Iskandar.

-her shoulder. She looks at me, her eyes focused now. Thank Ma'at I'd decided to go for a midnight snack.

"Forgive the interruption," I tell her. "But you were almost dead."

And that's when she loses consciousness. There is a reason we don't let people touch the memories.

When she wakes up, we're sitting on the steps below the throne. The hall is empty and mostly dark, except for the glowing hieroglyphs in the air.

"Welcome back," I say. "You're lucky you survived."

"I'm sorry," Sadie says. "I didn't mean to—"

"Look at the images? And yet you did. Your ba left your body and entered the past. Hadn't you been warned?"

"Yes," She admits. "But...I was drawn to the pictures."

"Mmm." My eyes wonder down the hall. So many times I've been tempted to jump in the memories, go back to when my family was alive. Unfortunately, such is the curse of living longer than any magician. "They are hard to resist."

"You speak perfect English," Sadie notices.

I smile. "How do you know I'm speaking English? Perhaps you are speaking Greek."

"You're not really that old, are you?" she asks. "I mean, old enough to remember Ptolemaic times?"

"I am exactly that old, my dear. I was born in the reign of Cleopatra VII."

"Oh, please."

"I assure you, it's true. It was my sorrow to behold the last days of Egypt, before that foolhardy queen lost our kingdom to the Romans. I was the last magician to be trained before the House went underground. Many of our most powerful secrets were lost, including the spells my master used to extend my life. Magicians these days still live long—sometimes centuries—but I have been alive for two millennia."

"So you're immortal?"

I chuckle and end up choking on spit. I double over, coughing, my hands cupped over my mouth. The hieroglyphs flicker and dim around me. Finally, the coughing subsides. I take a shaky breath. Some blood has made its way out of my throat, too.

"Hardly immortal, my dear. In fact..." my voice trails off. Nectanebo is waving at me from within the darkness. "But never mind that. What did you see in your vision?"

So she tells me. The Age of the gods is a troublesome time. Thank Ma'at I found her before it was too late. I take a moment to respond, tapping my staff against the steps.

"You saw a very old event, Sadie—Set taking the throne of Egypt by force. He hid Osiris's coffin, you know, and Isis searched the entire world to find it."

Her eyes light up. "So she got him back eventually?"

"Not exactly. Osiris was resurrected—but only in the Underworld. He became the king of the dead. When their son, Horus, grew up, Horus challenged Set for the throne of Egypt and won after many hard battles. That is why Horus was called the Avenger. As I said—an old story, but one that the gods have repeated many times in our history."

"Repeated?"

"The gods follow patterns. In some ways they are quite predictable: acting out the same squabbles, the same jealousies down through the ages. Only the settings change, and the hosts."

Sadie chews on her lip. "In my vision," she says, "Isis and Osiris were married. Horus was about to be born as their son. But in another story Carter told me, all three of them were siblings, children of the sky goddess."

"Yes," I agree. "This can be confusing for those who do not know the nature of gods. They cannot walk the earth in their pure form—at least, not for more than a few moments. They must have hosts."

"Humans, you mean."

"Or powerful objects, such as statues, amulets, monuments, certain models of cars. But they prefer human form. You see gods have great power, but only humans have creativity, the power to change history rather than simply repeat it. Humans can...how do you moderns say it...think outside the cup."

"The box," she suggests.

Languages evolve so fast. I don't have the energy for them anymore.

"Yes. The combination of human creativity and godly power can be quite formidable. At any rate, when Osiris and Isis first walked the earth, their hosts were brother and sister. But mortal hosts are not permanent. They die, they wear out. Later in history, Osiris and Isis took new forms—humans who were husband and wife. Horus, who in one lifetime was their brother, was born into a new life as their son."

"That's confusing," Sadie's nose twitches. "And a little gross."

I shrug. "The gods do not think of relationships the way we humans do. Their hosts are merely like changes of clothes. This is why the ancient stories seem so mixed up. Sometimes the gods are described as married, or siblings, or parent and child, depending on their hosts. The pharaoh himself was called a living god, you know. Egyptologists believe this was just a lot of propaganda, but in fact it was often literally true. The greatest of the pharaohs became hosts for gods, usually Horus. He gave them power and wisdom, and let them build Egypt into a mighty empire."

"But that's good, isn't it? Why is it against the law to host a god?"

There are concepts that are so hard to explain to kids. Some things go rancid with time. Relationships that were your whole life drift away. Situations that were once beneficial become toxic. When you live as long as I have, you learn how important it is to let go off things that no longer serve you. No matter how much it hurts. I've been on this earth for so long. Perhaps, a little too long.

"Gods have different agendas than humans do, Sadie. They can overpower their hosts, literally burn them out. That is why so many hosts die young. Tutankhamen, poor boy, died at nineteen. Cleopatra VII was even worse. She tried to host the spirit of Isis without knowing what she was doing, and it shattered her mind. In the old days, the House of Life taught the use of divine magic. Initiates could study the path of Horus, or Isis, or Sekhmet, or any number of gods, learning to channel their powers. We had many more initiates back then."

