Eye of Hecate

Sadie

Well, that's all very impressive, I suppose. You should see Carter's face as he looks at Zia—he looks like an excited puppy. 

But I feel much less sure of Miss Zia "I'm-So-Magical" Rashid and Miss Ozzy "Surprise-I'm-Your-Sister" Kane when the army of scorpions scuttles towards us. I wouldn't have thought it possible so many scorpions existed in the world, much less in Manhattan. The glowing circle around us seems like insignificant protection against the millions of arachnids crawling over one another, many layers deep, and the woman in brown, who's even more horrible.

From a distance she looks all right, but as she gets closer I see that Serqet's pale skin glistens like an insect shell. Her eyes are beady black. Her long, dark hair is unnaturally thick, as if made from a million bristling bug antennae. And when she opens her mouth, sideways mandibles snap and retract outside her regular human teeth.

The goddess stops about twenty meters away, studying us. Her hateful black eyes fix on Zia and Ozzy. "Give me the younglings."

Her voice is harsh and raspy, as if she hasn't spoken in centuries.

Zia crosses her staff and wand. "I am a mistress of the elements, Scribe of the First Nome. Leave or be destroyed."

Ozzy mimics her stance. "I am a speaker of the divine words, mistress of the elements, Scribe of the Twenty-First Nome, Blood of Pharaohs, and daughter of Hecate. You will leave."

Zia shoots her a look and rolls her eyes. Ozzy sticks her tongue out in response. 

Serqet clicks her mandibles in a gruesome foamy grin. Some of her scorpions advance, but when the first one touches the glowing lines of our protective circle, it sizzles and turns to ashes. Mark my words, nothing smells worse than burned scorpion.

The rest of the horrible things retreat, swirling round the goddess and crawling up her legs. With a shudder, I realize they're wriggling into her robes. After a few seconds, all the scorpions have disappeared into the brown folds of her clothes.

The air seems to darken behind Serqet, as if she's casting an enormous shadow. Then the darkness rises up and takes the form of a massive scorpion tail, arcing over Serqet's head. It lashes down at us at blazing speed, but Zia raises her wand and the sting glances off the ivory tip with a hissing sound. Steam rolls off Zia's wand, smelling of sulfur.

Ozzy points her staff towards the goddess, engulfing her body in fire. Serqet screams and staggers backwards, but the fire dies almost instantly. It leaves Serqet's robes seared and smoking, but the goddess looks more enraged than hurt.

"Your days are past, magicians. The House is weak. Lord Set will lay waste to this land."

Ozzy throws her wand like a boomerang. It smashes into the shadowy scorpion tail and explodes in a blinding flash of light. Serqet lurches back and averts her eyes, and as she does, Zia reaches into her sleeve and brings out something small—something closed inside her fist.

The girls are working together. Ozzy's wand was a diversion. A magician's sleight of hand.

Then Zia does something reckless: she leaps out of the magic circle—the very thing she warned us not to do. Ozzy follows behind her, muttering into her staff.

"Zia! Ozzy!" Carter calls. "The gate!"

I glance behind me, and my heart almost stops. The space between the two columns at the temple's entrance is now a vertical tunnel of sand, as if I'm looking into the funnel of an enormous sideways hourglass. I can feel it tugging at me, pulling me towards it with magical gravity.

"I'm not going in there," I insist, but another flash of light brings my attention back to Zia and Ozzy.

Zia is circling the goddess, mumbling into whatever is clutched in her palm. Meanwhile, my new sister is keeping the goddess distracted.

Ozzy and the goddess are involved in a dangerous dance. Ozzy twirls and spins with her fiery staff, and everywhere she passes, she leaves a trail of flames burning in the air. I have to admit it: Ozzy is almost as graceful and impressive as Bast.

I have the oddest desire to help. I want—very badly, in fact—to step outside the circle and engage in combat. It's a completely mad urge, of course. What could I possibly do? But still I feel I shouldn't—or can't—jump through the gate without helping.

"Sadie!" Carter grabs me and pulls me back. Without my even realizing it, my foot almost stepped across the line of chalk. "What are you thinking?"

I don't have an answer, but I stare at Zia and mumble in a sort of trance, "She's going to use ribbons. They won't work."

"What?" Carter demands. "Come on, we've got to go through the gate!"

Just then Zia opens her fist and small red tendrils of cloth flutter into the air. Ribbons. How did I know? They zip about like living things—like eels in water—and begin to grow larger.

Serqet is still concentrating on the fire, trying to keep Ozzy from caging her. At first she doesn't seem to notice the ribbons, which grow until they're several meters long. I count five, six, seven of them in all. They zip around, orbiting Serqet, ripping through her shadow scorpion as if it's a harmless illusion. Finally they wrap around Serqet's body, pinning her arms and legs. She screams as if the ribbons burn her. She drops to her knees, and the shadow scorpion disintegrates into an inky haze.

Ozzy spins to a stop. She points her staff at the goddess's face, and Zia does the same. The ribbons begin to glow, and the goddess hisses in pain, cursing in a language I don't know.

"I bind you with the Seven Ribbons of Hathor," Zia says. "Release your host or your essence will burn forever."

"Your death will last forever!" Serqet snarls. "You have made an enemy of Set!"

Zia twists her staff, and Serqet falls sideways, writhing and smoking."I will...not..." the goddess hisses. But then her black eyes turn milky white, and she lays still.

"The gate!" Carter warns. "Guys, come on! I think it's closing!"

He's right. The tunnel of sand seems to be moving a bit more slowly. The tug of its magic doesn't feel as strong.

Ozzy approaches the fallen goddess. She touches Serqet's forehead, and black smoke billows from the goddess's mouth. Serqet transforms and shrinks until we're looking at a completely different woman wrapped in red ribbons. She has pale skin and black hair, but otherwise she doesn't look anything like Serqet. She looks, well, human.

"Who is that?" I ask.

"The host," Zia says. "Some poor mortal who—"

She looks up with a start. The black haze is no longer dissipating. It's getting thicker and darker again, swirling into a more solid form.

Ozzy takes a nervous step back. "Zia."

"Impossible," Zia says. "The ribbons are too powerful. Serqet can't re-form unless—"

"Well, she is re-forming," Carter yells, "and our exit is closing! Let's go!"

I can't believe he's willing to jump into a churning wall of sand, but as I watch the black cloud take the shape of a two-story-tall scorpion—a very angry scorpion—I make my decision.

"Coming!" I yell.

"Ozzy! Zia!" Carter yells. "Now!"

"Good idea," Ozzy says, beginning to step backwards towards us, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the black cloud.

"Perhaps you're right," Zia decides. She turns, grabs Ozzy's arm, and together we run and plunge straight into the swirling vortex.