xanth 40 - isis orb (35 page)

Hapless wasn’t sure what else she could have done. Osiris had been a faithful husband, as far as he knew.

“Worse was our brother Typho, Nephthys’s husband, who was jealous of Osiris’s power and possibly of his wife’s infidelity with Osiris, and wanted to kill him. But how could he? Osiris was stronger than he, and I was constantly alert against further mischief. But Typho was cunning. He managed to get Osiris’s measurements, then made a chest of that exact size and brought it to the banqueting room to show it off. It was richly ornamented and beautiful; he promised to give it to anyone who fit it. All the others tried lying down in it, but none fit perfectly. The last to try it was Osiris himself, and he lay down in it. Whereupon the conspirators rushed in and clapped the cover on, and nailed it down and poured melted lead over to seal it. Then they carried it away to the Nile River and on to the sea, where it floated away and was lost amidst the waves.” There was that coffin, disappearing into the sea.

When Isis heard the news, she cut off one of the locks of her hair, and put on a mourning gown, and searched the whole country for the chest. Because it was her power to restore life to the dead, and she wanted to revive Osiris if only she could find him. But for years she was unsuccessful, catching only fleeting rumors that turned out to be false. Until at last she received news from demons that the chest had floated to the coast of the city of Byblos and gently lodged in the branches of a bush by the shore. In a short time, buoyed by the ambiance of the chest and the body within it, the bush had grown up into a large and beautiful tree, which grew around the chest on every side and hid it from outside view.

Furthermore, the King of Byblos saw the tree and was amazed by its unusual size. So he had the tree cut down, and made that part of the trunk into a pillar to support the roof of his house. Isis traveled to Byblos and settled herself down by the side of a fountain, refusing to speak to anyone except the queen’s maids. The townsfolk marveled at the sight of this lovely woman, whom they did not know to be a goddess. When the queen’s maids came, she saluted and caressed them in the kindest manner, and plaited their hair, and imbued them with a wonderful perfume that issued from her own body.

When they returned to their mistress the Queen Astarte, she marveled at the loveliness of their hair and fragrance of their bodies, and wanted to meet this remarkable stranger. Thus the anonymous Isis was brought into the presence of the Queen, who conversed with her briefly, was charmed, and made her a nurse to one of her sons.

Isis fed the child by giving him her finger to suck instead of the breast, and such was her power that this fed him well. She also every night put him into the fire, in order to consume his mortal part, replacing it with immortal flesh. She kept watch over him by transforming herself into a swallow and hovering around the pillar and bemoaning her sad fate. But one night the queen stood watching her, saw the child all in flame, cried out in protest, and that deprived him of the immortality he would otherwise have had. But he was otherwise uninjured, and the queen realized that it was no ordinary nurse who took care of him. She was sorry she had interfered.

Then Isis identified herself, and asked that the pillar that supported the roof be given to her. This was done, and they replaced it with another. Isis cut it open, took out the chest, then wrapped the remainder of the trunk in fine linen, poured perfumed oil on it, and returned it to the king and queen. Then she threw herself upon the chest, making such a loud and terrible lamentation that the younger of the king’s sons was frightened out of his life. But the elder son, whom she had cared for, survived, and she took him with her when she set sail for Egypt. When the river sent forth a rough breeze she was angry, and dried up its current. Even natural things learned not to mess with the Goddess.

She conveyed the chest to a desert place, and thinking herself to be alone, she opened the chest and laid her face upon her dead husband’s face. She embraced the corpse, weeping bitterly. But the little boy had sneaked up behind her and saw what happened. In her sudden anger she gave him so stern a look that he died of the affright. Then she hid the chest in a secret place, for it would take time and preparation for her to develop the magic to bring her beloved back to life. But Typho discovered it, and tore the body into fourteen pieces. That forced Isis to make another search for the pieces, using a boat made of papyrus to maneuver through the fen. When a crocodile threatened her she gave it such a look that ever since no crocodile has ever attacked a papyrus boat. In time she found all the pieces of the body but one: the privy member. She needed that to generate a son who would avenge the murder of his father. So she made an imitation member, and reanimated her beloved for a while, all she could do in the circumstance, and used that to (signal the stork) and beget her son, Orus. She raised him, and his father visited him from the other realm and instructed him in arms and gave him the incentive for vengeance.

