by Jonah Hewitt
Lucy looked at him incredulously. “She made you soup?” She chuckled a little.
“Oh yes. Your mother makes the most bitter soup I’ve ever tasted!”
Lucy looked at him as if she couldn’t decide what was weirder, that her mother made bitter soup or that Nephys said it like it was a good thing.
“She’s not even afraid of him!” Nephys gave the little bagpipe a friendly kick.
“BLAARNT!” The imp glared back at him and huffed as if his imp reputation had been maligned.
“Really?”
“You should see her boss him around. It’s really something.”
Lucy smiled and squeezed his hand again. “She’s an Aggie. They just don’t know when to give up.”
Nephys didn’t know what an “Aggie” was, but he knew the rest of it was true.
“I wanted to say thank you, y’know, for bringing me the note,” she said a while later. Nephys could see her hand tighten around the note in her bathrobe pocket. Nephys didn’t know what to say, so he just said nothing.
“Isn’t it funny?” Lucy said after a moment.
“What?” Nephys asked, confused.
“You don’t want to go, and I don’t want to stay.”
Nephys didn’t know what to say to that. It was true. He had lived so much in the last few hours, it pained him to go back and yet he knew he had to. Still it made him sad that Lucy would rather give up on life than remain here.
“I envy you, y’know,” she said a minute later.
“What do you mean?”
“When this is over, you get to go back to my mother, and I’ll be here stuck by myself. It’s like you’re stealing my happy ending.”
Nephys looked down. He wasn’t trying to steal anyone’s happy ending. It wasn’t his fault.
“But that’s the way it has to be, isn’t it?”
If she was waiting for an answer, Nephys didn’t know what it was.
“I was wondering if you could take a message back to her for me?”
“Um…” Nephys said uncertainly.
“Warrnt?” Hiero said in an unapproving manner.
“Um, I’m not sure.” Nephys looked behind him to see what Hiero was doing with his butcher knife.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “It’s nothing that’s going to change the world or anything.”
“Um…okay, what is it?”
“Not now,” she said giving his hand an extra squeeze, “I’ll tell you later. I think the sun is about to come up.”
Nephys looked to the top of the stone wall under the canopy of trees. Already the whole sky was light, and the light to the east was warm and bright yellow. It was more light than he had seen in a thousand years. It seemed impossible that it could get much brighter, then above the wall appeared a thin sliver of brilliant red. It grew until it was fully a half circle and the whole world exploded into light. As it rose, it went from red, to yellow to blinding white, like a coal getting hotter. It was so bright it hurt his eyes, and though he desperately wanted to keep watching it, he had to raise his hand to stop the glare. He could even see it through his eyelids when he closed his eyes, and it was so bright it eclipsed the Death Sight entirely. All he could see with his eyes closed was the warm, bright glow of the sun.
Egypt was a sun-drenched land, but during his life he had never appreciated the Lord Aten as much as he did right now. The sun was more brilliant and warm and joyous than he ever remembered and just the thought of it made him believe he could endure another ten thousand years of Limbo with just that one memory alone.
Lucy turned to him and smiled and he smiled back.
“Now if there are no further requests,” it was Moríro’s irritated voice.
Lucy sighed and turned to face Nephys. “I think you have to go now,” she whispered.
“I think so.”
Moríro continued in an authoritative tone, “We must hurry. The child of Limbo, and the stone must be returned to the underworld to prevent anyone from attempting to open the gate from this side ever again. They were never meant to be in the world of the living.” Moríro gave Hokharty another sideward glance. That was obviously meant for him.
“FAAAARNT-ffT!” Hiero tooted.
Moríro looked down on the bagpipes. “To say nothing of this abomination,” he said with clear contempt and disgust.
Hiero spat a wad of phlegm from his blowpipe onto Moríro’s combat boots.
Hokharty seemed disturbed by the light, but he wasn’t bursting into flames just yet. Somewhere he must have learned how to endure the light, Nephys guessed. He placed a hand on Nephys’ shoulder for one last message, “When you arrive, go straight to the Great Master’s chambers. I will see you there, Nefer far-sighted.”
