9. We Run from Four Guys in Skirts
SO, YEAH. OUR CAT WAS A GODDESS.
What else is new?
She didn’t give us much time to talk about it. She ordered me to the library to grab my dad’s magic kit, and when I came back she was arguing with Sadie about Khufu and Philip.
“We have to search for them!” Sadie insisted.
“They’ll be fine,” said Bast. “However, we will not be, unless we leave now.”
I raised my hand. “Um, excuse me, Miss Goddess Lady? Amos told us the house was-”
“Safe?” Bast snorted. “Carter, the defenses were too easily breached. Someone sabotaged them.”
“What do you mean? Who-”
“Only a magician of the House could’ve done it.”
“Another magician?” I asked. “Why would another magician want to sabotage Amos’s house?”
“Oh, Carter,” Bast sighed. “So young, so innocent. Magicians are devious creatures. Could be a million reasons why one would backstab another, but we don’t have time to discuss it. Now, come on!”
She grabbed our arms and led us out the front door. She’d sheathed her knives, but she still had some wicked sharp claws for fingernails that hurt as they dug into my skin. As soon as we stepped outside, the cold wind stung my eyes. We climbed down a long flight of metal stairs into the industrial yard that surrounded the factory.
Dad’s workbag was heavy on my shoulder. The curved sword I’d strapped across my back felt cold against my thin linen clothes. I’d started to sweat during the serpopard attack, and now my perspiration felt like it was turning to ice.
I looked around for more monsters, but the yard seemed abandoned. Old construction equipment lay in rusting heaps-a bulldozer, a crane with a wrecking ball, a couple of cement mixers. Piles of sheet metal and stacks of crates made a maze of obstacles between the house and the street a few hundred yards away.
We were about halfway across the yard when an old gray tomcat stepped in our path. One of his ears was torn. His left eye was swollen shut. Judging from his scars, he’d spent most of his life fighting.
Bast crouched and stared at the cat. He looked up at her calmly.
“Thank you,” Bast said.
The old tomcat trotted off toward the river.
“What was that about?” Sadie asked.
“One of my subjects, offering help. He’ll spread the news about our predicament. Soon every cat in New York will be on alert.”
“He was so battered,” Sadie said. “If he’s your subject, couldn’t you heal him?”
“And take away his marks of honor? A cat’s battle scars are part of his identity. I couldn’t-” Suddenly Bast tensed. She dragged us behind a stack of crates.
“What is it?” I whispered.
She flexed her wrists and her knives slid into her hands. She peeped over the top of the crates, every muscle in her body trembling. I tried to see what she was looking at, but there was nothing except the old wrecking-ball crane.
Bast’s mouth twitched with excitement. Her eyes were fixed on the huge metal ball. I’d seen kittens look like that when they stalked catnip toy mice, or pieces of string, or rubber balls…Balls? No. Bast was an ancient goddess. Surely she wouldn’t-
“This could be it.” She shifted her weight. “Stay very very still.”
“There’s no one there,” Sadie hissed.
I started to say, “Um…”
Bast lunged over the crates. She flew thirty feet through the air, knives flashing, and landed on the wrecking ball with such force that she broke the chain. The cat goddess and the huge metal sphere smashed into the dirt and went rolling across the yard.
“Rowww!” Bast wailed. The wrecking ball rolled straight over her, but she didn’t appear hurt. She leaped off and pounced again. Her knives sliced through the metal like wet clay. Within seconds, the wrecking ball was reduced to a mound of scraps.
Bast sheathed her blades. “Safe now!”
Sadie and I looked at each other.
“You saved us from a metal ball,” Sadie said.
“You never know,” Bast said. “It could’ve been hostile.”
Just then a deep boom! shook the ground. I looked back at the mansion. Tendrils of blue fire curled from the top windows.
“Come on,” Bast said. “Our time is up!”
I thought maybe she’d whisk us off by magic, or at least hail a taxi. Instead, Bast borrowed a silver Lexus convertible.
“Oh, yes,” she purred. “I like this one! Come along, children.”
“But this isn’t yours,” I pointed out.
“My dear, I’m a cat. Everything I see is mine.” She touched the ignition and the keyhole sparked. The engine began to purr. [No, Sadie. Not like a cat, like an engine.]
“Bast,” I said, “you can’t just-”
Sadie elbowed me. “We’ll work out how to return it later, Carter. Right now we’ve got an emergency.”
She pointed back toward the mansion. Blue flames and smoke now billowed from every window. But that wasn’t the scary part-coming down the stairs were four men carrying a large box, like an oversize coffin with long handles sticking out at both ends. The box was covered with a black shroud and looked big enough for at least two bodies. The four men wore only kilts and sandals. Their coppery skin glinted in the sun as if made of metal.
“Oh, that’s bad,” Bast said. “In the car, please.”
I decided not to ask questions. Sadie beat me to the shotgun seat so I climbed in back. The four metallic guys with the box were racing across the yard, coming straight for us at an unbelievable speed. Before I even had my seat belt on, Bast hit the gas.
We tore through the streets of Brooklyn, weaving insanely through traffic, riding over sidewalks, narrowly missing pedestrians.
Bast drove with reflexes that were…well, catlike. Any human trying to drive so fast would’ve had a dozen wrecks, but she got us safely onto the Williamsburg Bridge.
I thought for sure we must’ve lost our pursuers, but when I looked back, the four copper men with the black box were weaving in and out of traffic. They appeared to be jogging at a normal pace, but they passed cars that were doing fifty. Their bodies blurred like choppy images in an old movie, as if they were out of sync with the regular stream of time.
“What are they?” I asked. “Shabti?”
“No, carriers.” Bast glanced in the rearview mirror. “Summoned straight from the Duat. They’ll stop at nothing to find their victims, throw them in the sedan-”
“The what?” Sadie interrupted.
“The large box,” Bast said. “It’s a kind of carriage. The carriers capture you, beat you senseless, throw you in, and carry you back to their master. They never lose their prey, and they never give up.”
“But what do they want us for?”
“Trust me,” Bast growled, “you don’t want to know.”
I thought about the fiery man last night in Phoenix-how he’d fried one of his servants into a grease spot. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to meet him face-to-face again.
“Bast,” I said, “if you’re a goddess, can’t you just snap your fingers and disintegrate those guys? Or wave your hand and teleport us away?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice? But my power in this host is limited.”
“You mean Muffin?” Sadie asked. “But you’re not a cat anymore.”
“She’s still my host, Sadie, my anchor on this side of the Duat-and a very imperfect one. Your call for help allowed me to assume human shape, but that alone takes a great deal of power. Besides, even when I’m in a powerful host, Set’s magic is stronger than mine.”
“Could you please say something I actually understand?” I pleaded.
“Carter, we don’t have time for a full discussion on gods and hosts and the limits of magic! We have to get you to safety.”
Bast floored the accelerator and shot up the middle of the bridge. The four carriers with the sedan raced after us, blurring the air as they moved, but no cars swerved to avoid them. No one panicked or even looked at them.