Baniti took Isis’s hand, cupping hers around it. Very few mortals dared to touch the goddess, but Baniti had been hers ever since Isis found her as an abandoned child. The goddess was like a mother to her, though now Baniti looked the part of the goddess’s great-grandmother. “Isis, if a love of your own and a child by that man is the secret wish of your heart, then you will make it happen. Trust in yourself and your power. I always have.”
Isis wrapped her arms around the old woman and was shocked at how slight and fragile her frame was. Baniti shuddered and coughed, seemingly unable to catch her breath. Several moments passed until Baniti was able to breathe normally again. Isis, who had taken hold of her shoulders during her struggle, asked, “Is it the same sickness as the child?”
Baniti shook her hand and coughed again before answering. “No, goddess. The tickling of my lungs is different.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugged. “I’m an old woman. Do you think I’ll live as long as you?”
“You’re not old.” Isis shook her slightly and then stopped, remembering how frail the woman was now. “You’re still young,” she said, denying the obvious. “It wasn’t that long ago we were running and playing together.”
“That was decades ago.”
Kissing Baniti’s wrinkled forehead, Isis admonished, “Shhh. Remain still.”
Isis moved behind her beloved servant and pressed her hands against the woman’s back. She could feel the fluid filling her lungs, making her breathing difficult. The goddess attempted to use a spell to heal her, but Baniti’s aging form rejected her magic. It was the way of things. Each being in the universe was allotted a certain portion of time, a span for them to live their lives. Once that time ran out, there was nothing anyone, not even the gods, could do to prevent it from fading. She knew it, but it was too soon. Isis staggered back, her eyes filling with tears. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not ready to let you go.”
“You might not be ready, but I am. This body isn’t strong anymore. When I’m awake, I hurt. When I lie down, I ache. There’s no rest for me.”
“I’ll fix this,” Isis promised. “You aren’t going to die before the next moon. That much I can tell. But this sickness will weaken you. It will bring you to the door of death if I don’t find a way to do something about it.”
“Then maybe it’s time to introduce me to that good-looking Anubis. I can think of worse ways to go than to be escorted to the afterlife on the arm of one such as him.”
“I don’t think so. I’m keeping you far away from Anubis.”
“What a pity,” Baniti said and when she saw Isis still hesitating she waved her arms.
“All right, all right, now shoo. Go on to your meeting. I’ll be here when it’s over.”
“Yes, you will,” Isis said with determination.
Patting Baniti’s arm in farewell, Isis leapt into the air, her wings snapping open to carry her back to the barrier between the mortal realm and Heliopolis.
#
“No,” Amun-Ra said after Isis asked again, begging him with all the sincerity of her soul and even offering a part of herself. “You know it isn’t allowed, there just isn’t enough life energy remaining in the Waters of Chaos. Besides, mortals are what we’ve created them to be. Unfortunately, the very definition of mortal is that death is inevitable.”
“But don’t you see? It doesn’t have to be. These rules are self-imposed. Surely there can be exceptions.”
“Then when do we stop, Isis? Which god will you take energy from to make her immortal? Nut? Geb? Because that’s what would have to happen. And if I allowed you to use a part of your own power, there would soon be nothing left of you. You love your mortals too much. I cannot risk such a thing. Surely you understand the ramifications. The entire cosmos could implode!”
“But we don’t know that, do we?”
He sighed and sat back in his chair. “It’s better to be safe, Isis. We must keep our creations safe and keep our family safe. When we play with dangerous substances, we ensure our own destruction.”
“But what if there was another way?” She hadn’t considered it before, but the idea had come to her when a bird flew past the window overhead.
“And what way would that be?”
“What if I took the life energy of another creation? Not a god, but perhaps an ancient tree or an animal?” she suggested. Even as she spoke, the words of a spell, a powerful one, filled her mind. She could do it. She knew she could.
Amun-Ra interrupted her thoughts. “And why does the animal or tree deserve to give over its existence to prolong the life of another?”
“We could ask it to volunteer.”
“No,” he answered, forming his lips around the word in such a way that she knew he would brook no further argument.
Isis threw up her hands and growled, “You’re not keeping an open mind.”
“And I’d say your mind is too open. What you’re suggesting is an abuse of our powers.”
“Amun-Ra is right, Isis,” a familiar voice interrupted.
Stiffening, Isis turned away from the man who’d entered the chamber. “This is a private conversation, Osiris.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve come at an inopportune time, but I overheard what you said and felt I should caution you that the others would be milling about here soon. Perhaps this conversation would best be held in another place? A place not easily accessed by the entire Ennead.”
Isis folded her arms and frowned, finally looking at Osiris. Seeing the I’m-much-wiser-than-you, big-brotherly expression of tolerant pity on his face was the last straw. She was about to light into him when Amun-Ra held up a hand. “Thank you for the timely interruption, Osiris. He is right that we need to turn our attention to other things at present. I’m afraid this is my final decision, Isis. I warn you that no amount of pleading or abasing is going to change my mind. I’m sorry. Now please excuse me as I take my leave to make sure the feast is prepared.”
As Amun-Ra swept from the room, all the fight went out of her, leaving a brokenhearted Isis alone with Osiris.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he said.
She sniffed. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“I’m sorry for a lot of things where you’re concerned, actually. Despite that, he’s right. We have laws for a reason.”
“I don’t want to talk to you about laws.”
“Well, too bad.”
Isis was startled at his tone. Osiris had never been anything but polite and patient with her. He raked a hand through his dark hair. “Look, I understand having an attachment, even one that’s . . . deeply felt, but there’s something to be said for controlling ourselves. There must be moderation. Adhering to the statutes Amun-Ra put in place is not a bad thing.”
“But what if there’s more?” she challenged.
“What? What do you mean?”
“If by our laws we are bound, then perhaps by breaking them we are boundless,” replied Isis.
“You’re not making any sense.”
“What I mean is that the very things that weaken us, that cause us to feel . . . vulnerable”—Osiris raised an eyebrow—“might actually make us more powerful than we could possibly imagine,” she finished.
He sighed. “Isis—” he began, but she cut him off with the wave of her hand.