“Um…yes, Chamberlain…er…I mean…Hokharty.”
Hokharty smiled and stepped away.
Moríro bridled at this interruption and then continued, “Nephys, if you will take the stone in your hand, and then Lucy, you place your hand on his.”
Lucy handed the stone to Nephys. In the sunlight it was glowing brighter than it had ever before. He gripped it tightly and Lucy placed her hand over his.
“Ahem. We don’t want to forget anyone,” Moríro said, annoyed.
“Oh!” Nephys reached down and picked up Hiero tucking him under one arm like…well, like a bagpipe.
“BUUUFAAARNT!!” The imp protested, struggling.
“Oh, hush! It will only be for a minute!” Nephys admonished him and gave his sheep stomach bag body a squeeze that made the imp’s eye’s bulge and tongue stick out while a horrible honk emitted from all three back pipes.
“Flubbit” it tooted wretchedly.
“Now…Necromancer,” Moríro continued in a condescending fashion, “You must search for the point of resistance…once you find it…”
“Yes, I know,” Lucy said confidently rolling her eyes, “I’ve done this before, y’know.”
“Of course, Necromancer,” Moríro said, chagrined.
Lucy pushed their clenched hands towards Nephys’ chest and found the resistance almost immediately. She gritted her teeth, but pushed forward anyway and a blue-white sphere of light formed between them just to one side of their hands. It grew until it formed a tunnel of light, with the sound of rushing wind everywhere. It was much easier for her this time. It was nearly large enough to step through in just a few minutes.
“Don’t keep it open too long!” Moríro warned.
The tunnel grew until Nephys could see the dark tunnel on the opposite side – it was now large enough for him to go. He was staring at it intently wondering when he should step through when he realized something he had just forgotten.
“Lucy!” he turned to look frantically at her, “Lucy! Your message! What is it?!”
Lucy just smiled, “Give her one of these and tell her this for me.” She pulled him into a tight bear hug and whispered into his ear, and then she pushed him through the gate.
Nephys sat cross-legged on the floor outside the Great Master’s chambers. He had been waiting for some time. The trip home had been pretty awful. He had emerged on the Limbo side of the gate in a freezing torrent of souls. Fortunately, he’d had the stone to protect him. And it was easier to go with the current than against it. Even then, Hiero had dragged him most of the way.
When they crossed the causeway and arrived at the plaza on the opposite side, it was still in a state of chaos. Souls were meandering everywhere and the children of Limbo had not yet recovered from the cataclysm. No one was taking names for the moment, but they were trying to impose some semblance of order by getting the souls to at least queue up and wait until things got settled. It was all very disorganized and painfully slow. Some of the spirits were strangely compliant, organizing themselves into lines though, for some strange reason, they took their shoes off while grumbling amongst themselves about something called the “TSA.” When they reached the other side of the plaza, Hiero began stamping and stabbing the ground impatiently and Nephys gave
him leave. He knew right where he was going, straight to Maggie.
Once past the pandemonium of the new arrivals, the way was extremely easy however, due in large part to a new thoroughfare carved out by the Great Master himself. When he left his temple under the acropolis, he had traveled in a straight line directly to the causeway, totally disregarding any existing roads or streets. The massive beast simply plowed through the center of the city, obliterating everything in its path. The tombs and old citadels of Limbo crumbled to dust beneath its withering touch, leaving a wide, flat and level boulevard through the heart of the city, more than a thousand feet wide. It certainly made traveling to the temple far easier. Nephys had arrived in no time at the door behind the massive heads. There was far more rubble strewn around the gateway, but the door itself was the same inscrutable rectangle of imperishable stone with inky, timeless blackness beyond. Nephys wasn’t sure how Death had left the Temple, but he certainly didn’t come this way, the door, as big as it was, was still far too small.
