Servant of the Bones

11

What Zurvan taught me in the next fifteen years was all an extension and elaboration of what was learned in the first three of our days. That I can remember them now clearly for the first time in all these centuries floods me with happiness. I want to tell you the details. Ah, God, that I remember being alive and then not alive that I can connect one memory to the other, this is…this is something more merciful than an answer to prayers.”

I told him I thought I could understand, but I said nothing more because I was eager for him to go on.

“After Zurvan released me to go wandering in the flesh, I didn’t return until called, which was midnight or after. I had by then a huge bouquet of extremely delicate flowers, no one the same, and these I put in a vase of water for him and set on his study table.

“He made me recount everything I had seen and done. I described every street in Miletus in which I’d wandered, how I’d been tempted to try to pass through solid objects but stayed with his prohibition, and how I had watched the ships in the harbor for the longest time, and listened to the languages being spoken along the shore. I told him I felt thirst at times, and drank from a fountain not sure of what would happen, and that the water filled my body, not through internal organs which I did not possess, but every fiber of it over all.

“He listened to all this and he said: ‘What is your estimation of all you saw, or each thing, however you wish to tell me?’

“ ‘Splendid,’ I said with a shrug. ‘Temples of incredible beauty. Marble, such marble. The people here are from all nations. I never saw so many Greeks before; I stood listening to a group of Athenians arguing about philosophy, which was very funny to me but I enjoyed watching it, and of course I wandered near the Persian court and was allowed entrance both to the temple and the palace, apparently because of my clothing and demeanor and I wandered in these newly constructed citadels of my old world, and then back out to the temples of the Greek gods, and rather liked their openness and the whiteness, and the whole stamina of the Greek people, which I think is more different from the Babylonians than I ever supposed.’

“ ‘But,’ he asked, ‘is there anything you are burning to tell me, anything that made you angry or sorrowful?’

“ ‘I don’t want to disappoint you but I can’t think of a thing. Everywhere I beheld splendor. Ah, the colors of the flowers, look at them. Every now and then I’d see the spirits, but all I had to do was close my eyes to them, so to speak, and again there was the bright, living world. I coveted things. I coveted jewelry, and I knew I could steal it in this form. In fact, I did discover one little trick. I could make the jewelry come to me, if I stood close enough and beckoned to it with my whole will. But I gave back what I stole. And I found money in my pockets. I found gold. I don’t know how it got there.’

“ ‘I put it there,’ he said. ‘Anything else? Did you notice or feel anything else?’

“ ‘The Greeks, you know,’ I said. ‘They are as practical as our people were…whoever the hell my people were…but they believe in ethics in a way that is not connected to divine worship; it is not merely a question of do not oppress the poor, uphold the weak, and all for the glory of the gods, but some further confirmation of much that is…is…’

“ ‘Abstract,’ he said. ‘Invisible and detached from the self-serving.’

“ ‘Yes, precisely. They speak of laws that pertain to behavior in a manner that is not religious, that’s it. They don’t possess more conscience, however. They can be cruel. Can’t all people?’

“ ‘That’s enough for now. You’ve told me what I want to know.’

“ ‘Which is what?’ I asked.

“ ‘You don’t envy living people.’

“ ‘Good heavens, why should I? I’ve wandered all day and I feel no fatigue, nothing, only a little thirst. No one can harm me. Why would I envy people who are still alive? I feel sorry for them if all that lies ahead is to be a stumbling spirit or a demon. I wish all of them could be born again as I have, but then I know that all I see is, how did you put it, only what is of the earth. Besides…’

“ ‘Yes…’

“ ‘I don’t remember ever being alive. I know you said that I was, or I myself said it, or it seems to be something we both know, and we spoke of that cursed tablet and bungling, but I don’t remember being alive. I don’t remember aching or being burnt or falling or bleeding. By the way, you are right. I have no need of internal organs. And when I cut myself I can bleed or not bleed as I choose.’

