“Isis,” Dr. Hassan breathed in a reverent whisper, and I knew he was right. It was the goddess herself. The one who inspired Amon’s spell that connected our hearts.
And she had…wings.
Isis didn’t seem to care about my desultory stare or my absolute lack of coming up with anything even remotely appropriate to say. I was thunderstruck. All I could do was stand in place and squeak. There was something special about her and it wasn’t simply because she was an immortal. She had a very different vibe from Anubis, who was dark and mysterious and with his inflated ego could come across as a temperamental sort of rock god. He was much more…human.
Isis was every inch the goddess. Power emanated from her. It was in her eyes, her bearing, and in every lithe flick of limb and wing. Maybe it was because she was more than a goddess. She was a sorceress, too, able to wield a kind of magic that intimidated even someone as powerful as Anubis. As she approached me, I felt a terrible, almost heady mix of awe and fear.
Her gossamer dress whispered around her form, her wings shifting before they folded up. When she spoke, her rich voice echoed in the room as if the wind were a jealous lover who desired to capture her words for himself and proclaim to all that she belonged only to him. A woman such as Isis could intimidate even my mother, and that was saying something.
“Hello,” the goddess said. “You must be Lilliana.”
“Lily,” I corrected her, and then bit my lower lip, realizing that was a terrible first impression I’d just made. I knew better than that. I’d spent my whole life being trained on how to speak to VIPs, even when I was nervous.
She didn’t seem to mind, though, and smiled. “Lily, then. Anubis has spoken of you frequently.” I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, and my mind began to make a list of the possible stories he could have told her. “Come,” she said. “Let me look at you.”
Immediately she stretched out her hands and I allowed her to take mine. Up close, her eyes were even more interesting. From afar, I’d noticed how they sparkled and the colors within shifted. But now that I stood within arm’s length, I could see the pinks, purples, and blues swirling like a storm cloud with an ominous, potentially deadly, menace hidden just behind the surface waiting to be unleashed. I’d hate to be the object of her wrath. Those unique eyes were fixed upon my face so intently that I wondered what she was looking for and what it was she was able to see.
“Hmm,” she said. “It is as Anubis thought. Amon did use my spell to connect the two of you. I must admit that I had my doubts. Between you and me, Anubis occasionally has a tendency toward exaggeration. But now I can see that he was correct and there is indeed no other recourse than to allow you to attempt the Rite of Wasret.”
“So that’s what will turn me into a sphinx?”
“If you are successful, then yes,” Isis answered.
“Will you be the one to give us the spell?”
“You’ve been able to pass through the test of the riddles, so you have earned the right to it.”
“And what will the spell…do to me exactly?”
The goddess brushed a lock of hair over my shoulder in a very motherly manner. “It will change you utterly, I imagine—that is, if you survive the transformation.”
Isis patted my cheek, turned, and headed back to the golden throne. She must have sensed that I found her answer unsatisfactory because she waved her hand and then added, “You will still be you…mostly. And if you wish it, you can reside among mortals without any of them being the wiser, if that is what concerns you. But make no mistake, this is the one and only way for you to save the one you love.”
I frowned, rehearsing the words attempt and mostly and survive in my mind. It wasn’t my vanity that prompted my question. The idea that I would become a beast, a monster, something…inhuman was frightening. But the minute she’d mentioned that it was the only way to save Amon, I knew I would go through with it regardless of the possible outcome.
Thinking of Amon meant that my awe and natural caution when engaging in conversation with someone who could bat me away like an irritating pest was replaced by uncertainty and frustration. This whole process was taking too long. Now that I’d decided I was going to do it, every moment we delayed made it more likely that the Devourer would find Amon and consume his heart.
I approached the throne. “If you had to give us the spell anyway, then why did you and Anubis make us come here? We wasted hours driving to Luxor and even more trying to figure out your cryptic riddles when you could have just given us the stupid spell in the first place.” I folded my arms across my chest. “It seems like all of you don’t really care that much about the possible end of the world, and you certainly don’t seem to be concerned about Amon or his suffering.”
“Lily!” Dr. Hassan stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder, his face showing the panic he felt. “Don’t forget to whom you are speaking.”
The goddess, settled once again, had listened to my accusations without a visible reaction of any kind. When I was finished, she raised an eyebrow and said, “Of course the possibility of the end of mankind concerns us. We have watched over the world for millennia and will continue to do so. It is our duty. It is our right. Though we have abilities that may seem omnipotent to a mortal such as you, there are restrictions placed upon each one of us. We have a procedure of, how do you say it”—she waved her hand, as if searching for the proper term—“checks and balances. Even we must follow the rules.” She said the last with a frown.
“Astounding,” Hassan murmured beside me.
“Yes,” she went on. “Before such rules were instated, the gods had the freedom to do as they wished. At times, due to poor judgment, this lack of structure caused great human suffering and casualties. It is necessary for us to monitor one another. After all, how could we guide mankind when our own houses were not in order?”
“But if you had laws, then why was Seth able to kill your husband? Is it because there weren’t any directives telling him otherwise at the time?” I questioned.