There at the massive entrance, Graber, that is the Herald, was waiting for him. Now he knew why the Necromancers were nameless. They didn’t want just anyone summoning them. Nephys wondered if he had already made his exit above or if he was just on a quick trip back. Either way, he never said a word, as usual, and led him right to the Great Master’s chamber as before, past all the usual courtiers and their odd fashion statements. Since then, it was just a lot of waiting.
Nephys sat cross-legged in his usual scribe’s position and pulled on his toes anxiously. He had a hard time staying still, let alone concentrating on where he was or what he was doing. He tried to adopt the same calm and reserve as he did before but every time he tried to clear his head, images of Lucy, or Miles, or Tim, or even that wonderful stuff called mustard, popped into his head. His time on earth had changed him, and he was not certain if he could be a proper child of Limbo anymore.
As he thought about this, the large doors to the chamber opened. He immediately jumped up in fear and then fell to his knees and pressed his head to the floor. The amber light flooded the room as before. He heard the same rasping breath, the scratching of claws on the hard stone floor, but he didn’t dare look up. There was no temptation to look this time. Once seeing the Great Master was more than enough. In a short while, the amber light faded back to a narrow sliver meaning the door was closing. When it disappeared entirely he looked up.
Walking slowly towards him was the familiar form of the Chamberlain exactly as he had seen him the last time he was here. Nephys thought he looked much better in robes and silver than he did in those strange blue-green clothes on earth. Nephys closed his natural eyes for a moment and looked on the Chamberlain with his Death Sight. The soul light was there now. It was still small and faint, but brighter than before.
“Chamberlain,” Nephys said, standing up to bow.
“There is no need for titles or genuflection anymore, Nefer,” Hokharty said simply. As he walked towards where Nephys was now standing, he removed the silver mask of Horus, the silver collar, and the silver finger coverings and all the other markings of his office. He dropped them to the floor and as they touched it, they disintegrated into dust that blew away into nothingness.
“For you see, I am no longer the Chamberlain.” When he stopped just a few feet from where Nephys was, he was wearing only a simple black linen robe. His eyes were as clouded as before, sightless, but Nephys thought his face was softer and wiser now, though tinged with sadness, as if the wisdom were purchased at a very great price.
“Not the Chamberlain?” Nephys said amazed.
“Yes, Nefer. I am to be exiled from Limbo, and must surrender the position. The Great Master has been most insistent on that matter.”
Hokharty looked away with a far off look.
“I must admit it is with great sadness that I leave this post. Did you know that I have held this position for nearly five thousand years? Almost as long as my predecessor.”
“Your predecessor?”
“Yes, you’ve met him.”
“Have I?!”
“Oh yes, he helped you to the Gates of Erebus, I believe.”
“You mean Anubis…I mean Apnu?” Nephys remembered Hokharty’s preference for the old pronunciations, even as his mind boggled at the thought of Anubis being the previous Chamberlain.
“Yes,” Hokharty said simply, “I wonder, did he say anything to you on your journey?”
Nephys thought back on the babbling stone giant’s nonsense. “I guess,” he said uncertainly.
“I should like to talk to you about it, and it appears we may get the chance.”
Nephys looked at Hokharty expectantly.
“The Great Master has meted out mercy with justice. In light of my late assistance to the current Necromancer, he has issued a momentary reprieve from exile and allowed me to choose a temporary position here in Limbo. I have chosen to be the Scriptorium Master.”
“Scriptorium Master?!” Nephys nearly burst out laughing. Falco was going to eat his toga! To think that Falco had hoped for promotion just days ago, only to be sacked instead! It was almost too good.
Hokharty must have seen the giddiness in Nephys’ reaction because he too smiled.
“Now, if you will forgive me, I must be going, far-sighted one.” Hokharty bowed once to
Nephys and began to walk away.
He was nearly out the door when Nephys realized something important and called after him.
“Wait! Chamberlain! I mean Hokharty, that is…Scriptorium Master.”
Hokharty stopped in the doorway and looked back to Nephys.
“Yes, Nefer?” he said casually.
