Chapter 1

Lord of Chaos

Naomi flipped to the second page of her final. It was no mere two or three pages stapled together. It was a book. She had two and a half hours to finish a twenty page exam. It clearly was meant to test not only her knowledge, but her endurance as well. The air conditioning must have been running full blast in December for the same reason, to prepare her in case she needed to try a case, in the open air, in Antarctica. You never know.

Your client faces extradition to stand trial for criminal charges in a country with which the United States does not have an extradition treaty. Council for the prosecution claims common international law as the basis for his argument. In two paragraphs, summarize your counter-argument.

She knew precedent was part of the answer. The professor mentioned that yesterday, but what was the case? Something about--

“Breakfast?”

Naomi jumped and looked up. Speaking of endurance, Set--yes the Ancient Egyptian Lord of Chaos with the head of a hook-nosed dog and an inexplicable fascination with her--stood at her desk holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a Styrofoam coffee cup in the other. Great. He’s learned to play fetch.

Today, in Set’s ongoing fashion show, he wore a cowlick of red hair, a tiny nose, wide lips and a cacophony of freckles. He was short with brown eyes, and he was dressed like he’d stepped out of a 1950s family sitcom.

No one else in the classroom moved. The clock on the wall in front of the long lecture hall stood motionless, with the second hand poised and waiting to usher in the next minute. Outside the window, a pigeon hung frozen mid-flap. Around her, the entire school, all of New York, sat in eerie silence. Even the constant hum of emotions and vibrations that she, as a psychic, always felt was gone.

She turned to Set. “You stopped time.”

“Yep.” He put the coffee down. “You’d get in trouble eating in class otherwise.”

“I’m not eating. I’m taking a test now.” She tried to hand the coffee back to him. He put the bag on her desk and smoothed it flat to use as a plate. Before she could push it away, he put the bagel on top of it.

“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning--”

“You were spying on me?” Figures. That seemed to be his favorite pastime.

“And you barely had dinner last night. You need to eat.”

“I need to pass.” She moved her test papers to the side as best she could on the small half-desk that was attached to her chair. Failing that, she put them on top of her school bag next to her chair for the moment. She would not be able to explain crumbs or a coffee stain on her answer booklet.

He dusted off his hands. “You’ll do better with a good breakfast.”

Naomi sighed. To Set ‘no’ meant ‘push harder’. “Don’t you have a company to run?”

Set owned Mischief and Mayhem, a fairly successful video game company. She thought that being CEO would keep him busy, but he always managed to make time in his schedule to see her. A lot of time.

“It pays to be the boss.” He stepped back a pace and regarded her with a look of smug satisfaction.

She gave him a cold look. “I’m fine. Go.” She wasn’t sure if it was chaos or poor taste that made him fixate on her rather than on some ravishing beauty. She had shoulder-length red hair that curled too much and too irregularly to style well, not quite the Little Orphan Annie curls, more like wavy strands that couldn’t agree on a direction to wave in. She had freckles, and mossy green eyes. Not jade green or emerald green or some kind of semi-precious or precious gem green. Moss green. It was as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted to be green or brown and struck a compromise. Redheads were sacred to Set, but she doubted he chased after all of them.

“I’m not going anywhere until you eat and I’m not starting time up again either.”

“So you’ve finally resorted to threatening me? It could be a long forever with the two of us just glaring at each other.”

“Now you’re being unfair. It’s nothing like that. I just want you to eat breakfast.”

“Does it matter what I want?”

“Of course it does. I’m only looking out for your best interest.”

“Indeed.” She indicated the food. “If I eat this, will you go away?”

“Yep.”

“Permanently?”

He shook his head. She rolled her eyes and took a bite. She was hungry. She didn’t have time to cook last night and take-out wasn’t in the budget. She’d planned to stop off for something. She’d just rather have finished her final first.

“So why this interest in nutrition all of a sudden?” She bit into the bagel.

“I’m always interested in you.” He leaned on her desk and grinned at her. In a crowded room, she suddenly felt very much alone.

“I’m sort of surprised you came up with something so normal.” She sipped at her coffee and made a face. It was black with no sugar. She took her coffee sweet and light.

He narrowed his eyes only slightly. “How do you mean?”

