Dark Journey

“Please, sit down,” she said. “I can offer something to drink and a little fruit, if you wish.”

“No,” Daniel said. He continued to stand by the small table in front of the couch until Isis took her seat, and then he perched on the edge of the couch, a muscle in his jaw jumping faintly.

“Who was it, Daniel?” she asked. “Who did you see outside the depository?”

Daniel blinked as if he didn’t understand her question. “Why were those people protesting?” he said, changing the subject without warning.

“There are always a few citizens who resent the necessary part they play in keeping our city strong.”

“I didn’t see any violence. Why were the protesters arrested?”

“It was overzealous on the Lawkeepers’ part,” she said, equally bewildered by their actions. “It was not necessary.”

“Not if you have free speech in Tanis,” he said. “Do you?”

“Even your Enclaves do not have completely free speech,” she said, “but we do what we can to encourage it here.”

“Just not today,” Daniel said. “What will happen to the protesters?”

“Since Bes defused the situation, they will be sent home with a reminder not to disturb the peace.”

“And if the same people do it again?”

“I do not know,” she admitted. “As long as they remain peaceful—”

“What do you do with humans who won’t give blood?”

“We encourage them to seek a place that better suits their preferences.”

“You eject them from the city.”

“Only if we have no other choice, and even then we provide them with all the resources they require. As we discussed, there are human colonies to take them in.”

“And packs of rogues to deal with along the way.”

“Would you have a society without rules?” she asked. “Would you permit citizens to flout the law at will? Unimpeded aggression among the people of Tanis?”

“Opiri thrive on aggression,” he said. “How often do they flout your laws? Do they steal blood from unwilling humans?”

“I have never heard of such a thing occurring here.”

“If they did, would they face similar punishment?”

“There is no favoritism, Daniel.”

He stared down at the glass table and moved a small vase a few inches to one side, his hand clutching the fragile vessel as if it were a weapon. “But humans, of course, need more looking after,” he said. “You said it yourself. It is your place to guide.” He looked up. “Is that what Bes was doing?”

“He knew those people, and—”

“He persuaded them to back down. He used the same influence you do, even when you don’t realize it.”

“We have had this discussion before. What I—”

“In this future you envision, can there really be any free will for humanity?”

“We Elders have lived for thousands of years,” she said. “Is it so wrong to give others the benefit of our experience?”

“But does your experience apply to humans?” He counted off on his fingers. “Isis. Ishtar. Bes. Hera. They all have one thing in common, aside from being Elders. It isn’t just coincidence that you’re all named after ancient gods, is it?”

Isis knew the time for prevarication was long past. “You have guessed,” she said, lifting her chin. “We once acted as gods and goddesses among your kind, very long ago.”

“You ruled humanity, even before the Long Sleep, when most of your kind went into hibernation.”

“Humans made us what we became.”

“But you went along with their delusions. And, eventually, you left the people who worshipped you. You became myth. And then, after the War between your kind and mine, you rose again to rule as you did before.”

“That was never our intention.”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with your intentions.” He smiled crookedly. “Isis. If I remember correctly, she was the protector of mothers and children, the Lady of Magic, friend of slaves. Your ability to influence others would have seemed like magic in ancient times. And you’ve already proven yourself a friend of slaves, haven’t you?”

* * *

Isis was beautiful in her injured pride, her head high, her eyes flashing. As he watched her, Daniel could almost forget what he had seen at the depository and in Hera’s ward. He could almost accept that everything Isis said was true...all her hopes, her dreams, her faith in Tanis’s ultimate success.

“I helped to guide Egypt for over two thousand years,” she said, a slight note of defensiveness in her voice. “I did not rule. That was the work of mortal kings. I was there for humans who sought my help, and I gave them advice and encouragement when I could.” She met Daniel’s gaze. “Is that such a terrible thing?”

“And were all your fellow gods so benevolent?”

“Some had almost nothing to do with humanity, but merely took on the aspects of deities created by humans. Bes was a god of mothers and childbirth, as I was, and also a protector of the household. He is a good Opir.”

“At least his intentions are,” Daniel said. “What about Hera? Was she so benevolent?”

“She has changed from the time I knew her long ago,” Isis said with obvious regret.

“And Ishtar?” he asked. “She was a goddess of fertility and sex. She still uses her powers for seduction to get her way, no matter what you and the other Nine intended.”

“You did not respond.”

“Maybe that’s because I was thinking of another goddess.”

The words came out of his mouth without any thought behind them, but he realized at once that they were true. He had been thinking of Isis every moment that Ishtar had been doing her best to seduce him. Isis, with her dark eyes and lovely body and her odd trust in him. Trust he’d done little enough to earn.

“If you...think well of me,” she said, “you cannot believe that I have ever used my influence to harm any human.”

Daniel stepped around the table, coming very close to her. “You’ve been honest with me, more than you had to be. I saw you with that baby and his mother. You weren’t faking your affection.” Very cautiously he touched her cheek with his fingertips, doing his best to ignore the rush of desire that came with the contact. “You weren’t faking in my room, either, were you?”

She trembled. “Perhaps, as you suggested, I wished to learn something about you that I couldn’t get any other way.”