Ren rushed over to help, but as she did, there was a muffled crash — like thunder heard from under a blanket — and rock exploded outward from the Walker. Limestone dust turned the entire pit white, and here and there Ren felt the sting of larger chunks against her skin.
She heard Alex cry out but could see nothing. Her eyes stung from the powdered stone, and when she tried to call Alex’s name, thick white dust filled her mouth. She convulsed into hacking coughs and covered her face.
As the heavy dust settled to the ground, she risked a peek back. The Walker’s true form was revealed. It looked like death itself: a ragged mummy — or most of it, anyway. The wrapping was mostly torn away, and some pieces of the body were missing. A few of the fingers were just gone, but the larger gaps had been filled in with clay and pale stone. Half its skull was clay, much of its torso was stone, and none of it quite fit or matched. For eyes, it had two white stones.
And yet it moved. And yet, somehow, it lived. It took a step forward and drew in a long, rasping breath. In the warm desert air of the pit, Ren went cold to the tips of her toes. As the Walker’s chest expanded, a few remaining sections of rib rose beneath the shabby wrapping. Even the limestone that made up the rest of its chest seemed to flex and breathe.
Ren, on the other hand, felt as if a horse was sitting on her chest. Fear constricted her breathing. The other Walkers had looked scary, sure, but they’d also looked alive. They’d come back, and they had the skin and clothing to prove it — even if that skin was sometimes burned or swollen.
Todtman spoke softly, his voice colored by both awe and fear: “This Death Walker is older than the others, beyond ancient. Made when the mummification process was still crude. And whatever he was buried in must have given out. This one’s been in the ground. Its body has calcified.”
Ren eyed the vein of living limestone in its chest — stone meeting bone — and felt the same sense of unreality she always did when confronted with the brazen illogic of magic. It felt like floating free from the world she knew, with nothing to grab on to, nothing to stop her from floating away so far that she’d never find her way back.
And as the creature took another step forward and Ren took another step back, she realized that it might be true this time. She might never get back to the world she knew: home.
Here, at the end, the homesickness that had grown inside her since she left New York became a razor-sharp ache. She’d never sit in the Met again, staring at her beloved Rembrandts and knowing her dad was somewhere nearby. Knowing that she could go ask him for ice cream money or just hang out and watch him work. She realized she’d never have another “girls’ day” with her mom, going to Serendipity and getting “drippity” sundaes.
“Marr fesst dol!” croaked the Walker, snapping Ren back to the overheated reality of the pit. Like the others, Ren already had her hand around her amulet. Normally, that allowed them to understand the ancient Egyptian of their adversaries. Not now.
“Can you understand it?” she asked.
“A lost tongue,” said Todtman.
Ren peered into the creature’s open mouth as it spat out more inscrutable syllables and saw that its real tongue was lost, too, replaced by a thick slab of clay. The thing flicked and curled with the liveliness of a fat brown toad. Ren wanted to vomit.
The Walker took another step forward; the friends took another step back — only to find their backs were nearly to the wall. Soon they would find out what terrible, deadly power this Walker possessed. Unless … Her mind flashed back to midnight in Vienna. If that shadow creature had been out of place in this world, well, then this earthenware weirdo definitely was.
“Stand back!” she said to her friends. “Cover your eyes!”
She squeezed the ibis tight in her left hand and called on its power once more. She thrust out her right hand. There was a quick white flash and then … nothing. What had seemed so mighty at night amounted to little more than a camera flash in the daylight flooding the pit. The Walker flinched slightly.
And then it attacked.
The Walker rushed forward, its stone-patched legs moving with surprising fluidity. “Split up!” called Ren.
Alex turned to run — and couldn’t! He stared down, incredulous. The floor of the pit was solid stone, but he felt his feet sinking down into it as if it were mud. He watched in terror as the stone reached the laces of his boots. He could hear the creature’s footsteps heading toward him, and he tried desperately to lift first one leg and then the other. Nothing. He could only squirm as his feet sank farther.