“Most of our laws have to do with interfering in the mortal world. Seth’s actions represented the first time a god attacked another of his own kind. Seth was…reprimanded after killing my husband, but the council of the gods ultimately decided that because I had defied the natural order by re-creating Osiris, a mild punishment for Seth was sufficient. However, after his attempted murder of my son, Horus, coupled with his attempt to enslave humankind during the Sons of Egypt’s mortal lifetime, all of the gods agreed to his banishment and entered into a pact to follow a set of guidelines we call the Celestial Laws.”
Ebullient energy spilling out of him, Dr. Hassan queried, “Might there be a record of this list of Celestial Laws?”
“Not one you can access. The laws are written in the stars themselves, and as they always shine down upon us, they tend to tattle when one of the gods attempts anything considered inappropriate. Only a few of us are able to hear their whispers. No mortal has ever developed the talent for it.”
Dr. Hassan’s face fell. He’d looked like a child headed to an ice cream store, his eyes sparkling with possibilities, only to find that the store had closed. Still, the determined gleam soon returned and I was certain that if there was a way for a mortal to discern the language of the stars and learn the laws of the cosmos, then he would find it.
As for me, I wasn’t sure what to make of stars that spied on gods and mortals alike. It didn’t make sense. Then again, gods and monsters, and pretty much everything else I’d seen since I met Amon, didn’t make sense either.
Curious, I asked, “So. You defied the order. How?”
Isis gave me a sly smile. “I bent the rules.” She paused, as if waiting for me to show appreciation for her cleverness. “I enlisted Anubis to help remake my husband, an act that was forbidden by the council, but because I merged his form with that of the crocodile that devoured him, he was not wholly Osiris. He was altogether new. Osiris was still mine, as much himself
as ever, and yet even they couldn’t deny the evidence that his form was changed. And so they allowed it.”
More than ready to end our conversation, I asked, “Will you tell me how to do it? How to get into the afterlife, I mean?”
Isis narrowed her eyes and shook out her wing before tucking it back behind her again. “Even should I be inclined to help you, Amun-Ra would likely cause you more grief if he knew I was on your side. Better we should concentrate on one thing at a time, don’t you agree?”
“I…I suppose.”
“You must understand that to even be able to approach Amun-Ra, you’ll have to pass through the trial first.”
“Trial? I thought we’d passed all the riddles.”
“The riddles aren’t the trial. They’re merely the first of several auditions. You have now earned the opportunity to attempt the rite. Survive that, and then you can worry about Amun-Ra.”
“Fine. So what exactly do I have to do next?”
“Patience. To understand the Rite of Wasret, you’ll need to understand why I created it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You created it?”
“Yes. It’s a spell I’m very proud of, despite its original outcome. It was one the gods hadn’t anticipated. Thus all the rules and riddles that are now associated with it.”
“All right. Then tell me.”
As she shifted a bit on her throne, I got the impression that the goddess was uncomfortable. She smoothed her skirt and let out a sigh before continuing. “I created it to change a mortal—a handmaiden of mine—who I could not bear to part with when she was terminally injured. I conspired with my sister Sekhmet”—she gestured to the cat statue soldiers lining the room—“to gift her with immortality. Once the spell was done, the others discovered our use of magic.
“To prevent inexpert attempts at imitation and to control any future ideas of repeating the act that I might entertain, the Room of Riddles was created. Its purpose was to ascertain the worthiness of those who sought the same gift. Of course, no other human has successfully breached the room, until you. Most who stumbled upon the room were so distracted by the treasure only to find that to set hands upon it led to their untimely deaths.”
“You underestimate mortal curiosity,” Dr. Hassan posed as he shifted his hat between his hands anxiously. “There are those of us who seek far more than treasure.”
“Yes. There are a few, but not many with your talents, Vizier. When the devoted, such as yourself, attempted to access the secret rite and failed, they were also disposed of.”
“So the other gods were unhappy about your servant’s transformation?” I asked.
A tinge of sadness stole over her lovely features. “They are not as open-minded about things as I am,” she said. “They believe that the state we are born into is the only state we should aspire to. If it wasn’t for me, the Sons of Egypt wouldn’t exist. I was the one who convinced the gods to act and reward the three worthy mortals with our power. If we hadn’t done so, we would be forced to intervene and manage Seth ourselves. Such an act would eventually drain us of our energies, leaving us unable to see to our duties.”
Isis smiled, as if I would completely understand her point of view. The indifference I sensed from her toward the things Amon and his brothers had to endure set me on edge. “So you are the one who made it so that Asten, Amon, and Ahmose have to die over and over again? They can’t fall in love or be husbands or fathers or have a normal life because of you? It’s unfair to task them with cleaning up your messes just because it’s inconvenient to you! Did you even ask them if that’s what they wanted?”
The goddess cocked her head. The corner of her mouth was upturned either because she considered what I said funny or because she thought I was a curious sort of bug that needed to be squashed. Either way, I was offended. I could feel righteous anger pumping through my veins.
“The Sons of Egypt were given a choice. They could depart for the afterlife and await their kin, or they could return for admittedly brief periods of time to serve the gods. They chose the latter.”
