Recreated (27 page)

Tia hated the idea but helped me focus my eyes to try and discover tree limbs that overshot the crackling flames. There were none.

Should we walk through it?
I suggested.
Maybe it's a test.

Absolutely not!
Tia insisted.

Then what's your big idea? Not hearing too much from you. And I'd think I would, considering how vocal you've been lately.

I did not know my thoughts were so repulsive to you.

Not repulsive. And it's not your thoughts I'm having a problem with—it's the surprise takeovers.
I sighed.
It's just…getting hard to keep us separate sometimes.

I, too, am having a hard time remembering myself. We are…bleeding into one another.

Maybe that's a good thing.

Maybe.

So then let's use that to our advantage,
I said.

What do you mean, Lily?

Let's call on our power.

I didn't need to hear her words to know she agreed. Closing my eyes, we drew upon the power of the sphinx and I felt Tia's thoughts entwine with mine, our purpose becoming one. We wanted to get over the wall of fire.

We called upon the wind and it banked the flames enough that we could traverse them. Backing up a few feet, we ran, leapt, and then somersaulted in the air before landing on our feet safely on the other side. The moment our feet touched ground, the flames disappeared and Asten and Ahmose approached us.

“I've never seen a crossing done like that before,” Asten said, an appreciative gleam in his eyes.

“Most of the dead just walk through the flames,” Ahmose added as he folded his arms across his chest. “They know they can't be burned.”

“Well, we didn't know that,” I replied. “Besides, it's very likely we could have been burned. Our flesh is still living.”

“And we wouldn't want to scar something so lovely,” Asten said.

“Come,” Ahmose said. “It's not far now to the Porch of Judgment.”

The dirt and pebbles of our current path were replaced with stone as the dark expanse of a stone temple came into view.

“Is that it?” I asked.

“It is. Don't wander now,” Ahmose warned as if I would suddenly decide to leave them.

The Porch of Judgment looked like an ancient palace in ruins. Large blocks of stone lay broken and shattered in various sections. There were no windows, just large, carved recesses with sealed-up sections where window should have been. The pillars that stood on each side of the imposing stone door were hollowed out, and fires burned inside them, giving haunting life to the images engraved on the outside. They looked like frightening iron jack-o'-lanterns with gaping maws, waiting to swallow the dead. Braziers burned on the top, sending flaming ashes and smoke skyward.

“Little scary, isn't it?” I asked.

“It's meant to be intimidating,” Ahmose answered.

“Well, it's working,” I said.

Ahmose grabbed an iron ring on the door and pulled while Asten took hold of the other one. With a substantial creak, the doors swung open. Without thinking, I reached for Asten's hand. Though he seemed surprised at the offer, he didn't hesitate and enfolded my fingers in his.

Once we were inside, the doors closed on their own. Torches lined the hallway, rings of smoke sticking to the stone walls like the dark shadows of tortured souls. I squeezed Asten's hand, and though I knew he couldn't feel it in the same way, I soon felt an echoing squeeze. It comforted me and helped soothe Tia's nerves.

“What's next?” I whispered.

“We meet the gods and your heart is weighed,” Asten replied.

“Do I need to do that? I mean, I'm not dead.”

“Honestly, I'm not sure. If what you said is true, they're expecting you. It should go easier for you than it does with most of the souls who find their way here.”

I swallowed. “That's what I'm hoping for.”

We entered a large room where three thrones sat empty. In the center of the space was a large golden scale, with torches casting a dim light over the vast chamber. I felt like I was in a dungeon waiting to hear my sentence. After Asten guided me to a dais, giving me a reassuring smile, he had me stand there while Ahmose stepped forward and began chanting a spell.

“This Soul has come to the afterlife

She has journeyed the channel of the sky and the earth

She has walked with the guardians

She has trod the path of the white hippos

She has passed through the tree of fire

And she has come through unscathed

She is prepared for the judgment

She seeks to have her heart weighed

And is ready to follow the path you choose for her.”

The three of us stood there, waiting for something to happen. When nothing did, Ahmose added:

“She is noble and she is beloved

Please give her audience.”

This time the room shook. When it finally quieted, a storm cloud of sand filtered in from the open passageways and created a human-sized cyclone. The sand solidified and a familiar shape took form.

I lifted my hand slightly, waving at Anubis as he approached, a tiny smile transforming his perpetual glower. “You made it,” he said.

“No thanks to you. Your directions were rather cryptic.”

“I told you what I was able to. Did you come through Heliopolis?” he asked.

