To Reign in Hell: A Novel (31 page)

“Michael picked up a few hundred who deserted Satan after the last battle, and there were more who simply ran away. All in all, they still have more than we do, but not by much.”

“So Michael is going to attack anyway?”

“Yes. He is deciding now on his exact strategy, but we are going to end this. He will be approaching from three sides with the sea before them, so the rebels will have nowhere to run.”

“But if they outnumber us—”

“We have an advantage,”

“What is that?”

“You, my son. You will lead this attack. You will take with you all the Seraphim and the Cherubim; these will be your personal guard. You will lead our hosts against the enemy, and you will drive him into the sea. This will be your hour. What do you say?”

“Father! I’m ready!”

“Then go at once. You should be with them as soon as possible.”

“I’m on my way, Father.”

“Farewell. And, Yeshuah—”

“Yes, Father?”

“You have my blessing.”

Michael looked up from the maps. “Zaphkiel, how far behind are we?”

“Half a day.”

“Where will Satan be now?”

“If he’s joined up with the army—”

“That’s what I meant.”

“—he has nearly reached the shore.”

“Good. We will take our time traveling the rest of the way so we can arrive rested, and then attack as soon as we arrive.”

Zaphkiel nodded. “I saw something interesting a few hours ago.”

“Oh?”

“Raphael. Walking westward, alone.”

“That
is
interesting. Do you suppose she’s joined with Satan? I can’t believe it.”

Zaphkiel shrugged.

“Well, nothing to be done about it—Yeshuah!”

Zaphkiel turned, and it was, indeed, Yeshuah who stood before them. About his waist was a belt of gold, and in his hands was a sword as long as Michael’s. A circlet, also of gold, was set upon his head.

“I am here,” he said, “by the wishes of the Lord Yaweh. I am to lead the battle against the enemy. These are my father’s wishes. What say you?”

Zaphkiel nodded. Michael said, “You can have them! Here are the maps of the sea area, such as we have, and Zaphkiel can give you the information about our personnel. I’m going to get some sleep.”

He bowed to each of the others and strode away. Yeshuah turned to Zaphkiel. “Let us begin, then.”

“Good day, Leviathan. How are—
by the death of Cherubiel! What happened?”

Leviathan didn’t answer. Raphael stared down at the legless form of Harut, lying burned and scarred before her. Raphael swallowed hard; then old training took over. She knelt at his side while taking her six-pointed star in one hand. She ran the fingers of her other hand over the top of his head, down each side of his face, around his neck, and over his chest.

“What happened?” she repeated.

“I don’t know,” said Leviathan, “he hasn’t spoken. He was in the battle at the Southern Hold, but I don’t know what may have happened there.”

Lilith touched his chest and nodded. “These could be burn marks, then. He may have been near the Hold itself when it burned down.”

“Burned down?”

“You didn’t know? They set fire to it. Burned it to the ground.”

“That’s it, then,” said Leviathan. “I’d sent him there with a message.” She turned her great head away and swam out of sight.

Raphael turned back to Harut and tried to summon what power she could.

Mephistopheles went slower and slower as the hours went by. The ground was harder here, and the trail more difficult to pick out. Also, it was apparent that Abdiel had no destination in mind, but was simply running wherever his feet took him. This meant that Mephistopheles had to be sure of every step.

Still, he decided, he wasn’t losing much ground. Abdiel was obviously running until exhausted and then resting, which was not the way to cover long distances in a hurry.

More and more often, he would find signs of Abdiel’s having collapsed. At the same time, the signs began to get fresher, and the ground began to get softer and grassier.

For a while, Abdiel was actually on the road to the South, which required Mephistopheles to cover all the ground on both sides to see where he stepped off. This didn’t last long, however.

By the evening of the third day, Mephistopheles felt that he was only a few hours behind. Of course, Abdiel wouldn’t be stopping for the night, but he wouldn’t be going very far, either.

Mephistopheles was content to wait the night. Tomorrow, he felt, would see things settled.

“Stop! Who are—Lord Lucifer? No! Who are you?”

Satan looked at the angel whose sword was leveled at his breast and said, “Who else around here wears a gold cloak?”

The angel held his torch a little closer and cried, “Lord Satan! You’re safe! We had heard—”

“I don’t doubt it. Bring me to Lucifer, please.”

“At once, Lord!”

He called for someone to take his place and set off toward the middle of the camp, Satan striding behind him, Beelzebub padding along complacently.

They reached the central area, lit with enormous fires, and they heard the sounds of a hammer on metal. They followed these sounds to a makeshift forge set up on the shore of the sea, and saw Lucifer, Asmodai, and Lilith speaking together while Asmodai struck something with a hammer in the midst of the coals.

Satan thanked the angel who had brought them and dismissed him with a nod. He approached the trio from behind and coughed gently. Lucifer turned around, and—”Satan!”

“Yes.”

“And Beelzebub! He let you go!”

“Yes.”

By this time Asmodai had dropped his hammer and was standing next to Lucifer, staring intently. Lilith was also studying Satan, as if to see if he had changed.

“Where can we talk?” Satan asked. “There are a lot of things that need explaining.”

Lucifer nodded and led them off to the rocks by the sea. Satan at once noticed a large shape in the water.

“Leviathan?”

