The Chaos of Stars

A strange, muffled chirping sound goes off in the background, and I think nothing of it until Ry nudges me. “Is that your phone?”

“Oh, yeah.” I frown, pulling it out. I’m still not used to getting calls. Then I see the caller ID and my stomach clenches. Speak of the moon goddess. “Floods,” I mutter, hitting connect. “What?”

“Hi, Little Heart.”

“Mother? The connection’s bad. You need to speak up.” I can barely hear her—her voice sounds weak.

“I’m sorry, dear. I’m so tired these days. You haven’t emailed me.”

I roll my eyes, grateful she can’t see it through the phone. I wasn’t allowed to roll my eyes at home. So I do it again for good measure. “I haven’t emailed because there’s nothing to tell.” The phone hangs in dead silence for a few moments. Of course she’d call me and then not even talk. I should tell her I’m in a park with a Greek boy, eating Greek food. That’d get her talking. “Mother? You still there?”

“Yes.”

There is something off about her voice, though. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Things feel different with this baby. Off. I wish you could come home and help me. But the dreams haven’t stopped, and I won’t place you back in harm’s way.”

I want to be annoyed at her for calling to make me feel guilty, but I really never have heard her sound like this. “What about Osiris? He needs to do more for you. And you should call your sister.” Nephthys helped me out, and I think she knows most of the spells and charms my mother does.

“She’s already here. She’s been a great comfort and help, unlike Hathor, who won’t even let Horus visit. She has been acting very strange lately.”

“Well, I’m glad Nephthys is there. You’re going to be fine. Right?”

“Oh, I am sure I will be. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

She’s a goddess. How could I worry about her? I don’t like hearing her sound so . . . normal, though. And I can’t help but remember the twisted memories I’ve been dreaming, what happens to her in them. But no. She’s immortal.

I’ve never seen her pregnant, is all. This must be business as usual. “Have Nephthys make you some of that honey tea. We still have all of the stuff in the pantry. I’ll email you tonight, okay?”

“Okay. Good-bye, Little Heart.”

“Bye.” I slide the phone shut and sigh. I don’t need to worry about her. She’s a goddess. Her goddess sister is there helping her out.

“Everything okay?” Ry asks.

?

?It’s fine.”

He gives me this look that says he knows it’s not and he wishes I’d tell him why. Then it relaxes and he leans back, a cocky smile on his face. “I know what you need. Come on.” He takes my trash and throws it away, then we walk back along the harbor, lined on one side by old, slimy-green overgrown concrete holding back the water, and on the other by old, not-slimy people selling all manner of nonsense, mostly revolving around the idea that tie-dye is an acceptable vacation purchase. A massive aircraft carrier looms above us like a floating skyscraper. A few other ships bob gently just out of reach, all museums now, and then we come to a dark, weathered-wood restaurant built into the pier out over the water. It is positively crawling with people.

“Good food? I’m pretty full.”

“Wait right here,” Ry cautions solemnly.

Folding my arms and giving him a pointed look meant to let him know that I am nothing if not impatient, I turn and watch as bike taxis pedal by, their drivers chatting to each other in Eastern languages, mostly complaining about the heat that day and the customers who don’t tip.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I hold back a sigh as I pull it out, expecting my mother again. Instead it’s a text from Tyler, asking if we’re still on for a movie night tonight. I even manage to punctuate everything correctly as I tell her yes, and I’m excited to see her. We’re still waiting on approval for the museum room, and our shifts haven’t been matching up as often. I finish the text right when Ry comes out holding two cups.

“So,” he says, beaming, “which flavor do you want? Bright-blue sugar, or bright-orange sugar? They had pink-sugar flavor, too, but it didn’t strike me as your style.”

I reach for the cup full of blue stuff. My fingers brush his and it makes me feel so strange I almost spill the cup yanking it back. “What are these?”

“You’ve never had a slushie?”

“Nope.”

“Pretty much the best thing in creation. Take a sip. Go on.”