Reignited: A Companion to the Reawakened Series Page 9

  As she concluded her spell, Isis smiled and Osiris thought she’d never looked so lovely or radiant. “Is it done, then?” he asked.

  “Almost. There is just one more piece and then we will be yoked together eternally, bound in such a way that not even the stars will be able to separate us.”

  “What must I do?” Osiris asked softly.

  “You must take my heart into your own and then I will tell you my secret name.”

  “You will do this, too?” he asked.

  She nodded, her eyes bright. What she was asking him harnessed the most primal magic. To know someone’s true name was to have complete power over them. It required an unflinching level of trust in another person and was unlike any other commitment in the heavens or beneath it. Any dereliction of honor, any breach of loyalty, even a tiny moment of waning courage or selfishness would cause great suffering for both of them. After they did this, the two of them would be able to see into one another’s hearts and understand each other wholly, both the good and the bad.

  Osiris didn’t hesitate. He cupped her heart in his hand and placed it over his chest. Amethyst light burst from the gemstone as it sank into his frame and disappeared, its wings fluttering slightly as it burrowed into him and settled next to his own heart. Isis repeated the process with the golden scarab. As it eased into its new position, Isis caught the rich scents of the forest and of distant fields of grain.

  Isis reached out her hands and Osiris took them, drawing her close. Just as the dark sky began to lighten they whispered their secret names to one another and the world tilted on its axis.

  They were one.

  They were unbreakable.

  They were yoked in a bond that would last for eternity.

  In the circle of each other’s arms they stood for minutes or hours or millennia. They didn’t know how long they remained rooted in place, gazes fixed upon one another. They didn’t care, for in the shadows of Isis’s wings all was still and silent.

  Then Osiris kissed her and the world around them exploded.

  Chapter 6

  Threshing

  All at once, the great star of the sky, the all-seeing sun, cast its light over the mountain, and the impact of what they’d done was immediately felt. The mountaintop shook as Geb trembled in fear, causing an earthquake that almost broke apart the towering monoliths of the immense adder stone they stood upon.

  The whispering of the stars became shouts. And the goddess Nut gathered the skirts of her clouds and drew them to her face, veiling herself as her giant teardrops fell upon all of Duat. Enormous tree limbs shifted their branches and hid in the shadows of one another, as if ashamed to have been caught shielding the couple.

  From where they stood, clutching one another and gazing up into the heavens, Isis and Osiris could see the alteration they’d caused in the celestial law written among the stars. The shining orbs above, hidden by the light of the sun from all but the gods themselves, shifted and reorganized themselves, forming new constellations and groupings to allow for the spell Isis had wrought.

  Both of them heard the summons that pealed through the sky like the call of a shrieking raptor. It was the time for reckoning, for Amun-Ra knew what had come to pass. Osiris squeezed his new wife’s hand. “We must go.”

  Clutching her fingers, he turned to leave but paused when she drew back and pulled away. “They are distraught,” she said, referring to the stars.

  “We knew they would be.”

  The two of them looked up as the stars realigned. Some stars were extinguished while new stars ignited, bursting into glorious existence, their light burning bright as if to announce to anyone who glanced heavenward what Isis and Osiris had done.

  Isis turned her gaze to her new husband and was troubled to see the worry on his face. “Do you regret it?” she asked, slightly afraid of his response.

  Osiris touched his forehead to hers. “No, Little One. My only regret is that we must now face our elders instead of celebrating the vows we have made this night.”

  Isis nodded, relieved at his answer, and all the love she felt for her him showed in the softness of her smile.

  When Osiris started to make his way down the mountain, Isis took hold of his hand. “We are one now. Come. Fly with me.”

  Isis stretched out her wings and placed her hand on his heart. “Feel the strength of my wings in the heart scarab you carry,” she said, and then, with a powerful thrust, Isis rose into the air.

  Closing his eyes, Osiris sought out the second heart that beat within, the small amethyst that belonged to the one he had claimed, and embraced the surge of power he found there. The golden wings stirred in his chest. When he opened his eyes, to his delight, he was airborne, floating high above the mountain where Isis waited for him.

