The Shadow Prince, page 4
“Remember, I want them all gone,” the prince said, “every one of those little brats that wants to be Khufu’s shadow. You’ll put them in the ring with awful monsters, right? With claws and fangs and scales? You’ll make sure they all have a horrible fate?”
The bony protrusions on the god’s head wiggled. Fire flared in his tiny eyes. “Just as you requested. Only …” Set’s expression changed to a troubled look. The fire dimmed and his snout drooped a little. “Are you sure you want to go through with this? Khufu is your brother, after all. Harming his shadow candidates will only harm him.”
“I don’t care!” Rami snapped. “I’m the eldest prince and it’s my right to be pharaoh. Why shouldn’t Khufu’s candidates perish? Mine did. Now everyone’s looking to Khufu like he’s to be the future of Egypt instead of me. Even my father thinks so! But what does he know? The whole kingdom is in decline. Egypt is getting peaceful and soft. The lowly villagers have too much freedom, and our enemies don’t even fear us anymore. My father thinks they can be our friends! What rubbish. We’re losing sight of all the things that made us great.”
Set grinned. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Like war and chaos? Subjugation of the masses? The hoarding of wealth in the hands of the few, with demons roaming the world and … well … making things interesting for people.”
Prince Rami didn’t look entirely sure about that last bit, but he said, “Yes. That’s it. Anyway, this shadow tradition is out of date and …” He seemed at a loss for a moment, but then concluded, “Stupid. That’s what it is. Old and stupid.”
“Trust me, your brother’s shadow candidates will perish on the first day of the testing. So will his prospects of gaining the throne. If neither of you has a shadow, there will be no reason to elevate Khufu above you. You will again be first in line. Just be patient. Play your part. Look like a loyal brother and son. I’ll see to everything else.” Set’s ears rotated, listening for a moment to someone passing on a lower terrace.
When the person’s steps faded, Rami asked, “What do you want in return for this?”
Set raised an eyebrow above one of his small, red eyes. “Nothing more than to see you rule Egypt, and for me to rule beside you as your adviser, instead of stuffy old Horus.” He grinned so sincerely that Rami marched away satisfied.
“Twerp,” Set said once the prince was gone. “He’ll be so easy to control. He won’t really rule Egypt at all. I will.”
The Testing Day One
11 A Peculiar Way to Celebrate a Birthday
The next afternoon, standing in the waiting area inside the palace with Yazen, I couldn’t hold still. I paced, thinking of all the tests I’d been through and what was yet to come. I tried to focus on the pattern in the tiles, or the paintings that stretched all the way up to and across the ceiling, or the little canal of water that ran right through the room, coming in from one wall and leaving through the other. It was all impressive, but I had other things to think about.
I watched a boy being led to the testing chamber. He stopped before rounding the corner. Turning, he looked back at me. Despite his brown skin, the boy’s face was pale. He swallowed. The simple gesture looked painful. He turned into the corridor and strode out of view.
“He’s the last one,” I said, “except for me. How many do you think … survived?”
“I don’t know,” Yazen said. His face was lined and tense. I had a sneaking suspicion that he did know, but I didn’t push it. “It has been a difficult day. You’ve done well, though. I’m proud of you, Ash.”
It was nice of him to say that, but I couldn’t tell if I was doing well or not at most things, and I knew I’d totally made a mess of my hieroglyphics test. I’m the first to admit it: writing isn’t my strong point. I could never get my hand to form the symbols and pictures correctly. My mind tried to write one thing, but my fingers wrote something else. The result? I ended up looking like a fool.
At one point a scholar giving the tests plucked up one of my hieroglyphic exercises and studied it. He concluded sourly, “Lord Thoth should look at these.”
I groaned inside. The last thing I wanted was for Thoth—the god of magic and knowledge—to look over my scribbled glyphs! As it turned out, my test scores put me dead last of the candidates invited to the next stage. According to my mentor, now was when things began to get serious.