She put the coffee down, resigned to eating her bagel dry. “Knowing you, I would have figured you’d bring croissants from France and espresso from Italy.”

He stood up straight and backed away slightly. “I thought you liked New York bagels.”

“I do. But you like showing off.” She studied him. “Are you all right?”

“I have a big meeting with the board today, actually.” He leaned against the neighboring desk. “I guess I’m a little tense.”

“Then go deal with that and stop bothering me.”

He spread his hands. “You help me relax.”

“Puppies do that too.” She popped the last of the bagel into her mouth. “Satisfied?” She brushed the crumbs off the desk and into the bag.

“Completely.” He vanished and the trash vanished with him. Around her, pencils scratched on paper and outside the window the bird flew on.

---

Set materialized on the deck of the sun barge, the Barque of a Thousand Years, just as Sebau made a grab for it with his claws. Sebau was in his most natural form, Naomi would say his real form, that of an enormous dragon. His ankle was the size of Set’s body, and his tail cut the sky with a ribbon of darkness. He hovered just above the ship on leathery black wings.

“What took you?” Ra called over his shoulder. He was alone and had to fight and keep the sun on course simultaneously. He was thin and shorter than Set, though he seemed taller because of the crown of the solar disk he wore, a glowing orb surrounded by a ureaus. His clothes were torn and bloodied.

“Board meeting.” Set tossed aside his briefcase and jacket and loosened his tie. His sword appeared in his hand. He slashed Sebau’s hand. Green blood gushed onto grey scales and Sebau reeled back, then caught himself with his wings and flew forward.

Set raised his palm to the sky. “Dance for me, dragon.” Lightning bolts flashed around Sebau, who wheeled wildly to avoid them. The clouds thickened, and rumbled with a thunder that sounded hungry for battle.

“Hit him. Don’t play with him,” Ra said.

“Do you want to fight?” A wind, raised by Set’s will, whipped around them, throwing Sebau back and making it harder for him to fly. The barge shook and the sails whipped around so hard they looked as if they might tear.

The barge was huge, a long oval except at the tips where it tapered to a dull point. A rail of gold surrounded the wooden deck. A dozen sails propelled the ship through the sky. At times the entire compliment of deities had gathered on the ship to fight, with plenty of room. That was long ago, while the world was still new and charming to them, before they abandoned the defense of the sun to Set alone.

“Who’ll steer?”

“I can.” Set called the lightning again, stronger this time because of the denser clouds and struck Sebau in the chest, searing but not stopping him.

Ra moved possessively close to the wheel. “That’s more dangerous than Sebau.”

“Toying with me is a big mistake,” Sebau hissed. He caught the prow of the barge.

Set slashed twice, hitting both times but not hitting hard enough. Sebau caught hold with his other claw.

Set jumped from the sun barge.

“Where are you going?” Ra pulled hard to port in an effort to force Sebau to lose his hold on the barge. Sebau held fast.

Set landed on Sebau’s shoulder and plunged the sword straight into the clavicle between his shoulder and his neck.

“Ra! Liquid lightning! Now!” Set leapt free.

Ra turned. His red eyes flashed. Flames encompassed the sword, melting metal into the wound, down the shoulder and the throat. Sebau gurgled and clutched with one hand at his neck, while trying to retain his hold on the ship with the other.

Set landed, spun and drew lightning, supported by a solid mass of clouds, into the pool of steel. Sparks flashed. Sebau lost his grip and the sun barge lurched forward.

“You haven’t…beaten me.” Sebau clutched the wound. He spoke with obvious pain and effort. “Not this time. For I hold… dominance over… her now.”

“What do you mean?” Set grabbled for him but he tumbled back, out of range. “Explain yourself!”

Sebau vanished.

“That was far too easy for my liking,” Ra said. “He’s up to something.”

Set punched the rail.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were the one who kept the balance,” Ra steadied the sun back onto its proper course. “You usually want them to get away.”

“Not if Naomi is in danger.”

“Ooh, the little red-haired girl. It sounds like you’re really enjoying this little fling.” Ra glanced at his great-grandson with amusement in his eyes.

Set had long since given up any hope of disabusing the others of the notion that this was a ‘fling’. Some thought gods couldn’t love humans. Others, who knew better, thought Set incapable of anything as constant as love.

Ra knew better. “How do you know that’s who he meant?”

