It was difficult to say who was more astounded—Isra, or the crowd on the sidewalks—as the rental convertible slowly cruised down the Strip. Fragments of excited conversation from the onlookers came to them:
"Holy crap, look at the size of that lion!"
"Is it real?"
"Of course it's real! Whaddya think this is, Disneyland or something?"
"It's too big to be real! And it's glowing!"
"Is it dangerous?"
"It's probably a publicity stunt."
"That blond guy driving must be Siegfried."
"Nah. He has tigers."
"And look! There's Ralph! Looking good, Ralph!"
"I had no idea he was so young."
"Wave to the camera, Ralph!"
Bugsy waved enthusiastically, while the big German remained dignified as he drove sedately to the Luxor, muttering, "I am not Siegfried. I am Lohengrin."
Fortune could feel Isra's growing excitement as they pulled into the Luxor's parking lot, passing a giant sphinx, a serene reflecting pool, and rows of obelisks. They stopped in front of the main entrance to the hotel, but none of the valets dared approach. Sekhmet was snorting fire in her excitement, much to the excited approval of the crowd that had gathered to gawk.
The show was only starting. The lioness leaped out of the back of the convertible and padded lightly, eagerly, back and forth, very much as if it was feeding time at the zoo. Easy,> Fortune said, desperately hoping for some kind of help to arrive.
It soon did. Half a dozen of the Living Gods filed out of the main entrance to the hotel casino, accompanied by a retinue of fan-bearers, jugglers, acrobats, and other retainers. Led by the beautiful Isis, attended by fan-bearers holding ostrich feathers over her head, by a fat-bellied dwarf whose name Fortune didn't know, by jokers with the heads of a dog and a hawk. Bringing up the rear, accompanied by their own servants, were two old familiar figures—Thoth, the ibis-headed spokesman of the Living Gods, and ancient Osiris, he who had perished and then come back to life, supposedly. As usual, a cryptic smile wreathed his tight-lipped mouth.
Isis—beautiful, voluptuous, and wearing a gown that was more diaphanous than modest—was receiving most of the attention from the gathered onlookers. Especially when she bowed low gracefully and said, "Hail, Lady Sekhmet! Your coming was foretold by far-seeing Osiris! Long have we awaited your arrival! Enter our abode!"
The onlookers burst into applause as the lioness returned Isis's bow, as elegantly as four legs would allow her, and followed the colorful procession into the Luxor's lobby. Bugsy and Lohengrin, exchanging glances, took up the rear. They were a traffic-stopper as they paced slowly, ceremoniously through the cavernous atrium and halted before the elevators. Not only was Isra reluctant to enter them, it seemed that she was too big to get into one even if she'd wanted to. You have to give me back control,> Fortune urged.
Isra snarled and some of the onlooking tourists glanced about nervously.
Come on,> Fortune said. You'll never fit into one of these cages.>
Perhaps the word "cages" did it, or maybe just the mere thought of confinement again. Whatever made Isra relinquish control, there was an unexpected, instantaneous transfiguration, and Fortune found himself standing naked in front of the elevator banks.
Fortunately, the fan-bearers acted with instantaneous aplomb and covered him—almost entirely—before the cameras in the hands of onlooking tourists could go off. All the important figures piled into the elevator, leaving their retinue to entertain the assembled crowd and deliver a spiel about the Pageant of the Living Gods, six days a week, with matinees on Wednesdays and Saturdays.
It was a tight fit inside the elevator, but with John Fortune back as John Fortune and not a monstrous lioness, they made it. Osiris punched the button and they scooted upward to the private penthouse of the Living Gods in the heart of the Luxor pyramid.
"We must have something around here that would fit you," Isis said, as they entered the living area of a spacious suite. She rattled off some sentences in Arabic to the dog-faced god, who looked to be about Fortune's size. "Go with Anubis. He can lend some clothes that should fit. When you return, we'll have refreshments."
"And answers for my questions?" Fortune asked.
Isis smiled. "Of course."
Feeling like an idiot, Fortune borrowed the ostrich-feather fans from their bearers and followed Anubis, who seemed friendly enough (if John could accurately read his grinning canine features) but had little English. Fortune was glad to score jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers.
By the time he returned, drinks and snacks had been laid out. Bugsy and Lohengrin were conspicuous by their absence. Only three senior members of the group—Thoth, Osiris, and Isis—were awaiting him.
"Don't worry about your friends." Thoth hadn't changed since the last time John had seen him. His features were birdlike, with a long, sharp beak that gave his words an odd clacking cadence. "We have set them up in their own suite where they can refresh themselves and relax. Much of what we have to say here should stay among family."
"I'm flattered that you think of me in those terms." Fortune balanced a plate of pastries dripping with honey in one hand and a tiny cup of coffee loaded to the top with sugar in the other. "I've done nothing to deserve it."
Osiris, who had little English, spoke a rapid stream of Arabic. Like Thoth, he was also little changed since Fortune's last trip to Vegas. He was brown-skinned and thin, lean to the point of emaciation, with a bald head, dark chin beard, and dark, vibrant eyes. He looked like an antediluvian rock star who ate too little and spent way too much time in the sun. Thoth translated his words into precise English, unaccented but for his strange lisp. "We need Sekhmet now more than we ever have. She was meant to be the greatest among our people, our champion and shield against those who would destroy us—but, as you well know, things do not always work out as they should."
Isis took up the story. "Isra was born in Alexandria, of a family who had for generations worked the docks. The gods certainly work in mysterious ways. Yes, they gave her great powers. But her body, ill-nourished, worn out by childbirth and a life of hard work, could not contain the tremendous energies needed to fuel them. She was forced to . . . to change, in yet another way. To shrivel onto herself, to go into a deep sleep—until one would come whose body could be her vessel."
"You." Thoth nodded his head like a bird pecking for bugs. "You, who should have been an ace, you whose heritage was stripped from you. We beg you, please, to let Sekhmet live through you."
Fortune swallowed a honeyed date, choking. "As a parasite in my body?"
Thoth shrugged. "Surely, more of a symbiote. She does nothing to harm you."
"But I don't want her inside me, controlling me. Why can't she share your body? Or yours, or his?"
Isis looked sad. "If we could, we would serve her. But we lack your strength."
Osiris nodded vigorously as Thoth translated his words again. "Surely," Osiris said, "you have seen the news out of Egypt."
"Some," Fortune said. "I've been busy."
"Of course," Osiris continued. "The whole world has been busy while hundreds of our people have been killed. And without Sekhmet to protect them, it will only get worse. Hundreds of thousands of innocents—men, women, and children—all will die. The Living Gods themselves will pass from this world, starting a new dark age that will cast its shadow across the globe. Sekhmet must return to Egypt."
"Why can't she return in your head?" Fortune snapped. "I have my own life—a job. Friends. I'm supposed to go back to college in the fall."