Isis

Oh, please, I'm called the Holder of Secret Names for a reason. No one gets to keep information away from me. Can't go to the library? Huh. I don't think so. Thankfully, Sadie understands one of the fundamental principals of life: when someone says I forbid it, that's a good sign it's worth doing.

Sadie turns on her heels and leaves the balcony behind. Her brother hurries in after her.

"Hold on!" Carter cries. "You can't just—"

Sadie looks at him. "Brother dear, did your soul leave your body again while Amos was talking, or did you actually hear him? Egyptian gods real. Red Lord bad. Red Lord's birthday: very soon, very bad. House of Life: fussy old magicians who hate our family because Dad was a bit of a rebel, whom by the way you could take a lesson from. Which leaves us—just us—with Dad missing, an evil god about to destroy the world, and an uncle who just jumped off the building—and I can't actually blame him." She stops to take a breath. Carter looks like he's about to comment, but she lifts her finger and goes on. "Am I missing anything? Oh, yes, I also have a brother who is supposedly quite powerful from an ancient bloodline, blah, blah, et cetera, but is too afraid to visit a library. Now, coming or not?"

Carter blinks, startled. "I just... I just think we should be careful."

He's afraid. Naturally. Being thrown into a life you know nothing about just so you could save it? That'd be a lot even for an adult. I'm surprised two kids are handling it so well, if I'm being honest. Sadie takes a moment to process this. It was her big brother, after all. Older, knowledgeable. Even if she doesn't want to admit it to herself, a part of her relies on him. Yet, a part of him relies on her, too.

Maybe I was a little too harsh, ah?

Maybe so.

Sadie sighs. "Look, we need to help Dad, yes? There's got to be some powerful stuff in that library, otherwise Amos wouldn't keep it locked up. You do want to help Dad?"

Carter shifts uncomfortably. "Yeah...of course."

And so they head for the library, but the baboon notices them. Khufu grips his basketball and jumps in front of the sealed doors. He barks, bearing his disgusting flamingo-covered teeth.

Carter smiles at him. "Khufu, we're not going to steal anything. We just want—"

"Agh!" Khufu dribbles his basketball angrily.

"Carter," says Sadie, "you're not helping. Look here, Khufu. I have...ta-da!" She shows him a little yellow box of cereal she's taken from the buffet table. Smart girl. "Cheerios! Ends with an -o. Yumsies!"

"Aghhh!" Khufu grunts, more excited now than angry.

"Want it? Just take it to the couch and pretend you didn't see us, yes?"

She sends the cereal flying towards the couch. Khufu jumps and catches it mid-air, then excitedly runs straight up the wall and sits on the fireplace mantel.

Carter looks at her. "How did you-"

"Some of us think ahead. Now, let's open these doors."

Easier said than done. The doors are made of thick wood laced with giant steel chains. Even if that wasn't a problem, the magical seal placed upon them is. It's a beautiful piece of work, delicately craved into the steel. Seals like this one take a lot of effort, time, energy and power. I simply have to know what's hiding behind it.

Carter steps forward and lifts his hand, much like the previous night. The movement is mundane, however. You can't simply do a movement and expect it to work, much like you can't simply recite something and expect wonders. It would be nice, but that's not how magic works. You have to know why and how things work, to understand their essence, to put your energy behind those words and actions. Magic needs intention. Magic needs understanding. Above all, magic needs the unshakable believe that the outcome is already there, even if it doesn't seem so. And Carter's eyes were full of doubt the second the thought occurred to him.

When yesterday's trick doesn't work, he goes on to shake the chains and yank on the padlock. Again nothing.

"No good," he says.

Carter's effort gives me an idea. Horus had shown his presence yesterday, it was my turn to act out. I whisper.

"Child, listen to me now. Can you hear me? I hope you can. Why don't we just, I don't know, explode the doors of their hinges?"

Her neck tingles. She can hear me. I allow myself a moment to smile.

Sadie turns to Carter. "What was that word Amos used at breakfast with the saucer?"

"For 'join'?" Carter says. "Hi-nehm or something."

"No."

"No, the other one, for 'destroy'."

