in my duty.”

“It isn’t your fault,” I told her. “It wasn’t fair of Ra to ask of you.”

“Carter’s right,” Sadie said. “That’s too much sacrifice for one person—one cat goddess, whatever.”

“It was my king’s will,” Bast said. “The pharaoh can command his subjects for the good of the kingdom—even to lay down their lives—and they must obey. Horus knows this. He was the pharaoh many times.”

She speaks truly,
Horus said.

“Then you had a stupid king,” I said.

The boat shuddered as if we’d ground the keel over a sandbar.

“Be careful, Carter,” Bast warned. “Ma’at, the order of creation, hinges on loyalty to the rightful king. If you question it, you’ll fall under the influence of chaos.”