And Caesarion had a date with Octavian, who would soon rule the free world. My True couldn’t pilfer any more time, either.
As though reading my thoughts, he turned and gave me a smile. This one was not melancholy or filled with regret or fear. He looked peaceful and happy with the potential of a brand new day. “It’s time to take the next steps into the future.”
“Just not the same one,” I lamented.
“One day, Kaia. We will be together. I must believe that.”
I wished I could believe anything as strongly as Caesarion believed in the all-knowing beings who decided his fate the day he took his first breath, the beings who would accompany him on another journey after his trek through this life ended.
“How do you know?” I asked, desperate to soak up his hope.
“I promised to tell you the story of Isis and Osiris. Are you still interested?”
I ignored the files the bio-tat shoved at me, shaking them away. “Tell me.”
“So demanding,” he teased, but quickly sobered. “Theirs is a tale of love, of loss and grief, and finally of acceptance. They were lovers, the greatest my Egypt has ever known.”
He paused, and I considered telling him how his mother and Antony are actually considered the greatest lovers Egypt has ever known, but I held my tongue. I was Team Caesar, anyway.
“Set, their brother, was jealous of their love, so he murdered Osiris and threw his body in the Nile so that Isis could not bury him properly and say her farewells. Her grief knew no bounds; she did not sleep or eat or think of doing a single thing but finding his body. It is said that she knew the moment her love expired though no one could have known of Set’s evil triumph. Isis searched the world until she found his remains in Phoenicia. She returned him to Egypt and hid him in the Nile’s swamps to prepare his life’s celebration, but Set found the coffin and cut Osiris into fourteen pieces, scattering them to the ends of the earth.”
“Why was Set such a sphincter?”
Caesarion chuckled. “I do not know the word, but can assume you’re asking why he was so relentless in his hatred?”
“Yes. That.”
“Set is a jealous god. Ra imbued him with the worst parts of man.”
“That’s unfortunate.” The tale distracted me from my grief over losing my own love, for the moment, but I sensed Caesarion chose to tell it to me for a reason. “Please finish the story.”
“Isis searched and searched, finally gathering thirteen of the pieces of her husband and using her considerable magic to re-form him. Once whole, Osiris descended to rule over Amenti, the land of the dead, until their son avenged his death and restored him to the world of the living. Every year her tears flood the Nile, give life to the people her husband loved so well, and remind them that evil will not triumph.”
“They were together again? Isis and Osiris?”
“Of course. How could a love that Isis fought so hard for be denied forever by the gods?”
My heart swelled painfully against my rib cage. A lump pulsed painfully in my throat as Caesarion and I stared into each other’s eyes, his passion swallowing me, drowning me, killing me. Then I kissed him, pressing gently at first but quickly desperate for more of him. His strong hands pulled me closer until the heat between us rivaled the steamy Egyptian evening, and his fingers toyed again with the two-sided necklace lying against my chest.
“What happened to them? The people from different worlds?”
“They found a way to be together. At least for a while.” I swallowed, trying desperately to be strong, to be the kind of girl who deserved a man like Caesarion. “We can do it, too. We’re stronger than our circumstances.”
“Yes. Stronger than death. That’s why I told you the story. You came searching for me across many suns and many worlds. I will walk through the afterlife seeking your face, my Kaia, until I see it again. No matter how many lifetimes pass before you return to me once more.”
The sky lightened again, and we both knew the time had come. Caesarion helped me back up to my bench, then rowed us through the humid morning in silence. The moment seemed surreal and untouched, suspended in time like a moving painting, too perfect to be true.
Until we neared the dock and I saw Oz standing there in his Historian garb, arms crossed over his thick chest.
He definitely looked pissed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I put my hand on Caesarion’s arm, not taking my eyes off Oz. “Wait. Stop rowing.”
He followed my gaze, squinting against the sunlight. The protective growl in his voice when he asked who waited on the docks warmed my blood.
“He’s the boy I told you about.”
“You are sure he is not more than a friend?”
I snorted. “I’m not sure he’s even that anymore.”
Caesarion’s shoulders relaxed. “Perhaps he has come to put his trust in you after all.”
“Maybe. But I want to say farewell here, while it’s still the two of us.” Oz would be able to see, but it was better than trying to leave Caesarion with Oz standing right there.
My True nodded, swallowing hard, then uttered a chuckle that sounded the opposite of funny. “This moment has been waiting since the day we met. I did not expect it to be so hard.”
Tears pricked my eyes and I moved, struggling for balance in the rocking boat, but managed to maneuver next to him. His arms folded me against his chest and I squeezed back for all I was worth. When he bent and kissed me, I forgot about the rest of the world for the next minute, losing myself in this strange place that would never exist again. His tongue sought mine and I opened up to him, tasting his love and his sorrow, marveling at the way we fit together, at the way I could have sat in this boat kissing him for the rest of my life.
“Let’s not say good-bye,” I whispered when we broke apart. “We’ll meet again, like you said.”