Then Seth found a spot in the warm cottage and watched the man’s still-too-slow progress. When a half hour passed, Seth unmade the man’s cat. After another thirty minutes, he unmade a bushel of apples, taking one for himself and munching on it. Then he made a tool disappear and then another. There wasn’t much in the room for him to unmake. But Seth soon thought better of disappearing the man’s tools. It wouldn’t help his cause.
The headache was in full swing after that, and Seth unmade the man’s coin purse as well as his wardrobe just because he was hurting. By the time he heard the bellow of the horn announcing it was time to gather, the man thankfully only had one more piece to finish. Seth waited impatiently as the toy maker’s shaking hands applied the last coat of paint.
The game pieces were laid inside the wooden box and Seth took it roughly, tucked it under his arm, and prepared to leave. But before he exited, the man spoke up, which was a mistake he wouldn’t have the privilege of making again.
“G . . . give the goddess Isis my best,” he said. “She helped my wife learn to weave.”
Seth turned and bared his teeth in a dangerous sneer. “Oh, I will absolutely give Isis . . . the best. And since you might have reason to cross paths with her, I’d better make sure you won’t be distracting her from what’s best.”
With that, he unmade the toy maker’s tongue and hands. It was a shame, since the man obviously had skills, but he couldn’t risk the man talking to Isis before Seth was ready. With a mocking salute, Seth left the toy maker’s home and headed to the feast with his prize.
Chapter 3
Blooming
“Baniti, why didn’t you call me sooner?” Isis chastised as she took the baby in her arms. The poor thing was so ill that it looked ready to cry, but it couldn’t muster the energy to do it.
“You were away,” the favorite servant of Isis replied. “I thought it could wait until your return, but he declined so rapidly.”
Isis nodded. “I’ve seen this type of sickness before. It’s quick. And deadly,” she added. “We must hurry if we’re going to save him.”
Cuddling the baby close, Isis instructed Baniti to build up the fire while she sang softly to soothe the child. Her wings fanned the air in the small home and the heat radiated around them. Sweat broke out on Baniti’s face. The day was already sweltering. To sit in the home with the blazing fire, made even hotter with the power of the goddess, was miserable. The heat was uncomfortable even for Isis herself. But Baniti trusted her goddess. She’d seen her work her magic before, and to great effect. If Isis could save Baniti’s little grandson, then she would gladly tolerate a bit of discomfort.
Once the coals of the fire turned white, Isis began weaving her spell. Baniti closed her eyes and whispered, echoing the spell though she possessed no magic of her own. Baniti was so convinced of the goddess’s power she didn’t even blink an eye when Isis laid her precious grandson directly on the white-hot coals.
The baby screamed, his cries piercing the air. And though Baniti winced, the expression on Isis’s face was one of calm determination. The skin on the boy’s little arms and legs turned bright red as he kicked and flailed, but Isis remained steadfast, continuing to chant the words of the spell. Steam rose from the baby’s body, and when Baniti blinked, the curling wisps seemed almost black as they writhed in the air. They looked as if they were live demons departing the baby’s form. Perhaps they were. Baniti closed her eyes and renewed her chanting with great fervor.
Finally, the baby began to quiet. His glowing skin dimmed until it had returned to its normal color. Sweat trickled from Baniti’s temples to her cheeks, and she distractedly swiped at it with the hem of her sleeve. Her fingers itched to pull the baby from the fire, but Isis held out a hand to stop her as if reading her thoughts. “Let me,” the goddess said. “The flames will harm you. And he’s still too hot from the spell.”
Reaching into the crackling flames, Isis picked up the infant and tenderly bathed the ashes from his tiny body. Baniti brought new clothing since the baby’s had burned away. When he was dressed, Isis herself having clothed the child, she sat holding him and smiled when he brought his thumb to his mouth. “He is whole again,” Isis said. “The disease was purged from his body. My magic will protect him from its effect for the remainder of his life.”
Tearfully, Baniti knelt at the goddess’s feet and placed her palm on her grandson’s forehead. “Thank you,” she said.
Isis shifted the baby to one arm and stroked the old woman’s cheek. “It is I who should thank you. You have been of great comfort to me over these long years. I am glad to have been able to offer you some of the same.”
Isis whispered a word to bank the fire, then lifted her wings and stirred the air around the child, gently cooling him. The two women were quiet for a moment as they listened to the baby suck on his thumb. “You’re good with him,” Baniti said, rising with a groan. “If only—”
“It is not meant to be,” Isis interrupted quickly, already knowing what Baniti was going to say. She frowned watching Baniti struggle to her feet. Seeing one she loved so enfeebled saddened her. “We’ve had this discussion before,” Isis finished distractedly.
“But surely Amun-Ra can—”
“Even if he could, he wouldn’t.” Isis stroked the downy head of the newborn.
“Besides, for a child to even be a possibility, there would have to be a man in my life first. And the one I’m interested in is more concerned with duty than love.”
“So there is someone. I have to admit, I’ve been wondering about you. Will you tell me who he is?”
Isis sighed. “It doesn’t matter. He isn’t receptive.”
“Then he’s a fool.”
“Be that as it may, Amun-Ra has always told us to content ourselves with what we are and that the state we are born into is the only state we should aspire to. Even if the one I wanted desired me in return, his adherence to the law is firm. It seems I should relegate myself to a life lived alone.”
“Bah,” Baniti said with a dismissive wave of her hand and bustled about the small home straightening the baby’s things as she waited for his mother to return from the fields. “No one deserves to be alone. Especially one such as you. I don’t believe Amun-Ra’s opinion is valid.”
“No?”
“Absolutely not. If we mortals had nothing to aspire to, we’d just give up and die in our beds. There is no reason you can’t seek out what you dream. Everyone has the right to dream of something more.”
“Perhaps you are right.” Isis kissed the little cheek of the sleeping baby and handed him to Baniti, who settled him in his basket and tucked his blanket around him. “I must return to the council.”