Authors: Jonah Hewitt
“And where do you come from, Nephys?” The Necromancer had no trouble in pronouncing his name.
“From Limbo…Necromancer…sir.” He had no idea if he was being sufficiently deferential or not. All the others seemed quite informal with the Necromancer, rude even, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
“Limbo?” The Necromancer seemed doubtful.
“No es possible!” he muttered to himself, “And this diablillo?” the Necromancer continued, gesturing to where Hiero was digging into the underside of the wooden steps with his butcher knife.
“Oh. That’s Hiero. He’s a set of bagpipes, he’s um…he’s my
imp
…um…Necromancer.” Nephys bowed again just to be careful.
“Imposible!” the Necromancer said to himself again, biting his thumb this time. “No imp has ever set foot on the world above! No es posible!” He walked a short distance away and looked closely at the imp who was hiding under the porch steps and only emerged to give an obscene raspberry.
Tim tapped Sky on the shoulder and whispered to him in a mock Spanish accent, “You keep using that word…I do not think it means…oof.” Sky thumped him hard in the stomach before he could finish.
The Necromancer kept biting his thumb and paced in a tight circle before his piercing gaze met Nephys’ eyes once more. He walked back over towards him and lowered himself to examine the boy. He reached forward a hand towards the boy’s neck as he narrowed his eyes. His hand stopped just a few inches away from Nephy’s neck wound, and his eyes dilated slightly. Then he slowly withdrew the hand as a look of wonder and mild astonishment came across his face.
“
Incredíble!” He quickly reached down for Nephys’ hands and examined them back and front, then he felt his arms and placed a hand on his chest and back, as if feeling for a pulse, examining him the way a doctor might. It was rather rough and made Nephys feel very uncomfortable. As he did so he muttered things to himself, not in Spanish, but rather in Egyptian, Greek, Latin and even Summerian, “
Yib, anima, numen, shi, genius, psyche, ka, pneumata, sheunt, ren, corpus
…” He was running down a checklist of all the many parts of the human soul. Finally, he dropped his hands and looked up at Nephys intently.
“Es cierto!” he whispered, “You really
are
from the underworld, aren’t you?”
Nephys nodded.
“Pero como?” he asked pensively.
“T-through the Gates of Erebus…Necromancer,” Nephys replied respectfully. He had transcribed a first edition of Cervantes’ Don Quixote so he understood what the Necromancer meant.
Moríro looked at Nephys curiously and held the lower half of his face in one hand as a man utterly perplexed. “Not since the days of Dante has such a tale been told, but how did you manage it?” He was speaking more to himself than to Nephys, and Nephys wasn’t certain if he should respond. Thankfully, he didn’t wait for an answer but stood up immediately and adopted the more formal and cold tone of an interrogator.
“Why are you here?”
Embarrassed, Nephys suddenly realized the purpose for which he was sent in the first place. He had been through so much in the last few hours, he had nearly forgotten. He reached into his robes and felt around carefully for the small pebble. Good, it was still there. He wouldn’t have known what to do if he had lost it in the battle. He held it tightly in his fist and then stretched forth his hand.
“I was told to give you this,” Nephys said. The Necromancer looked at the clenched fist and then cupped his own hand underneath it. “I was told you were in danger,” Nephys went on. “I was told that the balance between our worlds was nearly broken and that you needed it to restore the balance. I…I was told it would help you.” Nephys willed himself to let it go, but realized a moment later that his hand was still clutched tightly around it and everyone was looking at him. Nephys thought about the light and warmth of the stone. He wished he didn’t have to give it up so soon, but he took a breath and opened his fist. The bright green light burst forth and the stone tumbled slowly a few short inches through the air until it came to a rest in the worn and lined palm of the Necromancer’s outstretched hand.
“Lapis Caeli!” the Necromancer said in a barely audible whisper. He seemed overcome by awe and shock. He had recognized it immediately.
Every one of the bystanders saw it. All took a few steps forward to take a closer look. Moríro instantly sensed their approach and closed his hand tightly around it and shut out the light to avoid any further scrutiny. The Necromancer’s eyes darted around madly, lost in thought and anxiety. Then his fiery gaze locked on Nephys.
