"But no one is strong at night; no one can fight alone; no success is achieved without a helper." - The Instruction of King Amenemhet I for his son Sesostris I

19.03.2015, Makan al-Ramal al-Hamrah

Ayanna Kane

Finding Zia hadn't gone quite the way we had hoped. Granted, she was confused, and we could have worked with that. Up until the House of Life's "Fuck the Kanes" squad arrived and muddied her mind even more.

Now my role-model was convinced we were enemies, Bes was locked in a glowing fluorescent cage, Carter's sword was gone and I was praying I could concentrate for long enough to summon my staff. Oh, there were also, of course, literal primordial weapons in Carter's hands, which felt a little like giving a 14 year old the control of nuclear weapons.

Vladimir Menshikov, the most famous murderer in the entire House of Life, was just holding on for an order to kill us. Michel Desjardins, a man who used to smuggle halva into Brooklyn for me, seemed more than happy to give said order.

Okay, he did look a little sad. But he wasn't doing shit to stand up for us, either! The Chief Lector looked like a tired, lifeless doll, waiting patiently for its string to be pulled in whichever direction.

There was no place to go. Red mud stretched in all directions, dotted with wreckage and dead fish. Which smelled, on top of everything else. We couldn't fight them off. The magicians, not the dead fish.

We could die or get captured. Which meant that, in the time it took me and Carter to back up to steps of Zia's tomb, I had already decided. I wasn't getting out of this alive. Might as well go out with a bang.

Well, it was more of a thud, as my staff hit the rock.

Menshikov's scarred eyes glittered. "Feel free to resist, Kane. Using deadly force would make my job so much easier."

"Vladimir, stop," Desjardins said wearily, leaning on his staff. "Kids, don't be foolish. Surrender now."

Zia stood next to him. She glanced warily at Menshikov. If she had any suspicions, she didn't voice them.

I looked at Carter. Are we riling him up?

He looked back at me. Let's hope he slips up.

"What's your plan, Vlad?" Carter asked. "You let us get away from St. Petersburg too easily. Almost like you want us to awaken Ra."

Menshikov laughed. "Is that why I followed you halfway across the world to stop you?"

"No, you didn't come to stop us." I said. "You just don't want your Chief Lector to get suspicious. Can't twist his thoughts, if he knows you're a traitor."

He did his best to look scornful, but a smile tugged at his lips, as if we were sharing a private joke. "Oh, how the young lie."

"You're counting on us to find the scrolls for you and put them together." Carter guessed. "Do you need Ra to wake up in order to free Apophis?"

"Enough." Desjardins spoke in a monotone, like a surgery patient counting backward, waiting for anesthesia to kick in. This sentence should have been a yell. Then I could pretend he was just a misguided ass, could avoid facing how deep the chaos had sunk its fangs.

"That's it, isn't it?" Carter pushed on. "Ma'at and Chaos are connected. To free Apophis, you have to wake Ra, but you want to control the summoning, make sure Ra comes back old and weak."

Menshikov's new oaken staff burst into green flames, textbook Disney villain style.

"Boy, you have no idea what you are saying."

"Set teased you about a past mistake. You tried to awaken Ra once before, didn't you? Using what-only the one scroll you had? Is that how you burned your face?"

"Carter!" Desjardins interrupted. "Vlad Menshikov is a hero of the House of Life. He tried to destroy that scroll to keep anyone else from using it. That's how he was injured."

I hummed. "Well, that's one hell of a villain origin story."

Menshikov rolled his eyes, before focusing them on Carter." You should do your homework, boy. The Menshikovs are descended from the priests of Amun-Ra. You've heard of that temple?"

"They pretty much controlled Egypt for centuries," Carter said. Even life-threatening danger cannot stop an infodump. "They opposed Akhenaton when he outlawed the old gods, maybe even assassinated him."

"Indeed," Menshikov said. "My ancestors were champions of the gods! They are the ones who created the Book of Ra and hid its three sections, hoping that someday, a worthy magician would reawaken their sun god."

"But if you're descended from priests of Ra-"

"Why do I oppose the gods?" Menshikov glanced at the Chief Lector as if I'd asked a predictably stupid question. "Because the gods destroyed our civilization!"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, that's just factually wrong." Menshikov's gaze turned to me, burning up with anger. I shrugged. "What? You're about to kill us anyways. Even if we push aside the fact that the word 'civilization' gives me the ick-"

"Shut up! The old ways must be forbidden! I tried to destroy the scroll, to make up for the sins of my ancestors. Those who summon the gods must be wiped out."

I chuckled, earning myself a horrified look from Carter. But, like I said, I had already decided. We were screwed anyways, but I could make sure Zia gets out. He couldn't have her, too. I was sick of monsters twisting the free will of those I loved.

"Funny, you say you are nothing like your ancestors. Yet you are ready to murder children and spew lies, just to keep your power. You are cold and cruel, just like your ancestors and their stupid curses!"

Menshikov turned to Desjardins, playing up so well his fake sorrow. "I am afraid, I was right. They are too far gone. They can't be helped, they must be killed."

Carter shook his head. "I saw you summon Set. I heard you talk about freeing Apophis. Desjardins, Zia-this guy is lying. He's going to kill you both."

