Finale

I sincerely hope this story is going over well...

******

Time came calling shortly thereafter. And he was indeed, timeless. He had a youthful face, though his beard was gray; arthritic hands that retained speed and dexterity. He wore a gray robe, smoked a hooka and had a tendency to glide instead of walk. He also didn't say much.

He arrived for brunch, and Algernon brought out a tray containing tea, yogurt, lemon-poppyseed muffins and chocolate eclairs. Time tucked in with muttered thanks.

Meanwhile, Christina helped Death set up a chessboard in the parlor. It was typically grand, with intricately carved marble chessmen, and ebony inlays on the board. Though the day was perfectly warm, the fireplace ran full tilt. She quickly realised it was just for ambiance and gave no heat.

Algernon (who was doubling as manservant that day) guided Time into the room shortly thereafter and everyone sat down with a stiff, formal air.

It was Death who broke the silence. "Now Time, I only requested your company on a business matter. You see the lady over there?"

Time didn't even glance at Christina but nodded anyway.

"Well, I've God's permission to train her in as my assistant. A Lady Death, so to speak. She's got the cane, the robe, the immortality. But without your blessing she'll age forever, an unpleasant prospect. What do you say to removing her from your grand design?"

Time looked at Christina for a long moment, then said to his friend "win the game," with a gesture at the fresh chess match. Algernon moaned at this foregone conclusion and he and Christina were cursorily dismissed.

******

She saw nothing of her mentor and Time for nearly a full week. They stayed in the parlor, playing chess over her fate. Algernon delivered Time his meals at the door, spending the rest of his days in a huff over the dirth of compliments he recieved.

Christina therefore spent most of her time outside with her daughter, watching the trains. They never moved. The almost full one needed twenty-five more members to fill the quota. The porters were quite bitter over Death's long vacation from the job, though they were all very polite.

But at last the dull week was through. Late one evening, during supper, the two chess players emerged into the hall, and Death announced "I've won."

Then Time approached Christina, who stood nervously. "Hold still," he said, and reached out to her neck. He carefully pulled a thing chain she'd never seen before up and over her head. And suddenly a weight she'd always carried as if it was natural was gone.

In his hands, Time held a chain of metal links. The colour of the metal slowly shifted from silver to copper to gold and then back. It had been around her neck always, and she'd never known. Now it was gone, and Christina knew why Time glid everywhere. She felt she could all but fly.

Death watched in curiosity, and then said, "if you don't need that chain, may I keep it for my collection?"

"Be my guest," Time replied, and Death disappeared into his paneled room to find a place for it. Algernon escorted Time to the door and life resumed its normal course. For a few days.

******

Then Christina started accompanying Death on his errands. And it was a strange experiance, to descend the stairs after weeks only to find the world still caught in the glow of the Icon Effect.

The first day she simply observed. The Flanders sisters, who'd gone skiing against all reason that day. Jak Gard, the notorious cat-burglar of CableTown, finally brought to ground by the long arm of the law.

The second day, Christina was allowed to carry Death's scroll as they went from place to place. The train was filled, though only Isabella watched it drive away.

Then Death became the observer, leaving Christina to do everything herself. It was a miraculous job, and she adapted swiftly. He lost no time in getting her a list of her own, telling her to deal with as much as possible before calling it a day.

To her annoyance, the double doors would not swing open at her approach the way they did for Death. So she simply left them open, to be closed when they both got off work.

Her job was simple for days, dealing with everyone from a drowned girl in a river to a man killed over a game of snooker. Then she collected an old man named Omar Cline, killed in a back alley of Hyvar for his shoes. He was quite vocal about the cause of his plight, and Christina tuned him out in annoyance.

"...It's all that bloody Frank's fault," he was saying vehemently as they ascended the stairs. "We traveled as friends, watched each other's back. This woulld never have happened if he'd been around today. But oh no! He abandoned me on the streets during Easter. Cast me aside like last week's garbage. Left me to rot and stole a horse. After all we went through, for him to pull a stunt like that... No chance he's dead yet, I suppose? Damn it, I knew I'd be first in the grave..."

