The Serpent's Shadow (The Kane Chronicles, Book Three) by Rick Riordan Page A

must take it for the good of Egypt. When the Kanes are dead, we will be strong and united again. We will undo the damage you’ve caused and send the gods and Apophis back to the Duat. Justice comes swiftly, Carter Kane. This will be your only warning.”
    Sarah Jacobi’s image dissolved in the oil, and I was alone again with Zia’s reflection.
    “Yeah,” I said shakily. “For a mass murderer, she’s pretty convincing.”
    Zia nodded. “Jacobi has already turned or defeated most of our allies in Europe and Asia. A lot of the recent attacks—against Paris, Tokyo, Madrid—those were Jacobi’s work, but she’s blaming them on Apophis—or Brooklyn House.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “You and I know that,” she agreed. “But the magicians are scared. Jacobi is telling them that if the Kanes are destroyed, Apophis will go back to the Duat and things will return to normal. They want to believe it. She’s telling them that following you is a death sentence. After the destruction of Dallas—”
    “I get it,” I snapped.
    It wasn’t fair for me to get mad at Zia, but I felt so helpless. Everything we did seemed to turn out wrong. I imagined Apophis laughing in the Underworld. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t attacked the House of Life in full force yet. He was having too much fun watching us tear each other apart.
    “Why didn’t Jacobi direct her message at Amos?” I asked. “He’s the Chief Lector.”
    Zia glanced away as if checking on something. I couldn’t see much of her surroundings, but she didn’t seem to be in her dorm room at the First Nome, or in the Hall of Ages. “Like Jacobi said, they consider Amos a servant of evil. They won’t talk to him.”
    “Because he was possessed by Set,” I guessed. “That wasn’t his fault. He’s been healed. He’s fine.”
    Zia winced.
    “What?” I asked. “He is fine, isn’t he?”
    “Carter, it’s—it’s complicated. Look, the main problem is Jacobi. She’s taken over Menshikov’s old base in St. Petersburg. It’s almost as much of a fortress as the First Nome. We don’t know what she’s up to or how many magicians she has. We don’t know when she’ll strike or where. But she’s going to attack soon.”
    Justice comes swiftly. This will be your only warning.
    Something told me Jacobi wouldn’t attack Brooklyn House again, not after she’d been humiliated last time. But if she wanted to take over the House of Life and destroy the Kanes, what else could her target be?
    I locked eyes with Zia, and I realized what she was thinking.
    “No,” I said. “They’d never attack the First Nome. That would be suicide. It’s survived for five thousand years.”
    “Carter…we’re weaker than you realize. We were never fully staffed. Now many of our best magicians have disappeared, possibly gone over to the other side. We’ve got some old men and a few scared children left, plus Amos and me.” She spread her arms in exasperation. “And half the time I’m stuck here—”
    “Wait,” I said. “Where are you?”
    Somewhere to Zia’s left, a man’s voice warbled, “Hell-ooooo!”
    Zia sighed. “Great. He’s up from his nap.”
    An old man stuck his face in the scrying bowl. He grinned, showing exactly two teeth. His bald wrinkly head made him look like a geriatric baby. “Zebras are here!”
    He opened his mouth and tried to suck the oil out of the bowl, making the whole scene ripple.
    “My lord, no!” Zia pulled him back. “You can’t drink the enchanted oil. We’ve talked about this. Here, have a cookie.”
    “Cookies!” he squealed. “Wheee!” The old man danced off with a tasty treat in his hands.
    Zia’s senile grandfather? Nope. That was Ra, god of the sun, first divine pharaoh of Egypt and archenemy of Apophis. Last spring we’d gone on a quest to find him and revive him from his twilight sleep, trusting he would rise in all his glory and fight the Chaos snake for us.
    Instead, Ra woke up senile and demented. He was