“Hello,” he said, with his sharp teeth.

“Hi.”

“Do you know how to swim?” he asked.

“No.”

“Well then, time to learn!” He picked me up and threw me straight out into the middle of the river before I could even process what was happening.

I sank. I’d never been in the water without my mother before, and she wasn’t there, and I didn’t know what to do without her. The water was murky and stung my eyes, but I knew if I waited, my mother would come for me.

She had to. She always came for me.

And when my chest hurt so much I wanted to cry and I couldn’t hold my breath any longer, instead of inky blackness claiming me like in the dream, those hands I knew better than any others in the world grabbed me and pulled me straight up into the air.

It was the only time I’d ever seen my mother cry. I was upset and crying and she was, too, screaming at Anubis, who was laughing and telling her to calm down, it was all a joke.

That’s why he was banned from our house! I can’t believe I blocked that out. And I can’t believe that when I next saw him, just before coming here, he genuinely didn’t recognize me, didn’t even remember what he’d done. That’s how unimportant I am.

I wipe my eyes, stuck with so much remembering. Funny how something can trigger a dead memory. I can still taste the water, still remember the grit it left on my skin, still remember just how sure I was as I drowned that my mother would not fail me.

I can’t believe I let that nightmare replace the actual memory. My mother saved me. Of course she saved me. She would never have let something happen to me like that. She may have used me, may be replacing me now, but she took care of me.

I need to call her. I’ll call her tonight, just to see how she’s doing.

Someone laughs behind me, pulling me back into the present. I turn around to see Ry peeling off his shirt.

My traitor heart thuds. I am not thinking about the Nile, or Anubis, or calling my mother anymore. Because Ry isn’t wearing a shirt.

It’s just skin.

It’s just skin.

IT’S JUST SKIN.

I’m so busy not noticing Ry’s torso that Tyler tackles me from behind and I let myself sink to sit on the bottom. It’s quiet down here, aside from the thrashing legs of my wrestling friends. And I can see clearly, though everything is distorted. It’s nothing like the Nile. I can save myself now.

Then Ry sinks down, too, sitting next to me, his hair floating up all around his face as he smiles and winks. I can’t look away from his eyes, blue even through the pool-filtered light.

Thud goes my traitor heart.

Thud goes my brain.

Thud goes Scott, pushed down next to us as Tyler dances on his shoulders, finally breaking the spell of those ridiculous blue eyes. I surface for air.

I feel like I’m drowning again.

11

Isis still wanted more power. She continually feared for Horus’s safety, and she envied Amun-Re his distance from the worries and strife of the other gods. And so she watched, and waited, and found the perfect method of poison delivery.

One day as Amun-Re walked the earth, a snake bit him. But it was not a snake he had created, and so he could not name it and remove the venom. Amun-Re, god of the sun, was dying.

He called on Isis, possessor of great magic and also renowned for her medicinal skills. Isis was waiting, as she had been since she put the snake in his path. She would heal Amun-Re in exchange for his true name—a name she could call on to use his power.

Amun-Re listed name after name, trying to confuse her, but she would not be deterred. And, knowing Isis, Amun-Re feared that telling her his name would be telling Horus his name as well. And, knowing Isis, Amun-Re did not doubt she would let him die.

In the end, he had no choice.

My mom would have let the sun die before she’d let Horus come to any harm. And yet I got to decorate my own tomb.

“RELAX.” RY LEANS AGAINST THE CHIPPED Formica counter, the long, lean lines of his body showing the relaxation he’d have me imitate. “We’re ahead of schedule. We can’t install the lights until the paint is completely dry on everything anyway.”

I nod, twisting our receipt between my fingers. It feels weird to be out, getting dinner instead of having Tyler or Scott drop it off for us. But Ry has a point—we have to wait. And thanks to his work the last four days, we can afford to.

That, and if I lose any more brain cells to paint fumes, I might not remember my own name.

Tyler had been very excited to get the afternoon off, and even more excited when I gave her Sirus’s tickets to the Padres game to take Scott out to. They deserve a fun evening together, and Scott’s obsessed with baseball, which Tyler inexplicably thinks is adorable. I couldn’t handle the idea of the crowds. A quiet evening with Ry was far more appealing.

Ry hands me a cup filled to the brim with Coke and ice. “You need this.”

“Floods, yes. Thank you.”

“We’re doing great.” He nudges me with his elbow, and I smile into my cup. “You’ve totally earned tonight.”

“But did we have to come here?” I’m not a snob, and Ry has taught me that the best regional food is usually found in the sketchiest-looking places, but this run-down hole-in-the-wall Mexican eatery is not looking promising.

“Trust me. Once you’ve had carne asada fries, you will never go back. It’s like a burrito threw up on a plate of cheap french fries.”

“You do realize that’s the least appealing description of anything, ever.”