Anubis’ return had put Bast in an extremely good mood. There was nothing she liked better in the world than getting exactly what she wanted, and her brother coming home ranked pretty damn high on the getting what she wanted list. He’d even brought her a present. A real one.

Pleased with her present, with her brother, and with life in general, Bast decided that she deserved to celebrate. So she was going to go do something rather naughty, slightly dangerous, and a whole lot of fun. She was going to tug the tiger’s tail. ( She was going to tease Fatima. )

Long past exhaustion, Nephthys flew.

She'd hidden for over ten years at the top of the world. Burrowed into the tiniest village she could find, on the furthest mountainside in Tibet, Nepthys had closed her eyes, swathed herself in furs, and imagined that she'd never known any world but Tibet. It had worked, at least until Set arrived. As usual, he left her uprooted and devastated, half-naked and weeping, whispering in her ear the command to return home, which was somewhere between an invitation and a threat. Reunions with her husband had been predictably going like that for several hundred years by now. Fifteen years ago, he'd found her on a bridge in Bosnia. Before that, it was Ireland.

Each time, she fled, and he hung around to cause a bit of bloody chaos in her wake.

Taking the form of a falcon, she flew on and on, pushing herself until her wings faltered from exhaustion, threatening to plummet her to the ground. It was time to go home. She needed home, needed Isis, needed the haven that her sister could provide. It might not last. A decade or two would be all she could bear, and then she'd be gone again, disappearing to the jungles of the Congo, or forgetting herself in the Australian outback.

Soon enough she'd flee. For now, it was time to regain her title, to stand once more at her sister's side. Egypt ran in every drop of her blood. Her very bones thrummed with longing for home.

Set wouldn't know she'd come back, not yet. The longer she could keep him from finding out, the better. She needed time with her sister, time to cope with the reassumed weight of godhood, before she would be ready to face her husband's temper again. Would he be glad she'd come home?

It had been near two thousand years since she left him, and had been running ever since. He'd done nothing to deserve her abandonment--well, nothing more than he'd been doing for thousands of years before that. She'd just left, in a quest to find herself. He didn't understand. Perhaps he couldn't understand. He'd never liked the fact that she had a mind of her own, even if it was much of the reason he loved her. She still wasn't sure if she was ready to return to him. It would be easier to be permanently estranged. Easier to pretend she wasn't hollow with longing for the love of her life. Nothing left her more fulfilled and more drained than spending time with Set.

Weary muscles blazing with pain, Nephthys flew, one wingbeat at a time. The Nile unraveled beneath her, hot desert winds lifting her wings. Only a little further. Her wings guttered, faltering, but she didn't want to stop and rest, not when she was so near. So close now.

Spiraling dangerously downwards, she pulled up twice, only barely dampening her speed. She needed no direction to find her sister's home. Isis might not be there, but someone would be, and anyone in the goddess' employ would have enough sense to recognize Nephthys. Braking one last time, Nephthys spread her wings fully, aching with the effort it took to slow her descent. She slowed only enough to keep herself from breaking any bones, then folded, and crashed.

Half-dead, tiny heart pounding at lightspeed, divine Nephthys collapsed upon a lounge on Isis' balcony, like a wounded bird. Not even bothering to return to her human form, she slept, lost in the healing darkness of dreams.

Nephthys was home.

Peace.

The trouble with it was that it tended to leave one with time to think. To ponder things that might be better left alone. Isis had never learned to leave well enough alone, though. Not when it came to those she cared about.

While Nergal's visit had been rather insightful, it was a different visitor that she was reflecting on. She had thoroughly enjoyed showing Sigyn around her homeland, and had been delighted once again to see the change that had come about in the goddess. She was a far cry from the lost woman that had been looking at hats and ended up crying in Isis' villa, admitting to having chosen at one point to give up on life. All because of one man. A man that had recently returned to her life.

Nergal was feeling confused and upset; two emotions that never mixed well with the volatile Sumerian. He decided that he needed to talk to someone he did not think hurt his sister or had anything to do with her disappearance. That made for a very short list. He also wanted to speak with someone that had some level of intelligence to them. That made the list even shorter. And someone he felt would be trustworthy. That narrowed the list down to two. One was Ninlil, of course, but he did not want to cause her any undue concern. The other was a foreigner, but one this was very highly respected. This was one he had better not lose his temper with.

Nergal knew if he wanted to get any advise from her, he was going to have to remain calm. And that meant he needed to find a way to work off some of the stress he had been carrying around. Since he had already made his way to Egypt, it would be bad manners to start a war here. But he had other ways to relieve his tension. And he might be able to avoid using any Egyptians to do it. Luckily, it didn’t take long before some idiot European vagabond tried to pick the Sumerian’s pocket. The War God caught the would-be thief’s hand and gave him a very dangerous smile.

