Nephthys lifted her head and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. Isis knew she sought unseen answers. When she opened them, she replied, “I do not know. But the stars cannot lie. What I’ve seen will be.” Offering a small smirk, she added, “Trust in the stars, my beautiful sister.”
And Isis did. She went on with her work, at first having an absolute faith in the things her sister had told her. Decades passed, filled with longing and hope. But the more men she met, the more she wavered. Not one of them—mortal or immortal—caught her eye or made her heart flutter with anticipation. Isis began to despair thinking her sister’s omen had been wrong. That the stars had deceived Nephthys or that, at the very least, she had misunderstood the signs.
Then one summer night the horns blew, announcing that it was time for the Ennead to gather, a time when all the gods would meet. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade but something had changed between them in the time they’d been apart. When he scooped her up and kissed both of her cheeks it felt . . . different than it once had. The warmth of his body seemed to linger, even though he’d left her to embrace Nephthys.
She found herself seeking him out all evening long, and attempted to sit next to him. When that space was already occupied, she fixed her eyes upon him and tried to discern what might have happened to him, what changes had been wrought to make her feel as if she was seeing him for the first time.
Was it the length of his hair? The glow of his skin bronzed by the sun? When he smiled she felt special, as if he were telling her something secretive, somehow meant just for her. When he told stories of his adventures, she wondered if he might be glancing in her direction more frequently than he looked upon the others. By the time the evening festivities were done, Isis knew that the stars had given her the long-awaited gift they’d promised.
The council adjourned, and the one whose attention she sought stretched and rose to retire. Quickly Isis also stood and asked if she might walk with him. He nodded, bright eyes twinkling as he offered her his arm. Together they walked the long halls of Heliopolis, him asking polite questions as they did. All she could focus on was how her heart raced, and Isis wondered if he could feel the thick beat of her pulse where her wrist rested against his muscular arm.
When they reached the wing reserved for her when she was in residence at Amun-Ra’s palatial home, he paused and brushed a finger against her cheek. “What is it, Little One?” he asked.
She grinned nervously at his old nickname for her. She’d been taller than him all through their adolescence and “Little One” had been his way of teasing her, but now he easily stood five inches above her, which was no small feat, even for an immortal. Isis had always bristled when he’d called her that before, but the name felt different now. More like an endearment.
“I . . .,” she started to say as she gazed up into his eyes. A fluttery feeling set her nerves on edge and her wings shifted softly behind her. “I missed you,” she finally managed to get out.
He laughed kindly. “I missed you, too.”
She nodded and lowered her gaze.
Ducking his head, he tried to gauge her expression. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” A pause, then, “No.” Isis wrung her hands and her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.
He took both her hands in his and gave them a little shake. “Something must truly be upsetting you. I’ve never known the great goddess Isis to act so flustered.”
Isis opened her mouth but couldn’t speak.
His gaze narrowed. “Has someone hurt you, Little One?”
“No. At least, not exactly.”
“I see. And who is not exactly hurting you?” His eyes had turned cold and flinty, his body rigid. Anger radiated from him.
“It’s not a person. It’s more of an idea.”
That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”
Isis let out a soft sigh, wondering how she was going to explain her feelings. Would he reject her outright? Would he be shocked at her boldness? Or might he, perhaps, be wanting the same thing she did?
She began, “I’ve been thinking about the laws that govern us, and I find one of them in particular difficult to comply with.”
“Which one?”
“The one that says we are not allowed to bind ourselves with another, like Nut and Geb did.”
“Ah.” He let go of Isis’s hands and turned away. With his back straight and stiff, he asked, “So you’ve found someone you can love?”
“I think so. In truth, I’ve loved him for many years already.”
“I see.”
Feeling bold, Isis approached him, opening her wings and wrapping one around him as they stood side by side. She’d often hidden the two of them beneath her gleaming feathers when they were children so they could talk about their plans for mischief making in secret. Now the gesture felt different, new, like she was opening another chapter of her life.
He sighed and turned toward her, his features hidden in the shadow of her wing. “You know the law only applies to immortals, Isis. So there shouldn’t be a concern regarding you and your newfound love. Tell me then, what mortal should I be congratulating?”
“I am not in love with a mortal,” Isis said.
Cocking his head, he clarified, “Then he is immortal?”
“He is. But it’s complicated.”
“I would say so, although the lines of the law are blurred regarding certain immortals. Your love might still be possible.”
“There’s another thing. You see, he doesn’t know how I feel about him yet.”
“Do you doubt that he returns your affection?” He ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, “That was a stupid question. Of course he returns your affection.” Lifting his eyes to hers, he touched his fingertips to her jaw. “How could he not?” He gave her a small smile and dropped his hand. He sighed. “I suppose he’s handsome.”
“Incredibly so.”
“Is he kind to you?”
“He has always been kind.”
“And he is worthy of you?”
“I can think of no one worthier.”
“Then why doesn’t he know?”
Isis placed her palm on his shoulder and slid it down the planes of his chest until it covered his heart. “Because he’s been gone for a very long time,” she voiced quietly.
His brow furrowed and then astonishment ironed out the lines of confusion. “Isis. You cannot mean what you’re saying.”
“And if I do?”
After cupping her hand with his, he added, with an almost desperate hiss, “Such a thing is forbidden.”
“I thought we already talked about that aspect.”
“Yes, but . . . this is different. Think of the consequences.”
“And what are the consequences of a life lived without love?”
He gently removed her hand from his chest and pressed it between his own. “You can’t mean this, Isis. You don’t understand.”
“I understand loneliness and longing.” She brought her other wing around until they stood in the midst of them. “I understand now that it was always you.” He swallowed, and when she saw the expression of panic on his face, she took a step back. “Do, do you not feel the slightest bit of affection for me, then?”