The Enchantress (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel)

burning comets.
    “No!” Inanna the Elder strode out of the pyramid, claws scratching on the ground. “No!”
    “Yes!” a rat-faced Elder shouted. “After this night, the humani will be no more. It is time to end this mistake.”
    Inanna leapt, her claws and wings carrying her twenty feet into the air. When she landed on the rat-faced Elder, his brittle bones snapped and he was dead before he hit the ground.
    “I said no,” Inanna repeated. “We cannot exterminate an entire race.”
    “Oh yes we can,” Bastet screamed. “We should have done it a long time ago.”
    Hands and talons dragged Inanna to her feet, but she turned on them, scratching and clawing, and suddenly one of the Elders to her right erupted into a ball of fire, and one on the left crumbled into a pillar of salt.
    The courtyard in front of the pyramid dissolved into chaos as Elder fought Elder and the hybrid guards fought the humans. But those Elders who supported the human cause were vastly outnumbered by those who called for their annihilation. And thousands more of the hybrids were streaming from the pyramid.
    And in the midst of all the confusion, Tsagaglalal led Sophie and Josh out the entrance and started the long climb up the steps of the pyramid. Their gold and silver armor took the evening sunlight and they blazed brightly, reflecting streaks of light across the golden stones.
    Bastet grabbed Anubis’s arm, squeezing hard enough to leave a bruise. “Kill them!” she screamed. With surprising strength, she spun her son around her. “Kill them, and Danu Talis is ours. Yours.” She lowered her voice and put her head close to his. “Let the humani kill as many Elders as possible and you will be able to rule as an absolute emperor, with no one to oppose you. Think of that a moment.”
    Anubis shook off his mother’s arm and fought and kicked his way through the milling humani to grab the nearest anpu commander. He pointed to the three armored shapes—white, gold and silver—scrambling up the side of the pyramid. “Leave the humani to the Elders. Take everyone, take every single beast, monster and hybrid under your command, and chase down those three. Kill them and bring me their heads and their armor as proof.”
    The anpu looked around and pointed left and right, a question clear on his jackal face. A small group of humani archers were picking off the anpu guarding one of the bridges over a canal. Another group had crashed a vimana into a troop of Asterion, decimating them. With the bridge breached, humani were starting to pour into the square.
    Anubis shook his head. “Those are all minor irritations. Kill the children.”
    The anpu grunted, raised a hunting horn to his lips and blew hard, three short blasts. Suddenly all the anpu, followed by the rest of the hybrids, retreated toward the pyramid, leaving the cheering humani to have the bridges and the square.
    Another short blast sent every creature racing up the pyramid after Tsagaglalal, Sophie and Josh.
    And on the opposite side of the square, moving low and fast, avoiding the conflict, Isis and Osiris ran toward their vimana.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
    “PEOPLE OF DANU Talis,” Aten called.
    Everyone screamed aloud his name, but he held up his manacled hands for silence and a hush fell over the crowd.
    “Humans of Danu Talis. Ard-Greimne wants me to tell you what to do.”
    The crowd moaned.
    “He wants me to tell you to go home . . .”
    The crowd groaned even louder.
    “. . . and leave this place.”
    “No!” someone shouted.
    “But I am not going to tell you to do that,” Aten said loudly. The flickering torchlight painted his features in flame and shadow, making him seem even taller than he was. “If I had remained in power, you would have become the equals of the Elders. But now the Elders are determined that you will never be more than you are. And if some have their way, you will cease to exist altogether.”
    “Get ready,” Scathach said suddenly. She’d been watching Ard-Greimne, noting the way his muscles were bunching, seeing the line twitching in his jaw.
    She’d never known the person her father had been before the Fall. The family never spoke about it. He’d always had a temper, and there were hints here and there that he had been a monster—worse, that he had killed hundreds, maybe even thousands of humans—but she’d never believed it.
    And yet, here he was, prepared to order archers to fire into an unarmed crowd before loosing troops on