Horus

Carter summons his father's magic toolkit out of Duat and takes the ugly shabti out of it. "Doughboy, we need to talk."

Doughboy opens his wax eyes. ""Finally! You realize how stuffy it is in there? At last you've remembered that you need my brilliant guidance."

"Actually we need you to become a coat. Just for a while."

His tiny mouth falls open. "Do I look like an article of clothing? I am the lord of all knowledge! The mighty—"

Carter smashes him into his jacket, wads it up, throws it on the pavement and steps on it. "Zia, what's that spell?"

She tells him the words, and Carter repeats the chant. The coat inflates and hovers in front of us. It brushes itself off and ruffles its collar. If coats can look indignant, this one sure does.

Sadie eyes it suspiciously. "Can it drive a lorry with no feet for the pedals?"

"Shouldn't be a problem," Zia said. "It's a nice long coat."

Carter sighs with relief. The image of him having to animate his pants float throughout the mindspace.

That could get awkward.

"Drive us to Phoenix," He tells the coat.

The coat lifts it sleeve (hand?) towards Carter and floats into the driver's seat.

The cab is bigger than it looks. Behind the seat is a curtained area with a fill-size bed, which Sadie claims immediately.

"I'll let you and Zia have some quality time," she tells Carter. "Just the two of you and your coat."

She ducks behind the curtain before he can smack her.

The coat drives us west on I-10 as a bank of dark clouds swallow the stars. The air smells like rain.

After a long time, Zia clears her throat. "Carter, I'm sorry about...I mean, I wish the circumstances were better."

"Yeah," Carter says. "I guess you'll get in a lot of trouble with the House."

"I will be shunned. My staff broken. My name blotted from the books. I'll be cast into exhile, assuming they don't kill me."

There is no regret or sadness in her voice. Zia sounds almost confused, as if she herself can't figure out why she is rebelling or what the First Nome means to her. She'd told Carter Iskandar was like her only family.

Now she has no one.

"You could come with us." Carter says.

Zia glances over at him.

We are sitting so close together. Does she realize her shoulder is pressing against mine? Does she care? Even with the reek of burned peppers on both of us, I can still smell her Egyptian perfume. She has a dried chili stuck in her hair. God, somehow that makes her look even cuter.

"Where would we go, Carter? Even if you defeat Set and save this continent, what will you do? The House will hunt you down. The gods will make your life miserable."

That's some faith she has in us.

"We'll figure it out," Carter promises. "I'm used to traveling. I'm good at improvising, and Sadie's not all bad."

"I heard that!" Sadie's muffled voice comes through the curtain.

"And with you," Carter continues, "I mean, you know, with your magic, things would be easier."

Zia squeezes his hand, which sends a tingle up his arm. "You're kind, Carter. But you don't know me. Not really. I suppose Iskandar saw this coming."

"What do you mean?"

Zia takes her hand away. "When Desjardins and I came back from the British Museum, Iskandar spoke to me privately. He said I was in danger. He said he would take me somewhere safe and..." Her eyebrows knit together. "That's odd. I don't remember."

Carter looks at her curiously. It's like all the missing pieces of the puzzle are finally clicking together.

"Wait, did he take you somewhere safe?"

"I...I think so." She shakes her head. "No, he couldn't have, obviously. I'm still here. Perhaps he didn't have time. He sent me to find you in New York almost immediately."

Outside, a light rain begins to fall. The coat turns on our windshield wipers. Zia stares into the rain as if she was seeing monsters in the dark outside.

"We're running out of time," she says. "He's coming back."

"Who's coming back?"

She looks at Carter urgently. "The thing I needed to tell you—the thing you need. It's Set's secret name."

The storm surges. Thunder crackles. The truck shudders in the wind.

"H-hold on," Carter stammers. "How could you know Set's name? How did you even know we needed it?"

"You stole Desjardins' book. Desjardins told us about it. He said it didn't matter. He said you could not use the spell without Set's secret name, which is impossible to get."

"So how do you know it? Thoth said it could only come from Set himself, or from the person..." Carter's voice trails off. I can feel the gears turning inside his head. "Or from the person closest to him."

Zia shuts her eyes as if in pain. "I—I can't explain it, Carter. I just have this voice telling me the name—"

"The fifth goddess," Carter says, "Nephthys. You were there too at the British Museum."

Zia looks completely stunned. "No. That's impossible."

"Iskandar said you were in danger. He wanted to take you somewhere safe. That's what he meant. You're a godling."

She shakes her head stubbornly. "But he didn't take me away. I'm right here. If I were hosting a god, the other magicians of the House would've figured it out days ago. They know me too well. They would've noticed the changes in my magic. Desjardins would've destroyed me."

She has a point.

"Unless Set is controlling him," Carter says.

"Carter, are you really so blind? Desjardins is not Set."

"Because you think it's Amos. Amos who risked his life to save us, who told us to keep going without him. Besides, Set doesn't need a human form. He's using the pyramid."

"Which you know because...?"

Carter hesitates. "Amos told us."

"This is getting us nowhere," Zia says. "I know Set's secret name, and I can tell you. But you must promise you will not tell Amos."

"Oh, come on. Besides, if you know the name, why can't you just use it yourself?"

She shakes her head, looking almost as frustrated as Carter is. "I don't know why...I just know it's not my role to play. It must be you or Sadie—blood of the pharaohs. If you don't—"

The truck slows abruptly. Out the front windshield, about twenty yards ahead, a man in a blue coat is standing in our headlights. Amos. His clothes are tattered like he's been sprayed with a shotgun, but otherwise he looks okay. Before the truck has even stopped completely, Carter jumps out of the cab and runs to meet him.

"Amos!" he cries. "What happened?"

"I distracted Sekhmet," Amos says. He puts a finger through one of the holes in his coat. "For about eleven seconds. I'm glad to see you survived."

"There was a salsa factory," Carter starts to explain, but Amos holds up his hand.

"Time for explanations later," he says. "Right now we have to get going."

He points northwest. The storm is worse up ahead. A lot worse. A wall of black blots out the night sky, the mountains, the highway, as if it will swallow the whole world.

"Set's storm is gathering," Amos says with a weird twinkle in his eyes. "Shall we drive into it?"