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 un
known. 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.
Osiris laughed briefly. “Yes. It does…stink.” He wrapped his mouth around the last word as if he’d never heard it said like that before. He glanced in my direction. “It is very brave. What you’re doing, you know. We all think so.”
“Apparently not everyone,” I stage-whispered, and gestured to the goddess bending over the scales.
“She’s not usually so testy,” he explained. “She blames herself for what Seth did.”
“Why?”
“She is responsible for separating chaos from order. When chaos began to take over, she felt it was her own weakness that caused it. After Seth was imprisoned, she decided to adhere to the law even more strictly in the hope that such a thing could never happen again. Ma’at took the loss of our grandparents hard. Attempting to find absolute cosmic harmony was how she coped with everything that happened.
“She forgot that the purpose of the law and the protection and justice it offers is often more important than the law itself. Mercy must always balance justice. Unfortunately, she seems to have neglected that aspect over the centuries. It’s why she likes to keep Nephthys close. She’s the voice of mercy to balance out Ma’at’s unwavering adherence to rules.”
Osiris smiled and then continued gesturing at the hall. “That’s why this place is often called the Hall of Two Truths.”
“Meaning the truth of justice and the truth of mercy?” I asked, my own power of discerning the truth coming into play.
“That’s right.”
“We are ready,” Ma’at said. “Osiris, are you certain you want to stand for her?”
“I am,” he answered.
“Very well. Then we shall begin.”
Ma’at placed the heart scarab on a stand next to the large scale and then approached a golden box set atop a pedestal that hadn’t been there until Nephthys transformed the hall. From inside the box, Ma’at reverently drew out the object.
“This is the Feather of Justice,” she said. “Its weight is so light as to be inconsequential. When a heart is free of evil, it is not weighed down by sorrow or guilt. In this case, the scale will balance and the person may retain their heart and is admitted into paradise. This type of heart is very uncommon. When a soul has committed some wrongdoing but has expressed sorrow, made recompense, and learned from the experience, allowing it to mold their heart into a kinder, more empathetic one, then the scales dip only slightly and that person is also admitted into paradise. This is the most common type of heart.”
“And when a person has committed evil?” I asked, wetting my lips.
“An evildoer’s heart is heavy. The weight of it depends on the quantity and the depth of the crimes they’ve committed. In some cases such a person can be rehabilitated.” I nodded, remembering the shabti workers in the Field of Reeds. “But in many instances,” she went on, “such a heart has no place here and it, along with its owner, is sent to the netherworld, a place of torment and suffering, and eventually they succumb to their second and final death. Their life essence, then, if it doesn’t feed the Devourer, will return to the Waters of Chaos.”
Ma’at brandished the feather, raising it to the sky before placing it gently upon the scale. The feather looked much different from the feathers of Isis. It almost appeared as if it were made of glass.
“It’s diamond,” Osiris said, like he was reading my mind.
The glistening feather did look crystalline, almost as if it had beads of water clinging to it. Now I knew that each branch was a thin diamond with a tiny diamond drop on each tipped barb. When she picked up the heart scarab, I panicked for a second and mentally crossed my fingers, hoping that whatever happened next wouldn’t hurt Amon and that I was doing the right thing.
“Let us begin,” Ma’at said. Looking directly at me, she again asked, “What is your condition?”
I bit my lip, pondering the right answer, and was about to say human or sphinx, when Osiris said, “Their hearts are guiltless. They are free of every sin.”
“Have you committed violence?”
This time Osiris stepped back and nodded that I should answer.
“Only when attacked.”
“And to eat,” Tia added.
“I have struck down innocent beasts who murdered my teacher,” Osiris said. “I have punished those who hurt my subjects, but I have never enjoyed violence.”
I glanced over at Osiris, my brow knit in puzzlement. He appeared to be in a sort of trance. Thinking back over his words, I realized he wasn’t speaking for himself. Osiris was channeling Amon.
Ma’at nodded, satisfied with our answers, and I noticed a tiny dip in the heart. “Have you ever taken that which did not belong to you?”
“I have not,” Tia answered confidently.
Osiris spoke next. “I took Ahmose’s toy boat when we were young. I was jealous that his was better made and faster than mine. I sank it in the Nile and never told him, though he cried.”
I glanced over at Ahmose, and his expression was one of surprise and then forgiveness.
“And you, Lily?” Ma’at asked.
I shrugged. “I never had the need to take anything that didn’t belong to me. My parents gave me whatever I asked for, and I never spent enough time with other children to make friends, let alone take what they had.”
The goddess turned to glance at the scale. A slight frown furrowed her brow, but it was soon gone and she asked the next question.
“Have you ever committed perjury, hidden the truth, or deceived another?”
Again Tia stated boldly, “I have always been truthful.”
I grimaced, wishing I were more like Tia. “I’ve lied—frequently, if I’m being honest. I hid the scarab from Anubis. My parents don’t even know I’m here. They have no idea I’m a sphinx. They think I’m at my nana’s house right now. They don’t know about Amon or what happened this past spring. I told them I was happy with the plans they’d made for me, when in truth I dread every second of my future. I’ve told so many white lies to their friends and colleagues I can’t even remember all of them. I even lied about coloring my hair!”
Nephthys put her hand over her mouth and giggled but ceased immediately after a sharp look from Ma’at. “And why did you tell all these untruths, Lily?” she asked.
“Mostly so they wouldn’t worry.”
“Were you trying to escape punishment?”
“Not really. My life at home is a punishment. There wasn’t anything they could do to make me more miserable than what they�
�d already planned for me. I just wanted to keep Amon’s secret and I didn’t think they’d understand.”
The scarab dipped as Ma’at cast judgment, and this time it was clearly visible.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit hard on her for that one?” Anubis said, and I noted that he stood much closer to me now than he had been before.
“It is not your call to make,” Ma’at answered stiffly. “And, Amon?” She gestured to Osiris.
“I lied to Lily. I made her think I didn’t care about her when I was falling in love with her. I told my brothers we could successfully complete the ceremony to align the sun, moon, and stars without her, when I knew we would fail. I put her welfare ahead of my duty,” Osiris murmured in his trance state. “When Asten and Ahmose asked what was wrong, I kept my feelings from them. They didn’t know how desperate I was to get out. To escape. How I would sacrifice anything, including my relationship with them, even the very cosmos, to be with her.
“She doesn’t know that without her, there is no hope for me. No life. Only death and darkness. She thought I was brave in sacrificing myself in the pyramid, but if Anubis had given me just a few more minutes alone with her, I would have used all the power at my disposal, even the Eye of Horus, to hide the two of us in the farthest reaches of the cosmos. If I’d known that she would have agreed, I would have gladly spent my life trying to avoid the gods just to be with her. After my death, escape to the netherworld was my only option. Since my leap, I’ve used every power at my disposal to prevent her from sacrificing herself for me, and yet a part of me is glad that we are still connected and that she still wants to be with me as much as I want to be with her. I’d do anything for her. Anything. This was the reason I refused the weighing of my heart.”
When Osiris was done speaking, the room was silent. A trail of tears leaked down my face. If Amon had asked me to run away, I think I would have gone. Especially if it meant he didn’t have to die. I wasn’t sure what that made me that I would put my relationship, the life of one man, the man I loved, over the well-being of all the souls who lived in the cosmos, but it was something to consider. It was Anubis who finally broke the silence.