The Serpent's Shadow (Kane Chronicles #3)

The Serpent's Shadow (Kane Chronicles #3) Page 50

The restaurant choices were pretty overwhelming. Since we couldn’t decide, we got a little of everything: Chinese, Mexican (the Macho Nachos), pizza, and ice cream—the four basic food groups. We grabbed a table overlooking the amusement park at the center of the mall.

A lot of other kids were hanging out in the food court. Many of them stared at us. Well…not at me. They were mostly looking at Zia and no doubt wondering what a girl like her was doing with a guy like me.

She’d healed up nicely since the battle. She wore a simple sleeveless dress of beige linen and black sandals—no makeup, no jewelry except for her gold scarab necklace. She looked way more glamorous and mature than the other girls in the mall.

Her long black hair was tied back in a ponytail, except for a little strand that curled behind her right ear. She’d always had luminous amber eyes and warm coffee-and-milk skin, but since hosting Ra, she seemed to glow even more. I could feel her warmth from across the table.

She smiled at me over her bowl of chow mein. “So, this is what typical American teenagers do?”

“Well…sort of,” I said. “Though I don’t think either of us will ever pass for typical.”

“I hope not.”

I had trouble thinking straight when I looked at her. If she’d asked me to jump over the railing, I probably would’ve done it.

Zia twirled her fork through her noodles. “Carter, we haven’t talked much about…you know, my being the Eye of Ra. I can guess how strange that was for you.”

See? Just your typical teenage conversation in the mall.

“Hey, I understand,” I said. “It wasn’t strange.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, it was strange,” I admitted. “But Ra needed your help. You were amazing. Have you, uh, talked to him since…?”

She shook her head. “He’s retreated from the world, just like he said. I doubt I’ll be the Eye of Ra again—unless we face another Doomsday.”

“So, with our luck, not for a few more weeks, you mean.”

Zia laughed. I loved her laugh. I loved that little curl of hair behind her ear.

(Sadie says I’m being ridiculous. Like she’s one to talk.)

“I had a meeting with your Uncle Amos,” Zia said. “He has lots of help at the First Nome now. He thought it would be good for me to spend some time away, try to live a more…typical life.”

My heart tripped and stumbled straight into my ribs. “You mean, like, leave Egypt?”

Zia nodded. “Your sister suggested I stay at Brooklyn House, attend American school. She says…how did she put it? Americans are an odd bunch, but they grow on you.”

Zia scooted around the table and took my hand. I sensed about twenty jealous guys glaring at me from the other tables of the food court.

“Would you mind if I stayed in Brooklyn House? I could help teach the initiates. But if that would make you uncomfortable—”

“No!” I said much too loudly. “I mean, no, I don’t mind. Yes, I’d like that. A lot. Quite a bit. Totally fine.”

Zia smiled. The temperature in the food court seemed to go up another ten degrees. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes. I mean, unless it would make you uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want to make things awkward or—”

“Carter?” she said gently. “Shut up.”

She leaned over and kissed me.

I did as she commanded, no magic necessary. I shut up.

21. The Gods Are Sorted; My Feelings Are Not

AH, MY THREE FAVORITE WORDS: Carter, shut up.

Zia really has come a long way since we first met. I think there’s hope for her, even if she does fancy my brother.

At any rate, Carter has wisely left the last bit of the story for me to tell.

After the battle with Apophis, I felt horrible on many levels. Physically, I was knackered. Magically, I’d used up every last bit of energy. I was afraid I might have permanently damaged myself, as I had a smoldering feeling behind my sternum that was either my exhausted magic reservoir or very bad heartburn.

Emotionally, I wasn’t much better. I had watched Carter embrace Zia when she emerged from the steaming goo of the serpent, which was all very well, but it only reminded me of my own turmoil.

Where was Walt? (I’d decided to call him that, or I would drive myself crazy figuring out his identity.) He had been standing nearby just after the battle. Now he was gone.

Had he left with the other gods? I was already worried about Bes and Bast. It wasn’t like them to disappear without saying good-bye. And I wasn’t keen on what Ra had said about the gods leaving the earth for a while.

You cannot push me away without pushing away the gods, Apophis had warned.

The bloody serpent might have mentioned that before we execrated him. I had just made my peace with the whole Walt/Anubis idea—or mostly, at any rate—and now Walt had vanished. If he’d been declared off-limits again, I was going to crawl into a sarcophagus and never come out.

While Carter was with Zia in the infirmary, I wandered the corridors of the First Nome, but found no sign of Walt. I tried to contact him with the shen amulet. No answer. I even tried to contact Isis for advice, but the goddess had gone silent. I didn’t like that.

So, yes, I was quite distracted in the Hall of Ages during Carter’s little acceptance speech: I’d like to thank all the little people for making me pharaoh, et cetera, et cetera.