He saw Ren struggling, too. Her head and shoulders turned to rush along the wall, but her lower half refused to follow.
Only Todtman had managed to stay a step ahead. A vine of stone rose up and grabbed the heel of one of his black dress shoes, but with one hand on his amulet, he swept the other downward, shattering the stone shackle.
Alex followed his example, squeezing the scarab hard and then forming his other hand into a fist and smashing it down directly over each foot in a quick one-two. He felt like he’d just dropped a bowling ball on each foot, but he heard two muffled cracks and quickly pulled his feet up through the powdered stone.
He turned and saw that the Walker was just a few yards from Ren now, already stretching out one bony three-fingered hand. Stuck in the floor, all she could do was stare at the approaching horror with eyes gone round with fear.
“No,” Alex breathed. He felt a sudden, achingly sharp sense of responsibility for his friend’s safety. She had followed him halfway around the world, through one peril after another, and he could not let anything happen to her now. He rushed toward both of them.
“Hey, stone-face,” he shouted desperately at the creature. It turned and regarded this new threat with pale eyes. Alex battled back his fear and squeezed his amulet hard, but before he could use it, a slab of stone shot out from the back wall of the pit, like a dresser drawer opening outward. It cracked Alex hard in the side and slammed him to the ground.
He landed with a loud “Ooouff!”
He rolled over and scrambled to his feet. The stone grabbed at him the whole time, but by moving fast, he was able to stay out of its rough grip —
The Walker’s shadow fell over him.
Alex stumbled back and to the side to create some space. Left hand on his amulet, Alex pointed the fingers of his right hand into a spear and lashed out at the Walker with a whipping, whistling column of super-charged wind. If this creature is really of the earth, thought Alex, let’s see how it handles some erosion!
Bits of clay and chunks of stone chipped and slipped off. Another finger sheared off the Walker’s right hand and went flying end over end out of sight. The ancient menace roared into the unrelenting gale and stumbled backward a few steps. Alex narrowed his eyes, tightened his fingers, and stretched his arm out farther. His head pounding, his body aching from the force channeled through it, he willed the wind to increase.
He stared directly into the two white stones pressed into the clay-patched front of the Walker’s skull and saw the evil there. What he did not see, until it was too late, was the creature raising a now two-fingered hand, palm down, and slamming it hard toward the ground.
The pit floor pulsed like the skin of a bongo drum. The force was so strong Alex could feel it in his teeth, and he found himself tossed two feet into the air. He crashed down on his back and smacked the tender bump on the back of his head. Looking up, he saw stars spiraling in the blue sky above.
A moment later, his head cleared.
It was a moment too long. He desperately tried to sit up, to take hold of his amulet again — but he was pulling against stone. The pit floor had already encircled him with its tendrils, and now he felt himself sinking back into it. Legs, arms, pinned.
He was helpless.
Todtman, however, was still free and using his amulet to fight back. A lance of invisible force carved into the creature, blowing a clean, round hole in its torso. Alex’s hopes rose, even as h
is body sank. He heard Ren let out a triumphant “Yes!”
But the Walker didn’t so much as look down, and as its next step touched the pit floor, Alex saw limestone flowing like liquid up the creature — from foot to leg to body — filling in the hole. “Oh no,” whispered Alex, his arms and legs now fully encased in stone and only his chest, neck, and head still above it.
Todtman steeled himself for another attack, his eyes wide, seeking out the next threat. Would it come from below? Behind?
Above.
A chunk of stone no bigger than a baseball broke off the top edge of the pit. There was a faint whistling sound, Todtman looked up, and …
KLONK!
The stone hit him smack in the forehead, and he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. The pit floor immediately encircled and immobilized him.
Alex’s heart sank. He had failed both his friends, and he knew what came next. Death Walkers fed on the souls of the living — and they were messy eaters. The earthen entity surveyed its three trapped foes. It watched them struggle uselessly against the pit’s stony grip, like a finicky diner perusing a menu, deciding what to eat first.
