CHAPTER ONE

“So I… I… what I was saying, again?” Crawly reached across the table, grasping the second bottle of Egyptian wine. It was quite delicious, actually. He’d heard good things about Egypt when he was living in Mesopotamia, and this certainly didn’t contradict the rumors. It was turning out to be the best of his moves.

Aziraphale swished a fan back and forth, trying to ease the dryness and heat of the day. It wasn’t working too well.

“Something about the scribes, I think?”

“Oh yeah. It’s gotta be a he- one hard job. Memorizing all those little squiggly things.” Crawly wiggled his fingers, as if trying to do an impression of the hieroglyphics. Aziraphale just stared in confusion.

“You know, those hyro…. Hydro…”

“Hieroglyphics.”

“Yeah. Those. One bloody mess, that is.” Crawly took another swig of wine. “No one’s going to know how to read them after it dies out.”

“And what makes you think the Egyptian language will die out?” said Aziraphale, rather affronted. He oversaw all the scribes in the palace, you see. Some even argue that he was a scribe himself, but no one ever managed to catch him writing.

Crawly rolled his eyes. “Because everything dies out,” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s not like… it’s not like… take… oh, I don’t know. You can kill non-living things though. Like a language.”

“Of course you can kill non-living things. They’re not living in the first place,” argued Aziraphale, tipping the bottle of wine into his twice-emptied cup.

“Well. Yeah, but-” His eyes were going slightly cross-eyed when a tall figure approached the table. “Hey, Moses. Take a sit-down, will you?” He rather liked Moses, which was a kind of weird for Crawly.

The man obliged, taking a cup that appeared to have come out of thin air. Luckily, he didn’t notice as he poured himself a moderate portion.

“Still wearing those… shading devices?” Moses waved a vague hand, looking straight at Crawly’s shades. Crawly smiled, which ended up looking surprisingly serpentine.

“You’ll see these around later. Trust me.”

Moses shrugged. “Whatever you say, Crawly. And how are you, Rifel?”

“Just fine, thank you.” Aziraphale adjusted his robe and cast a blinding grin at the prince. He had a rather soft spot for Moses. He was always hinting to Crawly about how Moses would do something important for “his side.” Crawly really hated him at times like this (not that he particularly liked him at other times, of course), so he’d hint back that Moses was an incarnation of the Devil. Aziraphale would just give a smug smile. Angels.

“So, what were we saying?”

“Something about the death of non-living things,” muttered Aziraphale, rolling his clear grey eyes. “It is an utterly ridiculous conversation, Moses. I would advise drinking this elsewhere.” Rather unsteadily, he stood up.

“I don’t mind. I haven’t seen Crawly in a while now. It might be a good time to catch up on some things.” For a moment, Crawly saw something flicker in Moses’ dark brown eyes, but it soon disappeared. He shrugged it off and reached for another glass. It was probably just the alcohol.

“Well, then.” Aziraphale appeared a bit disgruntled. “I’ll get going. Leave you two to your philosophic talks.” With as much dignity as he could manage, the older man left the room, still swaying slightly.

Crawly laughed as the angel parted, sloshing the wine over Moses’ spotless white tunic. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Not a problem.” Moses looked down on his clothes with a slightest bit of interest before turning back to Crawly. “So, you were talking about death?”

“Of non-living things,” corrected Crawly. “A concept that Rifel didn’t understand too well.” And probably one of the few ideas he would even refuse to contemplate…

He allowed himself a snigger before turning to Moses, who was looking at his wine with utmost concentration. It was quite strange, actually. Moses was always the fun guy, the joker. Today, he seemed serious, even… morose.

“You’re friends with him, right?” asked Moses, turning the golden goblet to catch the light.

“Well, not really,” Crawly said, taken aback. “He just happens to be there, you know? I can’t really avoid him. I mean, I’ve known him my whole life. But we’re not friends, per se.”

“But… he’s your friend. He’s righteous, he’s… well, you’re closer to him than… say your family.”

Crawly looked wildly around. If Aziraphale happened to be around, this would be ten times more awkward. “Uh… Well, I guess… I never really had a…”

The goblet went down with a clatter. “Who do you side with? Your spiritual counterpart, the one you know is doing right? Or do you go with your family, the people who have put you down and lied to you?”

What kind of situation had he gotten himself into? Crawly glanced furtively around. Finally, he said weakly, “It’s getting a bit warm in here, isn’t it?”

“I want your answer, Crawly. You’re one of the few people I actually trust here. I know that your opinions are… are true! And right! You’ve… you’ve got to help me.” Moses’ eyebrows rose in a splendid display of distress and sorrow, his eyes looking more solemn then they ever had before.

Aha! Finally, his moment had come! Finally, he could teach that angel a lesson. He was going to prove to Aziraphale once and for all that Moses was not siding with Heaven. Not in the least.

“Go with your friend,” he said confidently. God was all for family, right? “I mean, screw your family. So what if they raised you and taught you everything? Go with the people you’ve just met- well, comparatively to your family anyway.”

Moses bit his lip. “Now that you put it like that, maybe I should-” he started to wheedle, but Crawly cut him short.

“Moses.” He set a hand on the man’s shoulder. Moses flinched. “I promise. This is the right way to go. When have I ever led you astray?”

Suddenly images flashed through his mind of countless pranks and endless punishments, the only common link between them all one little boy and a mischievous looking official with dark sunglasses. Hmm. Maybe that wasn’t such a good question to ask.

“Just do as I say, Moses. It’ll be fine.”

Heaving a sigh, Moses rose. “You’re right, Crawly.” He gave a weak smile. “Well, let’s hope you are at any rate.”

“Oh, you’re doing the right thing. Trust me.” And Crawly let loose a blinding grin. It wouldn’t disappear until after he talked to the angel, who promptly laughed in his face about Crawly’s idea of success.

How did he know that was going to lead to the exodus of the Jews? Well, at least he didn’t get credit for it.

He rather hated Moses.