( it was a few hours later... )

Two weeks had passed since Bast had come to her home for help. It had eventually turned out to be a pleasant day for the mother and daughter.  They spent much of the day just lounging about, once Bast had recovered from her injuries, and enjoyed a good deal of pleasant conversation, plenty of wine, and several bowls of Cocoa Puffs (of which Isis flat out refused to partake in).

She'd had a rude awakening, learning her daughter had first chosen another person for comfort before herself, but she tried to put herself in Bast's shoes and see it for what it was. At least she went to someone even her mother trusted. All in all, she could see why Kitten would have gone to Bes first, and understood that at least part of it was to avoid worrying her mother, something else the Queen could understand.

Waffles would have been nice. On any other day, Bast would have stuck around after waking up in Bes’ place, especially since he’d promised breakfast, and hung out for a while before going to find trouble. Probably with him in tow. But before she even opened her eyes, she knew her prediction had been right and she couldn’t put it off any longer.

( She was going to have to go see her mother. )

Her talk with Thoth had confirmed what Sekhmet had expected; the war between Set and Horus had ended before it even had time to begin. That was more than fine with Sek. She might be a goddess of war, but she had been dreading the thought of having to go to war against her own people. If it had gone all the way, she would have fought with Set, even though that meant she would have fought her beloved Isis and Bast. It would not have been loyalty to either Upper or Lower Egypt that would have kept her at Set’s side; it would have been because Horus was in the wrong.

Luckily, Sia had gotten off his cloud (or whatever) and he had made Thoth put things to right. Set had his crown back and was off nursing his bruised ego. She had a sneaking suspicion that Horus was doing the same thing. Sek wasn’t too concerned about either of those boys, they both had been long overdue for getting taken down a peg or two. She was, however, worried about Isis. Thoth said he had spoken to her as well.

Poor Isis may have had a big hand in how the whole mess had started, but Sek could understand her motivation. Isis had only been trying to help her son, like any good mother. It might not have been completely legal, but considering Horus’ history with Set it was a reasonable thing to do. Sek hoped Thoth hadn’t been too hard on Isis. She really hadn’t done anything that terrible.

Although, Sek was still upset that no one got pictures of Set as the Toad of Chaos.

Sekhmet went to Isis’ home and thought about knocking. But that was rarely something any of them worried about. At least it was something Sek rarely worried about. Age had its privileges after all.

“Aset? Hey, baby, are you available to a cranky old lioness?”

Harmonia knocked, she huffed and she sighed before knocking once more with her nose all wrinkled up. Sif may have said Tyr wasn't home, but she honestly wanted to check for herself. Just to be sure, because this time she really wanted him to have been home. Except that given the amount of knocking with the lack of response, it definitely seemed that the golden-haired goddess was more than just correct.

( She was completely and utterly correct. )

Thoth rubbed his forehead. This was becoming a tiresome task, intervening between the three of them. After this, he wanted a vacation to someplace warm and tropical. Somewhere away from Egypt and drama-hungry Egyptians. Somewhere with little drinks with umbrellas and sunny beaches. But first... but first he needed to finish the final stage of something that was just growing more and more exhausting each time he did it. Set was difficult, but Thoth had expected that. Eventually, he'd come around. He'd not see logic the way that Thoth and the elders did, but he would come around.

( He always had before. )

She’d put it off for as long as her conscious would allow. The side trip to see Nanshe had been a bit of willful disobedience, a necessary diversion. At least, necessary to Bast. There was simply something in her make-up that would not allow her to do exactly as she was told. Even if she was the one to do the telling. The pause to see her friend in the middle of her spying mission for her mother was a needed bit of independence, though she only allowed it for herself because she knew nothing she had to report was all that important.

Briefly Bast considered going to see Horus. If only to tell him to stop pissing in the sandbox. If only to see the look on his face. There was a rather wicked urge to poke at him, because really, he took things far too seriously. He was probably taking this far too seriously. Got his undies in a twist over something that he should long since have resolved himself to. She would back him in any fight that came; he was not only her king, he was her brother. But that didn’t mean that she didn’t think he was occasionally kinda dumb.

( Like now. )

“Hedylogos is dead.”

Sigyn stood frozen to the spot as the two foreign gods simply dropped that bombshell and then left. Left her inhaling the smell of smoke in the charred remains of the room around her. Left her surrounded by the twisted and broken corpses of once familiar servants. Left her, hollow and frozen inside. Left her without Hedylogos. ( Her brother was dead. )

Isis hated waiting. She was a woman of action, not one to sit idly by while strategies were decided that would determine the fate of her country. Her mind wouldn't rest, continually going over the same unsolvable puzzles.

At least she and her son had reached a sort of reconciliation. But so much was still unresolved. She hadn't heard from Bast yet, and had no idea how things were progressing with Sekhmet. Had Thoth even gone to see Set, and if so, what had happened? And then there was Gwydyon. Isis still wasn't sure what to make of his supposed friendly warning. Was there an ulterior motive?

