Rick Riordan - The Red Pyramid

After so many days spent running for our lives, it felt good to just sit at a dinner table and relax. The captain’s informing us that he couldn’t transport us instantly to the Land of the Dead was the best news I’d had in a long time.

“Agh!” Khufu wiped his mouth and grabbed one of the balls of fire. He fashioned it into a glowing basketball and snorted at me.

For once I was pretty sure what he’d said in Baboon. It wasn’t an invitation. It meant something like: “I’m going to play basketball by myself now. I will not invite you because your lack of skill would make me throw up.”

“No problem, man,” I said, though my face felt hot with embarrassment. “Have fun.”

Khufu snorted again, then loped off with the ball under his arm. I wondered if he’d find a court somewhere on board.

At the far end of the table, Bast pushed her plate away. She’d hardly touched her tuna Friskies.

“Not hungry?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh…I suppose not.” She turned her goblet listlessly. She was wearing an expression I didn’t associate with cats: guilt.

Sadie and I locked eyes. We had a brief, silent exchange, something like:

You ask her.

No, you.

Of course Sadie’s better at giving dirty looks, so I lost the contest.

“Bast?” I said. “What did the captain want you to tell us?”

She hesitated. “Oh, that? You shouldn’t listen to demons. Bloodstained Blade is bound by magic to serve, but if he ever got loose, he’d use that axe on all of us, believe me.”

“You’re changing the subject,” I said.

Bast traced her finger across the table, drawing hieroglyphs in the condensation ring from her goblet. “The truth? I haven’t been on board since the night your mother died. Your parents had docked this boat on the Thames. After the…accident, your father brought me here. This is where we made our deal.”

I realized she meant right here, at this table. My father had sat here in despair after Mom’s death-with no one to console him except the cat goddess, an axe demon, and a bunch of floating lights.

I studied Bast’s face in the dim light. I thought about the painting we’d found at Graceland. Even in human form, Bast looked so much like that cat-a cat drawn by some artist thousands of years ago.

“It wasn’t just a chaos monster, was it?” I asked.

Bast eyed me. “What do you mean?”

“The thing you were fighting when our parents released you from the obelisk. It wasn’t just a chaos monster. You were fighting Apophis.”

All around the parlor, the servant fires dimmed. One dropped a plate and fluttered nervously.

“Don’t say the Serpent’s name,” Bast warned. “Especially as we head into the night. Night is his realm.”

“It’s true, then.” Sadie shook her head in dismay. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you lie to us?”

Bast dropped her gaze. Sitting in the shadows, she looked weary and frail. Her face was etched with the traces of old battle scars.

“I was the Eye of Ra.” She spoke quietly. “The sun god’s champion, the instrument of his will. Do you have any idea what an honor it was?”

She extended her claws and studied them. “When people see pictures of Ra’s warrior cat, they assume it’s Sekhmet, the lioness. And she was his first champion, it’s true. But she was too violent, too out of control. Eventually Sekhmet was forced to step down, and Ra chose me as his fighter: little Bast.”

“Why do you sound ashamed?” Sadie asked. “You said it’s an honor.”

“At first I was proud, Sadie. I fought the Serpent for ages. Cats and snakes are mortal enemies. I did my job well. But then Ra withdrew to the heavens. He bound me to the Serpent with his last spell. He cast us both into that abyss, where I was charged to fight the Serpent and keep it down forever.”

A realization crept over me. “So you weren’t a minor prisoner. You were imprisoned longer than any of the other gods.”

She closed her eyes. “I still remember Ra’s words: ‘My loyal cat. This is your greatest duty.’ And I was proud to do it…for centuries. Then millennia. Can you imagine what it was like? Knives against fangs, slashing and thrashing, a never-ending war in the darkness. Our life forces grew weaker, my enemy’s and mine, and I began to realize that was Ra’s plan. The Serpent and I would rip each other to nothingness, and the world would be safe. Only in this way could Ra withdraw in peace of mind, knowing chaos would not overcome Ma’at. I would have done my duty, too. I had no choice. Until your parents-”

“Gave you an escape route,” I said. “And you took it.”

Bast looked up miserably. “I am the queen of cats. I have many strengths. But to be honest, Carter…cats are not very brave.”

“And Ap-your enemy?”

“He stayed trapped in the abyss. Your father and I were sure of it. The Serpent was already greatly weakened from eons of fighting with me, and when your mother used her own life force to close the abyss, well…she worked a powerful feat of magic. There should’ve been no way for the Serpent to break through that kind of seal. But as the years have gone by…we became less and less sure the prison would hold him. If somehow he managed to escape and regain his strength, I cannot imagine what would happen. And it would be my fault.”

I tried to imagine the serpent, Apophis-a creature of chaos even worse than Set. I pictured Bast with her knives, locked in combat with that monster for eons. Maybe I should’ve been angry at Bast for not telling us the truth earlier. Instead, I felt sorry for her. She’d been put in the same position we were now in-forced to do a job that was way too big for her.

“So why did my parents release you?” I asked. “Did they say?”

She nodded slowly. “I was losing my fight. Your father told me that your mother had foreseen…horrible things if the Serpent overcame me. They had to free me, give me time to heal. They said it was the first step in restoring the gods. I don’t pretend to understand their whole plan. I was relieved to take your father’s offer. I convinced myself I was doing the right thing for the gods. But it does not change the fact that I was a coward. I failed in my duty.”

“It isn’t your fault,” I told her. “It wasn’t fair of Ra to ask of you.”

“Carter’s right,” Sadie said. “That’s too much sacrifice for one person-one cat goddess, whatever.”

“It was my king’s will,” Bast said. “The pharaoh can command his subjects for the good of the kingdom-even to lay down their lives-and they must obey. Horus knows this. He was the pharaoh many times.”

She speaks truly, Horus said.

“Then you had a stupid king,” I said.

The boat shuddered as if we’d ground the keel over a sandbar.

“Be careful, Carter,” Bast warned. “Ma’at, the order of creation, hinges on loyalty to the rightful king. If you question it, you’ll fall under the influence of chaos.”

I felt so frustrated, I wanted to break something. I wanted to yell that order didn’t seem much better than chaos if you had to get yourself killed for it.

You are being childish, Horus scolded. You are a servant of Ma’at. These thoughts are unworthy.

My eyes stung. “Then maybe I’m unworthy.”

“Carter?” Sadie asked.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m going to bed.”

I stormed off. One of the flickering lights joined me, guiding me upstairs to my quarters. The stateroom was probably very nice. I didn’t pay attention. I just fell on the bed and passed out.

I seriously needed an extra-strength magic pillow, because my ba refused to stay put. [And no, Sadie, I don’t think wrapping my head in duct tape would’ve worked either.]