“Hathor,” Zia said. “That is Sekhmet’s other form. The flip side of her personality.”
Sadie shook her head in disbelief. “So you’re saying we offer to buy Sekhmet a few pints, and she’ll turn into a cow.”
“Not exactly,” Zia said. “But salsa is red, is it not?”
We skirted the factory grounds as Sekhmet chewed up trucks and blasted huge swathes of the parking lot to sand.
“I hate this plan,” Sadie grumbled.
“Just keep her occupied for a few seconds,” I said. “And don’t die.”
“Yeah, that’s the hard bit, isn’t it?”
“One...” I counted. “Two...three!”
Sadie burst into the open and used her favorite spell: “Ha-di!”
The glyphs blazed over Sekhmet’s head:
And everything around her exploded. Trucks burst to pieces. The air shimmered with energy. The ground heaved upward, creating a crater fifty feet deep into which the lioness tumbled.
It was pretty impressive, but I didn’t have time to admire Sadie’s work. I turned into a falcon and launched myself toward the salsa tanks.
“RRAAAARR!” Sekhmet leaped out of the crater and breathed desert wind in Sadie’s direction, but Sadie was long gone. She ran sideways, ducking behind trailers and releasing a few lengths of magical rope as she fled. The ropes whipped through the air and tried to tie themselves around the lioness’s mouth. They failed, of course, but they did annoy the Destroyer.
“Show yourself!” Sekhmet bellowed. “I will feast on your flesh!”
Perched on a silo, I concentrated all my power and turned straight from falcon to avatar. My glowing form was so heavy, its feet sank into the top of t
he tank.
“Sekhmet!” I yelled.
The lioness whirled and snarled, trying to locate my voice.
“Up here, kitty!” I called.
She spotted me and her ears went back. “Horus?”
“Unless you know another guy with a falcon head.”
She padded back and forth uncertainly, then roared in challenge. “Why do you speak to me when I am in my raging form? You know I must destroy everything in my path, even you!”
“If you must,” I said. “But first, you might like to feast on the blood of your enemies!”
I drove my sword into the tank and salsa gushed out in a chunky red waterfall. I leaped to the next tank and sliced it open. And again, and again, until six silofuls of Magic Salsa were spewing into the parking lot.
“Ha, ha!” Sekhmet loved it. She leaped into the red sauce torrent, rolling in it, lapping it up. “Blood. Lovely blood!”
Yeah, apparently lions aren’t too bright, or their taste buds aren’t very developed, because Sekhmet didn’t stop until her belly was bulging and her mouth literally began to smoke.
“Tangy,” she said, stumbling and blinking. “But my eyes hurt. What kind of blood is this? Nubian? Persian?”
“Jalapeño,” I said. “Try some more. It gets better.”
Her ears were smoking too now as she tried to drink more. Her eyes watered, and she began to stagger.
“I...” Steam curled from her mouth. “Hot...hot mouth...”