The Chaos of Stars
Page 6
That had been my plan, but now I want to see what’s going on here. And I really want to see Hathor get it for hanging out with Anubis. “But I—”
“NOW!” Her voice shoves me down the hall, and I trip and run into my room, slamming the door behind me.
My mother follows after a few short minutes, looking harried and distracted. “I need to know exactly what you have been dreaming of.”
“I can’t remember.” I look anywhere but at her. She’ll know I’m lying. She always knows. When I was little, it got to the point that if I even thought about doing something naughty, I’d get a headache anticipating her disapproving glare. She lets out a small noise like a hum, then puts her hand on her stomach.
“I do not like Anubis’s reappearance in our home, or the way he was looking at you. Normally I wouldn’t worry, but a woman is never more vulnerable than when she is with child and giving birth.” She sounds genuinely concerned.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but you’re not a woman. You’re a goddess.” I barely manage to avoid tacking on a so shut up about it already.
“Have you learned that little from our family history?”
“You mean lessons on incest? Betrayal? Jealousy? Murder? It doesn’t count as dying if you come back to life, which everyone always managed to do.”
“It is not myself I am worried about.” She reaches out and takes my hand with a strange, frightened intensity, and suddenly, in spite of my insistence that dreams are only dreams, I really, really want to know what hers have been about. Or I really, really don’t. I can’t decide.
“Well, I think I’m pretty safe. Who would care enough to hurt me?” In the grand scheme of things, I don’t matter. At all.
“With the baby coming, I worry. I can’t watch you. I should have known Anubis was in our temple, but I didn’t even feel him.” She reaches up and takes a strand of my long black hair between her fingers. “I wanted this baby to be something we did together, to bridge the gulf between us. To make us a family again.”
I grit my teeth. She’s such a liar. She only has babies to serve her own selfish purposes.
She lets go of my hair, nods like she’s come to a decision. “I won’t have you in danger. Which is why I’m sending you away.”
“Wait, you’re—what? You’re sending me away? That’s not fair! That’s—” That’s exactly what I want. Hope rises, lumping in my throat and threatening to choke me. “Okay,” I manage to squeak out.
“Nephthys mentioned it just now when I confided my worries. She thinks it would be for the best.”
I want to pump my fist in the air, to jump up and down on my bed. Nephthys, silent slouching Nephthys, actually came through for me!
“You should be safe at Horus’s.”
“No. No way. I will not go live with Whore-us!”
“I need to know you’re safe and that I don’t have to worry about you.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to be safe with Whore-us! He can’t even remember my name; what makes you think he’s going to watch out for me? And besides, you want me to spend all my time with Hathor?”
“I don’t know,” she says, her voice drifting off, worry clipping its edges.
I am winning. Idiot gods, I am going to win. This is the first time in my entire life I have been able to push my mother on an issue and actually get her to budge. I take a deep breath, determined not to blow it.
“If you’re going to send me away to keep me safe, you should really send me away. Somewhere far away, away from the gods, away from Egypt. If no one knows where I am except for you, I couldn’t be any safer, could I?”
“It’s out of the question. You are too young to go anywhere on your own.”
No, I can still make this happen. I have to. “You’re absolutely right.” I try to sound nervous, hesitant about leaving her. “If only we knew someone who lived outside of Egypt and was out of contact with everyone here.”
I gag on the thickness of my own hint. Please come to the same conclusion, Mother. Please.
“Hmm. There is Sirus.”
“Sirus?” I should win some sort of an award for the delicate inflection of surprise I weave through my voice.
“You remember Sirus, don’t you? He hasn’t been to visit since you were small.”
Of course I remember Sirus. He’s my favorite brother, the closest in age to me and the only nonweirdo. Sirus did it right. When he turned twenty and was set free, he cut ties completely, moving to San Diego.
“Yeah, I remember him. I guess that’d work, right? All the other gods have forgotten he even exists. And he’s really responsible.”
She frowns. “He drives cars for a living.” My mother thinks cars are distasteful. All that metal and plastic without personality or intelligence. Not much money in the chariot business, though.
I don’t answer. I hold my breath, keeping it caught in my chest with my hopes.
Finally she sighs. “I think it might be for the best. Only for the next two months, until the baby comes.”
I exhale so loudly she jumps, startled. On the inside I am screaming, spinning in dizzy circles, bidding my Egyptian prison farewell forever, because one thing is certain: Once I make it out of here, I am never, ever coming back. I will no longer be a temporary guest checked into the Hotel of the Gods.