“And my glyphs?” I asked.
Yazen tapped me on the head. “Not ‘glyphs.’ Say ‘hieroglyphs’ if anybody mentions them, which I hope they don’t. Hieroglyphs never were your strong point. They brought your test scores down considerably. I’m sorry I couldn’t instruct you better on them, but there’s no use—”
“GROORAAR!”
A bellowing roar echoed from the testing chamber and down the corridor, bouncing off the stone walls. It was a horrible sound, low and guttural. My heartbeat quickened and a film of sweat appeared on my forehead. It was the sound of a cavern demon, one of the very creatures I’d trained to fight, back in the compound. The sound was more terrifying than Yazen had described. Back home they’d been pretend, contraptions rigged up by Yazen out of boards, wood, and imagination. But these cavern demons were the real thing and could come in all shapes and sizes, and …
“GROORAAR!”
I’d heard other demons as I waited. Each sounded horrible in its own particular way. Judging by the sound of this one, it was huge. Whatever it was, the other boy was facing it right now. Maybe quitting and going back to the village wasn’t such a bad idea. Merk would tease me mercilessly, but at least I’d be alive.
Yazen wiped the sweat from my forehead. “You remember the demons’ powers?”
“I think so.”
“And their tricks? They will always favor their tricks. Remember to use them against them.”
Sounded good, but only if I managed to guess the demon’s identity right. There were as many to choose from as there were stars in the sky. It wasn’t like I’d never gotten them mixed up in practice. And I’d never fought a real demon in practice—just Yazen pretending to be one. You couldn’t summon up a cavern demon for any old occasion.
The sound of weapons clashing cut the air, followed by an impact that shook the foundations of the place. Dust drifted down from the ceiling.
“You remember the demons’ weaknesses?”
Some of what Yazen called “weaknesses” I would have called “horrific traits that you might not want to know about.” What good was it to know that the Wailing Goddesses’ daggers dripped so much blood that they sometimes slipped on the stuff? They were still Wailing Goddesses! With bloody daggers!
A high-pitched scream ripped through the air. The only thing worse than the sound was that it stopped, cut off crisply. A moment later, low, demonic laughter grumbled through the passageways.
“I believe,” Yazen said gravely, “the young man came to an unfortunate end. Check your weapons.”
I did, trying hard not to think about what had just happened to that other boy. My weapons were all in good condition, sharpened and oiled. One iron spear, good for thrusting during hand-to-hand combat, and three throwing knives. That’s what I had.
I asked, “You don’t think Ammut will be there, do you?”
“Not likely,” Yazen said.
A palace official stepped into the stone entranceway of the royal audience chamber. He motioned for us to come.
“It’s time,” Yazen said.
I fought down the sudden urge to throw my arms around Yazen’s neck and cling to him, like I had done when I was younger. But I couldn’t let anyone think I was weak. The prince’s shadow had to be brave—or he had to be good at faking it, at least.
I respectfully turned to the old man, looking him in the eye. “Yazen, thank you for being my mentor,” I said.
“I was proud to do it, Ash,” Yazen said. He pursed his lips. Almost a smile, but not quite. “You are like a son to me. A much-loved son. Now, we must go.”
12 Demon, You May Feed Now
I stepped into the royal audience chamber. For the briefest moment, I saw them: the pharaoh, the falcon-headed god, the goddess with a sun disk headdress, the prince, and the other court officials. I should have been trembling in awe from my head right down to my toes. And I would’ve been. Really, I would’ve. I had never been presented to royalty, to the rich and powerful, to gods, even! For a poor villager like me, this should have been an incredible moment. Except for one thing …
… the cave demon.
He stood in the center of the sparring ring. One glimpse was all I needed to know who he was: one of the nine Jackal-Headed Demons That Feed on Rottenness. No munching on antelope for this guy. Zebra? Apparently not. He goes for rottenness. I was glad it wasn’t Ammut, but still. Cave demons were the stuff of nightmares. Monsters, creatures who had been warped and twisted by the dark magic of evil sorcerers long ago. They were ancient, perhaps even immortal. According to Yazen, they weren’t the brightest of creatures either, but being smart wasn’t what they were about. Being deadly, that’s what they were into.
