Things never turn out as well as they ought to.
Oh. Right. For those of you poor souls who haven't met me yet, introductions are in order. Sadie Kane here; thirteen and a half year old girl, magician, and occasional goddess. As of today, I've saved the world three times (with a little help, I suppose). You're very welcome. All acquainted, yes? Good. Let's go.
I know we said we wouldn't record any more messages. Actually, I believe I said that a few weeks ago, but I don't see why this is any less important than the end of the world. That comes along every few months, and it hasn't been all too serious yet.
(If Carter were here I'm sure he'd say that it was serious, lots of people died, blah blah. He's taking this whole responsibility thing far too seriously if I do say so myself. It's sent him a bit mental. Luckily, I've locked myself in my room for the time being, so hah! No interruptions from Sir Pharaoh.)
Where was I? A few weeks after our latest end of the world, I came down to breakfast after everyone else. Carter tells me I'm setting a bad example and such rubbish for sleeping in, but who wants to get up at the crack of dawn? They call being late fashionable for a reason.
Anyway, by the time I got to the breakfast table, everyone but Walt had left already. He sat at one end, absently tracing lines on the table with his fingertip. They might have been hieroglyphics. Couldn't tell. Didn't care.
"Morning," I said, flashing him my trademark smile of goddess-like splendor.
He didn't even look up, mumbling, "Morning."
I frowned. "You all right?"
Walt shrugged.
Even for a dead bloke, this was inexpressive. I eyed the empty table in front of him. "Did you eat breakfast?"
"Uh…"
"No, then," I said. "Walt, gods – immortal. Hosts – not so much. You still have to eat. Fancy anything?"
"Eggs," he muttered.
I stopped halfway to the buffet table. "I thought you hated eggs."
He finally looked up at me, eyes quite panicked. Carter says that the Sadie Inquisition can be a bit unnerving, but I was just asking the poor boy what he wanted to eat. It wasn't difficult.
"Pancakes," he decided, and I went to fetch them. It wasn't too surprising that he'd gotten a bit muddled. Ever since he'd started hosting Anubis, Walt had been scatterbrained. He'd be forgetting his own head next.
(Cleo told me that magicians have actually done this. Nasty business all around. Don't try it at home.)
I couldn't actually fix breakfast – it was already set out for us – but I did pour myself some cereal and slap two pancakes on a plate for Walt. To cheer him up, I drizzled a smiley face on them with maple syrup.
"A Sadie special," I announced, setting it in front of him.
He didn't even look, just stuck his fork into a pancake, making my syrup smile warp into a leer.
I sounded like a proper nag, but I couldn't help it. "Are you all right?"
He glanced my way for a moment, then stared at the table again. His brown eyes, usually so warm, looked clouded. "Yes. No. I – I can't do this anymore." He traced another symbol on the table with hard, angry movements.
"Do what?"
He stood up, pushing back his chair. "Never mind. I just want some time alone, ok?" Without waiting for me to answer, he stalked away, leaving the uneaten pancakes on the table.
I watched him go, and even though the world wasn't ending for the first time in ages, I still felt shattered.