Desjardins looked at us in a kind of daze, a zombie-like trance. I wonder whose voice he was hearing in his head as he spoke:

"No more. Come peacefully, or be destroyed."

I gave Zia one more pleading look. I could see the doubt in her eyes. Maybe we still had a chance to get her out of here. Carter and I locked eyes. Our final silent conversation. I could see the sad, half-joking, warning in his eyes. Don't you dare make this a goodbye.

He raised the crook and flail. "We're not going peacefully."

Menshikov nodded. "Then, destruction it is."

He pointed his staff at Carter. Instinct took over and I send a gush of air, throwing little pieces of red mud and sand in his face. The wind ripped the staff out of Menshikov's hand and sent it flying into the Nile.

Menshikov's gaze lingered on the anger in my eyes, studying me. Something flashed in his face. For a split second I saw something inhumane, primordial. The look he sent me was chilling. A look of recognition, though what it was he thought he saw, was beyond me.

All I knew, was that I was his new target. He held out his wand. Before I could react, Carter lashed out with the crook. We were much too far away to reach him, but some invisible force slashed the air and Menshikov went flying. He landed on his back so hard, he made a mud angel.

I wasn't sure what was stronger – the shock or the amazement. My cousin had just used the magical equivalent of an atom bomb (or maybe an Aton bomb). And he seemed to be good at it!

"Carter!" Desjardins pushed Zia behind him. His own staff lit with purple fire. "You dare to use the weapons of Ra?"

Carter looked at his hands in amazement, having a hard time believing it, too. "You're going to kill me anyway."

And then, he did something I'd only ever heard him talk about. His body began to glow. He rose off the ground, encased in the avatar of the hawk god-a falcon-headed warrior three times his normal size. In its hands were massive holographic replicas of the crook and flail.

I hadn't paid much attention to the flail, but it was a wicked pain-bringer-a wooden handle with three barbed chains, each topped by a spiky metal asterisk - like a combination whip and meat tenderizer.

Carter took a swipe at the ground, and the falcon warrior mirrored the action. The glowing flail pulverized the stone steps of Zia's tomb, sending blocks of limestone flying through the air. I managed to raise a shield, pretty much as quickly as Desjardins. Zia's eyes widened.

We were scaring her. This was not the way today was supposed to go. But there was no turning back now, I suppose.

"Combat magic," Desjardins said with disdain. "This is what the House of Life was like when we followed the path of the gods, Carter Kane: magician fighting magician, backstabbing and duels between the different temples. Do you want those times to return?"

"They never left!" I yelled. "You just learned to hide them better, behind half-hearted talks of justice!"

"I don't want to fight you, Desjardins," Carter said. "but Menshikov is a traitor. Get out of here. Let me deal with him."

Menshikov rose from the mud, smiling like he enjoyed getting thrown around. "Deal with me? How confident! By all means, Chief Lector, let the boy try. I'll be sure to pick up the pieces when I'm done."

Desjardins started to say, "Vladimir, no. It's not your place-"

But Carter swiped at Menshikov with the crook. The invisible force hooked him around the neck and lifted him off the ground.

"Do it!" he choked out. "Show me-your power-godling! Won't matter-" His hands clawed at his neck, but not for a breath. He ripped off his silver snake pendant, throwing it down. "I'm not going down alone!"

The mud turned dry and white all underneath him. Two long, thin, white lines crossed over each other like a DNA helix. But they weren't aiming for Carter. They were racing each other towards my shield.

Carter smashed at them with the flail, taking out a section of mud large enough for a hot tub. The white lines just kept coming, bleaching their way down the pit and climbing the other side, racing toward me.

A laugh, chilling and dark.

"Kill me," Menshikov gasped. "Kill me, instead of saving her. Show us you're a murderer, Carter Kane! Show us what you value!"

Secretly, deeply, I wished Carter would kill him. Maybe my shield was strong enough, if I-

Menshikov dropped to the ground.

"No!"

I couldn't react fast enough, couldn't even scream as the idiot moved in front of me. The lines of magic reached his feet. They wove like vines up the avatar's legs until he was tangled to the waist. They squeezed against his shielding. The avatar flickered weekly.

It fought to maintain its form, but Menshikov's magic was strong. The glowing white vines kept rising, encircling the chest, the arms. The combat avatar crumpled to its knees, inside it Carter's face had gone blue.

My blood turned cold. I dropped my shield, tried to reach him, but Menshikov was faster. His magic lifted me up and it was my turn to struggle through every breath. I reached up for my throat, watching in terror as the limbs on Carter's avatar shrank, the hawk's head slowly changing into the head of a serpent.

Zia cried out. "Stop it! This is too much!"

"On the contrary," Menshikov said, rubbing his chafed neck. "They deserve worse."

Carter's eyes had rolled back in his head. I couldn't tell whether the tears filling my eyes were physical, or emotional. Zia tried to run to us, but Desjardins held her back.

"Discontinue the spell, Vladimir," he said. "The boy can be contained in more humane ways."

"Humane, my lord? He's barely human!"

The two magicians locked eyes. I don't know what would've happened, if just then a portal hadn't opened under Bes's cage.