I was glad to visit the Underworld and be reunited with my mum and dad. At least they weren’t off-limits. But I was quite disappointed not to find Walt there. Even if he wasn’t allowed in the mortal world, shouldn’t he be in the Hall of Judgment, taking over the duties of Anubis?

That’s when my mother pulled me aside. (Not literally, of course. Being a ghost, she couldn’t pull me anywhere.) We stood to the left of the dais where the dead musicians played lively music. JD Grissom and his wife, Anne, smiled at me. They seemed happy, and I was glad for that, but I still had trouble seeing them without feeling guilty.

My mum tugged at her necklace—a ghostly replica of my own tyet amulet. “Sadie…we’ve never gotten to talk much, you and I.”

Bit of an understatement, since she died when I was six. I understood what she meant, though. Even after our reunion last spring, she and I had never really chatted. Visiting her in the Duat was rather hard, and ghosts don’t have e-mail or Skype or mobile phones. Even if they had had a proper Internet connection, “friending” my dead mother on Facebook would have felt rather odd.

I didn’t say any of that. I just nodded.

“You’ve grown strong, Sadie,” Mum said. “You’ve had to be brave for so long, it must be hard for you to let your defenses down. You’re afraid to lose any more people you care about.”

I felt lightheaded, as if I were turning into a ghost, too. Had I become see-through, like my mother? I wanted to argue and protest and joke. I didn’t want to hear my mother’s commentary, especially when it was so accurate.

At the same time, I was so mixed up inside about Walt, so worried about what had happened to him, I wanted to break down and cry on my mother’s shoulder. I wanted her to hug me and tell me it was all right. Unfortunately, one can’t cry on the shoulder of a ghost.

“I know,” Mum said sadly, as if reading my thoughts. “I wasn’t there for you when you were small. And your father…well, he had to leave you with Gran and Gramps. They tried to provide you with a normal life, but you’re so much more than normal, aren’t you? And now here you are, a young woman.…” She sighed. “I’ve missed so much of your life, I don’t know if you’ll want my advice now. But for what it’s worth: trust your feelings. I can’t promise that you’ll never get hurt again, but I can promise you the risk is worth it.”

I studied her face, unchanged since the day she had died: her wispy blond hair, her blue eyes, the rather mischievous curve of her eyebrows. Many times, I’d been told that I looked like her. Now I could see it clearly. As I’d got older, it was quite striking how much our faces looked alike. Put some purple highlights in her hair, and Mum would’ve made an excellent Sadie stunt double.

“You’re talking about Walt,” I said at last. “This is a heart-to-heart chat about boys?”

Mum winced. “Yes, well…I’m afraid I’m rubbish at this. But I had to try. When I was a girl, Gran wasn’t much of a resource for me. I never felt I could talk to her.”

“I should think not.” I tried to imagine talking about guys with my grandmother while Gramps yelled at the telly and called for more tea and burnt biscuits.

“I think,” I ventured, “that mothers normally warn against following one’s heart, getting involved with the wrong sort of boy, getting a bad reputation. That sort of thing.”

“Ah.” Mum nodded contritely. “Well, you see, I can’t do that. I suppose I’m not worried about you doing the wrong thing, Sadie. I am worried that you might be afraid to trust someone—even the right someone. It’s your heart, of course. Not mine. But I’d say Walt is more nervous than you are. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“Hard on him?” I almost laughed. “I don’t even know where he is! And he’s hosting a god who—who—”

“Whom you also like,” Mum supplied. “And that’s confusing, yes. But they are really one person, now. Anubis has so much in common with Walt. Neither has ever had a real life to look forward to. Now, together, they do.”

“You mean…” The horrible burning sensation behind my sternum began to ease, ever so slightly. “You mean I will see him again? He’s not exiled, or whatever nonsense the gods are going on about?”

“You will see him,” my mother affirmed. “Because they are one, inhabiting a single mortal body, they may walk the earth, as the Ancient Egyptian god-kings did. Walt and Anubis are both good young men. They are both nervous, and quite awkward in the mortal world, and scared about how people will treat them. And they both feel the same way about you.”

I was probably blushing terribly. Carter stared at me from the top of the dais, no doubt wondering what was wrong. I didn’t trust myself to meet his eyes. He was a bit too good at reading my expression.

“It’s so bloody hard,” I complained.

Mother laughed softly. “Yes, it is. But if it’s any consolation…dealing with any man means dealing with multiple personalities.”

I glanced up at my father, who was flickering back and forth between Dr. Julius Kane and Osiris, the Smurf-blue god of the Underworld.

“I take your point,” I said. “But where is Anubis? I mean Walt. Ugh! There I go again.”

“You will see him soon,” Mum promised. “I wanted you to be prepared.”

My mind said: This is too confusing, too unfair. I can’t handle a relationship like this.

But my heart said: Shut up! Yes, I can!

“Thanks, Mum,” I said, no doubt failing miserably to look calm and collected. “This business with the gods pulling away. Does that mean we won’t see you and Dad as much?”