The Serpent's Shadow (Kane Chronicles 3) - Page 63

On either side, marshy green riverbanks columned with palm trees stretched into the humid haze. A few houses dotted the landscape. A battered pickup truck rumbled down the riverfront road. A sailboat glided by on our port side. No one paid us any attention.

I wasn’t sure exactly where we were. It could’ve been anywhere along the Nile. But judging from the position of the sun, it was already late morning. We’d eaten and slept in my father’s realm, figuring we wouldn’t be able to close our eyes once we had custody of Setne. It hadn’t felt like much of a rest, but obviously we’d spent more time down under than I realized. The day was slipping by. Tomorrow at dawn, the rebels would attack the First Nome, and Apophis would rise.

Zia stood next to me at the bow. She’d showered and changed into a spare set of combat clothes—a camo tank top, olive cargo pants tucked into her boots. Maybe that doesn’t sound glamorous, but in the morning sunlight she was beautiful. Best of all, she was here in person—not a reflection in the scrying bowl, not a shabti. When the wind changed directions I caught the scent of her lemon shampoo. Our forearms touched as we leaned against the rail, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her skin was feverishly warm.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

She had trouble focusing on me. Up close, the flecks of green and black in her amber eyes were sort of hypnotizing. “I was thinking about Ra,” she said. “Wondering who’s taking care of him today.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

But I felt a little disappointed. Personally, I was thinking about the moment when Zia had taken my hand in the dining room last night: Sometimes you have to follow your heart. This might be our last day on earth. If it was, I should really tell Zia how I felt about her. I mean, I thought she knew, but I didn’t know that she knew, so…Oh, man. Headache.

I started to say, “Zia—”

Setne materialized next to us. “All better!”

In the daylight, he looked almost like flesh-and-blood, but when he turned in a circle, showing off his new clothes, his face and hands flickered holographically. I’d given him permission to put on something besides the loincloth. In fact, I’d insisted. But I hadn’t expected an outfit so mind-boggling.

Maybe he was trying to live up to Sadie’s nickname for him: Uncle Vinnie. He wore a black suit jacket with padded shoulders, a red T-shirt, a crisp pair of jeans, and blindingly white running shoes. Around his neck was a heavy gold chain of interlocking ankhs. On each pinky he wore a ring the size of a jawbreaker, with the symbol of power—was—set in diamonds. His hair was combed back with even more grease. His eyes were lined with kohl. He looked like the Ancient Egyptian Mafia.

Then I noticed something missing from his ensemble. He didn’t seem to be wearing the Ribbons of Hathor.

I’ll admit: I panicked. I yelled the command word Zia had taught me: “Tas!”

The symbol for Bind flared in Setne’s face:

The Ribbons of Hathor reappeared around his neck, wrists, ankles, chest, and waist. They expanded aggressively, cocooning Setne in a pink tornado until he was wrapped tight as a mummy, with nothing showing but his eyes.

“Mm!” he protested.

I took a deep breath. Then I snapped my fingers. The bindings shrank back to their normal size.

“What was that for?” Setne demanded.

“I didn’t see the ribbons.”

“You didn’t…” Setne laughed. “Carter, Carter, Carter. Come on, pal. That’s just an illusion—a cosmetic change. I can’t really get out of these things.”

He held out his wrists. The ribbons vanished, then reappeared. “See? I’m just concealing them, ’cause pink doesn’t go with my outfit.”

Zia snorted. “Nothing goes with that outfit.”

Setne shot her an irritated look. “No need to get personal, doll. Just relax, okay? You saw what happens—one word from you, and I’m tied up good. No problems.”

His tone sounded so reasonable. Setne was no problem. Setne would cooperate. I could just relax.

In the back of my mind, the voice of Horus said, Careful.

I raised my mental guard. Suddenly I was aware of hieroglyphs floating in the air around me—half-visible wisps of smoke. I willed them to disappear, and they fizzled like gnats in a bug zapper. “Stop it with the magic words, Setne. I’ll relax when our business is done and you’re back in my dad’s custody. Now, where are we going?”

A moment of surprise passed over Setne’s face. He hid it with a smile. “Sure, no problem. Glad to see that path of the gods magic is working out for you. How you doing in there, Horus?”

Zia snarled impatiently. “Just answer the question, you maggot, before I burn that smile off your face.”

She thrust out her hand. Flames wreathed her fingers.

“Zia, whoa,” I said.

Tags: Rick Riordan Kane Chronicles Fantasy
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