I nodded.

“And how did you get there?”

“Nebu. He asked if I would pass along a message.”

Anubis took a step closer. “I already know what he asked of you.”

“And? Will you tell her?” I pressed.

He sighed. “She already knows.”

Asten stepped forward and placed a protective hand on my arm.

A familiar glower stole across Anubis's face. Just then, three more cyclones appeared and Anubis stepped back and took a position along the stone wall.

Three beings materialized upon the thrones. Sucking in a nervous breath, I narrowed my shoulders and looked at the three gods seated before me. Two of them were women; the other was a man. The man's skin had a greenish tinge to it. He was handsome, with dark hair and piercing eyes, and I remembered the story Amon told me about Seth and Isis. I guessed that the man seated before me must be the winged goddess's husband, Osiris.

I had no idea who the other two women might be. The one on the left had flawless dark skin and glossy lips. Her hair was wound and pinned on top of her head with an elaborate headdress, her back stiff and her demeanor regal. She reminded me of a strict schoolmarm, albeit a beautiful one. Her eyes flicked over me with a calculating expression, and I got the impression that she was extremely on top of things; she was surely the one in charge. This was despite the fact that both Anubis and the man I guessed was Osiris were pretty much as intimidating as Horus and Amun-Ra.

Everything about the other woman was soft, her demeanor sagacious and kind. Her long blond hair hung to her waist and the jewelry she wore was thin and simple—a silver bracelet, a thin belt made from different precious metals, and a tiny chain that hung across her forehead and draped down around her cascading hair. She wore silver sandals and the folds of her dress fell to the floor. She actually gave me a smile that was part encouragement and part curiosity when I glanced in her direction.

Out of nowhere, a group of shabtis materialized in a corner and began playing soft music. I recognized a flute, a harp, and a sistrum, a golden instrument that looked like a badminton racket, only instead of a net it had tiny disks that slid back and forth when shaken. The only reason I knew about it was because Dr. Hassan had unearthed one recently and described it in his usual meticulous detail in a letter.

Maybe the gods summoned the musicians as a way of soothing the dead before they ripped out their hearts for judgment,
I thought.

It
is
pleasing,
Tia noted.

You missed the point,
I said.

What was your point?

Heart ripping.

Other servants stood by the gods, waving ostrich feather fans, holding plates of grapes and goblets glistening with condensation. Not one of the shabtis made eye contact with me. Actually, they appeared to be studiously avoiding looking at the entire judging area.

The austere-looking beauty spoke first. “What is your condition?” she asked.

“My…condition? I don't understand.”

“Please answer the question. What is your condition?”

“Um…alive, I guess?”

“This will never do. She isn't ready,” the testy woman complained. “Remove her from my sight at once.”

Immediately, Ahmose and Asten began to protest, and a burst of power from the woman's fingertips froze the two of them instantly. Anubis took a step toward me then, but one glance from the woman made him reconsider his decision and he moved back into his former place with a wince.

The kind-looking woman wrung her hands and said, “Please, won't you reconsider?” but the first woman glared at her until she turned her head aside. Finally, my questioner took a step closer, raised her hand, and said, “She will be banished and sent back to the place from whence she came, only to return when she has shuffled off the chains of mortality.”

She waved her hand in a flourish to leave, but not before the man on the throne stood. “No, Ma'at,” he said. “She won't.”

“Osiris?” The goddess Ma'at spun, her mouth shaped in a surprised O.

“My apologies,” Osiris said. “I meant no disrespect. But you know as well as I do that we need her.”

“That's your opinion,” she replied. “The law is—”

“The law means nothing in this case,” Anubis said, taking a bold step forward, his eyes sliding briefly to me.

Ma'at glared at him like he was a naughty schoolboy ready to be punished with a ruler. “How dare you say such a thing?” she spat. “The law is everything. Without it, there is no balance, no order.”

“Ma'at,” Anubis countered as he gestured with his hands. “Don't you think you're being a bit extreme?”

“Me? You have allowed your mind to be clouded by the mortals you favor. You hold out hope for redemption where none can be found. Even if it were allowed, which it isn't, the likelihood of success is infinitesimal and absolutely not worth risking this one's immortal soul. Besides, it would be ill-advised for me to endorse such a foolish venture when Amun-Ra refuses to offer his support. And furthermore—”

“Um, he did, though,” I interjected. “He guided me to Cherty as the benu bird.”