Oh, this was ridiculous! She couldn't answer these questions, and yet she couldn't stop asking them. She needed a distraction, to get away if even only for a few hours. Not much was likely to drastically change in one afternoon, and if it did, she would certainly hear immediately.

What to do was the next question. She didn't want to just go shopping, her mind wouldn't be nearly distracted enough. She contemplated the theater, but she didn't really feel like anything that formal. With a flash of inspiration, she smiled. Why not? It had been some time since she had visited Germany and seen her old friend.

Changing into jeans and cream-colored sweater far more climate appropriate for where she was heading, Isis grabbed a basket and filled it with a few bottles of her latest batch of beer. Deciding she really should bring something to snack on, she packed a container of dukkah, an Egyptian dish consisting of ground nuts and spices, along with some flat bread and olive oil designed for dipping into the crumbly mixture. After putting on her coat, she slipped her game of Senet under her arm, grabbed the basket, and took a step, appearing before Ninkasi's front door. Ringing the bell lightly, she really hoped her friend wouldn't mind her arriving unannounced.

Isis had never carried any weapons, what need had she of those? Her magic was the only weapon she had ever needed, and even then it was rarely used for such lowly things as fighting. Hence, she was quickly escorted to  Thoth's study, where it appeared he had been busy. Planning her punishment, no doubt. Scrolls, books and papers cluttered nearly every surface of the room. She wondered if anywhere in that mess he would find the knowledge of having a heart and a little compassion for someone who had lost their only love, and was struggling to find the right way to handle it. She doubted it. Nothing on earth mattered as much as that damnable treaty.

She supposed that wasn't fair, really. Thoth had never done anything to harm her, exactly, and they really did like each other, despite the obviously different points of view they had regarding Chaos. Well, she had tried to warn him, but he was blinded by his insistence on Balance. She wondered how he would take this particular news flash.

"Good evening, Uncle. I hope you are feeling well." She had enough respect for him to wait for him to go through the usual motions of offering her something to drink, and the usual hospitalities. She herself was quite a gracious hostess, under most circumstances, but he took such things to a different extreme. She suspected it had something to do with living among the stuffy British for so long. She wasn't sure she herself had actually seen one laugh. But it was where he enjoyed living, and far be it for her to judge. Though how he could stand the constant dampness was entirely beyond her.

Thoth or Horus? It was an easy question, one that required little thought. When she left Gwydyon, Isis immediately split; part of her going to London, the other to her son's temple. Horus might not be pleased with the notion, but if there was anyone at all who could calm Set down, it was probably Thoth. Gwydyon's warnings had left more questions than answers, but she had no doubt the family could handle whatever needed to be done. It was really just a question of how.

He was an odd one, this Gwydyon. Isis still couldn't understand why he went out of his way to find her. He assured her he could handle whatever Set threw his way, despite her own thoughts to the contrary, so he hadn't been seeking aid or refuge. It wasn't as if she'd spent much time with him either, when they first met and she retrieved his captive, so their were no bonds of friendship or loyalty there. At least not then. She was still sure there was a certain scoundrel aspect to him, something dark that simmered under the surface. Nice guys didn't usually turn someone into a toad. There had been something in his eyes, too, something that spoke of mischief, and perhaps a bit more...not evil, exactly, but something that said he was not someone to cross. And yet he did something that seemed little more than a good deed. Something told her she hadn't seen the last of this particular Welshman. Nor, likely, had her daughter, she surmised, remembering the exchanged looks.

Maybe she should have just killed Set when the opportunity presented itself, and damn the treaty, the thought of balance, and damn her brother, as well. It sure would have saved them all a lot of trouble. But it wasn't in her. She was Life, after all, and doing such a thing went against her very existence. Something else Horus would do well to remember.

Appearing in his temple, she went straight to the throne room. Considering their last conversation, she half contemplated prostrating herself before him to make a point, but decided it was best not to start out on the wrong foot. It was already likely things would go sour soon enough. Instead she nodded her head in slight deference to his position, greeting him informally, "Good afternoon, Horus. I come bearing news for the ear of the King."

This was so not how Bast wanted to spend her day. It was certainly not how she’d envisioned spending it after getting a good look at the god that had appeared beside her on the park bench. It was not how she’d hoped their meeting would go once she’d started speaking to him.

Unfortunately, Gwydyon insisted on speaking with her mother. Which sort of ruined all the wicked and salacious plans that Bast had dreamed up while speaking with him. Not even she would forgo knowledge of whatever trouble Set was causing for some quick fun with an unknown god. Maybe more than some quick fun, she amended as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Again, she reminded herself that knowing what the God of Chaos was up to was necessary in order to keep her brother safe.