Set straightened his tie. “I’d better go check on her.”

“You’d better pick up a new sword first.”

---

Sweat soaked Sebau’s body even as he lay in the thick Alaskan snow, trying to numb the burning pain. He pulled mangled bits of steel from his neck and throat, each bringing with it skin, tissue, and blood. Devoid of allies he could trust not to take advantage of the situation and kill him, he was forced to tend his own wounds and if weren’t as strong or determined as he was, he probably would have lain down to die. No, that’s wasn’t quite true. It wasn’t strength or determination that kept him tearing bits of his own throat out with each piece of Set’s mangled sword, it was the sure knowledge that those same fools who would betray him today would bow down to him before this was over.

He stopped and let the snow beneath him cool him and soothe his wounds and to allow his healing magic to repair some of the damage. The wind whipped up around him, blowing snow everywhere. He turned his face in to it. It felt good. Above him, white clouds drifted past a great blue sky. He liked the snow, far more than the sand of the desert where he’d been born and where he still lived. Snow yielded to him. It crunched under his feet and melted at his touch.

He pulled the last of the metal from his neck and waited for the blood to stop and the wound to close. When he could breathe comfortably again, he sat up. He waited for the pain to pass before he picked up a handful of snow and gingerly let it melt in his mouth.

He stood. As much as he wanted to take the day and recover, there was still a lot of work to do. He willed himself to the Mortuary Temple of the Lost Gods on the west bank of the Nile in Upper Egypt. The monument, made of pure granite quarried at Aswan, stood almost fifty feet high. It was built in the three section architecture more typical of a temple for worship than a place to honor the dead though Sebau wasn’t sure if that was out of legacy or denial. The entrance led to a huge courtyard, which led to a thinner sanctuary where commoners could come to pray and give offerings. The last room was the holy of holies where the image of the gods resided.

Sebau walked into the courtyard. The sides were lined with clean white benches that alternated with well-tended and manicured bushes. The white stone gleamed in the sunlight. He hurried through into the sanctuary.

Fresh offerings stood on the altar. Hieroglyphs filled the walls, telling of the great deeds and marvelous wonders of the hapless fools who had been entombed here. Sebau spit on the offerings to the floor before proceeding to the entrance to the holy of holies.

Once the inner chamber would have been defended by its occupants, but he doubted they had enough strength to drive of a mouse anymore. Presumably defenses had been set up in their behalf. He studied the door.

He felt the energies of one spell, but it was too strong, like perfume in a bathroom, it was meant to overpower and mask the two spells beneath. The first would alert Horus that someone was here, and alert anyone here that they needed to step back as this was sacred ground. He could get around that by placing a refraction haze over the room to block all communications to or from the temple. He examined the second spell. That sent out a constant signal to another spell that would trigger a warning if it lost contact with this spell. Likewise, this spell would trigger a warning if it lost contact with the other.

Sebau glared at it in annoyance. If he had an ally they could simultaneously block both spots, but half the dragons couldn’t cast spells of such complexity and the ones who could were arrogant fools obedient to Apep. Nak would have been perfect for the job. His speed and reflexes were unparalleled, but his loyalty was to Apep and Apep alone. He wouldn’t be able to trust them until he toppled Apep and he wouldn’t be able to topple Apep until he gained his new toy. He wouldn’t be able to get his new toy until he had a means to manipulate Horus, he wouldn’t be able to manipulate Horus until he got into this room and apparently he wouldn’t be able to get into this room until he was able to trust the other dragons to assist in his plans. He didn’t like these endless circles.

He studied the outgoing signal. It was a simple enough one, a repeating message that effectively said, “Here I am” every ten seconds. He watched it long enough to be sure there wasn’t something he was missing. When he was satisfied that the signal was suitably straightforward, he set up a spell in the sanctuary, lined up with the one on the door, to send out that same message on the same interval. If he could time it right, the two signals would just enhance each other and when the inner one cut out, its partner would never know.

“Here I am.” Two. Three. Four. “Here I am.” Two. Three. Activate. “Here I am,” they sent in unison. No alarm went off.