“
WHO
gave this to you?!” he demanded of Nephys.
“What?” Nephys was too frightened by the Necromancer’s intensity to think, let alone answer the question.
“WHO?!!” he yelled grabbing Nephys’ robe with his free hand and dragging him closer while he shook the closed fist with the stone in it near Nephys’ face, “The stone should never have left the safety of the underworld! WHO GAVE IT TO YOU?!”
Nephys blanched and couldn’t speak.
“ANSWER ME!”
“T-the Chamberlain!” Nephys finally sputtered, pulling away from Moríro’s grip. The Necromancer went white and he let go of Nephys’ robes. Nephys fell back to the ground and trembled in fear.
“
Who
?” the Necromancer asked faintly, but his eyes were unfocused and dazed.
“T-the Chamberlain, the Chamberlain of Death himself and high priest to all his mysteries!
He
gave me the stone. He told me I had to give it to you and that you would know what to do with it. It’s the truth, Necromancer, I swear!”
“The Chamberlain?!” The Necromancer swayed on his feet as if he were about to fall down, but his eyes suddenly cleared, his stance became solid as granite, his glance fiery and resolute. He quickly withdrew the hand with the stone and squirreled it into an interior pocket of his coat. He grabbed Nephys by the arm and set him on his feet.
“You!” he bellowed, pointing to Tim who jumped when he spoke, “Will that vehicle of yours still run?”
“Um…I think so,” Tim replied uncertainly.
Moríro was already turning back to the house before Tim had finished answering. “Everyone
MUST
be ready to go in fifteen minutes!” Moríro stormed up the porch steps, sending Hiero into a hooting frenzy and slammed the red door to the house behind him so hard the bell hummed from the vibration.
They all stared at each other in confusion for a moment before settling in to wait. Nephys turned to look at Lucy. She did look a lot like her mother, only with lighter hair, skin and eyes. She looked as dejected and alone as Maggie had when he had first come across her in the swamp. Nephys reached into his robes and closed his hand over the tiny scroll. He had one last errand to perform, but he didn’t have the slightest idea how to approach her in her current state.
Just then, as if by fate, Lucy struggled back to her feet and walked over to where the boys were standing. She pulled her hair behind her ears and fidgeted as if she was trying to think of something to say but didn’t know what. Finally, she just turned and said, “Thank you,” to Sky and Miles. “Thank you for…
saving
me back there.” And then added as if it wasn’t obvious, “Y’know…from the zombies.”
Miles looked down and shrugged and looked at Sky. Sky smiled a smug little smile and looked like he was going to say something cute when Lucy cut him off.
“Don’t think for a moment that this means I’ve forgotten about earlier!” she said angrily. Schuyler just closed his mouth around the lollipop and smiled some more. She took a few steps past them and looked like she was going to walk away when she stepped back to take a second look at Tim. She looked him up and down and finally said quietly to him, “Why are you wearing Sky’s shirt?”
Tim hemmed and hawed for a minute before fessing up, “Um, it always was my shirt. Sky was just borrowing it, y’know, because he didn’t think he could approach you in the gift shop without, y’know, a shirt on.” Tim put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth anxiously, slightly embarrassed.
Lucy looked at Tim wide-eyed, then back to Sky and his naked chest. Schuyler waggled his eyebrows at her. She didn’t say anything but just sighed. She gave Nephys a look before she spoke again.
“And what’s your story?” she said a little bit surly, “I suppose you’re some awful dead thing too. What are you, a zombie, a ghoul, another one of
them
?” She shot a vicious look at Tim, Miles and Sky.
“Hey, do I have to keep reminding you people that I’m still alive?” Tim said, a bit hurt.
“Shut up, bloodbag,” Sky said dismissively. Tim opened his mouth to protest but said nothing. Lucy looked back to Nephys and widened her eyes as if to say “Well?” and he realized he hadn’t answered her question yet.
