Horus
resist. How can Zia say that? I'm resisting like crazy, but it doesn't do me any good. All I can do is stare helplessly as Set lowers his face to Zia's and examines her.
At first Set seems triumphant, gleeful, but his expression quickly turns to confusion. He scowls, his eyes flaring.
"What trick is this?" he growls. "Where have you hidden her?"
"You will not possess her," Zia manages, her breath choked off by his grip.
"Where is she?" He throws Zia aside.
She slams against the wall and would've slid into the moat, but Sadie yells "Wind!" and a gust of air lifts Zia's body just enough for her to tumble onto the floor.
Sadie runs over and drags her away from the glowing trench.
Set roars, "Is this your trickery, Isis?"
He sends another blast of sandstorm against them, but Sadie holds up her wand. The storm meets a shield of force that deflects the wind around it. The sand pits the walls behind Sadie, making a halo-shaped scar in the rock.
I don't understand what Set is so angry about, but I can't allow him to hurt Sadie.
She's all alone right now, protecting Zia from the wrath of a god. Something inside me clicks, like an engine setting into higher gear. My thinking is suddenly faster and clearer. The anger and fear don't go away, maybe they never will. But I realized they aren't important. They are not going to help me save my sister.
Don't resist. Zia didn't mean resisting Set. She meant Horus! We've been wrestling with each other for days as he tries to take control of my body. But neither of us can be in control. That's the answer! We have to act in unison, trust each other completely, or we are both dead.
"Yes!"
And so I stop pushing. I stop resisting, letting our thoughts flow together. He understands my power, my memories, my fears, sees every host I've ever been over a thousands lifetimes. And I see his mind, all seals breaking down. Even the ones the House had built. Carter will have some interesting forgotten memories to sort through once all this is over.
It's a weird feeling, one I haven't felt in eons. An union like this is rare, like the one time when the coin doesn't land heads or tails, but stands on its edge, perfectly balanced. I don't control him. He doesn't use me for power. We act as one.
Our voices speak in harmony: "Now."
And the magic bonds that hold us shatter.
Our combat avatar forms around us, lifting us off the floor and encasing us with golden energy. We step forward and raise our sword. The falcon warrior mimicks the movement, perfectly attuned to our wishes.
Set turns and regards us with cold eyes.
"So, Horus," he says. "You managed to find the pedals of your little bike, eh? That does not mean you can ride."
"I am Carter Kane," we say. "Blood of the Pharaohs, Eye of Horus. And now, Set—brother, uncle, traitor—I'm going to crush you like a gnat."