“Who’s coming back?”
She looked at me urgently. “The thing I needed to tell you—the thing you need. It’s Set’s secret name.”
The storm surged. Thunder crackled and the truck shuddered in the wind.
“H-hold on,” I stammered. “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...” My voice trailed off as a horrible thought occurred to me. “Or from the person closest to him.”
Zia shut 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,” I said, “Nephthys. You were there too at the British Museum.”
Zia looked 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 shook her head stubbornly. “But he didn’t take me away. I’m right her
e. 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 had a point—but then another terrible thought occurred to me. “Unless Set is controlling him,” I said.
“Carter, are you really so blind? Desjardins is not Set.”
“Because you think it’s Amos,” I said. “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...?”
I hesitated. “Amos told us.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” Zia said. “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 shook her head, looking almost as frustrated as I felt. “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 slowed abruptly. Out the front windshield, about twenty yards ahead, a man in a blue coat was standing in our headlights. It was Amos. His clothes were tattered like he’d been sprayed with a shotgun, but otherwise he looked okay. Before the truck had even stopped completely, I jumped out of the cab and ran to meet him.
“Amos!” I cried. “What happened?”
“I distracted Sekhmet,” he said, putting 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,” I started to explain, but Amos held up his hand.
“Time for explanations later,” he said. “Right now we have to get going.”
He pointed northwest, and I saw what he meant. The storm was worse up ahead. A lot worse. A wall of black blotted out the night sky, the mountains, the highway, as if it would swallow the whole world.
“Set’s storm is gathering,” Amos said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Shall we drive into it?”
S A D I E
35. Men Ask for Directions (and Other Signs of the Apocalypse)
I DON’T KNOW HOW I MANAGED IT with Carter and Zia yammering, but I got some sleep in the back of the truck. Even after the excitement of seeing Amos alive, as soon as we got going again I was back in the bunk and drifting off. I suppose a good ha-di spell can really take it out of you.