Ma'at turned on me. “You will cease speaking immediately!” she bellowed. “You are only to answer the questions I pose to you. Otherwise remain silent.”

“Shouldn't I get a say in deciding my own fate?”

“She has a point,” the kinder goddess proposed.

To say that Ma'at didn't like to be contradicted would be an egregious understatement of vast proportions. She turned her back to me, ignoring me completely, as she addressed the other woman. “This is not an occasion where we should allow the influence of a mortal to color our decisions, Nephthys. I know how you love them, but you must cede to my experience regarding this matter.”

Nephthys twitched her hands with nervous energy and glanced in my direction. She then nodded and sat back in her chair. I stared at her, wondering how so delicate and beautiful a creature could have agreed to marry the creepy god Seth. Amun-Ra had said she could see into his heart. Personally, I wouldn't want to get close enough to the guy to do any such thing. A shiver ran down my spine as I thought about him.

Ma'at turned her attention back to me, likely preparing to banish me yet again, but Anubis interrupted. “Wait! I will offer to be her patron.”

Ma'at closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “You cannot, Anubis. You know this already. The law says you are only allowed to select one mortal and you have. This”—she gestured vaguely to Asten—“young…person was your choice. You imbued him with your powers, how many years ago was it?”

“Millennia,” Anubis muttered tightly with a quick glance at Asten.

Ma'at smiled. “Exactly. You can only advocate for one mortal while they still live. And he does live…in a manner of speaking.”

“I will sponsor her,” the soft-spoken goddess, Nephthys, offered.

“Oh, Nephthys.” Ma'at clicked her tongue. “You are not allowed to take part in such a thing. You know that your rights have been stripped due to the actions of your errant husband.”

“I know,” Nephthys admitted. “It's just that I'd like to help.”

“Your help, I might remind you, is what got us all into this mess in the first place. If you hadn't been so keen on gaining the attention and approval of your husband, you would have told us what he was up to long before we had to call upon the Sons of Egypt for their assistance. Not that we blame you, dear. It is not unusual for a woman to compromise her values in order to gain the affection of a man.”

“Yes,” Nephthys said meekly. “Of course. I understand.”

My hands tightened into fists, and I had to work to keep my claws retracted. Tia bristled along with me. So far we didn't like the goddess of justice very much.

“It is within the bounds for
me
to sponsor someone,” Osiris interjected as he rose from his throne and approached the dais. “Is it not, Ma'at?”

The goddess hedged. “Technically, you have the right, Osiris. But in doing so you are allowing yourself to succumb to the powers of her heart scarab.”

“That is completely false,” he avowed. “You may judge my heart if you wish, but you know that I am bound to Isis. I love my wife. Our relationship offers me protection from the influence of the scarab. Anubis”—he gestured to the god holding up the wall—“may be under its sway…”

Glancing over at Anubis proved that Osiris had come to the right conclusion. Anubis had fixed his eyes on me and appeared unwilling to tear them away.

“…but I assure you I am not,” Osiris continued.

“That is all well and good,” Ma'at said. “However, I would caution you not to waste such a precious gift on one such as her.”

“Hey!” I spat.

She ignored me.

“Really?” Osiris said. “And why is that?” he asked as he folded his arms across his chest and appraised me, considering her words. But when she wasn't looking, he winked and I tried in vain to suppress an answering smile.

“First, she is still alive. We don't judge the living.” She cupped her hand around the bar of the scale and raised her stubborn chin, waiting for his retort.

“Is that the only thing?” Osiris asked calmly.

The goddess faltered for a moment. “No. There is more. She seeks to enter the netherworld to rescue her love. The last time we allowed something like this to happen, there were grave consequences. And his lost love, I'll remind you, was still residing here, in the afterlife, which is inherently less dangerous. That is why we decided to forbid such a thing.”

“Hmm.” Osiris turned to me. “Are you looking to save your love? To bring him back from the netherworld to be with you?” When I glanced at Ma'at and hesitated, he added, “You may speak.”

“I didn't think bringing him back to the mortal realm was even possible. As much as I want to be with him, we both know he has a duty to fulfill.”

“There.” Osiris smiled at me. “She has no intention of carrying him off.”

Ma'at gave him a slight roll of her eyes. “It's a technicality.”

“So is your adherence to the law,” Osiris said.

The goddess's face turned purple. “Don't you understand? She will not survive the journey! Amon is lost. Everything is out of balance. To lose her, too, is…it's unthinkable. She's too important!”

We're important?
I said to Tia.
What do you think she means?

