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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 mille
“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 pla
“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 ma
“If Osiris still lives,” says Anubis, “and if we can reach him, then we three together may be able to destroy Thoth.”
“I am sure that Osiris still lives-though for how much longer this will be so, I ca
“We’ve a chance, a very good chance, of recovering all-now that you hold the gauntlet. I’ve got a way to get to the House of Life, and perhaps a way to rescue Osiris, also.”
“Then what? We do not even know where the battle with the Nameless is occurring.”
“One thing by itself, another when it arises. Are you with me?”
“I'll go along with you to the House of Life, as Thoth desires that Osiris live and I may help to effect this much of his will. In the meantime, I shall be thinking.”
“That is good enough.”
“See how the gauntlet grows! Further than before! It is down to my thighs this time!”
“Excellent! The more of you becomes invincible, the better for us all.”
“A moment. Do you seriously think the three of us can defeat Thoth, Set and the Steel General?”
“Yes,”
“How?”
“The Hammer may strike again,” says Anubis.
“It still exists?”
“Yes, and Osiris is its master.”
“Well, granting all these things and assuming that even Vramin, who is now master in your House, may be dealt with-what of the other? What of the great shadow in the shape of horse which will pursue us till the end of our days he who does not live in space as we know it, who ca
Anubis looks away.
“Typhon do I fear,” he admits. “Ages ago I constructed a weapon-no, not a weapon-a thing-which I thought might serve to restrain him. When I tried to use it recently, he fell upon it and destroyed it. He also took my arm… I admit that I have nothing but my wit to use against him. But one does not throw away an empire for fear of one individual. If only I knew the secret of his power…”
“I heard him mention Skagganauk Abyss.”
“There is no such place.”
“I’ve never heard the name before. You have?”
“Legend, fancy, fiction.”
“And what do these things tell of it?”
“We waste time discussing nonsense.”
“If you wish my assistance, you will answer me. See, the gauntlet now reaches to my knees.”
“Skagganauk Abyss, sometimes called the chasm in the sky,” says Anubis, “is the place where it is said that all things stop and nothing exits.”
“There are many very empty spaces in the universe.”
“But the Abyss is said to be empty of space, also. It is a bottomless hole that is not a hole. It is a gap in the fabric of space itself. It is nothing. It is the theoretical hub of the universe. It is the big exit leading nowhere, under, over, beyond, out of it all. That’s Skagganauk Abyss.”
“Typhon does seem to possess these qualities himself, does he not?”
“Yes, he does; I’ll admit that. But it answers nothing. Curse the mating of Set and Isis! They have begotten a brute and a monster!”
“You can hardly talk, Anubis. Was Typhon always as he is now? How could the Witch be delivered of such a one?”
“I do not know. He is older than I. That whole family is shrouded in mystery and paradox. -Let us be off to the House of Life!”
Madrak nods his head.
“Show me the way, Anubis.”
NIGHT BECOMES HORUS
He walks in the places of power and none know his name. But if each among the creatures that pass were to be asked, they would say that they had heard something of him. For he is a god. His power is almost beyond measure. He has been defeated, however. The Prince Who Was A Thousand, his brother, worked his undoing to preserve his own life and the order of life which he represents.
Now, Horus turns up an avenue, well lighted, where the various species cavort. Power and the night are around him.
He has come to this particular street on this particular world for a reason: He is invariably undecided. He needs opinions. He loves oracles. He seeks advice.
Darkness in the sky, bright lights along the thoroughfare. He passes places and people of entertainment.
A man moves to bar his way. He seeks to pass around him, stepping into the street. The man follows and seizes his arm.
Horus blows his breath upon him and it comes down with the force of a hurricane. The man is swept away and Horus moves on.
After a time, he comes to a place of oracles. The Tarot readers and the astrologers and the numerologists and the casters of the Yi Ching beckon to the god in the red loincloth. But he passes them by.
Finally, he comes to a place where there are no people. It is the place of the machines which predict.