“ ‘You realize, of course,’ he said, ‘that many of the dead you see hate the living! They hate them.’

“ ‘Why?’

“ ‘Because their own existence is shadowy and weak and full of longing for things which they can’t have. They cannot be visible, they cannot move objects, they can but buzz like invisible bees through the world.’

“ ‘What would happen if I became invisible,’ I asked, ‘and I went up with the more joyous creatures, the ones who are so busy and seem to range so high?’

“ ‘Do it and come back safe to me, unless you find Paradise,’ he said.

“ ‘You think I might?’

“ ‘No, but I would never deny you Paradise or Heaven; would you deny such a thing to anyone?’

I immediately obeyed, throwing off for the first time the weight of the body and the clothes yet commanding them to be at hand.

“I went out into the courtyard, looked for the spirits and found them surrounding me, thickly, and now that my eyes were focused on them, the demonic among them became ferocious, and I had many a struggle on my hands. Over and over the meandering dead detained me with pathetic questions, questions pertaining to those they’d left behind in the living world.

“And I found these meandering dead were in the higher levels as well as the very low, only they had grown lighter and stronger apparently, or at least they were better off than the shuffling blinded anguished dead that roamed the very earth itself.

“I came into the upper air of the joyous creatures and at once they turned to me, their faces filled with amazement, and with gentle gestures they ordered me down. In an instant I was surrounded by them, many of them having vague yet sparkling shapes, some even wings, and some long, white robes, but to a one, they ordered me down, they pointed, and they gestured, and they urged me as if I were a child blundering into a sanctuary. There was no wrath or contempt in them, they simply pointed downward and told me I must go.

“ ‘No, I won’t go,’ I said, but when I tried to go higher, I saw the way was wholly covered over with them and their bodies, and it seemed for one instant I perceived, far beyond the layers of them, a light shining but it hurt my eyes, and I fell, plummeted, crashed right back down to the earth.

“I lay in some dark place and the demons closed in on me, tearing at my invisible hair and body so that I dissolved and defeated them simply by slipping away and up, and then I made a right arm and a left arm and swept them aside, cursing them in their own tongues until they had fled.

“I tried to get my bearings; was I below the surface of the real earth? I didn’t know. I had fallen into an ashy gloom, a fog, through which I could see nothing material. The spirits that fled from me or hovered near me were part of the pollution and density of this place.

“Then striding out of the fog there came a mighty spirit, shaped like a man as I was, smiling at me in cunning fashion, and immediately I sensed danger. He flew at me with both hands, fastening onto my neck, and then the demons closed in again. I fought him furiously, cursing him, and declaring him powerless, rattling off incantations galore to send him hence, and finally throttling him and shaking him until he was screaming for mercy; he lost his human shape; then he flew away, turned into a wisp of a veil as it were, and the demons fled.

“ ‘I have to get back to my Master,’ I said. I closed my eyes. I called to my Master, and to my body that waited, and my clothes that waited, and then I woke up, sitting in the Greek chair in my Master’s study, and he was at his desk, one knee raised with his foot on a footstool, tapping his fingers, and watching all.

“ ‘Did you see where I went and what I did?’ I asked.

“ ‘Some of it. I saw you rise, but then you could go no higher, the spirits of the upper air wouldn’t permit it.’

“ ‘No, they wouldn’t, but they were kind. Did you see the light, way beyond them?’

“ ‘No, I didn’t,’ he said.

“ ‘That must be the light of Heaven,’ I said, ‘and down must come a ladder, a stairway, yes, to the earth, but why not for all the dead, why not for all the muddled and angry?’

“ ‘No one knows. You don’t require an answer from me. You can reason it out for yourself. But what makes you so sure there will be a ladder, a stairway for anyone? Is it the promise of the ziggurats, the pyramids? The legend of Mount Meru?’