I am not certain. Perhaps we should attempt to wrestle some more information from Anubis. He left us woefully unprepared for this tribunal.

He didn't even mention it,
I said.

Yes. It makes me wonder what else he forgot to mention.

Osiris calmly argued, “Her importance is indeterminate at best at this time. She followed all the rules to enter the afterlife and has presented herself for judgment appropriately.”

“That's because she had help,” Ma'at declared with frustration.

Osiris glanced at the frozen forms of Asten and Ahmose. With a wave of his hand, the enchantment disappeared and they both looked around in confusion. “Did the two of you offer this young woman help as you guided her here?”

Ahmose shook his head. “She went through the same trials as the disembodied. We did not assist or protect her in any way.”

“It wasn't necessary,” Asten said. “But if it had been, we would have,” he added honestly.

“You see?” Ma'at jumped on his answer. “They would break the law to help her. Just like Amon did when he escaped his judgment!”

Osiris interjected, “You cannot ignore the fact that we all agree she is vital. If she fails, everything falls apart. But if she succeeds…”

“If she succeeds, then there's a chance to bring back balance,” Nephthys said quietly. “It might turn things around. Turn
him
around.”

Ma'at sighed. “There's very little chance of that. I fear you are the only one left who holds out hope for him. You wish for an outcome that is so impossible as to be almost certain of failure.”

“Let's talk about what's really making you upset,” Anubis said.

Stiffening, Ma'at answered, “I don't know what you mean.”

“I think you do. You don't like that Amon didn't offer up his heart when you demanded it.”

“No one denies me,” she said sulkily while glaring at Anubis. “It is my calling, my right to weigh hearts. I am the great judge, the one who finds balance. How do you all expect me to accomplish anything when you constantly circumvent me? Even Amun-Ra—”

“Maybe you could judge his heart now,” I offered.

The goddess looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I was thinking you might be able to weigh his heart based on the heart scarab he gave me. Assuming such a thing is possible, of course.”

All the gods sucked in a collective breath, and I wondered if I had just committed a major afterlife faux pas. No one said anything for a moment, and when I looked to Asten and Ahmose, their backs were ramrod straight, neither of them daring to look in my direction.

Ma'at finally spoke. “No one has ever offered such a thing. You need to understand that a heart scarab is considered a very private and personal token of affection. What you propose has never been done before. I do not know if I can even weigh it or if the weighing of it will cause damage to your connection. I must also warn you that even should I manage to successfully judge it, you will be liable for anything I find.”

“Do you know what that means, Lily?” Anubis warned, concern shadowing over his eyes. “You will pay the price for Amon's actions, and not just during his mortal sojourn but for his entire existence, even the time he's spent in the netherworld.”

“I understand. I'm not afraid of what you'll find in Amon's heart.”

“It's not just you anymore, Lily,” Asten added with a frown. “Tia will pay the price as well.”

Tia?
I whispered in my mind as I put my hand over my chest, where my heart beat in a steady rhythm.

If you believe this to be the right course, I will follow,
Tia answered.

Are you certain?

If you are confident, then I am as well. I do not fear the outcome,
she said.
As we are unified of body, we will be unified in the face of the unknown. I am with you.

Okay,
I said, my heart swelling with emotion at the level of trust Tia showed me. I was so grateful not to be going through this alone.

“We will submit the scarab for judgment,” I declared, unclasping the brooch from my shoulder and handing it over.

“Well, since we're all getting along so much better at present, can we dispense with the gloom and doom?” Nephthys asked shyly.

“Oh, I suppose,” Ma'at said, obviously in a much better mood now that she had her prize. While she busied herself at the Scales of Justice, Nephthys rose from her throne and drew her hand in a wide arc from left to right. As she did so, the room shimmered. The dark stone became gleaming white tile trimmed in gold, and the torches transformed into sparkling sconces lit by soft candlelight. Chandeliers hung overhead. In each corner of the long hall there was an impressive statue of each of the four gods with a shrine set in the alcoves behind them. The music from earlier continued, though the musicians disappeared and tall vases were filled with long white feathers tipped in gold. They reminded me of Isis.

“Do they belong to your wife?” I asked Osiris as I pointed to the feathers.

He smiled sadly. “They are my only reminder of her during the long spans of time we spend apart.”

“Can't she stay here with you?” I asked.

“The law…,” he started to say, and then he gave a small shrug and a smile as he turned to watch Ma'at.

“The law stinks sometimes, doesn't it?” I said.