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.