“I thought a long time before answering. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Though those are proofs of course, no, not proofs but indications. I know because of the faces of the higher spirits…as they directed me to go down. There was no meanness in them; no evil; no wrath. They didn’t shout like gatekeepers of a palace; they simply made it impossible for me to pass, and over and over they offered by gesture the way I was to go…back to the earth.’

“He pondered that one in silence. I was too excited to be silent.

“ ‘Did you see that strong one who attacked me,’ I said, ‘the one who walked up to me as though he were my height and weight and was smiling, and then flew at me?’

“ ‘No. What happened?’

“ ‘I choked him and shook him and vanquished him and threw him away.’

“My Master laughed. ‘Poor foolish spirit.’

“ ‘You’re speaking to me?’

“ ‘I’m speaking sarcastically of him,’ he said.

“ ‘But why didn’t he talk to me? Why didn’t he ask me who I was? Why didn’t he greet me as a creature of equal power, you know, engage in some way other than battle?’

“ ‘Azriel, most spirits don’t know what they’re doing or why,’ he said. ‘The longer they drift the less they know. Hate is common to them. He tested his strength against you. Perhaps if he had vanquished you, he would have tried to enslave you among the invisible, but he couldn’t do that. He knows nothing else, most likely, but combat, dominance, and submission. Many human beings live in exactly the same way.’

“ ‘Oh, yes, I know,’ I said.

“ ‘Go there, to the pitcher of water,’ he said. ‘Drink all of it. You can drink whenever you wish. Water will make your spirit body in any form stronger. That’s true of all spirits and ghosts. They love water and crave the damp. Oh, but I told you this. Hurry up. I have something for you to do.’

“The water did taste wonderful and I drank an amount which a normal man could never have drunk. When I set down the pitcher, I was ready for his command.

“ ‘I want you to retain your body and walk through the wall into the garden and then back again. You’ll feel resistance. Ignore it. You are made of different particles from the wall, and you can pass among the particles of the wall without hurting it. Do it, do it over and over until you can walk through anything solid without hesitation.’

“I found this very easy. I walked through doors, I walked through walls three feet thick, I walked through columns. I walked through furniture. Each time I did feel the swirling particles which made up the barrier or the object, but the penetration was not hurtful and it took only will to override any natural instinct to bow or retreat.

“ ‘Are you tired?’

“ ‘No,’ I said.

“ ‘All right, this is your first real errand for me,’ he said. ‘Go to the house of the Greek merchant Lysander in the street of the scribes, steal every manuscript out of his library, and bring them to me. You will take four trips to do it. Do it in the flesh and ignore anyone who sees you, remember that to make the scrolls pass through the wall, you have to put them inside your body, which includes now your robe. You have to envelop them in your spirit. If it is too hard, then go and come by doors. Anyone who strikes you…can’t hurt you.’

“ ‘Do I hurt them?’

“ ‘No. Not unless they have some power to detain you. In general, their daggers and swords will pass right into you and do nothing. But if they take hold of the scrolls, which are material, you may have to knock them away. Do it…gently, I suppose. Or…as it suits you, depending on how much the person offends you. I leave it to you.’

“He lifted his pen and began to write. Then he realized I hadn’t moved.

“ ‘So?’ he asked.

“ ‘I’m to steal?’

“ ‘Azriel, my conscientious one, my newborn spirit, everything in the house of Lysander is stolen! He obtained it all when the Persians came through Miletus. Most of the library was mine. He is a bad man. You may kill him if you like. Doesn’t matter to me. But get going and bring back all those books. Do as I say, and never question me on such matters.’

“ ‘Then you will never want for me to rob the poor man, or hurt the afflicted, or frighten the humble and the meek.’

“He looked up. ‘Azriel, we have been over this ground. Your words sound like a variation on one of those pompous inscriptions at the feet of Assyrian Kings.’

“ ‘I didn’t want to waste your time with lengthier questions,’ I said.

