The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

their rows. In some places seats had been removed to accommodate the Elders’ mutated forms.
    Janus struck the triangle again. “This is a great and terrible day. A day when we come to choose the next ruler of this city, and a day when we stand in judgment over one of our own.”
    Elders continued to wind through the aisles, making their way to their seats. Anubis followed Bastet down through the rows, nodding and smiling as he went. He had many friends here—well, not so much friends, more like allies, really. And in the entire room, there were probably no more than a handful who supported Aten and the humani, but they were powerful Elders and not to be lightly dismissed.
    Janus struck the triangle for a third time. “However, I believe this may be the greatest day in the history of Danu Talis.”
    Bastet twisted her head at an unnatural angle to look back at her son. “I bet Isis and Osiris paid him to say that.” She smiled nastily at the four-faced Elder and slid into her seat in the front row.
    Anubis took up a position beside her. He nudged his mother. The two seats directly opposite belonged to Isis and Osiris, but only Isis sat there. “Where’s Osiris?” he asked, completely forgetting that his voice carried clearly across the room.
    “He has gone to bring us the twins of legend,” Isis said loudly, her voice ringing through the room.
    All the gathered Elders sat forward at her words and the vast chamber grew deathly silent.
    “Yes, they are here. The rightful rulers of Danu Talis have come home.” Isis was turning to face the doors when suddenly they burst open and a wild-eyed Osiris appeared. “They’re gone!” he shouted, his voice thundering. “There’s blood everywhere!”
    “Oh, shame,” Bastet purred.
    “Sad,” Anubis agreed. “A tragic loss.”
    “There are three dead berserkers in the old museum.”
    Bastet gripped her son’s arm again and her nails punctured deep enough to scrape bone as the room erupted with shouts and questions.
    A grizzled and scarred anpu ran through the open doors and pushed past Osiris. The room fell deathly silent. None of the beasts or hybrids were allowed inside the Council Chamber. And this one had touched an Elder.
    “Defend yourselves,” the anpu barked. “We are under attack! Humani from the skies.”
    As the room dissolved into chaos, Bastet turned to Anubis. “I did not know they could talk,” she said.
    “Neither did I,” he muttered. “They never spoke to me.”
    And then the entire pyramid began to tremble.
    “Earthquake,” Bastet breathed. “Oh, can this day get any worse?”
    From across the room, Isis and Osiris both turned and looked at her, and their smiles were identical. “Oh yes,” they breathed. “Much worse.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
    ON A TINY island surrounded by bubbling lava, Aten, the Lord of Danu Talis, sat in a cage, waiting to be called to execution.
    He was exhausted, burnt and scarred from splashing lava, his robes dotted with singe holes. He was also conscious that the lava was rising, the bubbles getting larger and more regular. The air, already thick with sulfur, was becoming less breathable by the moment. If they didn’t come to kill him soon, they’d find him dead of asphyxiation. And he was guessing that neither his mother nor brother would be too pleased about that.
    On the other side of the lava pool, a rectangle of white light appeared as a door opened. Three huge anpu pushed the bridge into place, and then Dagon, the jailer, hurried forward, the protective goggles he wore making his face even more fishlike. Two of the huge guards accompanied him, while the third remained at the door. Even if a prisoner did manage to overpower the guards, he would never get back across the bridge before the guard at the door had slipped through it and locked it from the other side.
    Dagon refused to look him in the eye as he fiddled with the complicated lock. “It is time, Lord Aten.”
    “I know.”
    “The guards have instructions to kill you if you try to escape.”
    “I will not try, Dagon. Where would I go? What would I do? I am where I am supposed to be.”
    The jailer bubbled a grim laugh. “Why, Lord Aten, anyone would think you allowed yourself to be caught.” He looked up suddenly. “Oh,” he whispered, as realization dawned. Dagon stepped closer to the bars and lowered his voice. “The humani call for you, Lord Aten. They are protesting outside the jail. There have been disturbances all across the