Nephys pulled the stone from his robes and held it flat in his hand. It wasn’t as brilliant as on earth, but it filled the room with light.
“What am I to do with the stone?”
“That,” Hokharty smiled, “Is a question for the new Chamberlain.” And with that, Hokharty turned and disappeared into the darkness of the outer courts. Nephys waited in confusion for a moment, before he suddenly saw his own shadow, illuminated by a long rectangle of amber light. The door behind him was opening again! He froze in his tracks. A second long shadow grew behind him until it eclipsed his own, and then the amber rectangle of light narrowed to a sliver and disappeared. The new Chamberlain was standing right behind him!
Nephys slowly turned, keeping his eyes on the ground. Instead of silver sandals and long, black linen robes he saw black slender shoes in calfskin and knee-high tights and black velvet breeches. His eyes moved slowly upward. Above that was a black doublet embroidered with silver daggers and slashed sleeves, showing more silver underneath. It was the dress of a nobleman from Europe he thought, from a few centuries ago. Only a part of the doublet was open to show a round, bloody hole over the heart. A large floor-length cloak hung from the shoulders and above that was a large lace ruff, also silver in color. Perched on the ruff with an imperious stare was the lean and lined face of a man, with an immaculate, trimmed van dyke beard and closely cropped hair. His eyes were clearer than Hokharty’s, but they were still clouded. It was Lazlo Moríro.
“Necromancer!” Nephys exclaimed stunned, before correcting himself and bowing. “I mean…Chamberlain.”
Nephys looked up at the Spaniard while bowing. He marveled how the necromancers could split their souls and be in two places at once – he had just left Moríro in the world above. Just to check, he closed his eyes momentarily and used the Death Sight. Behind Moríro’s bullet wound there was a bright heart flame, burning fiercely.
Moríro looked self-conscious as Nephys examined him and he pulled his robe over the wound. All the other necromancers seemed strangely proud of their wounds, but Moríro looked embarrassed by all this ceremony.
“Enough!” he said in his usual acerbic voice. “We are all servants here. You needn’t stand on protocol or there would be no end of bowing!” he said impatiently. It was Moríro all right.
“Yes, Chamberlain,” N
ephys said as he bowed again compulsively. He quickly stood up and cringed. Moríro was rolling his eyes at him with his hands behind his back.
Nephys felt embarrassed and then suddenly remembered why he was there.
“I…I have the stone, Chamberlain.” Nephys held out the stone. It was odd to be replaying this scene here in the afterlife, when just hours ago they were doing it in the world above outside Lucy’s house. He regretted parting with the stone now as much as he did then, more so perhaps, because here it was his only reminder of life, while above, life was all around him. Moríro regarded the dazzling stone carefully. He pulled one hand from behind his back slowly and nearly plucked it from Nephys’ hand before stopping inches above it. He looked at the stone contemplatively, concentrating intently on it. Only then did Nephys realize. He was already having trouble seeing its light. His sight was fading just as all others’ sight had faded. He withdrew the hand quickly, placed it behind his back with the other and looked pensive. Finally, he spoke.
“The stone must remain hidden in the underworld, but I am not certain that the best hiding place is in the possession of the Chamberlain.”
“Chamberlain?” Nephys said confused.
“The Halls of Death have become treacherous,” he said as if trying to describe the weather and not some latent conspiracy. “It is best if we put temptation out of sight.”
Nephys just blinked at him confused.
“The stone is yours, scribe,” Moríro said curtly.
“Chamberlain?!” Nephys said in equal parts joy and confusion.
“No one else in the underworld can see the stone. To them it is invisible, a mere pebble, but to you, you see it as it truly is. It seems to me that you would be the ideal keeper of the stone. Keep it well hidden.”
Nephys closed his hand on the stone quickly as if he was afraid Moríro would change his mind.
“Thank you, Chamberlain!! THANK YOU!” And he bowed again, several times, despite Moríro’s obvious discomfort.
He stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do next when Moríro said simply, “You may go now.”