  “Just think of me,” she called out across the expanse of sky, “and your heart will bring you to mine.”

  The connection between them was amazing. It was unlike anything Osiris had ever felt before. Not only did he share in her power, he could now read her thoughts. Isis was hesitant to confront Amun-Ra, but she was not ashamed of their union. In fact, she was proud to belong to him. That she’d been able to accomplish a spell of such magnitude was startling, and yet it pleased her. A part of Isis longed to cast other spells that she’d been too apprehensive to attempt in the past.

  As he explored her thoughts further, he realized just how dangerous a union such as theirs had been. She hadn’t shared everything with him. If it hadn’t worked, both of them would have been destroyed. If he had known this risk to her, he might have, at the very least, paused to consider the costs. Osiris didn’t care about the risks to himself, and he found he held no animosity that she’d kept silent. Ultimately, he still would have gone through with it.

  Isis chided him through his thoughts. My love, she whispered. You are thinking too much. Try to let yourself enjoy the flight.

  Amazed at discovering the newfound ability to speak to her without a voice, Osiris sent her a myriad of thoughts: his gentle censure over her keeping the danger of the spell hidden from him, the wonder of feeling her emotions, the longing to hold her close and whisk her away to a hidden garden he’d never shared with anyone before, and, at last, his gratitude that she’d been patient enough to wait for him to come to her.

  He drew closer to her and looked up just as she looked down. The smile she gave him was full of promises and secrets that just the two of them would share. I wasn’t that patient, she said, and he could tell that his thoughts had pleased her. That was good. It would help to distract her from the unpleasantness waiting for them in Heliopolis.

  Unfortunately, the unpleasantness took form quickly as Seth stormed into the council chamber not a minute after they’d arrived. Amun-Ra, whose lips had been pressed into a thin line when they’d entered, hadn’t even spoken yet. He’d just stared at them. Nephthys stood at his side, and Isis noticed the forgotten tea setting for two on the side table. She raised an eyebrow and wondered why her sister might be having tea with Amun-Ra.

  The first words out of Amun-Ra’s mouth were directed to Seth. “You were not summoned,” he said simply.

  “Are you going to try to diminish and excuse what they’ve done?” Seth immediately countered. “We’ve all seen the stars. They’ve shifted. A new pattern has emerged. It’s unthinkable. Unacceptable. It goes against every statute you’ve ever issued,” he cried. “You’ve got to punish them!”

  “I will examine their deeds,” Amun-Ra said quietly. “Whether they are punished or not is none of your concern.”

  “It is the concern of all of us!” he shouted in response.

  A meek voice echoed in the chamber. “Perhaps Seth needs to witness this,” Nephthys said, and Isis turned, considering her sister. Nephthys knew something. Something she wasn’t sharing.

  Amun-Ra, too, lifted his gaze to Nephthys and studied her silently. After a moment, he nodded. “Very well. You may stay,” he said to Seth. Then he shifted on his throne, giving his
full attention to the two who stood in front of him, hands clasped. Amun-Ra frowned. “Who would like to go first?” he asked.

  Isis was about to speak when Osiris took a step forward. “I love Isis,” he declared boldly, and Isis’s heart warmed at his words, feeling the truth of them echo in her frame. “We have enacted a spell so that we can be together.”

  Amun-Ra leaned forward. “And it’s a powerful one at that.” He cocked his head. “Where did this spell come from?”

  “I created it,” Isis volunteered.

  “Can it be undone?”

  A chill stole through Isis, and she opened her mouth but found she couldn’t speak. The very idea of dissolving the connection between her and Osiris was as abhorrent to her now as cutting off her own arm.

  Nephthys answered the question. “It cannot. The pattern of the stars has been rewritten, the laws altered.”

  Isis swallowed and shot her sister a grateful look, but then Nephthys added, “There is no . . . unmaking what has been done.”