“Um…no…I’m a child of Limbo,” he said a bit defensively. She just raised her eyebrows at him. That obviously meant nothing to her.
“Um...we’re the lost children of the underworld. We…we help around the afterlife and live in perpetual service to the Great Master, help him catalogue the dead, record things, stuff like that. I’m a scribe, personally.”
“Great Master?” she said curious but cautious, “You mean
Death?
”
“Um…yeah,” Nephys said cringing.
She took in a big sigh, “Great. Why not?” she shrugged. “That’s. Just. Perfect.” She looked completely numb and stared into space. She turned away and walked off to the end of the garden and stood near the stone lantern, holding herself with her back to everyone.
“I think that’s your cue, baldy,” Sky said a half a minute later, “If you are ever gonna deliver that note you’re not going to find a better time.” Nephys looked at Lucy’s back and then at Sky’s face and the faces of the others.
“Go on now.” Miles tossed his head in Lucy’s direction. Nephys looked back to Lucy, tightened his hand around the scroll and walked after her. He stopped a few feet behind her. She had her eyes closed with her chin up and was breathing very slowly as if she was listening intently to something. Nephys was about to say something when she spoke.
“You have a heartbeat,” she said a little perplexed, “I didn’t think dead things could have heartbeats.” She looked down and opened her eyes. “Or maybe that’s only vampires. I’m… so new at all this.” She closed her eyes and looked up again. “I can hear them y’know. Heartbeats. Tim’s, Moríro’s and yours. Yours is different though. Not a steady beat at all, more of a hum.” She looked at him curiously but then looked back to the empty woods where the boy and the specter of the witch had last disappeared. “Miles and Sky don’t have heartbeats. Just shadows spinning like gurgling drains to nowhere.” She shuddered a little. Then she took another step forward as if she wanted to be further away from the sound of gurgling shadows. After another profound, awkward silence, Nephys wiped his palms on his robes and got the courage to speak. He needed to tell Lucy about her mother, but he couldn’t just blurt it out. He decided to keep it simple.
“My name’s Nephys,” he said. She didn’t look at him. Nephys sighed. “You can call me Neppy, though. Everyone does…even your…” He stopped. “Well everyone calls me Neppy.”
She didn’t look at him but just stared off into space. Then after a while she wiped her eyes a bit. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. My mom said everyone’s got problems and so there’s no reason to expect someone else to put up with yours.” She turned to look at him. “Hello, Neppy, I’m Lucy Miller,” she said formally.
She held out her hand stiffly. At first he thought she wanted him to put something in it, but the way she was holding it, stiff and vertically, that didn’t make sense. Then he remembered something.
“Oh…I’m supposed to shake it, right?”
Lucy laughed, “Well…
yes
.”
He reached up and grabbed her right hand with his own right hand. It was awkward, but Lucy helped him through it raising and lowering her hand in a slow rhythmic fashion until he got the hang of it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not really used to your customs. I haven’t been on earth since I died more than…well I haven’t been to earth in a really long time.”
She just smiled. He liked holding her hand. It was warm and gentle. It was like holding the stone. Her eyes were as vibrant green as the stone and he could see her mother in her.
Finally, she looked at him a little funny and then said, “You’re supposed to let go of it after a while.”
“Oh.” He dropped her hand nervously, even though he didn’t want to.
She pulled her hair behind her ears and said, “Thanks, y’know for pulling, that
thing
off of me earlier.” She shot a venomous look towards Hiero, who was venturing a little from the safety of the stairs. The second the imp caught her eye, though, it darted back for cover with a whining, “flubbit.”
Nephys smiled. “My fault really,” Nephys said a little dejectedly, “If it wasn’t for me it wouldn’t have even been here.” Nephys looked up at her expectantly. “Sorry.”
She huffed a little and looked a little angry. She went to put her hands in her back pockets, just like her mother did when she wanted to assume a commanding position, but neither the robe nor the pajama bottoms had any back pockets so she had to settle with folding her arms across her chest instead.
“Well,” she said after a moment, “I forgive you and
thanks
…anyway.”