“That is true-and he forgave me.”
Then Vramin seats himself upon the throne of Anubis, and Madrak pays him homage, saying:
“Hail, Vramin! Master of the House of the Dead!”
“You need bend no knee to me, old friend. Please rise. I will need your assistance, for this place is quite different from the Seventh Station, where once I reigned.”
And for hours Vramin studies the secret controls about the throne. Then, “Anubis!” cries a voice which he knows is not the voice of Madrak.
And somehow he mimics the bark, the whine:
“Yes?”
“You were right. Horus was defeated, and he returned here. But he is gone again.”
It is the voice of Osiris.
He gestures with his cane, and the big window appears in the middle of the air.
“Hello, Osiris,” he says.
“So the Prince has finally moved,” says Osiris. “I suppose I am next.”
“I hope not,” says Vramin. “I can personally attest to having heard the Prince assure Horus that he would not take vengeance upon you-in exchange for cooperation.”
“Then what has become of Anubis?”
“I do not know for certain. Typhon came here to kill him. I came here to clean up after Typhon and to hold the Station. Either he has slain him and departed, or Anubis fled and Typhon followed. So listen to me, Osiris: Despite the Prince’s assurance, you are in danger. Typhon is not aware of the Prince’s promise, and he was not party to it. Having learned the true story from Set himself and having heard it confirmed by the Prince, he is likely to seek vengeance on the wielder of the Hammer-“
“Set lives?”
“Yes. He was known for a time as Wakim.”
“Anubis’ emissary!”
“None other. The dog had stripped him of his memories and sent him to slay his own son-and father. That is what moved Typhon to anger.”
“A pox on the whole bloody family! And what has become of my son? He but left me this note, and-Of course!”
“ ‘Of course,’ what?”
“It is not too late. I-“
“Behind you, on the wall!” cries Vramin. “Typhon!”
Osiris moves with a speed which belies his fragile appearance. He dives toward a green tapestry, casts it aside and moves beyond.
The shadow flows after him and rears.
When it moves away, there is a Typhon-shaped hole in the tapestry and the wall itself.
“Typhon,” says Vramin.
“I am here,” comes the voice. “Why did you give warning?”
“Because Thoth gave him his life.”
“I was not aware of this.”
“You did not remain long enough to hear it repeated. Now it is too late.”
“No. I fear he has escaped me.”
“How so?”
“He was not within the chamber when I destroyed it.”
“This may be a good thing. Listen. We can use Osiris.”
“No! There can never be peace between our families so long as he lives, regardless of any chivalrous sentiments my brother may mouth. I love my brother, but I will not abide by his forgiving this one. No. I will search this House until I find Osiris and he passes down Skagganauk Abyss!”
“As did Anubis?”
“No! Anubis has escaped me!” comes the cry. “For a time.”
Then Typhon rears, the flames come, and he is gone.
Vramin makes a daisy-beheading gesture with his cane, and the window is closed.
“Anubis still lives,” says Madrak, looking back over his shoulder.
“Obviously.”
“What shall we do?”
“We shall continue to study the functions of the House of the Dead.”
“I wish to rest.”
“Then do so. Find yourself a near chamber and retire. You know where the food is.”
“Yes.”
“Till later, then.”
“Till later, Lord”
Madrak goes forth from the great Hall, and he wanders. He comes, after a time, to a chamber where the dead stand like statues. He seats himself among them. He speaks.
“I was his faithful servant. Hear me, lady with the breasts like melons. -I was his faithful servant. The poet went to war with other Angels, knowing it went against his will. But he is forgiven and exalted. And where am I? Servant to a servant.”
It is not fair.
“I’m glad you agree with me. -And you there, fellow with the extra arms. Did you spread religion and morality? Did you single-handedly defeat monsters and wondrous beasts among the unenlightened?”
Of course not.
“So you see…” He slaps his thigh. “So you see, there is no justice, and virtue is constantly betrayed, befouled, imposed upon. Look what has become of the General, who devoted his life to humanity: Life took away his own humanity. Is that justice?”
Hardly.
“All comes to this, my brothers. We all become statues in the House of the Dead, regardless of the lives we led. The universe never thanks. The giver is never repaid. -Oh, You Who May Be, why did You make things to be this way-if You did make things to be this way, that is-why? I have tried to serve You and the Prince Your Agent. What has it gotten me? Coach fare and third-class accommodations. I am glad that Set battles the Nameless without the gauntlet of power-“
“What?”
And looking up, he sees a statue which had not been there before; and unlike the others, it moves.
Its head is the head of a black dog, and its red tongue darts and curls.
“You! How could you have hidden from Vramin, escaped Typhon?”
“This is my House. It will be many ages before all its secrets may be learned by another.”
Madrak stands, and his staff spins in his hands.
“I do not fear you, Anubis. I have fought in every clime and place where man may take the Word. I have sent many to this House, and I come myself as a conqueror, not as a victim.”
“You were conquered long ago, Madrak, and you only just now realized it.”
“Silence, dog! You speak to one who holds your life in his hands.”
“And you speak to one who holds your future in his.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said that Set goes to battle the Nameless once again?”
“That is true. And when the Nameless has been destroyed, the millennium will come.”
“Ha! Save your metaphysics, preacher. Answer me another thing, and I will tell you a very good thing indeed.”
“What thing?”
Anubis steps forward, limp arm fluttering, at his side.
“What of the gauntlet of power?”
“Oh,” says Madrak, removing a gauntlet from beneath his dark garment and drawing it upon his right hand. “When I obtained this item, I thought that worlds might be won for the faith with it.” It reaches to his elbow, his shoulder. “I did not know that Wakim was Set. I was tempted to keep it for myself. So I substituted my own gauntlet-that-grows. It is a common enough item in some places among the Midworlds. This one seems to be of peculiar potency, while the other is but ordinary armor.” The gauntlet now flares to cover his back, his chest.
“I could kiss thy fat cheeks!” says Anubis. “For Set will now have less of a chance against the Nameless. -And all along you planned this betrayal! You are a shrewder man than I’d supposed, Dad!”
“I was used and I was tempted…”
“But no more shalt thou be used. Oh no! Now you wear the glove, and I propose an alliance-“
“Back dog! You’re not better than anyone else! I’ve something you want now and my backside is suddenly kissing-sweet. Oh no! Whatever I do with my newfound power, I do for one person: Me!”
“The alliance I propose will be mutually beneficial.”
“I need but give the alarm and you will be bound so tightly that all your guile will not serve to free you. I need but spin my staff in the proper manner and your brains will decorate the walls. So speak now, with that in mind, fork-tongue, and I will listen.”