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The guillotine demons pushed him to his knees. Setne seemed to find that amusing. His eyes flickered over the room, registering each one of us. I tried not to make eye contact, but it was difficult. Setne recognized me and winked. Somehow I knew that he could read my jumbled emotions quite well, and that he found them funny.

He inclined his head toward the throne. “Lord Osiris, all this fuss for me? You shouldn’t have.”

My father didn’t answer. With a grim expression, he gestured at Disturber, who shuffled through his scroll until he found the proper spot.

“Setne, also known as Prince Khaemwaset—”

“Oh, wow…” Setne grinned at me, and I fought the urge to smile back. “Haven’t heard that name in a while. That’s ancient history, right there!”

Disturber huffed. “You stand accused of heinous crimes! You have blasphemed against the gods four thousand and ninety-two times.”

“Ninety-one,” Setne corrected. “That crack about Lord Horus—that was just a misunderstanding.” He winked at Carter. “Am I right, pal?”

How in the world did he know about Carter and Horus?

Disturber shuffled his scroll. “You have used magic for evil purposes, including twenty-three murders—”

“Self-defense!” Setne tried to spread his hands, but the ribbons restrained him.

“—including one incident where you were paid to kill with magic,” Disturber said.

Setne shrugged. “That was self-defense for my employer.”

“You plotted against three separate pharaohs,” Disturber continued. “You tried to overthrow the House of Life on six occasions. Most grievous of all, you robbed the tombs of the dead to steal books of magic.”

Setne laughed easily. He glanced at me as if to say, Can you believe this guy?

“Look, Disturber,” he said, “that is your name, right? A handsome, intelligent judgment god like you—you’ve got to be overworked and underappreciated. I feel for you, I really do. You’ve got better things to do than dig up my old history. Besides, all these charges—I answered them already in my previous trials.”

“Oh.” Disturber looked confused. He adjusted his wig self-consciously and turned to my dad. “Should we let him go, then, my lord?”

“No, Disturber.” Dad sat forward. “The prisoner is using divine words to influence your mind, warping the most sacred magic of Ma’at. Even in his bindings, he is dangerous.”

Setne examined his fingernails. “Lord Osiris, I’m flattered, but honestly, these charges—”

“Silence!” Dad thrust his hand toward the prisoner. The swirling hieroglyphs glowed brighter around him. The Ribbons of Hathor tightened.

Setne began to choke. His smug expression melted, replaced by absolute hatred. I could feel his anger. He wanted to kill my father, kill us all.

“Dad!” I said. “Please, don’t!”

My father frowned at me, clearly unhappy with the interruption. He snapped his fingers, and Setne’s bonds eased. The ghost magician coughed and retched.

“Khaemwaset, son of Ramses,” my father said calmly, “you have been sentenced to oblivion more than once. The first time you managed to plead for a reduced sentence, volunteering to serve the pharaoh with your magic—”

“Yes,” Setne croaked. He tried to recover his poise, but his smile was twisted with pain. “I’m skilled labor, my lord. It would be a crime to destroy me.”

“Yet you escaped en route,” my father said. “You killed your guards and spent the next three hundred years sowing Chaos across Egypt.”

Setne shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. Just a bit of fun.”

“You were captured and sentenced again,” my father continued, “three more times. In each instance, you connived your way to freedom. And since the gods have been absent from the world, you’ve run amok, doing as you pleased, committing crimes and terrorizing mortals.”

“My lord, that’s unfair,” Setne protested. “First of all, I missed you gods. Honestly, it was a dull few millennia without you. As for these so-called crimes, well, some people might say the French Revolution was a first-class party! I know I enjoyed myself. And Archduke Ferdinand? A total bore. If you knew him, you would’ve assassinated him too.”

“Enough!” Dad said. “You are done. I am the host of Osiris now. I will not tolerate the existence of a villain like you, even as a spirit. This time you are out of tricks.”

Ammit yipped excitedly. The guillotine guards chopped their blades up and down as if they were clapping. Disturber cried, “Hear, hear!”


Tags: Rick Riordan Kane Chronicles Fantasy