  Taking in a startled breath, Isis glanced surreptitiously at Seth, and her jaw tightened when she saw his small smirk and his bold perusal of her. Let him try, she thought.

  “I see,” Amun-Ra said. He sat back on his throne and rubbed his jaw as he considered his options.

  There was a long pause, and all eyes turned to the great god. Finally, he sighed. “Will you promise not to have children?” he queried.

  “Do . . . do you mean for us to remain as gods?” Osiris asked incredulously.

  “What did you think I was going to do?” Amun-Ra asked.

  “Make us mortal,” Osiris responded.

  Amun-Ra gave a half laugh. “I’m not sure I could even if I wanted to. Besides, we still have need of your various abilities,” he said with a wave of his hand, indicating them both. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you intend to have children?”

  Osiris was about to answer when Isis stilled him with the press of her hand on his arm. “We promise that we will not bring new life into this world without your knowledge.”

  Amun-Ra considered Isis’s words and then gave a final nod. “Then it would seem we have a wedding feast to plan.”

  The elation that Isis and Osiris felt at the announcement was tempered by Seth’s outburst. “What?” he cried. “Is this the protocol now? The gods can marry each other at will as long as they promise not to procreate?”

  Amun-Ra grunted. “The law has been rewritten. What they’ve done applies to us all,” he said with a stony gaze.

  Nephthys stepped forward and asked softly, “Can you not try to find the good in this, Seth?”

  Seth paused, his anger ebbing as he considered the pleading expression on her face. He seemed to reach some kind of decision, for he tucked his hands behind his back, gave Nephthys a brief nod, spat a sarcastic “Congratulations” to the couple, and took his leave.

  “There,” Amun-Ra said. “Now that the unpleasantness is over, I’ll announce to the city that there is a wedding party tonight. Nephthys?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’ll see to the details?”

  “Of course,” she answered with a demure nod.

  “But wait,” Isis said as Amun-Ra rose to leave. “I must speak with you about Seth.”

  Nephthys took hold of Isis’s arm with a firm grip. “This is not the time to bother Amun-Ra with trivial news. It’s your wedding!”

  “But he needs to know . . .”

  “Trust me when I say that whatever you want to tell him, Amun-Ra already knows. Besides, it can wait until tomorrow, can’t it?”

  Isis bit her lip. “Can it, sister?”

  Nephthys knew Isis was really asking her to use her second sight. Trying to look confident, Nephthys answered, “I’m certain. The stars have reignited. They burn in new ways now than they once did, but they still whisper to me, and their message is that all will be well.”

  Nephthys knew that her sister might never forgive her for hiding what was coming, but she also knew that what was going to be was supposed to be. Everything depended on it. Nephthys wasn’t aware of all the details of what would come to pass, not exactly, but she was aware that great sorrow would rest upon her sister’s shoulders tonight.

  Still, she would make everything as beautiful for her sister as she could. Nephthys didn’t want her to miss even a moment of the happiness she sought. For that reason, Nephthys sent Isis and Osiris away to rest while she prepared, not only for their wedding feast, but for what else awaited them.

  Servants came, including Baniti, who was brought up to Heliopolis specifically to distract Isis. Osiris insisted that his lovely new wife needed to spend the day recuperating from her spell, and as tired as Isis was, she didn’t protest. She allowed Baniti to spirit her off and help her into a fragrant tub scented with Egyptian oil. Isis took comfort in the fact that she knew exactly what her new husband was doing and where he was at all times. Even when she slept, her thoughts intertwined with Osiris’s, and both were comforted despite their physical separation.

  #

  Meanwhile, Seth had journeyed to the mortal world and stood at the edge of a vast and ancient forest—the largest and deepest of any on the entire planet. It was one of which Osiris was particularly proud and to which he often journeyed to bring back plant samples as well as various creatures to add to his menagerie. Flexing his fingers, Seth seethed and paced.

