Oh, I loved him, so much so that I could hardly contain myself. “But wait.” My mirth was short-lived. “Thoth said I had one trial left.”
“Yes, Osiris said the same.” Meryt turned to the patiently waiting god. “Another challenge?”
“Yes,” Osiris confirmed, his expression neutral but not unkind. “But as I had a reunion with my beloved, so too do you deserve yours.”
Osiris moved to a long table against the wall that was currently empty and slowly began to rid himself of his adornments, starting with his customary conical-shaped crown with red and teal ostrich feathers on either side of it. His head was shaved beneath, and while he was green-skinned, similar to Ptah, rather than accented with lines like the movement of landscapes and seas, Osiris’s green had undertones of black and gold, like polished metal.
He removed the bangles from his wrists, as well as his false beard, which came free the same as Ptah’s too, leaving a small bronze stripe. His body was loosely covered in mummification wrappings, like what I remembered fearing of the walking dead should one rise from the crypts, yet the linen looked fresh and clean, pure white like the sheets on the bed, as if only just applied to him.
Over the wrappings across his chest was a gold, red, and teal collar, which he also removed, leaving only his white loinclothwith its beaded belt. The front piece fell to knee-length with cords of red knotted among the folds of fabric, like a mimic of spilled blood.
When he faced us again, I finally noticed the whites of his eyes, for the entirety of them were white, irises and all, so bright that they almost glowed, as if he might be blind, yet there was no mistaking how piercingly he looked at us.
“Are we… to perform for you, my lord?” Meryt asked.
I had been wondering the same for why else would we be allowed to be together? “You, Osiris,” I said, “who has perhaps the greatest love story ever told, succeeded, or rather, yourwifedid, where I hope to.”
“Yes, and to put back together what is dead and broken is no simple task.” Osiris moved toward us as fluidly as he spoke. “But to answer your question, it is I who must ask: how would you proceed with the god of the underworld as your audience?”
Was this my trial? Was how we chose to interact with Osiris how he judged me?
“Nakht?” Meryt prompted, and I returned my attention to the wondrous sight of him.
I had yet to release his hands and brought the left, his ring specifically, back to my lips to kiss it again. “One of my secrets laid bare while I was with Thoth is that I sometimes hate seeing you with others. Onlysometimes.”
Meryt chuckled. “That isn’t much of a secret.”
“Other times, I love it.”
“That isn’t a secret either. But I think you love it most when you are part of the performance, and when you can be certain our third is there for pleasure alone, at no risk of tempting either of us from the other.”
“Yes. You know me so well.”
Osiris spoke with the same calming patience. “Pleasure from the shared enjoyment of others is also appreciated by my wife,for she knows my heart is always hers, as you are… each other’s?”
“Of course,” I nearly snapped, for there should never be any doubt, not from Meryt or the gods.
“Always,” Meryt agreed.
“Then as I said…” Osiris nodded from us to the bed. “What we do from here is up to you.”
My first thought was that it seemed wrong to exclude Osiris when the other gods had all known me, but it also seemed wrong formeto decide when Meryt was finally here with me. “You choose,” I told him. “I would not deny you the chance to join me in the godly ecstasies I have known, and whatever your desires, I will follow where you lead me.”
I could tell in the mischievous glance Meryt offered the wrapped god that he too did not want to exclude Osiris, whose love story he adored. “In that case, my love,” he said, pulling his right hand from my grasp to cup my cheek, “as we move forward, tell me, as you never could when we danced or gave ourselves to Pharaoh and his men, whenever a moment passes that you hate rather than enjoy. We will only share love and seal whatever comes next for us in that truth.”
“Command me then.” I nuzzled into his touch. “Dusk to my dawn.”
“Gladly, dawn to my dusk.” Meryt leaned into me to kiss me once more, reassuring me with that press of lips, but when I tried to push the kiss deeper, he pulled away and grinned, leaving me hanging on a tease. He kept hold of my gaze as he sauntered toward Osiris, who seemed intrigued, awaiting what we offered. “Watch,” Meryt said, “not as you would before, wary of upsetting our audience, but like Pharaoh would, believing all I am is yours and fearing no reprisal for making that known.
“My lord?” He turned to face Osiris. “Can there be music?”
Osiris snapped his fingers, and from the very walls came the lively yet sensuous melody and percussion of an unseen band of players.
With tears drying and eyes heavy lidded, Meryt sank his body into the sound like I had seen so many times before, giving himself fully to the music. He twirled, arms arching above his head and hips swaying, making one wonder whether more of him might be revealed should the fabric of his loincloth swish too far.
It was entrancing, for he danced as if already in the throes of passion, making it clear what his body was capable of and practically demanding for its offer to be accepted.
Take me, it said.I am yours to be claimed.
