To Reign in Hell: A Novel (28 page)

The scene shifted several times before coming to rest on the host of angels led by Michael. “Following them as fast as they can. Michael is about three days behind, as near as I can tell. Satan must have discovered Michael before Michael discovered him and gone around.”

“By the flux!”

“Don’t swear, Yeshuah.”

“But you have only twelve defenders, Father! What are we going to do?”

For answer, Yaweh turned to the Seraph nearest him and motioned him over. The Seraph bowed.

“You are Nisroc, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Do you love me, Nisroc?”

Nisroc, a short, dark angel with black hair and a full black beard, dropped to his knees. “Yes, Lord!”

“And do you love my son?”

“I do, Lord!”

“Good. Then rise, Nisroc. Go forth and find as many angels as you can, and give them swords. Hold yourself ready. When Satan is close, I will send you against him, to take or destroy him. Do you understand ? “

“Yes, Lord! I will do it!”

“Good, Nisroc. Now, go!”

“Hail, Lord Yaweh,” said Nisroc, and departed. Yeshuah bit his lip.

“Well, friend Satan, what do you think?”

“To tell you the truth, Lucifer, I’m amazed.”

“At the support we’ve been getting?”

“Yes. I’d hoped for some, but this! How many angels do we have?”

“I’m not sure. Three, three and a half thousand?”

“And getting more all the time.” Satan shook his head. Their army was a full day’s march from the Palace. Every moment it seemed more angels had shown up to join them.

This close to the center, they were out of the rocky areas and into grassland, occasionally spotted with trees randomly thrown up by Lucifer during the Third Wave when his powers got out of control Under such a tree they rested now, for a while.

“You see,” said Lucifer, “they’ve been ready for some time, waiting for someone to lead them.”

Satan raised an eyebrow. “Are you about to lecture me, old friend?”

Lucifer chuckled. “No. I should, because you need it, but I know better than to try.”

Satan nodded. “I think,” he said, “that we’ll split up.”

“What do you mean?”

“This evening you’ll take a fourth, Asmodai will take a fourth, Lilith will take a fourth, and I’ll take a fourth, and we’ll plan on coming at the Palace from each side. We’ll have to come up with some way to use messengers to stay in touch with each other to coordinate the attack. What do you think?”

“I don’t understand why you want to divide.”

“Yaweh. I want him. Alive. I don’t want him to escape.”

“But why not wait until we get there?”

“We’re talking about Yaweh, remember? Remember what he can do?”

“Oh . . . I’d forgotten.”

“Yes. We never used to use our powers between Waves, but we’ve all started to, as much as we can, and Yaweh might, too.”

“You’re right. He could have been watching us all along.”

“Yes. But he wouldn’t run before we get close. And by the time we get close, I don’t want him able to.”

“Good idea.”

“What of Michael?” asked Lilith.

“He’s still a day and a half behind us, according to Mephistopheles.”

“Hmmm. Isn’t that strange?”

“What?”

“Mephistopheles. I’d just about given up on him ever commiting himself to anything. I guess I was wrong.”

“It just goes to show,” said Satan.

Beelzebub rolled over and looked up at him, then returned to his nap.

Leviathan lolled in the water near the spot where Harut liked to stand. Where was he? She had sent him to the Southern Hold herself, but she
shied away from that line of thought. She couldn’t accept that she might have done to him what she had done to Ariel.

But where was he? He would have returned, if he could. Was he taken, then? For the first time in aeons, she gnashed her teeth at her body’s restrictions.

He could be in chains by now, brought to Yaweh and humiliated or even harmed. Or he could have not escaped—no! She wouldn’t think of that.

But there was nothing she could—what was that? Something? His voice? Where? She looked around, but saw only the rocky shore with its small cleft, and nothing but ocean around her.

She listened again, and realized that the voice was coming from within her mind. In that instant, she realized where Harut was and what she must do.

“Well, there it is, Lord Satan.”

“We’ve made it, Mephistopheles, unhindered. How many are we now?”