"Uh, ha-di. But you'd need to know magic and the hieroglyphics, wouldn't you? And even then—"

I've got it covered. I'm about to give her more instructions, when her instincts kick in. She raises her hand towards the door. Two fingers pointing at the doors, her thumb grounding her energy towards the.. well, the ground. I pour my magic through her arm, mixing it with hers, and directing it down to her fingertips.

"Ha-di!"

Bright gold hieroglyphs burn against the largest padlock.

The doors explode. I may have misjudged how much to boost her power. The expected outcome was the chains falling apart, maybe a hole in the door. After that kind of a blast, I'm not sure if there even is a door. Good to know for next time. The shock wave from the explosion hits just as I build up a protective shield around Sadie. Carter hits the floor as chains shatter and splinters fly all over the Great Room. When the dust clears, Carter gets up, covered in wood shavings. The cat is here now, too, curious about the explosion.

Carter stares at Sadie. "How exactly—"

"Don't know," Soon you will. "But the library's open."

"Think you overdid it a little? We're going to be in so much trouble—"

"We'll just figure out a way to zap the door back, won't we?"

"No more zapping, please. That explosion could've killed us."

Now that's an overreaction, don't you think?

"Oh, do you think if you tried that spell on a person—"

"No!" Carter takes a shaky step back.

Sadie's body holds back, but I can see her ba smile. "Let's just explore the library, shall we?"

She steps forward and the world spins. Yup, I overdid it. Carter steadies her when she stumbles.

"You okay?"

"Fine," She knows it's a lie. "I'm tired"—her stomach rumbles—"and famished."

"You just ate a huge breakfast."

The energy of which is used up already. I'm sure you've heard the analogy that magic is like a muscle? The body treats it as such. If you've never done magic before, even small things can feel like running a marathon.

Carter narrows his eyes. "Those hieroglyphs you created were golden. Dad and Amos both used blue. Why?"

Ah, energy color correspondences, one of the secrets of magic. It's actually quite simple. Magic is, in its purest form, the manipulation of energies. Everything is energy – even colors. A magician's power matches with a color, that is alike in energy. Sadie is a godling, whether she knows it yet or not. Her magic is connected to mine, so is the color. Gold is a warm color, usually associated with compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom. It's also regal and elegant. It carries power. I've always had a certain level of adoration for it.

Sadie shrugs. "Maybe everyone has his own color. Maybe you'll get hot pink."

It's a possibility.

"Very funny."

"Come on, pink wizard. Inside we go."

The library is divine. Then again, I wouldn't dare expect any less. 21st has always been quite the extravagant nome. The doorway leads onto a small platform. A spiral staircase descends three stories to the bottom floor. Every centimeter of the walls, floor and ceiling are decorated with ornate drawings of monsters and gods. The ceiling is a blue, star-filled sky. The different shades of blue swerve around the constellations, shaping the outline of a woman. She lays curled on her side—her body, arms, and legs dark blue and dotted with stars. The floor follows suit, the green-and-brown earth shaped into a man's body, dotted with forests and hills and cities. A river flows along his chest.

It's been centuries since I've seen my parents, eons since we've had a real conversation. Guess family relationships get strained when your kids are trying to kill each other. The walls are honeycombed with round cubbyholes, each one holding a cylinder. Shabtis stand waiting at the four points of the compass. The one on east holds a stylus and scroll. South has a short, hooked staff. North is holding a box. The West one is empty-handed.

"Sadie." Carter points to the center of the room. Julius Kane's workbag is positioned on a long, stone table.

Carter heads for the stairs. Sadie grabs his arm. "Hang on. What about traps?"

He frowns. "Traps?"

"Didn't Egyptian tombs have traps?"

"Well...sometimes. But this isn't a tomb. Besides, more often they had curses, like the burning curse, the donkey curse—"

"Oh, lovely. That sounds so much better."

Carter starts walking down. After a moment of hesitation, Sadie follows him to the stone table. Carter opens the bag and looks inside. He takes out Julius's box. The scenes carved into the wood catch Sadie's attention.

"How did the Egyptians move like that?" she asks "All sideways with their arms and legs out. It seems quite silly."

There have been very few moments in my divine existence when I've wanted to sink into Duat and die. That's one of them.

