Locking her eyes to his, she challenged, “What if there was a way for us to fulfill our dreams? To have what we most desire, simply by embracing the things that outwardly appear unsuitable?”
She took a step forward, the tree branches in the atrium casting their grayish-blue shadows over her face. Osiris edged back nervously. Isis pressed on trying to explain it in a way Osiris would understand. “Why should we be satisfied with a simple harvest, an acceptable yield, when we have the ability to produce more?”
Osiris knew very well that Isis was no longer talking about saving her mortal. At least, that wasn’t the only thing she was alluding to. The fact that her words echoed the little voice in his mind, the one he’d been trying to ignore, didn’t help. He couldn’t, wouldn’t consider what she was asking. It would undo everything. Cold fear crept through his veins.
He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. It roused her temper. Irritated, she continued, “If it was possible for you to achieve something, to attain something, to aspire to something you yearned for above all else, wouldn’t you give anything just to have the opportunity? Why do we have all this power, Osiris, if we aren’t meant to use it?”
A clapping sound echoed in the room. “Hear, hear. I wholeheartedly agree with you, Isis.”
Osiris frowned at the new arrival. “Seth. We are in the middle of a private conversation.”
“How ironic for you to adopt that attitude, Osiris,” Isis said, her irritation turning into ire. “It matters not, regardless. I can see your mind is fixed upon your course of action. This discussion is over.”
Isis swept around Osiris as he stood rooted in place, and his back stiffened as he heard Seth ask if he could escort Isis to the feast. He had been meaning to accompany her himself, as a sort of peace offering between them. By doing so, he’d been hoping to make amends for the poor way he’d handled her before. In truth, he’d been able to think of little else but her when he was gone. Coming home had been an excuse. Osiris wanted to fix what was wrong between them and now Seth was getting in the way.
When Isis agreed to sit next to Seth at the feast as well, Osiris tightened his hands into fists and trailed slowly behind them, never taking his eyes off Isis’s gleaming wings except to glare at Seth’s hand that had encircled her waist.
His mood didn’t improve during dinner. Seth had positioned himself near the head of the table in the spot usually reserved for Osiris. Then he somehow managed to have Isis sit on one side of him and Nephthys on the other. He also caught Seth sneaking looks at Isis whenever her attention was turned to something else. Was it possible that Seth was interested in her in a romantic way?
Osiris wouldn’t put it past him. Seth was never one to take rules too seriously. Isis was lonely. She wanted someone to love her, to offer her more than just friendship. Then there was the undeniable fact that Isis was the loveliest creature he’d ever seen. Surely Osiris wasn’t the only man who’d noticed her.
None of them, not even Isis, had ever taken Seth seriously before. He was always tagging along, trying to keep up with the other gods. Osiris rubbed his jaw as he studied Seth. The boy had filled out a bit, but he was still rough around the edges. Seth had always been wild, angry. He’d treated mortals badly, demanded their adoration. Osiris didn’t want that for Isis. She deserved much better than Seth.
When Seth offered Isis a berry and nudged the succulent fruit between her lips himself, Osiris could not control the shaking of his hands. He tried to talk about something else, anything else, to distract himself from the scene being played out in front of his eyes. But his reports on vegetation, crops, and the wonders of nature weren’t enough to take his attention away from Seth’s obvious flirtation. How could no one else be noticing Seth’s behavior? Was he always like this now?
Seth even began charming Nephthys. The man had no shame. As he sat at dinner gloating over his latest exploits, each astounding achievement questionable at best, everyone turned a rapt ear. How could they believe that Seth rescued an entire village from a fire? Seth had never lifted a finger to help anyone, especially mortals. Even Osiris couldn’t help but listen and gape at the man’s audacity as he spoke of returning stolen infants to parents, encouraging misguided youth, and even rescuing a nest of baby birds from the mouth of a hungry viper.
Seth kissed Nephthys’s hand in an all-too-friendly manner and promised she could play the winner after he challenged Isis to the new game he’d invented. A game. Osiris snorted in disgust. Surely there were better uses of a god’s time than games.
Wanting to distract himself from the distasteful display Seth was orchestrating, Osiris attempted to wipe the sullen expression from his face. He then cleared his throat and said, “I have an interesting story to share.”
Though all eyes turned toward Osiris, Isis lifted her cup and pointedly looked away, ignoring him. Seth noticed and curled his lips in a mocking grin. “Tell us, then,” Seth said. “For I personally find farm tools and the merits of various types of manure vastly interesting,” he finished with a sweeping gesture of his arm.
Osiris tried to ignore him and said, “A farmer told me that an enemy had come upon his field by night and had sown tares among his crop of wheat. There was no way to know it had happened until the grain started to grow and the tares became obvious.”
“Fascinating,” Seth said with a pinched mouth, then laced his fingers together and rested his chin upon them. “Do go on.”
“He asked me if he should remove the tares immediately, but I cautioned him not to, saying that if he removed them early, it might damage the wheat. I instructed him to wait until they were grown and then harvest the wheat and burn the tares.” Osiris leaned forward, pressing his hands against the table. “The funny thing about tares is that when the seedlings are young, they look just like the wheat. But they are nothing like the plant they mimic.”
Osiris looked around the room. “Tares have no purpose. They have no value. They take up precious space in an otherwise fertile, productive field. They do not serve mankind. In fact”—he turned his eyes to Seth and narrowed his eyes—“they are nothing more than a blight to be rooted out and burned.”
Seth wrenched back in his chair, the expression on his face volatile. “Then perhaps the thing to do would be to burn the whole field,” he spat.
“That would be wasteful, don’t you think?” Osiris answered as he folded his arms across his broad chest.
“Well, I guess that’s the difference between you and me,” Seth answered. “I wouldn’t waste time trying to salvage a few scrawny stalks of wheat when I can just raze the crop and start over again.”