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Molly. C'mon."
    I wasn't losing courage. (I didn’t have any to begin with, I was sorry to say.) I was gaining fear, and fast. I let Rath pull me along, but I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see anymore.
    "It's him," said Rath. "He projects fear. It's how Set controls you, controls everyone."
    "It's not affecting you," I said.
    "Yeah. It is." Rath gripped my hand tighter. "I only feel brave because you're here with me."
    "You mean, because I'm the daughter of a god, and that gives you security?"
    "No, Molly. Because you're you. You don't give up. Especially when it comes to the people you love. That's where my faith lies. With you."
                  It wasn't the right time for an "aw" moment, but I hoped that if we survived this, I would have plenty of "aw" moments with Rath. We didn't really have anyone left except each other. Okay, that wasn’t exactly fair, I know. Still, it felt that way.
                  Loss was a burden almost too heavy to bear.
                  I’d had enough of it, enough of it all. I wanted it to end. And the only way to do that, the only way to protect those who were left, was to make sure Set never, ever got out. I sucked in a deep breath, filled my lungs with the fetid air of this poisonous place, and let Rath lead me closer to the cage that imprisoned Set.
    The cage was its own atrocity. Made of bones—bones of the old gods, just like The Secret History of Reapers had described. They looked like dinosaur bones, large and pitted, smudged with dark red goop. I shuddered. I didn’t even want to think about what that stuff was. Blech! The cage didn't really have a door--at least not one that I could see. Of course, why would something meant to be an eternal prison have a door?
    The creature inside the cage screamed again. It was a terrible sound, one of longing and rage, and it zapped me right down to my soul. Fear was lightning in my heart, ice in my blood. But I had Rath and his faith, and I had no choice. Kebechet. Right. I wished the word, the idea of it, gave me more comfort, but all I really felt was utterly afraid.
    Rath pulled us behind a large outcropping of black, jagged rocks.
    The drumbeats and the sounds of chanting rose up, blending with the yells of Set. Set was terror personified. In Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, he looked less scary. With the head of an anteater, the horns of giraffe, and the body of a mutant dog, he was snarling and snapping and squealing. He was dressed in ragged, singed clothing. He was huge ... the biggest, most terrifying monster I'd ever seen. This wasn't a late-night horror show, though, this was real. If Set got to the earthly plane in that form—no one would survive.
    The whole world would be destroyed.
    "Look," said Rath. He pointed to a box that sat in front of the cage. The obsidian box was as big as a coffee table, and the marble sides gleamed in the dancing shadows of the fires rimming Set’s cage.
    "Well, that’s not good," I said. I couldn't begin to calculate how many souls would fit into that container. Thousands. Maybe millions. Surely, Set's followers hadn't been able to fill that thing. It wouldn't be possible. Would it? I went completely still and cold. "How did they get souls for it?" I asked.
    Rath glanced at me.
    We heard creaking and cracking, and Set’s mournful cries turned to triumphant sounds.
    The cage exploded.

 
     
     
    Molly’s Reaper Diary
    Portents, Visions, Symbols, Signs, and Dreams
     
    A S A REAPER-IN-TRAINING, you may have visions, déjà a vu, and nightmares. How can you tell the difference between a nightmare that’s warning you about impending doom and an embarrassing dream where you show up naked to Algebra class? Either one could be a vision of the future, but you should probably pay attention to the one that has fire, screaming, and explosions.
    Symbols and signs will pop up, too—in your life and in your drea ms. Portents are ways that the gods or other supernatural