A flash of white light made up its mind. “No, Ren!” called Alex, but it was too late. The Walker headed directly for her, closing the distance in long, hungry strides. She released another blast of white light. It was weaker this time, and had even less effect. But then —
“Mmmm-rack?”
Pai stepped into view, brushing past Ren’s sunken legs and sitting down directly between Ren and the Walker. Alex had forgotten all about Pai. It was easy to do with an enchanted feline who had a habit of vanishing abruptly. But at the moment, Pai wasn’t going anywhere.
“Mmm-RACK!” she repeated, not as a question this time.
The mummy cat’s vocabulary might not stretch much past one word, but her meaning seemed clear enough: Over my long-dead body.
The Walker looked down and opened its mouth. It took Alex a few moments to recognize the hoarse rasp that came out as a laugh.
“No, Pai,” Ren said softly. “Go.”
Alex saw the tears in his best friend’s eyes and felt guilt stab into him again. Others had died on this quest, but he didn’t think he could take it if she did. She was only here to help him, and now … He struggled as hard as he could against the stone all around him, jerking one way and then the other. The stone didn’t even hint at budging.
“Get out of there, Ren!” called Todtman from his own confinement. “Try to free one foot at a time!”
But the stone was up past Ren’s ankles now and neither foot would budge. Her last line of defense was an undead temple cat — which the Walker now casually flicked aside. He waved his hand and a two-foot-tall wave rose in the stone floor, heading straight for Pai, moving fast.
The mummy cat hissed and raised one bony paw, but the stony wave overwhelmed her. Her small body was carried off and — SSPLACKK! — smashed hard into the back wall of the pit. As the stone sank back into the ground, Pai wobbled upright, but she barely had time to look up before the next strike. A ten-foot-tall stone column crashed down on her with enough power to crush a car. As it receded, her little body lay motionless along the wall, bent in ways it should not have been.
“Noooo!” cried Ren.
And then everything changed.
In the middle of a cloudless day, a strange darkness fell over the pit.
The darkness lifted a moment later, revealing a woman with the head of a cat. She stood in the center of the pit, considering her surroundings. Everything was quiet and still. The Walker stood perplexed, its crude mouth hanging open. Even the light wind that had played on the warm air of the pit had stopped. The world itself seemed to be holding its breath.
“Shhhhh!” hissed Todtman, before adding in a rushed and barely audible whisper: “Do not move, do not provoke her.”
Not moving, Alex could manage. Still lying on his back, sunk up to his neck in stone, he really didn’t have a choice. But he could not take his eyes off this … this what? She had the body of a woman, clothed in a long, sleek gown, but her head was that of a giant cat — the shape of a Siamese but the size of a lioness. The soft fur rippled as the wind picked up again. She began to walk, and as she did, the colors of her clothing shifted, red bleeding seamlessly to blue flowing easily to green. A new color for each graceful step. Alex held his breath as she passed close by. Her floor-length gown brushed the ground with a soft, velvety swoosh.
He craned his head as far as his stone-stuck neck would let him. She was heading toward Pai’s motionless body. And just like that, he knew.
Bastet.
The cat-headed goddess had been Alex’s mom’s favorite. He ran through everything he knew about her: a powerful goddess, revered by the ancient Egyptians as a protector of both the pharaoh and the people.
And he remembered the little information plaque they’d salvaged from Pai’s wrecked case in London: PAI-EN-INMAR … FROM THE TEMPLE OF BASTET … Cats were considered sacred in ancient Egypt because of their association with Bastet. And temple cats like Pai were the most sacred of all.
Bastet glided ever closer to her fallen servant.
To harm any cat was considered bad luck, thought Alex.
The goddess stood over Pai’s twisted frame.
To harm a temple cat, well, that was just dumb …
Bastet bent down.
The Walker moved. Perhaps he had seen enough or perhaps he considered the cat’s remains to be his now, part of his sacrificial offering. Perhaps he simply wanted a closer look. Whatever the reason, he took a step directly toward Pai — toward Bastet.
And it’s never a good idea to challenge a goddess.