  How could this have happened without my knowledge? he wondered irascibly. His angry thoughts were a hailstorm pummeling the Earth, each vengeful idea bouncing wildly off the next. The air smelled of living things—tree sap, spruce, and pine—and a fine white mist blanketed the ground, giving the forest an air of mystery. Birds and small animals hopped from branch to moss-covered branch, filling the air with their happy song over the union.

  Seth hated everything about the forest. The trees mocked him, standing thick-trunked and tall. Proud and immovable. Just like Osiris. As he stared into the shadows of the trees, Seth felt something dark and slithering unfurl inside him. It coiled around his heart and squeezed, its jaws unhinging to swallow him whole. Each beat of his heart was startling, as if he stood in a hallway full of doors and each one he tried to enter slammed with a shocking finality, barring his exit. Seth clenched his fists as the cold blackness oozed through his veins, daring him to move against it.

  But then, instead of straining against the leviathan that had taken hold of his mind and heart, he stilled and allowed it to take root. As it circled and spread, he remained unmoving. He stood like a scarecrow, hollow and stiff-limbed, the sun bleaching him of any vestiges of sympathy or kindness.

  When the darkness finally settled in him like a sleeping dragon, Seth moved. His heart was now a cold, black millstone—unbending, unyielding, and unfeeling. If he was not to be honored, then he would be feared. Determination burned in his body, melting any remaining doubts away like waxy tallow.

  Raising his hands, he channeled his vast power, stretching himself further than he ever had before. He felt no pride in the act of unmaking, no fear of the consequences, only a sense of vindication. Thick tree roots erupted from the ground, creating a dense morass of wood that splintered and pushed until the trees fell and then disappeared, shrinking into the giant holes that had been their beds.

  Soon all that was left were gaping wounds where the great soldiers of the forest had once stood. The remaining vegetation slouched over the empty pockets, half uprooted and fluttering like the lips of a toothless old man.

  Moving forward, Seth worked. The ferns rolled in on themselves until they became dust and scattered in the wind. The clumps of delicate lichen and moss shriveled as if he’d set them on fire. They blackened and disappeared until even the smell of fungus, sap, and wood was obliterated. When he was done with the flora, Seth turned his attention to the fauna.

  Larger animals cried out, the beasts lumbering haphazardly across the now alien terrain, completely oblivious to predator or prey as they searched for their lost homes. Closin
g his eyes, he unmade them all. Some quickly. Some slowly. Smaller creatures that had hidden in the remains of the plants scampered haphazardly into holes and burrowed in the dirt. Flocks of birds darted this way and that in chaotic patterns, often bumping into each other as if confused.

  The vast numbers of creatures startled Seth, and yet he felt no remorse over their demise. Power filled his frame as he eradicated them, first as small groups and then by herds and swarms, until not even the tiniest ant remained. The blood and carnage that had stained the land with his slower unmakings was now gone. Gravity no longer had hold over him as he channeled his thoughts and rose into the air, scanning the vast plain before him for any remaining organisms, and found nothing but a river devoid of life.

  White streams of water fell across the rocks, spilling like a woman’s hair over the arm of the one she loved. The thought caused a certain melancholy to steal over Seth. Irritated, he moved on to the deep pool the waterfall fed and sat upon a rock as he stared at his reflection. He should have been proud of the way he looked. Coming into his power had added a bronze glow of health to his skin and a full thickness to his hair, and had strengthened his frame. But the handsome face staring back at him seemed to mock him. It didn’t matter that his image had changed. He still hated what he saw.

  Seth let out a heavy sigh, set aside his recent failure, and focused on how he could accomplish his goals, as well as what he should do about Isis’s abandonment. His mind stilled until his thoughts were as flat and motionless as the water’s surface. Then, with only the noise of the moving water as his companion, he plotted his next move.

  When he was satisfied with his machinations, he rose, and to his delight found he was able to unmake the river as well. His mother immediately began crying at what he’d done, her clouds gathering overhead. He cocked his head as he realized that the water had been a part of her and that what he’d done had, in essence, been like cutting off a piece of her.