The demon had a man’s body up to the neck. He was strong and muscular, a bit hairier than most. His feet were massive. His toes sprouted curving yellow nails that scratched at the paving stones. No regular jackal had ever had a head as big as his. It was so heavy that he stood straining under the weight of it. His teeth were longer than a man’s fingers. His long tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. His red eyes pinned themselves to me. He had only one purpose on this occasion—to make me dead, rotten, and edible. Judging by the look of him, he was ready to get the job done.
“So this is the final candidate?”
I realized the smooth, rich voice belonged to Pharaoh Neferu. I dropped to my knees and bowed, hoping the demon wouldn’t take advantage of the moment to bite me in two.
“He doesn’t look like much,” the pharaoh continued. “I fear he’s too thin to survive fighting this demon. Set, I’m not pleased. Your choices have limited my son’s chances of securing a shadow. Far too many candidates have perished.”
Set? Would that be Lord Set? I glanced up.
A figure stood with his arms crossed, leaning against one of the entrance pillars. His body was that of a slim, gray-skinned man, but his head was that of a … well, it was a … can’t say what it was. His head was long and pointy, like an anteater’s. He wasn’t an anteater, though. He also looked a bit like a striped okapi, and he had two knobs on his head similar to a giraffe’s. He was a bit of all these animals, but he wasn’t completely any of them. Weird looking as he was, he radiated power. It was like waves of heat rippled in the air around him. He was a god, all right.
Truth was, I’d never quite been able to make sense of the gods. There are hundreds of them. They’re immortal. They each have distinct powers all their own. Many of them can change into other shapes at will. They know things no human could ever understand, but they can be just as silly as two kids fighting over who gets to eat the last honey-dipped cricket. They are to be worshipped, and yet they also have to serve humankind. Yazen assured me it all made sense. I’ve never quite bought it, though.
“The demons have been fiercer than I’d suspected,” Set said, answering the pharaoh. His voice made me feel like I’d just stepped barefoot into something soft, warm, and sticky. “If you had voyaged with me to the bowels of the deep caverns—”
“You wished for the assignment.”
“I did, yes. My point is only that in those dark, foul places all the demons seem horrific. It’s difficult to compare one with another.” He glanced at me. His gaze was a hot touch that brushed across my skin. “In any event, we wouldn’t want an unworthy shadow for the prince, would we? It might be demons such as these that the shadow needs to defend the prince against someday.”
The pharaoh sighed. “All right, let us see what he can do. Young man, this has been a trying day. It is my hope that you will not perish in the next few moments. If you do, I will be truly saddened. But we have traditions to uphold.” He raised his voice and pronounced, “Demon, you may feed now.”
13 An Unconventional Fighting Technique
The jackal’s eager eyes fixed on me. His tongue slurped. The creature took a lumbering step forward.
I snapped up from my kneeling position, spear in hand. I circled away—I couldn’t leave the ring carved into the stone that surrounded us both. It would mean shame if I did. Failure.
The beast didn’t rush at me, but he didn’t need to. The circle wasn’t that big a space.
By the gods, that’s a big head!
That reminded me of something that Yazen had said. The Jackal-Headed Demons that Feed on Rottenness didn’t just have big heads. They had heads that were too big. Their bodies could just barely support them. That was why this guy was moving so slowly. It wasn’t just a menacing routine. He was trying not to get exhausted. Realizing this, I changed my strategy.
I ran. I darted around inside the circle. I shifted direction, faking side to side. I was fast and agile; the demon wasn’t. For a time this seemed like a good plan. The demon’s head craned one way and the next. He stumbled. He slapped his tongue around, getting angrier and looking clumsier for it. That was good, but it didn’t make his jaws any less frightening. I needed to attack somehow. Come on, Ash. You have a spear, do something with it!