Carter looks at her like he's just died a little inside. Same.

"They didn't walk like that in real life, Sadie."

"Well, why are they painted like that, then?"

"They thought paintings were like magic. If you painted yourself, you had to show all your arms and legs. Otherwise, in the afterlife you might be reborn without all your pieces."

"Then why the sideways faces? They never look straight at you. Doesn't that mean they'll lose the other side of their face?"

Carter hesitates. "I think they were afraid the picture would be too human if it was looking right at you. It might try to become you."

Might is an understatement. Magicians are usually good at telling apart fakes, but incidents do occur.

"So is there anything they weren't afraid of?"

"Little sisters," Carter says. "If they talked too much, the Egyptians threw them to the crocodiles."

It takes Sadie a second to realize he was joking. Then she punches him.

"Just open the bloody box."

Carter opens the box and looks at it's content. Finally, he takes out a lump of white wax.

"Wax," Carter pronounces.

"Fascinating." Sadie reaches for the box and takes out a wooden stylus and a palette, along with a few glass jars of the ink itself. "And a prehistoric painting set."

Carter pulls out several lengths of brown twine, a small ebony cat statue, and a roll of papyrus. Finally, they found the shabti.

Sadie makes a face. "Ew."

The shabti is, for a lack of better word, horrific. No wonder Julius leaves the shabtis to his brother. It was probably made in a hurry, but even this is not an excuse for such a slippery job. The figure has its arms crossed over the chest. The mouth is open, the legs cut off at the knees. A lock of human hair wraps around its waist like a belt. The cat jumps on the table to sniff the shabti. I'm also inclined to let her eat it.

Carter leaves everything at the table. He looks inside the box again, making sure nothing is left at the bottom.

"There's nothing here."

"What do you want?" Sadie asks. "We've got wax, some toilet papyrus, an ugly statue—"

"Something to explain what happened to Dad. How do we get him back? Who was that fiery man he summoned?"

Bored, Sadie holds up the shabti. "You heard him, warty little troll. Tell us what you know."

The wax turns as soft and warm as flesh. This is bound to be interesting. The shabti comes to live and says: "I answer the call."

Sadie screams, dropping the shabti. The figure falls on its head.

"Ow!" it says.

The cat buts its nose into the shabti and it starts swearing in Kemetic. When that doesn't work, it switches to English. "Go away! I'm not a mouse!"

Sadie picks up the cat from the table and leaves her on the floor.

Carter swallows slowly, eyes wide. "What are you?" he asks.

"I'm a shabti, of course!" The figurine rubs its dented head. Unfortunately, magic doesn't make it look less like a formless lump. "Master calls me Doughboy, though I find the name insulting. You may call me Supreme-Force-Who-Crushes-His-Enemies!"

Sadie nods. "All right, Doughboy."

Did the shabti just scowl? It's hard to tell with that mashed-up face. I think it's scowling.

"You weren't supposed to trigger me! Only the master does that."

"The master, meaning Dad," says Sadie. "Er, Julius Kane?"

"That's him," Doughboy grumbles. "Are we done yet? Have I fulfilled my service?"

Carter stares at Sadie blankly, but her mind is already raising.

"So, Doughboy," She turns to the Shabti. "You were triggered when I picked you up and gave you a direct order: Tell us what you know. Is that correct?"

Doughboy crosses its arms. "You're just toying with me now. Of course that's correct. Only the master is supposed to be able to trigger me, by the way. I don't know how you did it, but he'll blast you to pieces when he finds out."

Carter clears his throat. "Doughboy, the master is our dad, and he's missing. He's been magically sent away somehow and we need your help—"

"Master is gone?" Doughboy grins, stretching wildly its toothless mouth. "Free at last! See you, suckers!"

It tries to run away, but without feet one can go just as far. Doughboy ends up face-flat on the stone table. That doesn't stop it. The shabti starts crawling towards the edge, dragging forward with its hands. "Free! Free!"

It falls off the table and onto the floor with a thud, but nothing seems to stop its crawl to freedom. "Free! Free!"

Sadie watches it for a little bit, lets this little clump of clay taste hope. Then she picks it up and throws it in Julius's box. The shabti tries to get out, but is too short. It jumps twice, hands stretched out towards the rim of the box, before giving up.