“Our group has about four thousand angels, Lord. The last reports indicate that the others are about the same.”

“Good! Could you tell how far behind Michael is?”

“I saw the dust cloud from that last hill. He’s a long way off still, but moving fast. He knows where we are. I think they’ll be here in another day.”

“Hmmmm. They outnumber us, too.”

“About three to one, Lord Satan. But by the time they get here they’ll be nearly exhausted from the run, the way he must be pushing them.”

“That’s something, then. We’ll have to move quickly, though.”

“I agree, Lord Satan.”

“Good. Beelzebub, have you looked over the area near the Palace?”

“Aye, milord. There are scarce two hundred angels to defend it.”

“That’s fine. Are you up to running another series of errands?”

“Aye, milord.”

“Good. Tell Lucifer, Lilith, and Asmodai to meet me here, right away. We’re going to plan the attack.”

“Aye, milord. It shall be done.”

Beelzebub ran off.

“How many days has it been, Mephistopheles?”

“Since we left camp? Eighteen.”

“Not bad, eh?”

“No, Lord Satan. Not bad.”

He turned his eyes toward the Palace below him. “If you’re watching, Yaweh, know that your time has come. And remember that you brought it on yourself, it was no doing of mine.”

Michael, Yahriel, Zaphkiel, and Camael walked into the dusk of Heaven, nearly running. Behind them, thousands of angels matched their speed, for they were all committed to the Lord, and they knew that he was in danger.

Michael knew nothing but anger. In part, he was angry with Satan and all of his crew, who threatened Yaweh’s life. But mostly he was angry with himself for having allowed Satan to slip past him. He could tell by the footprints they passed that Satan now had hundreds, maybe even thousands of allies. It should never have gotten this far. He pushed on.

Yahriel was an archangel of medium height, somewhat thin, with stringy brown hair. He looked young. He had a mind able to deal well with the abstract problems of how to move this many angels to here, or where to cut off distances, but he had never given any thought to why the fight was being waged. When he had heard of the Plan, it had fascinated him, but it had never seemed real. He had followed Yaweh because Yaweh had been there. Now he followed Michael because Michael was there. Michael said that they had to move quickly, so Yahriel worked on how to go faster. The moral problems he left to others.

Camael led the Powers, and they were all infected with his love of Yaweh and his adoration of Yeshuah.

Camael had no time to be critical of himself or Michael for Satan
having gotten past them, nor was he worried about it. He knew that if this happened, it was as the Lord had willed it, for was not all of Heaven his to command? No, this was as it should be, and it meant that he must hurry, for the Lord wished to test his servants to see if their zeal was all it ought to be. That was the only reason Camael could see for this, and he was determined that, for his part, the Lord would have no cause for complaint.

Zaphkiel understood what had happened. He had suggested, exactly once, that Michael send scouts to the sides, but his suggestion hadn’t been listened to. This, he knew, had to do with Michael’s dislike of him.

But that was the past, and his future was ahead of him. He had seen Satan and spoken to him. He had seen and spoken to Yaweh. He knew what the possibilities were and understood them, and the only two questions were: which would happen, and where would he fit in?

Zaphkiel was created during the Third Wave, near the border of Leviathan and Belial’s regency. He was created early, so he had actually been aware of what was going on as he fought. From time to time he had seen, in the distance, one angel coming to the aid of another, but he was too far away. There was no one to help him. He had learned to fight alone and survive alone, and he knew that anything he got, he would get alone. He trusted no one and depended on no one.

Zaphkiel had no need to agonize over plans and decisions. The proper action was obvious, and would come as close to insuring his success as anything could. It depended, however, on his being at the right place at the right time.

So he sent his own scouts ahead to determine exactly how many angels had gathered and how Satan had deployed them, and he hurried.

For Zaphkiel, for Camael, for Yahriel, and for Michael, speed was everything.

“You must ask to parley, Lord.”

“Don’t be stupid, Abdiel. Why would he parley? Would I, if I were in his position?”