I look around the empty hall. All the way up until the law against the gods was introduced, the House of Life used to celebrate Egypt's holidays. There were so many of us, dancing and drinking, as the very air vibrated with music. So many hosts went into hiding. Very few ancient bloodlines stayed within the House and they were always closely monitored. Right now, the best of the best probably don't even know magic exists.

"Some adepts could call upon the gods only from time to time. Others attempted to host their spirits...with varying degrees of success. The ultimate goal was to become the 'eye' of the god—a perfect union of the two souls, mortal and immortal. Very few achieved this, even among the pharaohs, who were born to the task. Many destroyed themselves trying." I turn up my palm. "When Egypt finally fell to the Romans, it became clear to us—to me—that mankind, our rulers, even the strongest magicians, no longer had the strength of will to master a god's power. The only ones who could..." My voice falters.

"What?"

"Nothing, my dear. I talk too much. An old man's weakness."

"It's the blood of the pharaohs, isn't it?"

I fix my gaze on her. For a girl raised magicless, she sure knows a lot already. And she said she turned into Isis by the end of the memory… "You are a remarkable young girl. You remind me of your mother."

Her mouth falls open. "You knew her?"

"Of course. She trained here, as did your father. Your mother...well, aside from being a brilliant scientist, she had the gift of divination. One of the most difficult forms of magic, and she was the first in centuries to possess it."

"Divination?"

"Seeing the future. Tricky business, never perfect, but she saw things that made her seek advice from...unconventional places, things that made even this old man question some long-held beliefs..."

Getting rid of the gods was our only way to survive. The House of Life was hanging on a very thin fragile thread. Thoth had an idea, and that idea worked for a long time. But history repeats, that's just what it does. When Isis poisoned Ra, it was the right thing to do temporarily. Yet, the gods grew weaker and with them, so this the House. So did Ma'at. A part of me has always been afraid I've fallen down the same path. After all, the gods are a part of Ma'at. Even the worst of them. I was too blinded by anger and hatred to see that. All those thoughts have been plaguing my mind ever since Ruby's first vision of the serpent. Ironically enough, I pray that when the time comes, I would've done the right things.

"Iskandar?" Sadie calls out to me.

I turn to her with mild surprise. How long have I been quite for? Hoe long have we been here for? Lately, my memory is worse than it's ever been. It's okay, though. It'll all be better soon.

"I'm sorry, Sadie. I should come to the point: you have a hard path ahead of you, but I'm convinced now it's a path you must take, for all our sakes. Your brother will need your guidance."

She looks sceptical. "Carter, need my guidance? For what? What path do you mean?"

"All in good time. Things must take their course."

"And what if I need guidance?"

"Zia," I say immediately. "She is my best pupil, and she is wise. When the time comes, she will know how to help you."

I hope Zia will be ready for all that's ahead of her. If my guesses are correct, Nephthys is just the first of her tasks.

"Right," Sadie sounds a bit disappointed. "Zia."

"For now you should rest, my dear." From across the hall, I can see figures begin to appear. My wife, my sister, my mother, my brother. My old friend and teacher, Nectanebo. When I speak again, I can sense the sadness in my voice. It sounds alien, as if someone else is speaking next to me. "And it seems I, too, can rest at last. I am sorry our time together was so brief. Sleep well, Sadie Kane."

"But-"

I know she has thousands of answer, just waiting to be answered. But I'm sure the new host of Isis would get all the answers soon enough. My job here is done. For now. I touch her forehead. She falls back and a bunch of little fireballs swarm to catch her.

I nod towards the general direction of the girl dormitories and they carry her away.

I rise, using my staff as support. Even so, my legs shake. The figures come closer. Arsinoë puts her hand on mine, taking hold of my staff.

She smiles. "Been a while, my love."

I would've probably smiled too if I had the energy. But I was already losing control of my body. My mother takes my other arm. My brother gestures towards the hidden door behind the dais. Together, they help me to the door. As I enter the room, my hands are already unclasping the leopard cape. I place it gently on one of the chairs around the stone table. May it not weight on those after me as much as it did on me. The figures have moved on, waiting by the two doors at the far end of the room. One leads to my personal chambers. The other to a part of First Nome, that was long forgotten.

For a moment I am hyperaware of my own breathing. Every exhale sounds strange, almost like a gurgling sound at the back of my throat. It's fine, I won't be breathing for much longer anyways.

Walking into my room, getting in bed, closing my eyes for the last. It all feels like a faraway dream, the world around me no more than an illusion.

I open my eyes. Flying feels nice. I look down. That's how they'll find then, huh? Peacefully asleep. That's good. The room is empty, aside from my body and me. And the teenage boy that walks in.

I tilt my head. "You came?"

He shrugs. "Everyone else is either locked away or still too week."

I nod. "Because of me. And yet you came?"

"Death doesn't discriminate. It simply takes."

"Yet we keep living anyways."

He shakes his head. "Not you, Chief Lector. Not anymore."

"Right."

A portal of black sand opens midair. "Osiris shall be back by the end of the Demon Days, so the wait shouldn't be long." He turns back to look at me and tilts his head. "Any regrets?"

There are so many things I can say. Maybe an apology is in order, too. But that's for later. Something else is on my mind right now. "I couldn't say goodbye to Zia. I haven't spoken with Amos in six years."

Anubis nods and walks through the portal. "I'm sure you'll get to someday."