I saw the fractured light in his eyes, and I realized something that shocked me to the core. Menshikov didn’t want this any more than we did. He’d lived with grief and despair so long that Apophis had twisted his soul, made him a prisoner of his own hateful feelings. Vladimir Menshikov pretended to gloat, but he didn’t feel any sense of triumph. Inside he was terrified, defeated, miserable. He was enslaved by Apophis. I almost felt sorry for him.
“We’re already dead, Carter Kane,” he said. “This place was never meant for humans. Don’t you feel it? The power of Chaos is seeping into our bodies, withering our souls. But I have bigger plans. A host can live indefinitely, no matter what sickness he may have, no matter how injured he may be.
Apophis has already healed my voice. Soon I will be whole again. I will live forever!”
“A host…” When I realized what he meant, I almost lost control of my new giant form. “You’re not serious. Menshikov, stop this before it’s too late.”
“And die?” he asked.
Behind me, a new voice said, “There are worse things than death, Vladimir.”
I turned and saw a second boat gliding toward the shore —a small gray skiff with a single magic oar that rowed itself. The eye of Horus was painted on the boat’s prow, and its lone passenger was Michel Desjardins. The Chief Lector’s hair and beard were now white as snow. Glowing hieroglyphs floated from his cream-colored robes, making a trail of divine words behind him.
Desjardins stepped ashore. “You toy with something much worse than death, my old friend. Pray that I kill you before you succeed.”
Of all the weird things I’d experienced that night, Desjardins stepping up to fight on our side was definitely the weirdest.
He walked between my giant hawk warrior and Sadie’s mega-kite like they were no big deal, and planted his staff in the dead scarabs.
“Surrender, Vladimir.”
Menshikov laughed. “Have you looked at yourself lately, my lord? My curses have been sapping your strength for months, and you didn’t even realize it. You’re nearly dead now. I am the most powerful magician in the world.”
It was true that Desjardins didn’t look good. His face was almost as gaunt and wrinkled as the sun god’s. But the cloud of hieroglyphs seemed stronger around him. His eyes blazed with intensity, just as they had months ago in New Mexico, when he’d battled us in the streets of Las Cruces and vowed to destroy us. He took another step forward, and the mob of demons edged away. I suppose they recognized the leopard-skin cape around his shoulders as a mark of power.
“I have failed in many things,” Desjardins admitted. “But I will not fail in this. I will not let you destroy the House of Life.”
“The House?” Menshikov’s voice turned shrill. “It died centuries ago! It should’ve been disbanded when Egypt fell.” He kicked at the dried scarab shells. “The House has as much life as these hollow bug husks. Wake up, Michel! Egypt is gone, meaningless, ancient history. It’s time to destroy the world and start anew. Chaos always wins.”
“Not always.” Desjardins turned to Sadie. “Begin your spell. I will deal with this wretch.”
The ground surged under us, trembling as Apophis tried to rise.
“Think first, children,” Menshikov warned. “The world will end no matter what you do. Mortals can’t leave this cavern alive, but the two of you have been godlings. Combine with Horus and Isis again, pledge to serve Apophis, and you could survive this night. Desjardins has always been your enemy. Slay him for me now and present his body as a gift to Apophis! I will assure you both positions of honor in a new world ruled by Chaos, unrestricted by any rules. I can even give you the secret of curing Walt Stone.”
He smiled at Sadie’s stunned expression. “Yes, my girl. I do know how. The remedy was passed down for generations among the priests of Amun-Ra. Kill Desjardins, join Apophis, and the boy you love will be spared.”
I’ll be honest. His words were persuasive. I could imagine a new world where anything was possible, where no laws applied, not even the laws of physics, and we could be anything we wanted.
Chaos is impatient. It’s random. And above all it’s selfish. It tears down everything just for the sake of change, feeding on itself in constant hunger. But Chaos can also be appealing. It tempts you to believe that nothing matters except what you want. And there was so much that I wanted. Menshikov’s restored voice was smooth and confident, like Amos’s tone whenever he used magic to persuade mortals.
That was the problem. Menshikov’s promise was a trick. His words weren’t even his own. They were being forced out of him. His eyes moved like they were reading a teleprompter. He spoke the will of Apophis, but when he finished he locked eyes with me, and just briefly I saw his real thoughts—a tortured plea he would’ve screamed if he had control of his own mouth: Kill me now. Please.
“I’m sorry, Menshikov,” I said, and I sincerely meant it. “Magicians and gods have to stand together. The world may need fixing, but it’s worth preserving. We won’t let Chaos win.”
Then a lot of things happened at once. Sadie opened her scroll and began to read. Menshikov screamed, “Attack!” and the demons rushed forward. The giant kite spread its wings, deflecting a blast of green fire from Menshikov’s staff that probably would’ve incinerated Sadie on the spot. I charged to protect her, while Desjardins summoned a whirlwind around his body and flew toward Vlad Menshikov.
I waded through demons. I knocked over one with a razor-blade head, grabbed his ankles, and swung him around like a weapon, slicing his allies into piles of sand. Sadie’s giant kite picked up two more in its claws and tossed them into the river.