"Trapped!" it wails. "Trapped!"

"Oh, shut up," says Sadie. "I'm the mistress now. And you'll answer my questions."

Carter raises his eyebrow. "How come you get to be in charge?"

"Because I was smart enough to activate him."

"You were just joking around!"

Sadie ignores him and turns back to the shabti. "Now, Doughboy, first off, what's a shabti?"

"Will you let me out of the box if I tell you?"

"You have to tell me," she points out. "And no, I won't."

It sighs. "Shabti means answerer, as even the stupidest slave could tell you."

Carter snaps his fingers. "I remember now! The Egyptians made models out of wax or clay—servants to do every kind of job they could imagine in the afterlife. They were supposed to come to life when their master called, so the deceased person could, like, kick back and relax and let the shabti do all his work for eternity."

"First," Doughboy says, "that is typical of humans! Lazing around while we do all the work. Second, afterlife work is only one function of shabti. We are also used by magicians for a great number of things in this life, because magicians would be total incompetents without us. Third, if you know so much, why are you asking me?"

"Why did Dad cut off your legs," Sadie asks, "and leave you with a mouth?"

"I—" The statue claps its little hands over its little mouth. "Oh, very funny. Threaten the wax statue. Big bully! He cut my legs off so I wouldn't run away or come to life in perfect form and try to kill him, naturally. Magicians are very mean. They maim statues to control them. They are afraid of us!"

"Would you come to life and try to kill him, had he made you perfectly?"

"Probably," Doughboy admits. "Are we done?"

"Not by half. What happened to our dad?"

Doughboy shrugs. "How should I know? But I see his wand and staff aren't in the box."

"No," Carter says. "The staff—the thing that turned into a snake—it got incinerated. And the wand...is that the boomerang thing?"

"The boomerang thing?" Doughboy says. "Gods of Eternal Egypt, you're dense. Of course that's his wand."

"It got shattered," says Sadie.

Doughboy looks up, thoughtfully. "Tell me how."

And so Carter tells him the story. Such a waste of time.

"This is wonderful!" Doughboy cries out.

"Why?" Sadie asks. "Is Dad still alive?"

"No!" Doughboy says. "He's almost certainly dead. The five gods of the Demon Days released? Wonderful! And anyone who duels with the Red Lord—"

"Wait! I order you to tell me what happened."

"Ha! I only have to tell you what I know. Making educated guesses is a completely different task. I declare my service fulfilled!"

The wax solidifies again, leaving not a trace of a consciousness behind it.

"Wait!" Sadie picks the shabti up again and shakes it. "Tell me your educated guesses!"

But that's not how it works.

"Maybe he's got a timer," Carter says. "Like only once a day. Or maybe you broke him."

"Carter, make a helpful suggestion! What do we do now?"

He looks at the four ceramic statues on their pedestals. "Maybe—"

"Other shabti?"

"Worth a shot."

The kids split up, going for different statues. No luck there. They tried their best to make the statues come to life, but rules are rules: shabtis answer only to fulfill their specific purposes. In this case, whatever Amos Kane intended them to be. At one point, Sadie's frustration makes her magic bubble underneath her skin. Finally, they decide to check out the scrolls. Maybe there would be a helpful book in a library? Who would have thought?

Some papyruses look new, some are probably part of a centuries old family collection. Magicians are always so fond of their magical family collections. Each canister is labeled in hieroglyphs and in English.

"The Book of the Heavenly Cow," Carter reads on one. "What kind of name is that? What've you got, The Heavenly Badger?"

"No," Sadie looks at the cylinder in front of her. "The Book of Slaying Apophis."

Yiech. Better save that one for a… future reference. A part of me holds onto the tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Ruby was wrong. The future is never set in stone, maybe freeing Bast did the trick. I know how slim that chance is, how it could hold me back. Yet, a part of me doesn't want to admit the world might be ending. Maybe the same part that feels responsible for it.

The cat meows in the corner. Her tail is puffed up. Same, girl, same.

"What's wrong with her?" Sadie asks.

"Apophis was a giant snake monster," Carter mutters. "He was bad news."

Yeah, was.

