But the way Desjardins saved all those people on the plane-that just didn’t seem like something the Lord of Evil would do.

Bast and Khufu took turns driving while Sadie and I dozed off and on. I didn’t know baboons could drive recreational vehicles, but Khufu did okay. When I woke up around dawn, he was navigating through early morning rush hour in Houston, baring his fangs and barking a lot, and none of the other drivers seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

For breakfast, Sadie, Bast, and I sat in the RV’s kitchen while the cabinets banged open and the dishes clinked and miles and miles of nothing went by outside. Bast had snagged us some snacks and drinks (and Friskies, of course) from a New Orleans all-night convenience store before we left, but nobody seemed very hungry. I could tell Bast was anxious. She’d already shredded most of the RV’s upholstery, and was now using the kitchen table as a scratching post.

As for Sadie, she kept opening and closing her hand, staring at the feather of truth as if it were a phone she wished would ring. Ever since her disappearance in the Hall of Judgment, she’d been acting all distant and quiet. Not that I’m complaining, but it wasn’t like her.

“What happened with Anubis?” I asked her for the millionth time.

She glared at me, ready to bite my head off. Then she apparently decided I wasn’t worth the effort. She fixed her eyes on the glowing feather that hovered over her palm.

“We talked,” she said carefully. “He asked me some questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Carter, don’t ask. Please.”

Please? Okay, that really wasn’t like Sadie.

I looked at Bast, but she wasn’t any help. She was slowly gouging the Formica to bits with her claws.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

She kept her eyes on the table. “In the Land of the Dead, I abandoned you. Again.”

“Anubis startled you,” I said. “It’s no big deal.”

Bast gave me the big yellow eyes, and I got the feeling I’d only made things worse.

“I made a promise to your father, Carter. In exchange for my freedom, he gave me a job even more important than fighting the Serpent: protecting Sadie-and if it ever became necessary, protecting both of you.”

Sadie flushed. “Bast, that’s…I mean, thank you and all, but we’re hardly more important than fighting…you know, him.”

“You don’t understand,” Bast said. “The two of you are not just blood of the pharaohs. You’re the most powerful royal children to be born in centuries. You’re the only chance we have of reconciling the gods and the House of Life, of relearning the old ways before it’s too late. If you could learn the path of the gods, you could find others with royal blood and teach them. You could revitalize the House of Life. What your parents did-everything they did, was to prepare the way for you.”

Sadie and I were silent. I mean, what do you say to something like that? I guessed I’d always felt like my parents loved me, but willing to die for me? Believing it was necessary so Sadie and I could do some amazing world-saving stuff? I didn’t ask for that.

“They didn’t want to leave you alone,” Bast said, reading my expression. “They didn’t plan on it, but they knew releasing the gods would be dangerous. Believe me, they understood how special you are. At first I was protecting you two because I promised. Now even if I hadn’t promised, I would. You two are like kittens to me. I won’t fail you again.”

I’ll admit I got a lump in my throat. I’d never been called someone’s kitten before.

Sadie sniffled. She brushed something from under her eye. “You’re not going to wash us, are you?”

It was good to see Bast smile again. “I’ll try to resist. And by the way, Sadie, I’m proud of you. Dealing with Anubis on your own-those death gods can be nasty customers.”

Sadie shrugged. She seemed strangely uncomfortable. “Well, I wouldn’t call him nasty. I mean, he looked hardly more than a teenager.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. “He had the head of a jackal.”

“No, when he turned human.”

“Sadie…” I was starting to get worried about her now. “When Anubis turned human he still had the head of a jackal. He was huge and terrifying and, yeah, pretty nasty. Why, what did he look like to you?”

Her cheeks reddened. “He looked…like a mortal guy.”

“Probably a glamour,” Bast said.

“No,” Sadie insisted. “It couldn’t have been.”

“Well, it’s not important,” I said. “We got the feather.”

Sadie fidgeted, as if it was very important. But then she closed her fist, and the feather of truth disappeared. “It won’t do us any good without the secret name of Set.”

“I’m working on that.” Bast’s gaze shifted around the room-she seemed afraid of being overheard. “I’ve got a plan. But it’s dangerous.”

I sat forward. “What is it?”

“We’ll have to make a stop. I’d rather not jinx us until we get closer, but it’s on our way. Shouldn’t cause much of a delay.”

I tried to calculate. “This is the morning of the second Demon Day?”

Bast nodded. “The day Horus was born.”

“And Set’s birthday is tomorrow, the third Demon Day. That means we have about twenty-four hours until he destroys North America.”

“And if he gets his hands on us,” Sadie added, “he’ll ramp up his power even more.”

“It’ll be enough time,” Bast said. “It’s roughly twenty-four hours driving from New Orleans to Phoenix, and we’ve already been on the road over five hours. If we don’t have any more nasty surprises-”

“Like the kind we have every day?”

“Yes,” Bast admitted. “Like those.”

I took a shaky breath. Twenty-four hours and it would be over, one way or the other. We’d save Dad and stop Set, or everything would’ve been for nothing-not just what Sadie and I had done, but all our parents’ sacrifices too. Suddenly I felt like I was underground again, in one of those tunnels in the First Nome, with a million tons of rock over my head. One little shift in the ground, and everything would come crashing down.

“Well,” I said. “If you need me, I’ll be outside, playing with sharp objects.”

I grabbed my sword and headed for the back of the RV.

I’d never seen a mobile home with a porch before. The sign on the back door warned me not to use it while the vehicle was in motion, but I did anyway.

It wasn’t the best place to practice swordplay. It was too small, and two chairs took up most of the space. The cold wind whipped around me, and every bump in the road threw me off balance. But it was the only place I could go to be alone. I needed to clear my thoughts.

I practiced summoning my sword from the Duat and putting it back. Soon I could do it almost every time, as long as I kept my focus. Then I practiced some moves-blocks, jabs, and strikes-until Horus couldn’t resist offering his advice.

Lift the blade higher, he coached. More of an arc, Carter. The blade is designed to hook an enemy’s weapon.

Shut up, I grumbled. Where were you when I needed help on the basketball court? But I tried holding the sword his way and found he was right.

The highway wound through long stretches of empty scrubland. Once in a while we’d pass a rancher’s truck or a family SUV, and the driver would get wide-eyed when he saw me: a black kid swinging a sword on the back of an RV. I’d just smile and wave, and Khufu’s driving soon left them in the dust.

After an hour of practice, my shirt was stuck to my chest with cold sweat. My breathing was heavy. I decided to sit and take a break.

“It approaches,” Horus told me. His voice sounded more substantial, no longer in my head. I looked next to me and saw him shimmering in a golden aura, sitting back in the other deck chair in his leather armor with his sandaled feet up on the railing. His sword, a ghostly copy of my sword, was propped next to him.

“What’s approaching?” I asked. “The fight with Set?”