The goddess spread her arms. They turned into wings—black, matted plumage buzzing with flies and smelling of death. “Vultures are very good, Sadie Kane. We remove the sickly and weak. We circle them until they die, then feed on their carcasses, cleaning the world of their stench. You, on the other hand, would bring back Ra, that wizened old carcass of a sun god. You would place a weak pharaoh on the throne of the gods. It goes against nature! Only the strong should live. The dead should be eaten.”
Her breath smelled like roadkill.
Despicable creatures, vultures: without a doubt the most disgusting birds ever. I supposed they served their purpose, but did they have to be so greasy and ugly? Couldn’t we have cute fuzzy rabbits that cleaned up roadkill instead?
“Right,” I said. “First, get out of my Gran. Then, if you’re a good vulture, I’ll buy you some breath mints.”
This must’ve been a sore subject for Nekhbet. She lunged at me. I dove sideways, clambering over the couch and tipping it in the process. Nekhbet swept Gran’s china collection off the sideboard.
“You will die, Sadie Kane!” she said. “I will pick clean your bones. Then the other gods will see you were not worthy!”
I waited for another attack, but she just glared at me from the other side of the sofa. It occurred to me that vultures don’t usually kill. They wait for their prey to die.
Nekhbet’s wings filled the room. Her shadow fell over me, wrapping me in darkness. I began to feel trapped, helpless, like a small sickly animal.
If I hadn’t tested my will against gods before, I might not have recognized this as magic—this insistent nagging in the back of my mind, urging me to give up in despair. But I’d stood against any number of horrid gods from the underworld. I could handle a greasy old bird.
“Nice try,” I said. “But I’m not going to lie down and die.”
Nekhbet’s eyes glittered. “Perhaps it will take some time, my dear, but as I told you, I’m patient. If you won’t succumb, your mortal friends will be here soon. What are their names —Liz and Emma?”
“Leave them out of this!”
“Ah, they’ll make lovely appetizers. And you haven’t even said hello to dear old Gramps yet.”
Blood roared in my ears. “Where is he?” I demanded.
Nekhbet glanced at the ceiling. “Oh, he’ll be along shortly. We vultures like to follow a nice big predator around, you know, and wait for it to do the killing.”
From upstairs came a muffled crash—as if a large piece of furniture had been thrown out a window.
Gramps shouted, “No! No-o-o-o!” Then his voice changed into the roar of a mad animal. “NOOOOOOAHHH!”
The last of my courage melted into my combat boots. “Wh-what—”
“Yes,” Nekhbet said. “Babi is waking.”
“B-bobby? You’ve got a god named Bobby?”
“B-A-B-I,” the vulture goddess snarled. “You really are quite dense, aren’t you, dear?”
The ceiling plaster cracked under the weight of heavy footsteps. Something was tromping toward the stairwell.
“Babi will take good care of you,” Nehkbet promised. “And there will be plenty left over for me.”
“Good-bye,” I said, and I bolted for the door.
Nekhbet didn’t try to stop me. She shrieked behind me, “A hunt! Excellent!”
I made it across the street when our front door exploded. Glancing back, I saw something emerge from the ruins and dust—a dark hairy shape much too big to be my grandfather.
I didn’t wait for a better look.
I raced around the corner of South Colonnade and plowed straight into Liz and Emma.
“Sadie!” Liz yelped, dropping a birthday present. “What’s wrong?”
“No time!” I said. “Come on!”