Limbo's Child (90 page)

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,” Nephys 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.”

“Thank you, Chamberlain,” Nephys said, and he had to restrain himself from bowing again. He paused only momentarily before turning to go. He was nearly to the door when the Chamberlain said one last thing.

“Margarita,” he called out to Nephys. Nephys turned around.

“Margarita…that is…
Maggie
…you will let her know that Lucia, that is…
Lucy
…is all right?”

“Yes, Chamberlain, absolutely,” Nephys said simply.

The Chamberlain straightened his doublet and craned his neck as if somewhat satisfied by this answer, and said flatly, “Bueno. Good.”

Nephys stood frozen for another moment before the Chamberlain began to look impatient. “Enough! Go! Va via!”

Nephys didn’t wait to be told again.

The trip back to his tomb was a bit slower than the trip to the Halls of Death. Normally, except when shifts were changing, the streets of Limbo were utterly vacant. Even when there was a shift change, everyone queued up in neat lines, but today, everyone was wandering about the streets in a state of agitation. Children of Limbo were engaging in the unheard of practice of actually gathering together in large groups to discuss the events of the past day or just to find comfort in others’ company. Death’s little foray into the city seemed to be the only thing that could shake Limbo out of its perpetual apathy. When Nephys turned the corner he wasn’t at all surprised to find the largest crowd he had seen so far congregated outside his little tomb.

Maggie was standing in a group of about a hundred children; smoothing brows and kissing skinned knees and giving out hugs like candy. Nephys smiled and broke into a run. Maggie saw him coming and instantly lit up.

“Nep!” she shouted and tried to break free from the crowd to meet him. The whole crowd followed after her like she was a mother hen. When they met in the middle of the street, Nephys stopped a little short and looked at her awkwardly, but she just said, “Oh stop being silly!” and pulled him into a big bear hug.

When she finally let him go she looked at him and held him by his shoulders, smiling and nearly on the verge of crying.

“When I saw that little gasbag galumphing down the street I just…
knew
…” she swallowed hard and started to choke up and never got the rest out.

Hiero bleated out a string of flat-note obscenities and stabbed the ground mercilessly.

“What’s his problem? I mean…more than usual,” Nephys asked.

“Oh, he’s just mad I didn’t head for the Temple of Bastet the second you two left.”

“Oh…” Nephys said, clueless as to what that meant.

“So she got the note, huh?” Maggie eventually said smiling. Nephys nodded emphatically. Then he remembered something he wanted to say, “Lucy wanted me to give you a message.”

“Yes?” Maggie stared at him with the moist eyes of an expectant child. Nephys didn’t know how to start, so he just threw his arms around her and held her tight and said quietly, “I love you, Mom.”

Maggie was so stunned she didn’t return the hug for a moment, then she threw her arms around Nephys and didn’t let go for the longest time. Eventually, they parted and Nephys looked up at her.

“That’s what
she
wanted to say.”

“Of course,” Maggie smiled at him.

The smaller children gathered around them and jumped up and down to get Maggie’s attention. They all wanted hugs now too. Maggie pulled away from Nephys to hand out a few more hugs and to tussle a few heads of hair. It was touching. She eventually calmed enough nerves that they dispersed, satisfied, and went back to their tombs. As the last Chinese girl left only after a second hug, she looked up at Nephys to gauge his reaction.

“Now don’t get upset…I didn’t ask to be the den mother of the neighborhood. This just sort of happened.”

Nephys looked at her departing miniature entourage and shrugged, “It’s ok, I guess.”

“You guess?” she said laughing, “What? No lecture? No scolding? No treatise on afterlife metaphysics?”

“Well…not today,” he said.

She stepped back and looked at him admiringly.

“You look different.”

“Really?” Nephys asked nervously, “How?”

“Your wound, it doesn’t look nearly so deep anymore.”

Nephys blanched for a second then felt his own neck. Was it smaller? He couldn’t tell.

Maggie just smiled at him and then turned.

“C’mon, Nep,” she called over her shoulder, “Soup’s almost ready.”

Nephys thought about the bitter soup and caught up to her. She put her arm around his shoulder in a motherly way and gave him a squeeze.