My own grandfather looked like my brother, but even he was withering with age; it showed in his laugh lines, I wondered when he would finally be done, finally want to be set free from the rules that bound us to this earth.
“Did you hear anything I just said?” Horus asked with a soft chuckle.
“Yes. A virgin. Good luck finding a goddess that will actually appease him.” I snorted.
“He’s already found one. A human,” Horus said under his breath.
I turned and gave him a confused look. “What? A human?”
“Royal.” He shrugged. “Like that helps.”
“Exactly!” I was disgusted. “We don’t mix for a reason. Our bloodlines don’t allow it. The last time it happened, Ra was not pleased, the Creator was even more displeased, and we were almost at war!”
“Her father,” Horus kept talking, “is one of the last remaining Greek gods with sustainable power, Apollo. The alliance would be beneficial to everyone involved.”
“You said she was human,” I corrected.
“She’s mostly human, apparently Apollo wanted her to have a normal life, so he begged the Creator for a boon—take her godliness from her blood, but leave her beauty.”
I snorted. “And he said yes?”
“He said there was a reason.”
My body was on edge as I clenched my teeth. “There always is, isn’t there?”
Horus nodded his head toward the temple. “We should visit.”
“He’ll burn us on site.”
“Maybe you…” Horus said with a burst of laughter.
I just rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault he’s scared of me now that he knows what I do. He will always fear his death. I don’t take it personally.”
“You shouldn’t. Not until you surpass him in power, as you’re already doing.”
I ignored him, even though I knew there had been whispers that the more my father fed his dark side, the more strength the Creator gave me, the more dominion I had.
“We all see it,” Horus said softly. “One day you will take over and I’m glad for it. No other god is better.”
“You mean older,” I joked trying to take the attention away from myself as much as possible, because if my own brother knew this, then everyone else did too, including my own very jealous father.
“Try not to break a hip,” he teased.
We both laughed and then raced across the desert, back to our father’s temple and his people.
It was a beautiful prison painted as one of the most enormous temples in the Nile.
Set wasn’t evil, but he wasn’t good either. He bargained, he wagered, he craved the war between the last remaining gods because he knew with his two sons on his side, along with Ra, we wouldn’t fail.
The Greeks didn’t stand a chance.
Which begged the question, why an alliance?
“Why,” Horus said echoing my very thoughts as if they were his own. “Indeed.”
Two hours later…
I could live a million years and never tire of the sight. The gates of Set and Osiris. White marble columns rose from the desert floor. Brilliant jewels shone from above, casting beams of colored light in all directions. Everywhere the eye could see, gleaming gold decorated pillars and trellises, and more jewels winked from settings in the marble walls. And no matter where we were inside the giant city gates, there was laughter, the smell of food, sweet meats, flowers. Every breath inhaled was a gift of fragrance from the most expensive perfume money could buy.