( But, man, was the featherhead going to owe her for this one. )

After all the help that Isis had given her, Sigyn couldn’t help but feel that it was only fair to let her friend know how things were going with her. Especially in regards to Loki. It was always nice to know how well your advice had been received, and how things had turned out. Her conversation with Hedylogos reminded Sigyn that he wasn’t the only one she’d not seen in a while. It had been far too long since she’d spoken with the Egyptian queen as well, and she was sure that Isis would be happy for her.

Though that wasn’t her only reason in going. There were still some questions, and a great deal of uncertainty. The Norse goddess could use the practical, objective eyes of her friend to look the situation over. Maybe in discussing the problem with Isis, Sigyn would be able to find a solution herself. It did seem sometimes that if you talked about something, you could see it in a different light, catch perspectives that you hadn’t seen on first glance. And as much as Sigyn adored Hedy, despite the fact that he was a love god, there really wasn’t anything quite like talking to another woman about what was troubling a female heart.

Besides, despite Hedy’s assurances, she didn’t want to be in the way of the party his mother was throwing. Though she didn’t want to delve into it too deeply, there was also a small fear in Sigyn’s heart that if he saw them side by side, the family he’d grown up with and the woman now living in his home, she would come out looking somewhat worse for wear. Especially since the only family member she had met thus far had been threatened with a knife. That had turned out well enough in the end, Pothos was a nice boy even if he did seem a little too eager to find a bed partner. But it hadn’t been a good beginning, and she didn’t want to have any sort of repeat embarrassment to shame Hedylogos in front of his family. It was much better that she remove herself for a little while.

And then, of course, there was that lovely red tea that Isis had on hand in her home. Sigyn was slowly becoming addicted.

All of those reasons, added to the indefinable quality that formed a tie of affection between friends, had Sigyn standing on Isis’ doorstep. There was no pause between her arrival and her hand ringing the bell to announce her presence, she was rather excited to see her friend since so much had happened since their educational trip to the Louvre. She was certain that as happy as Isis had been to see her patch things up with Idun, she’d be even more so to find out that things were progressing with Loki. It was with excited anticipation that she impatiently waited for Fatima to open the door.

Set was gone. Banished from Egypt. She should be celebrating.

Instead, she sat on her bed, sobbing. What had gone wrong? She had brought the god to Horus, giving him the chance for redemption, instead of choosing to handle the situation on her own. And in the end he turned on her. Set, on the other hand, had chosen to calmly mock her pain. She was only mildly surprised at his reaction. Horus had only ever experienced one side of Chaos, while she, on the other hand, had grown up with him, lived with him, known his many sides. The fact that he had left with a veiled threat didn't surprise her. She had known he wouldn't just let it go, but his threats didn't frighten her. She was the Great Lady of Magic. Turning a toad back to human form had taken little effort at all on her part. She had once restored a dead god, for goodness' sake! Even that wasn't difficult. There was little Set could throw her way that she couldn't overcome. Nonetheless, his reaction was to be expected.

"Take very good care of this. Don't worry, he can't do anything while he is in this case," she explained to Fatima. "I want to surprise Horus, and I don't want him to pick up on his uncle's presence until the time is right. I will call you when I am ready." Gazing down at her prize, a smile smile played on her lips. "You look hungry. Are you hungry, dear brother?" With a flick of her finger, a pair of flies buzzed in confusion inside the little box. Seeing the toad's sudden agitation, she pretended to misinterpret his objections. "Oh, I'm soooo sorry, that really isn't suitable fare for a king, is it? Here, this might be better." The flies disappeared, replaced with a sparkling firefly. "Maybe after you've swallowed that, it'll warm your heart a little."

Sitting as he was, just beneath the thin spire that capped Cairo Tower, Gwydyon couldn't see what was so special about Egypt. Before Set had interrupted his time there, he'd been enjoying himself, hadn't he? It was sadistic to torture people like that. Gwydon stared at his palms, open as they were, through the gaps between his fingers to the crowd below. None of them seemed to have noticed him. Torture wasn't something that enjoyed, wasn't even something that he did unless it was absolutely necessary. Much the same for his treatment of Set. Rude of him to interrupt? Certainly. Worthy of being turned into a toad, probably not. He didn't think, for some reason, that any promise he extracted from Set would ensure the business between them was at an end. He didn't fear the Egyptian god, but Gwydyon certainly didn't need another reason to wander or try to stay out of trouble. There were enough of those wandering around, Gwydyon was sure of that.

( Very sure. )

She sipped her licorice root tea, gazing out at the flowing Nile. It was proof positive that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Who was it that said that? She couldn't remember, but it certainly was true. Since the beginning of time, the Great River had stayed its course, except where humans had forced it to relocate as they built their modern wonders. But still it flowed, sustaining life in an otherwise lifeless land.