In due course Orus, grown, challenged Typho, and they fought for many days until Orus got the better of him and made him prisoner. He turned Typho over to Isis for safekeeping while he rested. And Isis, the giver of life, discovered she could not deliberately kill her brother, despite what he had done. She loosed his hands and set him free.

When Orus learned of this, he was so angry that he laid hands on his mother, pulled off her royal headdress, and cut off her head. He transformed the head into that of a cow, and put it back on her body. So she lived, but not in a nice manner. She had become a cowgirl.

“But the greatest indignity was when the Christians came,” Isis concluded. “They were a recent sect that borrowed my history, but put the name of the Virgin Mary on me, and the name Jesus on my son Orus. Thereafter few knew who I was; my identity had been stolen by the newcomers. They even took over our sacred holidays, renaming them to be Christian. That religion spread rapidly throughout the Roman Empire and continued after its demise; it was very popular, of course, but I myself had become anonymous.”

She shrugged. “And that is my ancient history. I was betrayed by my sister, and my brother, and then by my son, and finally by my worshipers, after five thousand years of doing my utmost for them. It leaves a sour taste, and has rankled for a thousand years.”

Hapless, expecting to oppose the Goddess, found himself in deep sympathy with her plight. To suffer identity theft, and see the credit that should have gone to her, taken by another—that was maddening and humiliating. She was older than she looked, by about six or eight thousand years, but she had a case.

“Now we know your background,” Zed said. “But that is only the preparation for us to understand your whole truth. How does this relate to our use of the Orb?”

Isis nodded. “Now you understand why I am disenchanted with what you call Mundania. I tried my best to help my worshipers and the men in my life, but in the end I was betrayed, by all except my beloved Osiris, who was similarly betrayed, and died. That realm has nothing left for me. So I looked for a new realm, and a new start.”

She took a breath. “This time I would leave the faithful suffering wife and mother bit behind, so as not to get bleeped again. This time I would focus on just one thing: my own selfish desires. I would stop being the good girl, who is a patsy, and start being the bad girl, who knows what’s what and how to get what she wants.”

Hapless could not refute her logic. She had certainly given the positive role its chance. But he was sorry it hadn’t worked out for her.

“I searched for centuries,” Isis continued. “I checked all the alternate mythologies. But they tended to be misogynistic, reducing women to serfs or worse, and with limited roles for aspiring queens. Until recent times, when new kinds of fantasy developed. And I rather liked the look of Xanth. It had plenty of magic, and a population in need of religion. So I applied to the relevant Demons, Earth and Xanth: where I came from, where I wanted to go. They allowed me to move to Xanth only if I performed a significant service for them, so I was constrained to agree.”

“Service?” Zed asked.

“To guard the magic Earth had won from Xanth, and see that no one stole it. Because it remained in the Land of Xanth, where Demon Earth himself could not guard it. He wanted one of his own for the role, and the Demon Xanth had to agree.”

“The Orb!” Hapless exclaimed.

“Not exactly.”

“Now you’re getting evasive again!”

Myst was awake now, having slept through anything that might have strained the Adult Conspiracy. “No, she’s near the Whole Truth now. It’s complicated.”

Isis smiled stunningly. “Thank you, child.”

“So what is it, exactly?” Zed asked, no more patient with this circularity than Hapless was.

“The magic could not be handled by a regular mortal,” Isis said. “It required someone with formidable magic of her own. That meant a sorceress, demoness, or a goddess. Sorceresses are mortal, and demons can’t be trusted. That left me. But neither Earth nor Xanth completely trusted me. They feared I had ambition for power.”

“And don’t you?” Zed asked.