My voice is utterly calm when I finally speak. “Okay. If you think it’s best.”
“NOW!” Her voice shoves me down the hall, and I trip and run into my room, slamming the door behind me.
My mother follows after a few short minutes, looking harried and distracted. “I need to know exactly what you have been dreaming of.”
“I can’t remember.” I look anywhere but at her. She’ll know I’m lying. She always knows. When I was little, it got to the point that if I even thought about doing something naughty, I’d get a headache anticipating her disapproving glare. She lets out a small noise like a hum, then puts her hand on her stomach.
“I do not like Anubis’s reappearance in our home, or the way he was looking at you. Normally I wouldn’t worry, but a woman is never more vulnerable than when she is with child and giving birth.” She sounds genuinely concerned.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but you’re not a woman. You’re a goddess.” I barely manage to avoid tacking on a so shut up about it already.
“Have you learned that little from our family history?”
“You mean lessons on incest? Betrayal? Jealousy? Murder? It doesn’t count as dying if you come back to life, which everyone always managed to do.”
“It is not myself I am worried about.” She reaches out and takes my hand with a strange, frightened intensity, and suddenly, in spite of my insistence that dreams are only dreams, I really, really want to know what hers have been about. Or I really, really don’t. I can’t decide.
“Well, I think I’m pretty safe. Who would care enough to hurt me?” In the grand scheme of things, I don’t matter. At all.
“With the baby coming, I worry. I can’t watch you. I should have known Anubis was in our temple, but I didn’t even feel him.” She reaches up and takes a strand of my long black hair between her fingers. “I wanted this baby to be something we did together, to bridge the gulf between us. To make us a family again.”
I grit my teeth. She’s such a liar. She only has babies to serve her own selfish purposes.
She lets go of my hair, nods like she’s come to a decision. “I won’t have you in danger. Which is why I’m sending you away.”
“Wait, you’re—what? You’re sending me away? That’s not fair! That’s—” That’s exactly what I want. Hope rises, lumping in my throat and threatening to choke me. “Okay,” I manage to squeak out.
“Nephthys mentioned it just now when I confided my worries. She thinks it would be for the best.”
I want to pump my fist in the air, to jump up and down on my bed. Nephthys, silent slouching Nephthys, actually came through for me!
“You should be safe at Horus’s.”
“No. No way. I will not go live with Whore-us!”
“I need to know you’re safe and that I don’t have to worry about you.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to be safe with Whore-us! He can’t even remember my name; what makes you think he’s going to watch out for me? And besides, you want me to spend all my time with Hathor?”
“I don’t know,” she says, her voice drifting off, worry clipping its edges.
I am winning. Idiot gods, I am going to win. This is the first time in my entire life I have been able to push my mother on an issue and actually get her to budge. I take a deep breath, determined not to blow it.
“If you’re going to send me away to keep me safe, you should really send me away. Somewhere far away, away from the gods, away from Egypt. If no one knows where I am except for you, I couldn’t be any safer, could I?”
“It’s out of the question. You are too young to go anywhere on your own.”
No, I can still make this happen. I have to. “You’re absolutely right.” I try to sound nervous, hesitant about leaving her. “If only we knew someone who lived outside of Egypt and was out of contact with everyone here.”
I gag on the thickness of my own hint. Please come to the same conclusion, Mother. Please.
“Hmm. There is Sirus.”
“Sirus?” I should win some sort of an award for the delicate inflection of surprise I weave through my voice.
“You remember Sirus, don’t you? He hasn’t been to visit since you were small.”
Of course I remember Sirus. He’s my favorite brother, the closest in age to me and the only nonweirdo. Sirus did it right. When he turned twenty and was set free, he cut ties completely, moving to San Diego.
“Yeah, I remember him. I guess that’d work, right? All the other gods have forgotten he even exists. And he’s really responsible.”
She frowns. “He drives cars for a living.” My mother thinks cars are distasteful. All that metal and plastic without personality or intelligence. Not much money in the chariot business, though.
I don’t answer. I hold my breath, keeping it caught in my chest with my hopes.
Finally she sighs. “I think it might be for the best. Only for the next two months, until the baby comes.”
I exhale so loudly she jumps, startled. On the inside I am screaming, spinning in dizzy circles, bidding my Egyptian prison farewell forever, because one thing is certain: Once I make it out of here, I am never, ever coming back. I will no longer be a temporary guest checked into the Hotel of the Gods.
My voice is utterly calm when I finally speak. “Okay. If you think it’s best.”
