“Aw, c’mon!”
Felix believed that the answer to every problem involved penguins; but it wasn’t fair to the birds, and I was getting tired of teleporting them back home. Somewhere in Antarctica, a whole flock of Magellanic penguins was undergoing psychotherapy.
“Begin!” I yelled, and the shabti attacked.
Julian, a big seventh grader who’d already decided on the path of Horus, went straight into battle. He hadn’t quite mastered summoning a combat avatar, but he encased his fist in golden energy like a wrecking ball and punched the shabti. It flew backward into wall, cracking to pieces. One down.
Alyssa had been studying the path of Geb, the earth god. Nobody at Brooklyn House was an expert in earth magic, but Alyssa rarely needed help. She’d grown up in a family of potters in North Carolina, and had been working with clay since she was a little girl.
She dodged the shabti’s clumsy swing and touched it on the back. A hieroglyph glowed against its clay armor:
Nothing seemed to happen to the warrior, but when it turned to strike, Alyssa just stood there. I was about to yell at her to duck, but the shabti missed her completely. Its blade hit the floor, and the warrior stumbled. It attacked again, swinging half a dozen times, but its blade never got close to Alyssa. Finally the warrior turned in confusion and staggered to the corner of the room, where it banged its head against the wall and shuddered to a stop.
Alyssa grinned at me. “Sa-per,” she explained. “Hieroglyph for Miss.”
“Nice one,” I said.
Meanwhile, Felix found a non-penguin solution. I had no idea what type of magic he might eventually specialize in, but today he went for simple and violent. He grabbed a basketball from the bench, waited for the shabti to take a step, then bounced the ball off its head. His timing was perfect. The shabti lost its balance and fell over, its sword arm cracking off. Felix walked over and stomped on the shabti until it broke to pieces.
He looked at me with satisfaction. “You didn’t say we had to use magic.”
“Fair enough.” I made a mental note never to play basketball with Felix.
Walt was the most interesting to watch. He was a sau, a charm maker, so he tended to fight with whatever magic items he had on hand. I never knew what he was going to do.
As for his path, Walt hadn’t decided which god’s magic to study. He was a good researcher like Thoth, the god of knowledge. He could use scrolls and potions almost as well as Sadie, so he could’ve chosen the path of Isis. He might have even chosen Osiris, because Walt was a natural at bringing inanimate things to life.
Today he was taking his time, fingering his amulets and considering his options. As the shabti approached, Walt retreated. If Walt had a weakness, it was his cautiousness. He liked to think a long time before he acted. In other words, he was Sadie’s exact opposite.
[Don’t punch me, Sadie. It’s true!]
“C’mon, Walt,” Julian called. “Kill it already.”
“You’ve got this,” Alyssa said.
Walt reached for one of his rings. Then he stepped backward and stumbled over the shards of Felix’s broken shabti.
I shouted, “Look out!”
But Walt slipped and fell hard. His shabti opponent rushed forward, slashing down with
its sword.
I raced to help, but I was too far away. Walt’s hand was already rising instinctively to block the strike. The enchanted ceramic blade was almost as sharp as real metal. It should’ve hurt Walt pretty badly, but he grabbed it, and the shabti froze. Under Walt’s fingers, the blade turned gray and became webbed with cracks. The gray spread like frost over the entire warrior, and the shabti crumbled into a pile of dust.
Walt looked stunned. He opened his hand, which was perfectly fine.
“That was cool!” Felix said. “What amulet was that?”
Walt gave me a nervous glance, and I knew the answer. It wasn’t an amulet. Walt had no idea how he’d done it.
That would have been enough excitement for one day. Seriously. But the weirdness was just beginning.
Before either of us could say anything, the floor shook. I thought maybe Walt’s magic was spreading into the building, which wouldn’t have been good. Or maybe someone below us was experimenting with exploding donkey curses again.
Alyssa yelped. “Guys…”
She pointed to the statue of Ra jutting out from the wall, ten feet above us. Our godly basketball hoop was crumbling.