I darted toward the demon, spear held tight in both hands. I took aim and thrust the point of my spear at his throat with all the force I could muster.
The demon shifted to one side. With a burst of speed, he grabbed the shaft of my spear, yanking it toward him—and me with it. Before I could do anything, the creature had me. The spear fell from my hand and clanked down on the stone floor. The onlookers gasped. The demon gripped me under my armpits, making my arms stick out to either side. An embarrassing posture, I assure you. I was so close to his jaws that his foul breath brought tears to my eyes.
Suspended over him in mid air, I remembered something I wish I had remembered a few seconds earlier. The demon’s weakness was the size and weight of his head, but his trick was luring people into thinking that the size and weight of his head made him unable to launch one sudden, swift attack. Yazen must have been cursing me for a fool. I thought about my daggers, but the demon’s grip made it impossible to reach down for them. I had to think quick.
The demon’s jaws opened. Saliva dripped from his fangs. There was that tongue again. It slopped around, waving at me from inside with a life of its own. As the demon was about to chomp, I reached into his gaping mouth, grabbed his tongue and yanked. Squirming back as far as I could, I just managed to avoid the teeth that shut right in front of me. The demon’s teeth clamped down on his tongue!
He dropped me and howled with pain. He stumbled. His head tipped back and threw him off balance. He careened out of the circle, backing into one of the basins of burning oil that lit the chamber. Instantly, he went up in flames and vanished in a puff of blue smoke. Just like that, he was gone. He wasn’t dead, of course, just sent back to the caverns he had been summoned from. But he wasn’t here to eat me.
I scrabbled back to my feet. I was so surprised to be alive that I forgot not to look directly at the royal court. They didn’t seem to notice my breach of rules. After a long moment of silence, Neferu nodded his regally adorned head. His face was strong-featured and proud, with dark, smooth skin. He stroked his chin with the base of his ankh.
Horus did the same, except he had to settle for rubbing the curved point of his beak. The air around him didn’t ripple like it did around Set, but Horus managed to look even more powerful. He was dressed as richly as the pharaoh. Though he sat straight-backed and still, just looking at him made me dizzy. It was as if he was diving through the air in flight—and me with him—faster than anything in the world, smashing through clouds, wind whipping at my face. It felt like that, but really he was just watching me calmly.
Then there was the goddess. She sat on the other side of Horus. There was no mistaking who she was: Lady Isis. She was Horus’s mother, but her form was completely human. Long, thick locks of hair framed her somber face. A glowing gold sun disk hovered above her head, nestled between two curving horns. It was amazing to think about all the things she’d seen, from the earliest days of creation through the ages since. She’d been a part of battles between gods, triumphs and tragedies I couldn’t even imagine. Her eyes had seen so many things. Now they were looking at me.
A boy sat next to her. He wore a smaller version of the pharaoh’s crown. It was Prince Khufu, the one all this testing was for. Realizing this made me remember my manners. I bowed my head.
“An unconventional tactic,” Neferu said.
“I’ve never seen the likes of it before,” Horus said. His voice was as sharp as the curve of his beak. I could hear his Egyptian words, but the sound seemed mixed with something like the screech of a falcon on the wing or the dry crackling of fire combusting.
Set moved closer to the royal dais. “A farce is what it was! An insult to the demon.”
“Insult to the demon?” the prince asked. “The demon was about to devour him!”
“That’s true enough, Khufu,” Isis said, her voice calm and smooth. “The boy used what he had at hand to stay alive. That’s commendable.”
Set recrossed his arms and harrumphed, but he didn’t seem to want to argue with Isis.
“But …” Neferu cleared his throat. “I must admit that tongue grabbing is not an officially sanctioned method for demon fighting. I judge this contest inconclusive.”
Khufu began to say something, but Horus cut him off. “Decidedly so,” the god said.