Abdiel shrugged. “I don’t know, Lord. But Nisroc was only able to gather nine or ten score of angels. They have thousands. We have to delay them.”

Yeshuah was silent. Yaweh turned to Raphael. “What do you think?”

“He’s right, but I don’t see any way to do it. As you said, why will Satan stop to parley? He knows that Michael will attack soon.”

Abdiel shook his head. “Promise him that you’ll tell Michael to hold back, from a good distance. He’ll believe you.”

Yaweh shrugged. “But why will he parley in the first place?”

“I know him,” said Abdiel. “He’d rather talk than fight. Tell him that you’ll negotiate. That you’re willing to discuss the Plan and how to do it and if to do it, and—”

“No!” cried Yeshuah. “We will
not
give up the Plan!”

“I,” said Yaweh, “am of the same mind as Yeshuah on this.”

Abdiel shrugged. “All right, don’t give it up, then. Just speak to him about it. What else is there to do?”

The others looked at each other. “He has something, at that,” Yaweh admitted.

“We can at least speak to him,” said Yeshuah.

“Yes,” said Raphael. “He will speak to us.”

“But,” added Yeshuah, “we will not give up the Plan. Agreed?”

“Yes.” Yaweh motioned to one of the Seraphim. “Sarga,” he said.

The Seraph came forward. “Yes, Lord?”

“Find Michael, quickly. Make sure you skirt around Satan, and tell the Lord Michael to stop where he is and come forward no farther until he is told to.”

“Yes, Lord,” said Sarga, bowed, and departed.

Abdiel sighed. “I would like to retire now, Lord.”

Yaweh nodded. “You may go, Abdiel.”

“Thank you, Lord,” said Abdiel. Yaweh sat back in his throne.

Abdiel left the room. As soon as he was out, he caught up to Sarga in the hall. Abdiel took him to the side and spoke to him in low tones for several minutes.

They sat on top of the hill, in plain sight of the Palace. Lilith and Lucifer held each other close, not having seen each other in some days. Asmodai sat next to Beelzebub, who was next to Satan, who was next to Lilith, so completing the circle.

“Things have changed,” began Satan, “since I called you together.”

The others looked at each other.

“Changed?” said Lucifer. “How?”

“I have received a message from Yaweh, saying that he has ordered Michael to hold his position and he wishes to talk.”

“Talk!” cried Asmodai.
“Now
he wants to talk? He can do his talking to the flux!”

“That is my reaction, too,” said Lilith.

“And mine,” said Lucifer.

“He is willing,” continued Satan, “to discuss the Plan itself. He says that he will consider modifying the Plan, or making us all full partners in it.”

“I have no wish to discuss anything with him,” said Lucifer.

“I’ll talk to him. Or rather,” Satan added with a grim smile, “messengers will talk for me. Yaweh said that he doesn’t wish to see me personally—that he doesn’t feel safe with me, so he suggested messengers.”

Lucifer snorted. Lilith turned away. Asmodai shook his head.

“And the loss of life,” said Satan, “means nothing to you? If we can get what we want peacefully, will you reject it?”

There was silence for a moment, then Lucifer said, “I guess it can’t do any harm to see what he has to say.”

Lilith nodded. “Listening to him, yes. But I will not be talked out of a victory that we have nearly achieved.”

Satan looked at her. Then he said, “All right; I’ll make no decision until morning. I have to think this over. This council has ended.”

He rose and walked back into the darkness.

Abdiel stood in the darkness outside the Palace. The air was chilly, but he found it, somehow, pleasing. There had to be a way out, he knew. First Ariel, then Raziel, and now one step further.

He shook his head. Could he really do it?

Could he
not
do it? When Yaweh found out that Michael had attacked, they would question the messenger. Abdiel couldn’t allow that. And who was that Seraph, anyway? A nothing, a nobody. It wasn’t for himself, Abdiel decided. If nothing was done, Yaweh would either abandon the Plan, despite all his promises, or Satan would attack and destroy them.