I’m almost there when hands push me from behind. My own momentum propels me forward, the asphalt at the bottom of the stairs shredding my palms before my head slams into and bounces off the lowest step. Lights explode in my vision and I can’t see past the pain bouncing around my skull.
“Did you think you could get away from me, you stupid, mortal child?” His voice is a tortured nightmare imitation of a person. “I am a god.”
“Only in Egypt,” Ry says, and my vision clears in time to see Anubis look up, his face twisted in rage, just as a fist smashes into his jaw. He reels backward, snarling, then a hissing noise cuts through the night, and my eyes and nose burn.
Anubis’s scream turns into a high-pitched, desperate animal whine as he paws at his eyes, spinning in circles.
“Come on!” Tyler says, pulling me up. My head swims and I trip on the stairs. Ry’s arm is immediately around me, and the three of us run from dry, crackling, salty death, still howling in the canyon behind us.
16
Amun-Re sits at the head of the pantheon of gods. He is without beginning or end, having created himself out of the nothing. He is the god of the sun, the god of creation, so powerful that he is King of the Gods. His names are endless, his titles infinite, but only one name is secret. Only one name allows those who know it to claim a position next to his throne.
Only one name allows those who know it to appeal directly to his power, to use it for themselves. For whatever end.
“YOU SHOULD GO TO THE HOSPITAL,” TYLER says, her voice high and rushed with adrenaline as she bounces against the door of Ry’s truck. I’m smashed in the middle between the two of them.
“I’m fine.” It’s a lie. I am not fine. My head is a symphony of pain, a sadistic master maestro conducting an opus of excruciating, devastating perfection. I can’t remember how we got into the truck, or how long we’ve been driving. Ry’s dashboard is slowly rising and falling like it’s on ocean waves instead of street asphalt.
The bright side is that I barely feel my palms, though in the occasional illumination of the streetlights we pass they look like they had a run-in with a cheese grater. Also I keep seeing other lights that aren’t actually there.
“We should call nine-one-one,” she says.
“Wait, that’s a real number?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought it was a movie number. Like how they always use five-five-five for phone numbers. So that people wouldn’t accidentally use the real number for calling the police.”
Tyler chokes out a laugh. “No, it’s real. And I’m not sure why we haven’t called it yet. We should report that guy!”
“Can’t arrest a god.”
Ry coughs sharply. “You’re confused.”
“Seriously!” Tyler leans forward to try and look at my eyes. I swat her away. “He was going to hurt you! He did hurt you! I really think you have a concussion.”
He was going to do something much worse than hurt me. He is going to do something much worse than hurt me. “Police can’t help. He’s probably already gone. And he is my half brother.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I don’t have my phone and I don’t have any numbers memorized. I have to get home so I can call my mother. Warn her. My stomach turns and threatens to rebel, and it isn’t only because of the pain and nausea I’m swimming in. If Anubis did figure it out—if, all the many gods forbid, he learned the true name of the sun god from that fresco . . . The thought of Anubis with that much power makes me want to vomit. But I’m alive. I can still fix this.
“Thank you, guys. If you hadn’t come . . . well, thank you.”
Tyler has my wrist in her hand. “Isadora, you already said that. Four times. We need to go to the hospital.”
“No! I need to get home and call my parents. How did you know to come help me?”
Her voice is patient, the same tone she uses in the Children’s Discovery Room. “Like I already explained, three times, girl-who-does-not-have-a-concussion, as soon as I realized he was the guy who was asking about you earlier, I knew something was up. I’m so glad my mom made me swear to always carry pepper spray. And that I found Ry.”
Ry, who I threatened to kill earlier tonight, and who still didn’t hesitate to help me when I needed it most. Ry, who is not who he was. Ry, whose betrayal somehow stings far deeper than Anubis’s, and I don’t know why it hurts so much. It shouldn’t hurt so much. But he’s like my parents—building a foundation and then ripping it away, changing the rules.
Oooh, I hate him and I hate this truck and I hate the hills of San Diego and the way they make me want to lean over and throw up in dear Tyler’s lap. I need to be home. Now. I need to warn my mother.
Tyler’s phone rings and she answers it, breathlessly spilling out her version of the story to Scott. When she hangs up, she tells Ry that Scott will pick her up at my house.
“I’m going to stay there tonight,” Ry answers.
“Excuse me?” I hold the side of my head like I can contain the pain if I push hard enough.
“I’m not leaving you alone.”
“First of all, you are not welcome at my house. Second of all, I have a brother and a sister-in-law there.”
“You also have a concussion.” Tyler pulls one of my hands away to try and see my eyes again. She keeps muttering something about pupils. “Also, where the crap did you get this amazing bracelet? Is it real gold?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumble. I want to rip it off, but I can’t figure out how to undo the clasp. Another sneaky, underhanded move by Ry.
I hurt, everything hurts, and I am so hurt that he lied to me. That he always understood me even more than I thought he could, but he didn’t tell me that he understood. I don’t think he’s evil, not now that Anubis revealed himself, but still.
Ry’s the son of gods. It changes everything.
“No, seriously, that’s real gold, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why your crazy half brother was after you! This has to be worth serious money.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Gold is not really a commodity at my house. The name of the sun god, however . . .
Ry pulls to a stop in front of Sirus’s house. Scott’s car is already parked there and Tyler jumps out of the truck and runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck. My stone heart thumps forlornly in my chest as I watch them, and my traitor body longs for the comfort of another person.
I get out of the truck instead, and limp and stagger toward the dark house. This must be what it feels like to be drunk, I think, as the ground bucks and rolls around me.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
I startle, so lost in my pain and my determination to call my mother that I didn’t notice Ry get out after me. “They’re probably in bed.”