He sank into an awed silence as they passed through the Cathedral and down to the station. But just before he boarded, Omar Cline asked "keep an eye out for him, why don't you? Remember me when you meet him. He's a young man, though he looks about fifty. Red hair. Army deserter. Frank Gordon." Then he was gone.

For the next few days Christina was extremely distracted. She'd gaze into the distance, wasting hours on silent consideration. She all but ignored Isabella and Algernon, and scarcely said two words to Death.

One day, he finally got fed up and brought her into the parlour for a chat. "Did I make a mistake? Does it turn out that you haven't the guts for the job after all? What is wrong Christina? I can hardly help you if I don't know the problem."

She stared at her pacing mentor in miserable confusion and explained her meeting with Omar. Death sat down and gazed at the ceiling. Then said "you took it upon yourself to become Lady Death for your daughter's sake, as I recall. Before that, you raised her alone in an underground slum. Where was your husband all that time, hmm?"

Christina squared her shoulders and said quietly "I wasn't alone down there. I had Lee. And Frank wasn't my husband, though we would have got married if the war hadn't interfered... I loved him. A lot. He got conscripted into the army and I only realised I was pregnant after he'd gone. I wrote him a letter begging him to return on leave and marry me, but it came back unopened, stamped with M.I.A.

"When my father found out about my condition, he threw me out. I couldn't get any work. I'd heard there was a P.O.W camp in Hel, and went there to ask after Frank. Lee was a friend of mine, and he followed me. Tracked me down, got a job and a little place for me to stay until Isabella was born.

Then police called for a lockdown, and we got trapped in Hel. Lee lost his job, I couldn't find work. We became beggars with the rest of them and got to living from day to day. In doorways mostly. Lee said he loved me. I believed him, but somehow couldn't forget about Frank. I was so certain he'd been prevented from coming home somehow. He was in a different camp, or hospital or behind enemy lines. Or trying to find me.

"The thought kept me going awhile. But I forgot about him in my concern over Isabella. Forgot Lee too. Hardly mattered, compared to her. And now I hear that Frank was just a deserter. And I want to find him, ask him what happened. I want to live it all again so that I can do it right, but it's too late isn't it?"

Death stared at her. She stared at the floor. This abbreviated life story hinted at so much misery. No wonder she'd agreed so swiftly to the idea of being his apprentice. Now she was having some sort of regretful relapse. And if he could talk her out of it, everything would turn out fine.

******

Outside, Isabella stood still and watched the trains. They filled quickly these days, putting the porters in good spirits. Already one was nearly full and the other hadn't yet returned.

The porters liked Isabella, with her quiet ways and keen observations. And she liked them, cheerful and content. All at once her own life had become comfortable and almost frighteningly beautiful. She enjoyed the fact that it was a small world. She'd already discovered that if you walked beyond the station, into the hills, you'd be on your way back to the Cathedral in short order. It was a lovely feeling of enclosed space, coupled with the vast sky and Death's opulent house.

She's long since come to the conclusion that she never wanted to leave.

Inside, on her way past the parlour door, she ran into Death coming out. Beyond, she could see her mother weeping. It filled her with alarm, but Death prevented her from entering. "Come with me," he said quietly, "Your mother needs some space."

"what's wrong with her?" the little girl asked as she followed him into what he termed the library. It was twice as big as the entrance hall, and a maze of shelves. The roof was glass and lamps were abundant.

Death selected a small book and sat down in a comfortable armchair with red velvet upholstery. "She's been re-evaluating her life," he replied honestly. "She's just realised she wasted her love on the wrong man, and the only person who really cared about her is never coming back. It's upset her. She'll come to terms with it in a few days. Don't worry."

"Now," he said, pulling up a small stool next to him, "come here and pay attention. Today, you're going to learn how to read."

*********THE END*********

Here ends this story. I hope it entertained, and the idea was good. Depending on feedback, I will either continue to post my experiments or not.