“I don’t think they really understood what it was you were asking of them.”
“Do you, Lily? Do you understand what is being asked of you? Or are you willing to change the very fiber of your being in order to save those you love?” I squirmed a bit under her gaze but kept my chin raised in an effort of defiance. “I can see your heart, young one, just as I could see theirs. They were worthy of the gift. Whether you call it a blessing or a curse is immaterial. They were willing, and we found a use for them.”
“Just like you used your handmaid?”
Anger shot through Isis’s features but the signs of it quickly disappeared. “You know not of what you speak. Baniti was dying. It was painful. When I made her a sphinx, I meant it to be a gift for a beloved handmaid.”
“What…what happened to her?” I asked.
“Baniti couldn’t come to accept her new life. She didn’t have the heart for it. You see, a sphinx is dual-hearted in nature. Her mind fragmented, and she could not reconcile the woman she’d been with the creature she needed to embrace. The stories of a sphinx devouring men are true, though it wasn’t because they couldn’t solve her riddle. Hunters chased her, cornered her in caves.
“She was nearly wild, feral; any humanity remaining was eclipsed by the beast. Her only option was to lash out. And when she smelled blood, her other half took over. She was horrified by what she was and eventually sought her own end, though death, except under very rare circumstances, was no longer an option. Finally, unable to care for her on my own, I approached the council, confessed what I had done, and awaited their decision. They granted what she sought. Her own death.”
“Then why keep the rite at all? Why not eradicate all evidence that it had ever been done?”
“Because,” she answered simply, “the stars said we’d need it.”
“What are you saying?” Dr. Hassan asked. “The stars knew about Lily?”
“Not about Lily, no, but we dare not question what the stars have seen. That might mean Lily is the reason. It might mean something else or someone else. It might mean nothing. The things the stars whisper are not always clear. But whatever the case, the gods opted not to erase all evidence of the spell, just in case the stars were right.”
“Yeah. Well.” I kicked a pebble with my golden sandal. “All that matters to me is saving Amon. I don’t appreciate that all these little rituals of yours take so long.”
“Ah, Lily. How little your mortal eyes see. If we were to forsake the rituals, we would be sending you unprepared toward a certain doom. Each step you take is necessary. Every hurdle makes you stronger. Tempered steel is not easily broken. You must believe we are giving you your best chance. Remember that even in the netherworld, there are certain rules and limitations.”
“Like the one that says you aren’t allowed to go and intervene.”
“Correct. Try not to worry much; if the Devourer had him in her clutches, we would know. And even so, the process of draining him is not a quick thing. She would take her time. Because of this, I want you to understand the importance of what you are undertaking. This spell is not an easy one. You will be tested, and even if you are successful, you will need some time to acclimate to your new self. You must be firm of mind. Fix your gaze on your goal. And above all else, you must open your heart. Otherwise you may lose yourself, much like my handmaid, Baniti.”
“And you’re sure this is the only way to save him?”
“It is the only way I know.”
Swallowing, I nodded. “Then let’s see if we can do something to help him.”
The wings of the goddess fluttered and she smiled. “Vizier, are you ready to receive the spell?”
“Yes,” he answered. “I have one question before we get started, though.”
“And what is that?”
“Why Wasret? Shouldn’t the rite be named for your handmaid, Baniti, instead?”
“What do you know of W
asret?” Isis asked.
“I know she was a goddess of Egypt with most of her worshippers centered at Thebes. I know she was charged to protect your young son, Horus, and that she’s rumored to be Amun-Ra’s first wife.”
“Hmm. It’s interesting how the truths get mixed together until they become almost unrecognizable. The reference to my son was indeed Baniti. She was his nursemaid as a boy. He considered her a second mother and was nearly inconsolable at her death. The reason Thebes is a part of the story is because that is the city where she was born and it is the city where I honored her death, creating a temple guarded by sphinx statues. But these references are for Baniti, not Wasret.
“You see, Wasret, the person rumored to be Amun-Ra’s first wife, the person for whom this rite remained on earth, is a person who hadn’t even been born at the time her name was inscribed on the wall. It is the name the stars have whispered to us over the eons.”
“Then the inscriptions we’ve discovered that speak of Wasret are about two different people,” Dr. Hassan murmured.
Isis admired a sparkling ring around her finger as she inquired of Dr. Hassan, “You found two versions of the sphinx carved upon these walls, did you not?”
“Yes. We did,” he admitted.
“They do not represent two different types of sphinx but two different individuals. One was Baniti, born and died thousands of years ago, and the other, Wasret, stands next to you now. Assuming, of course, that Lily is indeed the one we’ve been waiting for.”
I held up a hand. “Wait a second. You’re saying I am, or could be, Wasret? The goddess woman Dr. Hassan described?”
“That is exactly what I am saying.”
“So have you suspected this about me all this time? Known who I am and what I was supposed to do?”
“Like I said, we’ve known that there would come a time when the spell might be needed. We just didn’t know when until the circumstances presented themselves. Until the moment Amon entered the netherworld, we did not expect you to be anything other than a mortal dalliance.”
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