“ ‘I have no interest in anything but good behavior,’ he said. Try to remember my lessons. I love even the pesty familiars I keep here to do my bidding, but Lysander is evil and steals and sells for profit, and cannot even read.’

“The chore proved easy enough. I had only to knock about the servants to send them flying and in three journeys back and forth I was able to transport the entire library to my Master. It was hard, however, with great bundles of scrolls to pass through doors. I couldn’t envelop them with my spirit and pass through the particles. But I got better at this as time passed on. Indeed, I learned something he hadn’t told me, that I might make my body diffuse and large as I passed through the solid walls and doors, that way better enveloping the scrolls and then contracting again to the normal size of a fleshly man as I walked on with my bundle of goods.

“To be open and fair with him, I did this on my last trip, coming through the wall of his study, with a very large cache of loot, making myself very big and then contracting to lay down the bundle itself.

“He gave me a steady look, and I realized something. All day and night since I had come, I had been amazing him. And he masked it with this look. He showed no fear.

“ ‘I don’t feel any fear of you,’ he said, answering my thoughts, ‘but you’re right; it’s not my habit as a magus or a scholar or a man to look startled and to shout.’

“ ‘What now, Master?’ I asked.

“ ‘Go into the bones, and do not come out until you hear me…hear my voice, calling you. That I dream of you or think of you is not enough.’

“ ‘I’ll try, Master,’ I said.

“ ‘You’ll disappoint me if you disobey; you’re too young and strong to run rampant. You’ll hurt my soul if you try to come out when I think of you.’

“Again I felt the ready tears. ‘Then I won’t do it, Lord,’ I said.

“I went into the bones. For one moment before my eyes closed I saw the casket itself and that it had been moved to a hiding place, a niche within the wall, but then came the velvet sleep, and the thought, ‘I love him, and I want to serve him.’ And that was all.

“The next morning I waked but didn’t move. It was a long time, lying in the darkness, feeling nothing of the physical at all, waiting, and then when I heard his voice very distinctly, I answered the call.

“The bright world opened up all around me again. I was seated in the garden, among the flowers, and he was on a couch there, reading, mussed and yawning as if he’d spent the night under the stars.

“ ‘Well, I waited this time,’ I said.

“ ‘Ah, then you felt yourself wake before I called you?’

“ ‘Yes, but waited, so that you’d be pleased. Some bit of memory came back to me, or has come at this moment, enough to ask a question.’

“ ‘Ask. If I can’t truly answer I won’t make anything up.’

“I laughed and laughed at that! I had some firm conviction in my utter forgetfulness that priests and Magi lied ferociously. He nodded in satisfaction at this.

“ ‘Your question?’

“ ‘Do I have a destiny?’ I asked.

“ ‘What a strange question. What makes you think anyone has a destiny? We do what we do and we die. I told you. There is but one Creator God and his name does not matter. Our destiny, for all of us, is to love and to gain greater appreciation and understanding of all around us. Why should yours be any different?’

“ ‘Ah, but that’s just it. I should have a special destiny, should I not?’

“ ‘The belief in a special destiny is one of the most rampant and harmful delusions on earth. Innocent babes are lifted from the teats of queens and told that they have a special destiny—to rule Athens, or Sparta, or Miletus, or Egypt, or Babylon. What stupidity. But I know what lies behind your question. And you’d better listen now. Go get the Canaanite tablet and don’t break it. If you break it, I’ll have to put it back together and I’ll make you cry.’

“ ‘Hmmm. It’s easy for you to make me cry, isn’t it?’

“ ‘Apparently,’ he said. ‘Get the tablet. Hurry. We have a journey ahead of us today. If you can take me to the steppes of the north, to the mountains where the great mountain of the gods is supposed to stand high above all else, then you can take me other places too. I want to go home to Athens. I want to walk in Athens. Go on, powerful spirit. Get the tablet. Hurry. Ignorance is of no use to anyone. Don’t be afraid.’ ”