Sebau erected his refraction haze and studied the door. There were no physical traps. Presumably no one wanted to risk damaging the idols within. He carefully picked the lock and slid open the door. Four statues stood on a dais inside. They all had the body of a man, but only one had the head of a man. One had the head of a falcon. One had the head of a jackal. The last had the head of a baboon. Sebau picked these, the last idols of these particular gods, up and examined them. They glared back at him. The baboon-headed one tried to make contact, presumably to threaten him, but lacked the strength. As he expected they were all too weak to do anything. He sent them to his cave in the Bakhu mountain range.

He closed and relocked the door, removed his refraction haze, and dismantled the signal he’d set up in the sanctuary. With any luck, no one would know the idols were gone until he was able to carry out the next part of his plan.

---

Set appeared amidst a warm wind in front of Naomi’s school to wait for her, just past the gate. A moment later he remembered to change to a human guise. It didn’t matter what he looked like. Naomi would know him in any form if he didn’t prevent her.

He toyed with the idea of appearing as a small child, an old woman, maybe a walking snowman, just for laughs. He chose to appear as a man about her age--twenty-three--with brown hair, green eyes, and a round, soft face with a mustache. For clothes, he opted for jeans and a T-shirt that read “Sleep is no substitute for caffeine”. Naomi was living that slogan this late in the semester. Everyone around him had bundled up in coats, scarves, gloves, and hats, but the cold didn’t affect him much. His power was enough to warm him. If anyone noticed that he wasn’t dressed for the weather, they didn’t spare him a second glance. On a lark, he went to a nearby Starbucks. The one on the north corner, not the one on the south corner (Naomi liked the drinks better from the one on the north corner) and bought her a latte.

Students oozed from the school alone, in pairs, or in small groups. Naomi didn’t so much walk out as drip out, alone, looking exhausted.

“Caffeine infusion?” He held out the cup.

She blinked at him, only recognizing him after a moment. She seemed confused and a bit concerned. She took the cup. “You do know that you’re going to burn a hole in my stomach.”

“It’s not my fault if Starbucks only has three sizes: huge, gigantic, and drown an elephant in the cup. Can I buy you lunch?”

“I suppose I’m too thin for your taste. At least we’re eating outside of class. What a novel idea. I need to pick up a book and the only bookstore that has it is the B&N on 22nd.”

“I know the one.” He willed them there. He could move instantly from place to place by riding the desert winds, which meant every time he did it, a warm breeze accompanied his comings and goings. Naomi turned her face into that breeze. If anyone noticed two people materialize out of thin air in front of the bookstore, no one reacted. Overloaded holiday shoppers huddled in their coats, buried their faces in their scarves to ward off the crisp winter air, and hurried along. That was one reason Set loved New York.

Naomi looked around for a moment to get her bearings. “Well, I suppose it saves time on the subway.”

“But you didn’t get serenaded by a homeless guy. And it’s time for Christmas carols too. Maybe I should serenade you.”

“Maybe I should go pick up my book.” She went inside. He turned her coffee invisible and followed. Never mind there was a Starbucks in the bookstore, they probably had a ‘no food or drink allowed’ policy. Kind of like a movie theater without the cloying fake butter smell.

She picked up her law textbook, which was big enough to double as a foot stool, and he snagged a copy of Shonen Jump. Blame Naomi–she likes all things Japanese and turned him on to that, bad horror movies, and sushi. How to Win a Girl in Ninety Days said to show an interest in what she’s interested in. He’d started implementing the plan more than ninety days ago and still hadn’t won the girl, but at least he picked up a few new hobbies.

He took the book from her after they left the store. She was either too exhausted to argue, or in no mood to carry a Buick. He wasn’t in the mood to carry a Buick either so he sent it to her place.

“On top of the microwave,” he told her. She simply nodded and sipped on her coffee, which should have looked odd since Set hadn’t turned it visible yet, but which hadn’t attracted so much as a backwards glance. She didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care.

Set led Naomi towards the streets. “Sometimes I think I could land the Barque of a Thousand Years on Broadway and no one would notice.”

Naomi didn’t answer.

“Well, maybe the cabbies would notice. I’d be holding up traffic.” He cupped his hand against his mouth and mimicked yelling out a car window. “Hey buddy, move that sun out of my way.”

She sipped her latte, but it made an empty slurping sound. She eyed it and made a face. It went, still invisible, into the trash can on the corner. The freak-out potential was there, but the city was in a “seen it all, done it all” sort of mood.