The cat, all of a sudden on edge, turns and races up the stairs, back into the Great Room. Knowing Bast, that can't be good.

Sadie is ready to give up. Just as she's about to tell Carter this is useless, she freezes. There is a slight hum coming from one of the niches. No, not a hum. A slight buzzing sound. She glances at Carter, but he seems busy looking through the scrolls. Sadie picks up the cylinder. The scrolls inside is called "The book of the Evil Day." Evil Day? Hm… this sounds familiar. I can't remember for the life of me who that's referring though. Behind the scroll is a ringing smartphone. Sadie doesn't get to see the name of the caller, before the screen goes black. They have left a message, too. The notification flashes across the screen. It says "I can't believe you blocked her number."

"Sadie" Carter calls out to her, holding another scroll. "Look at this."

Sadie shoves the phone in her pocket and goes over to her brother. He's found a papyrus that is quite long, and most of the text on it seems to be lines of hieroglyphs. A catalog.

"Can you read any of this?" Carter asks.

Sadie frowns at the writing, but the protections placed upon it keep her from reading it. Except for one line at the top.

"Only that bit where the title should be. It says...Blood of the Great House. What does that mean?"

"Great house," Carter muses. "What do the words sound like in Egyptian?"

"Per-roh. Oh, it's pharaoh, isn't it? But I thought a pharaoh was a king?"

"It is. The word literally means 'great house,' like the king's mansion. Sort of like referring to the president as 'the White House.' So here it probably means more like Blood of the Pharaohs, all of them, the whole lineage of all the dynasties, not just one guy."

"So why do I care about the pharaohs' blood, and why can't I read any of the rest?"

Carter stares at the lines. Suddenly his eyes widen. "They're names. Look, they're all written inside cartouches."

Smart boy, good job. I wonder if he figured it out himself or my son helped him out. Probably both, they seem to think alike.

"Excuse me?" Sadie asks.

"The circles. They symbolize magic ropes. They're supposed to protect the holder of the name from evil magic." He eyes her. "And possibly also from other magicians reading their names."

"Oh, you're mental." Maybe. But he's also right.

"Sadie," Carter says, his voice urgent. He points to a cartouche at the very end of the list—the last entry in a catalogue of thousands.

Inside the circle are just two symbols – a basket and a wave.

"KN," Carter announces. "I know this one. It's our name, KANE."

"Missing a few letters, isn't it?"

Carter shakes his head. "Egyptians usually didn't write vowels. Only consonants. You have to figure out the vowel sounds from context."

"They really were nutters. So that could be KON or IKON or KNEE or AKNE."

"It could be. But it's our name, Kane. I asked Dad to write it for me in hieroglyphs once, and that's how he did it. But why are we in this list? And what is 'blood of the pharaohs'?"

I take her chin and slowly turn her head towards a recent memory. Amos, at the terrace, talking about how ancient both sides of their family are. In the outer world Carter's eyes meet hers.

"There's no way," She says.

"Must be some kind of joke," he agrees. "Nobody keeps family records that far back."

Sadie swallows, her throat dry. The sweet taste of denial. I've had my fair share of it recently, too.

"Let's keep looking."

After a few more minutes, Sadie finds what I guess technically counts as a family portrait: All five Demon Days in hybrid form, our mother arching over us, shielding us from the world. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those times. There were no fights, no wars, no heartache. Even Set wasn't that bad. Yes, a pain to live with, but all siblings are. I don't think I've been back at mom's palace since me and Osiris moved out. I should really make it a point to find where she lives now after this is all over.

While looking at the painting, something clicks in Sadie's mind.

"Carter," she calls. "What's this, then?"

He comes over to take a look and his eyes light up.

"That's it!" he announces. "These five...and up here, their mother, Nut."

Sadie laughs. "A goddess named Nut? Is her last name Case?"

"Very funny," Carter says. "She was the goddess of the sky."

He points at the ceiling. The two paintings are almost identical.

"So what about her?" Sadie asks.

"Something about the Demon Days. It had to do with the birth of these five gods, but it's been a long time since Dad told me the story. This whole scroll is written in hieratic, I think. That's like hieroglyph cursive. Can you read it?"