“I’ll wait until you know for sure that they’re home and you’ve told Sirus what happened. I’m assuming that was Anubis. What did he really want?”
“It’s a family matter.” My teeth are clenched so hard my jaw aches and I can feel my pulse as a stabbing pain in my forehead. “Go home.”
“Sure you’re okay?” Tyler calls out from the curb. I wave dismissively. “Call me first thing in the morning, then. And I just Googled concussions. Don’t take ibuprofen, take Tylenol.”
Scott opens her door. “And next time you get in a fight, do it when I’m around. I’m good at the punching!”
I’m too tired to respond. I open the door; the entire house is dark. Sirus is a night owl. He should still be up. Maybe something is wrong here, too. Panicked that Anubis got to them, I take a deep breath.
It smells like Tide. I collapse against the doorframe in relief. Anubis hasn’t been here.
Ry steps forward like he’s going to come in with me.
“Please,” I say. It hurts to talk. “Thank you for tonight. Really. You saved my life. But I can’t—I can’t handle you right now. I’m confused, and I don’t know how this changes things, but it does. And until I know how it changes things, I just—I need you to be somewhere else.”
He swallows, then nods. I shut the door behind myself. I want him far away. I want him right here. I don’t know how I want him. But my mother. I need to talk to my mom.
Flipping lights on as I go, I find a note on the table. Sirus’s hasty scrawl is nearly illegible.
Isadora—tried your cell, Deena sick, going to the hospital, call me.
—S
No! I grab the phone and dial Sirus’s cell. It takes me three tries to get the numbers right, then it goes straight to voice mail, so I tell him to please call on this line because my cell is gone. My fluttery, panicked feeling intensifies. I don’t want anything to happen to Deena, or to their baby. They need to be okay. I need them to be okay, and to be a dorky, happy couple and raise a dorky, happy kid.
Please let her be okay.
My mother, fortunately, picks up on the second ring. “Who is this?” She sounds exhausted. I don’t remember the time difference, if it’s the middle of the night there or what.
“It’s Isadora.”
“What happened? Are you okay? You’re hurt!”
My voice catches. “I’m okay. But something bad happened. Anubis was here.”
“What? Why would he be there?”
I relay the story to her—all of it, including the driver who was attacked and the times I felt like I was being watched, and some of the details are out of order because I can’t quite organize my thoughts like I know I should be able to, but eventually I tell her everything. “Mom, I had to read it for him. I’m so sorry. I think—I think he figured out Amun-Re’s real name.” I hold my breath, waiting for her reaction. How bad is it going to be? How much power did I help that jackal-faced monstrosity get?
Then my mother laughs. It’s a tired, worn-out laugh, more air than mirth. “Oh, Little Heart. You don’t need to worry about this.”
“He can control the sun god now!”
“No, he can’t. He may have thought he found something there, but I can assure you that Amun-Re’s true name isn’t recorded anywhere. Surely you don’t think I’d go to all that trouble to get it for myself and Horus and then write it down where any slovenly god of embalming could find it?”
I slump onto a chair, relieved and confused. “Then what did he find? Because he seemed happy.”
“Anubis is a fool, and like all fools will easily believe what he wants to believe. He probably found something in the text he thought was Amun-Re’s true name. He’ll come back and try to use it, and then he’ll be sent scurrying with his tail between his legs. And I assure you that after I have this baby, he will have a serious reckoning to face for threatening you.”
“So you’re safe,” I say, and for the first time since I kissed Ry—oh no I kissed Ry and then he told me the truth, and it’s like I’m remembering it for the first time all over again what is wrong with my brain—the steel bands around my lungs release.
“I am safe. And I’m glad you are, too. How did you get away from Anubis?”
“Some friends helped me out.”
“I’m so glad you made good friends.”
I think of Ry, his parents, the truth. I should tell her who—what—he is. She should know there are other gods out there. But if I told her, I have no doubt I’d never see Ry again.
I should want that.
“I’m glad, too,” I say instead. “Okay. Yay, it isn’t the end of the world.” My hands sting like crazy holding the phone, and I want to sink into the couch and sleepy oblivion. “I’m gonna go take something for my head. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I’ll look forward to it. Oh, and Isadora?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll want to hear all about how the gala went before your bastard half brother showed up.”
“Okay.” I smile. She remembered. “Good night.”
“Good night, Little Heart.”
I hang up, and now that my initial relief is past, I am back to worrying about Deena. After I wash my hands and pick the tiny bits of gravel out of them, I change out of my ruined dress into pajamas and bandage my various scrapes. I can’t get the stupid bracelet off. I’ll make Ry take it off me tomorrow.
There’s some p.m. painkiller combo in the cupboard—did Tyler say ibuprofen was bad or good? I can’t remember. I don’t care. The phone rings, and I stare at it for a few seconds before realizing I have to answer.
“What?”
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Sirus! What’s going on? What happened to Deena? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
“They’re both okay. Sorry if the note scared you. It was kind of a scary night.” He laughs drily, and I couldn’t agree more, though this is definitely not the time to tell him about my mini family reunion. “After we left the museum Deena was really dizzy and her stomach hurt. We went straight to the hospital, and she’s fine now, on bed rest until they decide whether she needs to deliver the baby sooner rather than later.”
“But she’s not due yet!”
“She’s far enough along that it might be safer for both of them to get him here.” He swears softly. “Oh, thank goodness, she’s asleep. She didn’t hear me call him a him. Anyway. It’s something called preeclampsia, and since we know it’s an issue one way or another, we’ll deal with it and keep both of them perfectly healthy. But we aren’t going to be home for a while, probably. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”