Her head turned and the slits of her cat eyes narrowed.
And she changed.
What had once been elegant and beautiful became fearsome. Her cat head was consumed by flames — red, then orange, then blue. Under the flames, Alex saw the shadow of her face, not a cat’s now but a lioness’s. Alex held his breath. Bastet was revered in ancient Egypt, but feared, too, and this was why. This was her other half. In her anger, she had taken on her predatory aspect. Standing before them now was her sister goddess …
Sekhmet.
The Destroyer.
Violence itself.
“Look away from her!” called Todtman.
Alex did as he was told. He looked instead toward the doomed Walker, who began to burn. The flames started at the edge of his ragged frame, and he writhed as they rushed inward, consuming him. Suddenly, his flaming body flew backward across the pit. He hit the far wall at incredible speed, like a missile.
FWOOOOM!
Alex felt the impact through the stone surrounding him and closed his eyes against the advancing wall of pulverized stone.
Quiet moments passed and the dust settled.
“She is gone,” breathed Todtman at last.
Alex opened his eyes and turned to look, surprised to find his neck no longer encased in stone but rather surrounded by powder. Slowly, he leaned forward and sat up. The powdered stone fell away, and he stood up, his limbs stiff but free. Todtman did the same, though the process was a bit harder on his old bones. Ren merely pulled her two feet free as if stepping out of a pair of stony slippers.
They all looked to the spot where Pai had been. The mummy cat was gone, and so was the one she served.
“Pai was just protecting me,” said Ren, her voice both sad and unsure. “Do you think she’s … dead?”
“She always was,” said Todtman with characteristic bluntness.
Ren glared at Todtman, and then did a quick double take in that direction. “A way out!”
Alex followed her eyes. Now that the dust had settled, he saw a huge hole blown into the far wall. Behind it was a dark hollow space. “Sekhmet blasted the Death Walker right through the wall,” said Alex, shaking his head. “That dude seriously picked the wrong cat to pick on.”
“Pai saved us,” said Ren.
Alex felt a
nother quick stab of guilt: Pai had saved them when he had failed, and it had cost her everything. He felt the new burden settle atop all the others, and all he managed to say was a halfhearted “Yeah.”
“No!” said Ren, insisting on it. “She. Saved. Us.”
“Yes,” said Todtman. “She sacrificed herself. She was noble — now let’s get out of here!”
Todtman took four steps forward, two of them limps, but by his fifth step, Ren was under one arm, supporting him. By the sixth, Alex was under the other. They hurried through the gaping hole in the pit wall. There was no sign of the Walker, not so much as a rib or pale stone eye.
“You remember how you said that without the Lost Spells the Walkers might be able to come back again?” said Alex.
“Yes,” said Todtman.
Alex took one more look around as they stepped through the smashed wall. “Well, I don’t think this one is coming back.”
Todtman smiled, but only briefly. As they stepped into the shadows, the finished floor and right angles told them this was not just a hole blasted into the rock. This was a room, and that meant this whole place was an underground stronghold.
“We must find a way out quickly,” said Todtman. “The leader is here and possibly others — a small army of men and guns, at the least. This is not a fight we want right now.”
Alex’s mind flashed to the rogues’ gallery of masked Order operatives they’d faced so far. But as they rushed across the room, it turned out it was the men and guns they had to deal with first. There were two of them, wearing the unmarked khaki uniforms The Order favored.
As the guards saw them, their eyes widened and their hands went to the pistols at their belts. But Alex’s hand was already on his scarab, and Todtman’s on his falcon. A wicked wind shear shot from Alex’s right hand. And his target was no ancient evil this time — this dude was maybe twenty-four. The wind slammed him backward into the wall, and he slowly slid down it, stunned and gasping.
Todtman took a different approach. The jeweled eyes of the falcon glowed softly, and the eyes of the second guard glazed over. The Watcher exerted a powerful hold over weak minds, minds used to taking orders. The man slid his pistol back into its holster. Todtman pulled himself free from Alex and Ren and approached him.
The Stone Warriors Page 8