She approached. “Yes, old friend. We didn’t have a chance to speak last time.”

“I know. Now, however, I can answer some of the questions you would have had to ask of me.”

“How is Harut?” Lilith interjected.

“He will live,” said Leviathan.

“Good.”

“What is this?” asked Satan. “What happened to Harut?”

“As near as we can tell,” said Lucifer, “he was inside the Southern Hold when it was torched. He managed to get out and somehow got to the lake. Leviathan brought him back.”

Satan shook his head. “But he’ll be all right?”

“He will live,” repeated Leviathan.

“Excuse me,” said Lilith. “But why don’t we start at the beginning? And that, I think, means hearing from Lord Satan first.”

Satan nodded. “All right.” He seated himself. “You may as well get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

What Abdiel noticed, after becoming aware that he was close to the sea, was what he had tripped over. There was a large, jagged hole in the ground several feet to his right, and cracks went off from it in various directions. He had tripped in one of these, which was as wide as his foot and nearly the depth of his arm from elbow to wrist.

He approached the hole, and noticed, in the growing light, that it was blackened in the middle and around the edges, and deep enough that he could hide himself in it entirely. It was a moment later that he realized what it was: the spot where Michael’s sword had struck the ground instead of striking Satan,

He studied it a little more carefully.

As he approached it, a dizzying sensation came over him, followed closely by near-panic. He felt a drifting dissolution creep over him and realized that he was about to fall apart—to return to the raw illiaster from which he had come.

He dived away from the hole and instinctively commanded his body to retain its form.

He succeeded effortlessly. This, in itself, was nearly as surprising as the sudden threat had been.

He approached the hole again, more cautiously this time, and studied it. As he did so, a sudden gleam came into his eyes, and a smile stole across his lips.

He moved back after a while and composed his mind for the effort.

Harut stood up. He was supported on either side by Lucifer and Lilith. Asmodai stood a ways back and studied his legs.

“Can you stand alone?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Harut. Lucifer and Lilith stepped back. Harut wobbled, and held out his arms for balance, but didn’t fall.

“I guess so,” he remarked, grinning broadly.

Leviathan smiled. “I wouldn’t have believed it,” she said.

“Me neither,” said Harut, still smiling.

“Thank you, Raphael,” said Leviathan. And, “Raphael? What’s wrong?”

Raphael, who had been carefully ignoring everyone except Harut, didn’t look pleased. When Leviathan spoke, she still didn’t meet her eyes, but said, “I’m surprised at how easy it was.”

“You’re unhappy about that?” asked Leviathan.

“Not unhappy. Surprised.”

Lucifer studied Leviathan closely, a worried expression coming over his features as if to match hers. Lilith noticed and said, “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” said Lucifer. “But—Raphael, how hard was it to grow new legs for him?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t have to call on my powers as much as I’d thought I would, but it was hard.” She pondered, looking at Lucifer closely. “Still, not as hard as I would have thought.”

“You’ve answered my question, I think. Why wouldn’t it take as much effort to use your illiaster? Could it be that we’ve been wrong about how hard it is to use it between Waves? That all it takes is practice?”

“I haven’t practiced. If it was always this easy between battles, I could have saved his eyesight before.”

“Then something is going on that I don’t understand,” said Lucifer. “And whatever it is, I want to know about it.”

“Raphael?”

“Yes, Asmodai?”

“What you said, about if it was always this easy. . . .”

Raphael nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that. Come with me, Harut, if you will. I’d like to try something.”

Mephistopheles awoke, made a hasty meal, and continued following the trail. He noticed that they were getting close to the sea and wondered if something, unknown to Abdiel, was drawing Abdiel there.

Everyone else was gathering there, and Michael would be attacking at any time now, and the real issues would be settled soon. It was clear that Abdiel had no real knowledge of where he was going; it was a bit of coincidence that he’d ended up so close to everyone else.

The trail got fresher and fresher as Mephistopheles went along, and the signs of Abdiel’s falling more and more frequent. Another hour or two, he decided. And then—they’d see.

Then Mephistopheles noticed that the trees before him had taken rather unusual shapes that he couldn’t remember them having before. Branches were bent back around the trunk, some leaves were shaped differently than others. Even the trunks had unusual bends in them. Odd. What could cause that?

He noted landmarks, and signs of the flood that had washed over this land. Could the waters have done that? Unlikely, he decided.

As he walked, he saw that the oddly twisted trees were becoming even more oddly twisted.

“Whatever it is,” he told himself, “I’m walking right into it. But then, of course, so is Abdiel.”

He hurried on.

Yaweh had left the Palace shortly after Yeshuah.

There had been no one there to see him off, but that was fine; he didn’t want knowledge of his leaving to escape anyway.

He had no intention of leading this fight—it had to be Yeshuah’s. And yet—he couldn’t stay out of it because it was his.

He had been right, he knew, in his lecture on pride, but he didn’t make any claims to perfection. If he fell, so be it. Yeshuah would make a good leader if they won, and it wouldn’t matter if they lost.

He had also been correct in allowing Abdiel to escape; it would be a grave error to let anyone be distracted from the important issues by a personal consideration. But Yaweh had nothing left but personal considerations, and now he knew where to lay the blame for losing the friendship of angels he had loved since the beginning of time, and, pride or no pride, he would settle this.