“You must be tired. You haven’t told me to get lost yet.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Would you?”

“No.”

“So why bother?” She picked up the pace and he hurried along after her.

They walked along the length of Madison Square Park. It was mostly snow-covered grass and benches, big enough to hold an occasion plant fair or for a circuit around the park to qualify as a pleasant lunchtime stroll. Off to one side was a small play area with slides and swings and such for the children. As they approached that they heard a scream, then a howl of pain, then a child wailing.

A crowd gathered around an adolescent boy who was sprawled on a patch of ice clutching his arm. He elbow was bent the wrong way and the arm hung limp.

A woman turned to the crowd and said, “Someone call 911. He needs an ambulance.”

“Do you have your cell phone?” Naomi asked.

“Naomi, I’m a god, remember?”

“You’re not going to…”

Set walked over and put his hand on the child’s back, between his shoulder blades. Naomi followed. Almost instantly the howls subsided to sobs as Set’s pain-block calmed the nerves around the break.

“You’re a brave guy, right?”

The boy nodded and wiped his eyes with his good hand. He was probably 13 or 14, just old enough to be out on his own, but not quite mature enough to know what to do in this kind of emergency. His eyes shone with as much fear as pain. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Set helped him to his feet. “What’s say I fix that?” He indicated Naomi. “Then she can sue the city on your behalf. There’s always a lawyer around when you need one.” The nerves fired and fired and Set caught and soothed each impulse. He was the strongest of the Egyptian gods, but for delicate work that was a handicap. He could fry the kid’s entire nervous system if he wasn’t careful.

The boy almost smiled. He nodded hesitantly. Set picked the child up and carried him to the nearest bench. He sat the child on the bench and knelt on the cold, hard ground in front of him. A crowd followed.

“Give me your arm.” Set held out his hand.

The boy pulled it in closer, defensively. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all. Do you know the song ‘Set and Naomi sittin’ in a tree’?”

The boy nodded. Naomi rolled her eyes. She looked so cute when she did that.

“Sing it three times. You’ll be fine by the time you’re done.” Set took the boy’s arm and felt the bone along the fracture. He closed his eyes and reached with his mind to see the problem. It was a clean break, right at the elbow. Set pulled the bone back into place. He opened his eyes and saw one woman bury her face in her hands.

“Don’t worry,” Naomi told her. “He can do some pretty amazing things.”

“And here I thought you weren’t impressed.”

Naomi shot him a dark look. “I’d be more impressed if you learned not to interrupt my finals.”

Set wrapped his hands around the boy’s elbow. They glowed red. The crowd gasped and pressed forward.

“Naomi.” Set’s face and voice were tight with strain. He held bits of bone, muscle and nerves in a raging vortex controlled only by his will. It was all so small. So fragile. Splitting his attention to speak was difficult. “Keep them back.” He balanced two delicate spells he wasn’t good at, shifting energy slowly, meticulously, between blocking the pain and healing the arm. It felt like steering a tornado through an obstacle course.

“Let’s give the man some room, people,” she said with what authority she could muster. “Move back.” She herded them a little bit away.

The first complication was that the break was at the elbow. If it was straight bone, the shaping would have been easier, but Set had to be careful to fix it so that it bent all the way forward, didn’t bend backwards, and didn’t rotate. The second complication was the boy hadn’t finished growing yet, so Set needed to make sure the arm would continue to grow after he fixed it.

He found one chipped off bit of bone and fitted it into place. Then he checked the shape he wanted the elbow to take by extending and bending the arm. This fired pain signals faster and he had to stop to sooth those. It was a design flaw in humans. Pain was intended as an attention-grabbing way of saying something’s wrong. There was no reason for it to continue after that wrongness was being handled but they never came up with a satisfactory way to determine that and shut it off. Too bad humans were so hard to upgrade. Thoth couldn’t exactly issue a bi-annual service patch.

Once he had the elbow properly in place he joined bone, and cartilage and muscle and healed the arm. With a sigh, Set released his spells and blinked a few times. His head swam. “Then comes Naomi with a baby carriage.”

“Can you make a fist?” Set asked. The boy showed him.

Set smiled. “Gimme five.” He held out his palm and the boy slapped it.

“You’re fixed. Go tell the council for the plaintiff what your settlement will be.”

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