Who Is She? | Jaz Anderson

• nineteen •

The good news: Amos wasn't entirely alone.

The bad news: his backup was the god of evil.

As they poured into the Hall of Ages, their rescue attempt sputtered to a stop. They hadn't expected to see a deadly aerial ballet with lightning and knives. The normal floating hieroglyphs that filled the room were gone. The holographic curtains on either side of the hall flickered weakly. Some had collapsed altogether.

As Ayden had suspected, an assault team of enemy magicians had locked themselves in there with Amos, but it looked like they were regretting their choice.

Hovering midair in the center of the hall, Amos was cloaked in the strangest avatar Ayden had ever seen. A vaguely human form swirled around him — part sandstorm, part fire. The giant red warrior laughed as he fought, spinning a ten-meter black iron staff with careless force. Suspended in his chest, Amos copied the giant's moves, his face beaded with sweat.

Ayden couldn't tell if Amos was directing Set or trying to restrain him. Possibly both. Most likely both.

Enemy magicians flew circles around him. Kwai was easy to spot, with his bald head and blue robes, darting through the air like one of those martial arts monks who could defy gravity. He shot bolts of red lightning at the Set avatar, but they didn't seem to have much effect.

With her spiky black hair and flowing white robes, Sarah Jacobi looked like the Schizophrenic Witch of the West, especially as she was surfing about on a storm cloud like a flying carpet. She held two black knives like barbershop razors, which she threw over and over in a horrific juggling act, launching them into the Set avatar, then catching them as they returned to her hands. Ayden had seen knives like that before — netjeri blades made from meteoric iron. They were mostly used in funeral ceremonies, but they seemed to work quite well as weapons.

With every strike, they disrupted the avatar's sandy flesh a little more, slowly wearing it down. As Ayden watched her throw her knives, anger clenched inside her like a fist. Some instinct told get that Jacobi had stuck Leonid with those knives before leaving him to die. She'd heard his shouts get cut off and had wanted to help him, but she was trapped.

The other rebels weren't quite as successful with their attacks, but they were certainly persistent. Some blasted Set with gusts of wind or water. Others launched shabti creatures, like giant scorpions and griffins. One older man was pelting Amos with bits of cheese. Honestly, Ayden wouldn't have chosen a cheese elementalist for her elite attack squad, but maybe Jacobi got hungry during her battles.

Set seemed to be enjoying himself. The giant red warrior slammed his iron staff into Kwai's chest and sent him spiral. ing through the air. He kicked another magician into the holographic curtains of the Roman Age, and the poor man collapsed with smoke coming out his ears, his mind probably overloaded with visions of toga parties.

Set thrust his free hand toward the Cheese Master. The fat magician was swallowed in a sandstorm and began to scream, but just as quickly, Set retracted his hand. The storm died.

The magician dropped to the floor like a rag doll, unconscious but still alive.

"Bah!" the red warrior bellowed. "Come on, Amos, let me have some fun. I only wanted to strip the flesh from his bones!"

Amos's face was tight with concentration. Clearly he was doing his best to control the god, but Set had many other enemies to play with.

"Pull!" The red god shot lightning at a stone sphinx and blasted it to dust. He laughed insanely and swatted his staff at Sarah Jacobi. "This is fun, little magicians! Don't you have any more tricks?"