I can't read cursive. Sadie shakes her head. Apparently, she can't either.

"I wish I could find the story in English," says Carter.

A crackling noise, right behind. The empty-handed shabti awakes. It marches towards a cubbyhole on the other side of the room and takes a cylinder. A librarian? Handy. It brings the scroll to Carter and returns to its pedestal, once again solid and unmooving.

"It's a retrieval shabti," Sadie says. "A clay librarian!"

Sadie turns to the shabti and narrows her eyes. "I wonder…Sandwich and chips, please!"

None of the shabtis respond. As if Kane would allow food in his library.

Carter uncaps the cylinder and takes out the scroll. He sighs with relief.

"This version is in English."

The longer he reads, the deeper his frown gets.

"You don't look happy," Sadie notes.

"Because I remember the story now. The five gods...if Dad really released them, it isn't good news."

Nice to meet you, too. Damn.

"Hang on," Sadie says. "Start from the beginning."

Carter takes a shaky breath. "Okay. So the sky goddess, Nut, was married to the earth god, Geb."

"That would be this chap on the floor?" Sadie taps her foot on the painting.

"Right. Anyway, Geb and Nut wanted to have kids, but the king of the gods, Ra—he was the sun god—heard this bad prophecy that a child of Nut—"

"Child of Nut," Sadie snickers. "Sorry, go on."

"—a child of Geb and Nut would one day replace Ra as king. So when Ra learned that Nut was pregnant, Ra freaked out. He forbade Nut to give birth to her children on any day or night of the year."

Sadie crosses her arms. "So what, she had to stay pregnant forever? That's awfully mean."

Yeah, it is. He just couldn't accept the fact that his time was long past overdue.

Carter shakes his head. "Nut figured out a way. She set up a game of dice with the moon god, Khons. Every time Khons lost, he had to give Nut some of his moonlight. He lost so many times, Nut won enough moonlight to create five new days and tag them on to the end of the year."

"Oh, please. First, how can you gamble moonlight? And if you did, how could you make extra days out of it?"

"It's a story! Anyway, the Egyptian calendar had three hundred and sixty days in the year, just like the three hundred and sixty degrees in a circle. Nut created five days and added them to the end of the year—days that were not part of the regular year."

"The Demon Days," Sadie guesses. "So the myth explains why a year has three hundred and sixty-five days. And I suppose she had her children—"

"During those five days," Carter agrees. "One kid per day."

"Again, how do you have five children in a row, each on a different day?"

"They're gods," Carter says. "They can do stuff like that."

"Makes as much sense as the name Nut. But please, go on."

"So when Ra found out, he was furious, but it was too late. The children were already born. Their names were Osiris—"

"The one Dad was after."

"Then Horus, Set, Isis, and, um..." Carter consults his scroll. "Nephthys. I always forget that one."

She won't be happy to hear this.

"And the fiery man in the museum said, you have released all five."

"Exactly. What if they were imprisoned together and Dad didn't realize it? They were born together, so maybe they had to be summoned back into the world together. The thing is, one of these guys, Set, was a really bad dude. Like, the villain of Egyptian mythology. The god of chaos and desert storms."

Sadie shivers. "Did he perhaps have something to do with fire?"

One of his domains, yes.

Carter points to one of the figurines on the picture. A god with a sha head and bright red clothes and hair.

"The Red Lord," Sadie says.

"Sadie, there's more," Carter says. "Those five days—the Demon Days—were bad luck in Ancient Egypt. You had to be careful, wear good luck charms, and not do anything important or dangerous on those days. And in the British Museum, Dad told Set: They'll stop you before the Demon Days are over."

"Surely you don't think he meant us," says Sadie. "We're supposed to stop this Set character?"

I'm so sorry, sweetheart.

Carter nods. "And if the last five days of our calendar year still count as the Egyptian Demon Days—they'd start on December 27, the day after tomorrow."

Demon Days and evil bunny gods—if I hear one more impossible thing, my head would explode.

I smile at her. "It's not impossible. To save your Dad, we must defeat Set."

Back in the Great Room, something crashes. The chattering noises after that sound like glass. Khufu begins to bark in alarm.

Carter and Sadie lock eyes and run for the stairs.