“Of course I do! What’s the point of coming to a new realm, if not to rule it? But they begrudged me that favor. In fact they set it up so that there were formidable constraints that effectively prevented me from achieving it. Not completely, because then I would have spurned the deal; there had to be a chance. It was a compromise. There is a route, but it is devious in the extreme. I had no choice but to accept the deal; otherwise I would not have gotten into Xanth at all. I am not pleased.” She frowned, and the nearest potted plant wilted.

“Constraints?” Zed asked.

“First, I was confined to the idiotic comic strip. That is normally limited to the first World of Ida, Ptero, but I managed to disrupt the flow slightly so that a section got loose and landed on Xanth proper. Second, I was allowed to employ only illusion for my personal use. Hence this castle, which is more apparent than real, as you have discovered. Back home in Egypt I could have made it real. Third I could not touch the cache of magic directly; it could be drawn on only through the control mechanism of the Orb. The Orb bears about the same relation to the magic as your Totems do to their Regions: they can draw on their power, but don’t change the nature of the Regions. Fourth, I could not use the Orb myself; only some third party can do that. Fifth, even that third party can control the Orb only via the combined powers of the Totems.”

Now Hapless was getting a glimmering. “We have the Totems. That’s why we had to get them.”

“Smart boy,” Isis said, her tone implying nothing of the kind. “Without the Totems you would be completely unable to address the Orb, and thus be unable to make it perform. You did come prepared.”

“But you said there is no Orb,” Zed reminded her.

“There is no Orb now,” Isis agreed. “It has to be brought into existence. Just as you brought the Totems into existence.”

“By taming their guardians!” Feline exclaimed. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Surely it does, catgirl.”

“But where is its guardian?” Hapless asked, perplexed.

The five Companions merely looked at him. So did Merge and Myst. And so did the Goddess. He was being stupid again.

Oh, no! “
You’re
the guardian!” Hapless said.

“In that sense, yes,” Isis agreed.

“So we have to—to tame you.”

“In a manner. But you will not accomplish that feat by force. This is my temporary domain; I will counter any attempt. I am not an animal like the Region guardians. You must deal with me on my terms.”

“You’ll do it voluntarily?” Hapless asked, not trusting this.

“Of course not. Once I become the Orb, I will lose personal volition. You will be my master. That does not appeal.”

“Then why are you talking with us?” Hapless asked. “Why did you let us in?”

“Could I have barred you?”

“Well, no. But you are treating us like guests.”

“That is part of the illusion. You are not guests; you are an invading army.”

“We just want to get our wishes granted!”

“I don’t suppose I could persuade you simply to give it up and depart?”

“No,” Hapless said.

“Then we shall have to engage in serious negotiation. You want to invoke the Orb in order to get your innocent little wishes granted. I want to use it to achieve ultimate power in Xanth. I could grant your wishes on my own, without invoking the Orb. Would that be satisfactory to you?”

Hapless was surprised. “Uh—”

“What’s your price?” Zed asked.

“That Hapless invoke the Orb and use it only to grant
my
wishes.”

Zed nodded. “Because you can’t use the Orb yourself, even when you
are
the Orb. You need him to draw on its immense power to further your own wish.”

“You would have to trust him to do it,” Feline said.

“Why me?” Hapless asked. “I’m nobody.”

The Goddess turned to address him. “Several reasons. Your party consists of five crossbreeds and yourself. A crossbreed won’t do for my purpose.”

“Why not?”

“Because I will need to marry you, and for that I need a full human male.”

“Marry me!” Hapless exclaimed. Feline and Merge looked as appalled as he was. The bad girl was making her move boldly and publicly.

“I take that as an exclamation rather than as an offer.”

“It’s astonishment,” Hapless said. “You’re a goddess! I’m nothing.”

“You are far from nothing, Hapless. You are what is available. Not many suitable prospects blunder into the comic strip. Apart from that there are three reasons for me to choose you. You are a virgin; that is precious to a woman who has had seven thousand years experience with supremely potent males. That fleeting initial naiveté is charming. Second, your formidable talent, which you understand only in part, that is responsible for your success so far in the Quest. Third, a quality of your character. That is most important.”

“But—”

“Shall we discuss the terms of engagement?”