Daughter of Isis (Descendants of Isis #1)

He broke the seal to the shrine and opened the doors, revealing a small statue of the god Set. His image depicted a creature with a body of a man and the head of Sha, a species no longer seen in the world. It was said to have a curved snout, square ears, forked tail, and a canine body.

Beginning to sing hymns of praise to the god, Seth removed the statue from the shrine and gently peeled off the linens draped over its body. He picked up the antyw, washing the incense over the bare statue. He then took the purified water and rubbed it into the golden skin. Once finished, he redressed the creature in the fresh linens his mother presented, draped it in gold and jewels, and placed natron and myrrh at his feet.

Seth turned to his mother. His mother ducked her head a bit, keeping her eyes cast down to the floor as Seth took possession of the god’s offering. The meal consisted of a cut of beef cooked so rare the blood still oozed onto the plate. The honey cakes absorbed the liquid, turning them red. Slices of tomatoes, fresh strawberries, cherries, and pomegranate seeds were also arranged around the plate. A bowl of water and a goblet of wine shimmered.

Seth placed the tray on a stone table at Set’s feet. Picking up the dagger, he sliced the palm of his hand and let the blood drip into the bowl of water until it became scarlet.

“Hail to you, O Set, lord of darkness, bringer of chaos, owner of the scepter of power, rightful ruler of Egypt. I, Seth O’Keefe, son of the hem-netjer, honor you with this morning meal and my blood. Go in peace.”

He bowed to the statue while he and his mother withdrew from the room backwards. Once over the threshold, Seth closed and locked the door. He turned to find his mother gazing up at him with pride.

“Ar nefer. Well done, my son.”

***

After changing into his everyday jeans and T-shirt, Seth charged from his suite on the third floor down into the blue and white kitchen. He leaned his backpack against the large island in the center of the room. His mother was busy working over the large sink to clean the pots and pans. As he made his way to the coffee and espresso machine, he paused to give his mother a kiss on the top of her head and whisper a gentle, “Good morning.” He then leaned around her, grabbed the carafe, and poured himself a mug of black coffee for himself.

When he turned around he found his mother watching him, her face bright with pride and affection. In the rays of light from the morning sun, he stared into her unnaturally dilated eyes. Around the rim of her pupil, he could just see the sapphire blue irises. The color of her eyes before his father had taken her into Set’s Temple long ago. They were still beautiful, like sparking gems.

Michelle glanced at his bleeding hand. “Oh, my son, you can’t go into school with that.”

She dropped everything and pulled out a light golden bandage that had been soaked in honey and herbs. She started to wrap the fabric over the wound, her fingers brushing lightly over his skin.

“Soon you will no longer have to be concerned with the daily rituals,” his mother said in her soft, loving voice. “Your father is due to return from his meeting with the hemu-netjer council.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “As far as I am concerned, he can stay in London as long as he wants.”

“It must have been important for a meeting to be called so unexpectedly,” she continued, pushing back her copper hair from her eyes. “It was an honor that he chose you to uphold his office in his absence.”

He nodded, not wishing to voice his opinion of his father’s attempts at grooming him as the future hem-netjer. Though a great honor to become one of the order’s high priests, it was just one more thing his paternal bloodline had forced him into. Even with the power of charm and the spells he learned from his training, Seth was still trapped under his father’s thumb, unable to live of his own life.

He refocused on his mother when she cradled his hand and closed her eyes. Her lips moved to a silent prayer, and then she began to remove the bandage. Seth stared at the mended skin while his mother wiped away the leftover blood.

“Where did you learn such magic?” Seth asked. “I haven’t seen this in any of our scrolls.”

Michelle’s eyes narrowed in thought. “You know, I’m not sure. I think it-it was back . . . back before I met . . . before I met your . . .”

Her eyes rolled back, and her body began to sway.

“Mom?” Seth grabbed her arm. After a moment of drifting, she suddenly shivered, rolled back her head, and let out a soft moan. When she opened her eyes, her gaze seemed distant and miserable. She searched her surroundings, her lower lip trembling with fear. Seth glanced down at the leather, seven knot anklet, a symbol of her enslavement, covering her lotus tattoo and frowned. “Mom, it’s over. Are you okay?”

“Oh.” She rubbed her arms as if she were cold, though the house was still warm from the oven. “Yes, I’m fine. Just another spell. What were we talking about?”

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