Sadie was still talking. Her tone had taken on a harder edge.
‘My mother, Ruby Kane,’ Sadie told Serapis, ‘she gave her life to seal Apophis in the Duat. Apophis, mind you – who is thousands of years older than you and much more powerful. So if you think I’m going to let a second-rate god take over the world, think again!’
The anger in her voice was no mere bluff, and suddenly Annabeth was glad she’d given Sadie the job of facing down Serapis. The magician was surprisingly terrifying when she wanted to be.
Serapis shifted his weight uneasily. ‘I will destroy you!’
‘Good luck,’ Sadie said. ‘I’ve bound you with Greek and Egyptian spells so powerful they will scatter your atoms to the stars.’
‘You lie!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I feel no spell upon me. Even the one who summoned me had no such magic.’
Annabeth was face to face with the black dog. The dagger was just overhead, but every molecule in her body rebelled at the idea of killing the animal … killing the future.
Meanwhile, Sadie managed a brave laugh. ‘The one who summoned you? You mean that old con artist Setne?’
Annabeth didn’t know the name, but Serapis obviously did. The air around him rippled with heat. The lion snarled. The wolf bared its teeth.
‘Oh, yes,’ Sadie continued. ‘I’m very familiar with Setne. I suppose he didn’t tell you who let him back into the world. He’s only alive because I spared him. You think his magic is powerful? Try me. Do it NOW.’
Annabeth stirred. She realized Sadie was talking to her, not the god. The bluff was getting old. She was out of time.
Serapis sneered. ‘Nice try, magician.’
As he raised his staff to strike, Annabeth jumped. Her hand closed round the hilt of the dagger, and she pulled it free.
‘What?’ Serapis cried.
Annabeth let loose a guttural sob and plunged her dagger into the dog’s neck.
She expected an explosion.
Instead, the dagger was sucked into the dog’s neck like a paper clip into a vacuum cleaner. Annabeth barely had time to let go.
She rolled free as the dog howled, shrinking and shrivelling until it imploded into the monster’s shell. Serapis roared. He shook his sceptre but he couldn’t seem to let go of it.
‘What have you done?’ he cried.
‘Taken your future,’ Annabeth said. ‘Without that, you’re nothing.’
The staff cracked open. It grew so hot that Annabeth felt the hairs on her arms start to burn. She crawled backwards through the sand as the lion and wolf heads were sucked into the shell. The entire staff collapsed into a red fireball
in the god’s palm.
Serapis tried to shake it off. It only glowed brighter. His fingers curled inward. His hand was consumed. His entire arm contracted and vaporized as it was drawn into the fiery sphere.
‘I cannot be destroyed!’ Serapis yelled. ‘I am the pinnacle of your worlds combined! Without my guidance, you will never attain the crown! You all shall perish! You shall –’
The fireball flared and sucked the god into its vortex. Then it winked out as if it had never existed.
‘Ugh,’ Sadie said.
They sat on the beach at sunset, watching the tide and listening to the wail of emergency vehicles behind them.
Poor Rockaway. First a hurricane. Then a train wreck, a building collapse and a rampaging god all in one day. Some communities never catch a break.
Annabeth sipped her Ribena – a British drink that Sadie had summoned from her ‘personal storage area’ in the Duat.
‘Don’t worry,’ Sadie assured her. ‘Summoning snacks isn’t hard magic.’