She screamed it, finally. For ten minutes that had felt like an eternity, she had been saying it in gradually louder tones. Finally, she threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“BELIAL! AWAKE!”
By some ancient property of the chamber, no doubt left from the Third Wave, her voice seemed to come back to her from the walls. She thought that nothing would happen, but then the great beast stirred. A tremor seemed to move down the length of its body—or as much of its body as she could see.
After a moment, one great eye opened. She had the sudden feeling that she could walk into the pupil and be lost.
He saw her, suddenly. His voice came as a low, rumbling sound, as if from out of the ground: “Who?”
Lilith felt ridiculous. “I’m Lilith,” she said.
“Who?” he repeated.
“I’m a friend of the Lord Satan, who needs your help, and the Lord Lucifer, who sent me.”
His eye closed again, then opened.
“What?” came the great voice.
“They need your help. Please.”
“Where?”
“The Western Regency,” she said. “And hurry, please! They are in danger.”
She would never, in all of her existence, have believed that he could move so quickly. Suddenly he was up, two massive legs supporting him. He looked down at her for a moment, then his great head lowered. At first she thought that he was going to destroy her. Then she thought he was bowing.
But his head came down next to her until it touched the ground.
“Get on,” he said.
Trembling, she did.
Zaphkiel reported, “I saw five angels by the water, lord. I don’t think they saw me.”
“Describe the terrain.”
“There is a path,” said Zaphkiel, “that begins about two leagues from here. It is narrow at first; then, after half a league, it expands to a width such that ten may walk abreast. Then, after another league it opens up into a cleft that is perhaps three leagues deep and two wide. There, all is flat, and there I saw Leviathan, Beelzebub, and three others, all speaking together. If we emerge there, they will see us at once.”
“Are there any other features to the cleft?”
“There is a narrow path on the other side, wide enough for three, that goes for two leagues and opens out onto a large plain. This plain is hidden from the cleft itself.”
Abdiel contemplated. “Not wide enough,” he said.
Abdiel motioned Zaphkiel back, then turned to the angels behind him and motioned them to gather round. As they did so, he desperately tried to figure out what to do.
“All right,” he said at last, “you ten in front. If you see the Lord Satan, point him out to,” he motioned again, “you ten. You’ll have the chain.” There were clinking sounds as the chain was passed. “Get him manacled. The rest of you, ah, make sure no one interferes. If the Lord Satan isn’t there,” he added, “don’t do anything. I’ll explain.”
Without giving them time to think about his plan, he held his sword up, and brought it sweeping down. Somewhat to his surprise, the two hundred Thrones ran past him, yelling at the top of their lungs.
“Odd,” he told himself. “I wouldn’t do that.”
As the last of them passed, he fell in and brought up the rear.
“Kyriel?”
“Hummm?”
“Does the Lord Yaweh seem—different?”
“Different how?”
“I’m not sure. But he seems to have changed, somehow.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“He seems to be more, well, active. I’m not sure that’s the right word.”
“Nervous?”
“Maybe that’s it.”
“The way he keeps pacing back and forth?”
“Yeah.”
“Or grabbing those papers and looking through them?”
“Yeah.”
“Or demanding to see Raphael, and talking to her for two minutes, then forgetting about her and starting something else?”
“That’s right.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Huh.”
Then, “You know, Kyriel?”
“Vaguely.”
“Shut up. You know, I’m getting worried.”
“Me too.”
“I’m starting to think about what you said, way back, about running off somewhere.”
“What about it?”
“Well, if someone showed up, like Lord Asmodai, well, I wouldn’t let him attack Lord Yaweh, but I wouldn’t feel good about attacking him, either.”
“Well . . . neither would I.”
“So what do we do about it?”
“Things can’t last like this.”
“I guess not. But what if they do?”
“Hmmmm. Ask me again in a few days.”
“I will.”
Too many sensations. Her eyes flickered from the mountains, rivers, and plains below her—those tiny figures were angels?—to Belial’s mighty wings at her sides. The motions, like walking into a heavy wind, but more, and the feeling of Belial churning beneath her, almost like a lover. His hard, cool scales against her hands; biting wind against her cheeks.
The sound of the air in her ears; Belial’s musky odor. Fear and exhilaration. Joy, and—
Below her, a new sight. She wondered if she had come too late.
“What’s that?”
Asmodai, interrupted by Lucifer’s exclamation, stopped and looked. He didn’t see anything, but he began to hear something like shouts in the distance.
Leviathan raised her head. “Angels,” she said. “More than a hundred. They’re heading this way and waving sticks. Metal sticks, I think. Odd.”
Satan turned, his hand going to the emerald at his breast. Beelzebub rose and stood next to him. Asmodai stood with his hands behind his back, inside his cloak, fumbling at something. Lucifer drew the wand from his side.
The Thrones came into view around a rocky structure several hundred paces away. They kept appearing for quite a while, yelling and waving their swords over their heads.
“More like two hundred,” observed Lucifer.
“Two hundred angels,” said Asmodai. “Against two archangels and three Firstborn. This could be interesting.” From behind his back he brought a short rope, which he began whirling over his head. After a couple of turns it began to emit a soft red glow. As he spun it faster, the red became brighter. Then Asmodai moved his arm and wrist until the rope was spinning in front of him.
“Something new,” commented Lucifer.
The distance between them closed. Leviathan reared up and opened her mouth. Her teeth were very white.
But even as the distance closed to nothing, there was a sound which made everyone look up. A great bellow, louder than anyone had heard between Waves, came from the sky.
Those in the front ranks of the charging angels faltered, and those behind them ran into them. And so on.
From above, a great dark shape was descending, gouts of flame appearing from its mouth.
“Belial!” cried Leviathan.
“Belial!” cried Satan.
“Lilith!” cried Lucifer, seeing the small form perched atop Belial’s neck.
Down and down he came, and the two hundred Thrones turned and scattered, leaving their swords here and there about the field. As they scattered, a long figure was revealed standing near where the rear of the troop had been. Satan would not have noticed him, except that Beelzebub suddenly stiffened at his side and growled.
Separated by three hundred paces, Satan saw him, and, from that distance, their eyes locked. Satan and Beelzebub began walking forward, slowly and evenly. Abdiel turned and broke into a run.
Satan and Beelzebub began jogging, letting Abdiel get ahead for now, content to allow him to exhaust himself. They were willing to follow him forever.
For a few minutes they lost sight of him, as he passed through the pathway. But then they found him again,
still running, only now he seemed exhausted.
He looked over his shoulder, apparently saw that they were gaining on him, stopped, and waited. As they got close, they could see he was trembling, his eyes wide and vacant.
Zaphkiel suddenly appeared beside him, leaping down from the rocks above, still holding a sword.
Without a word being spoken, Beelzebub stepped up ahead of Satan and crossed in front of him, so he was opposite Zaphkiel.
It was the same thing, in miniature, that had happened before. Each side waited for the gap to close. On the other side of the path, Belial was spouting flame and holes appeared in the rock walls and the ground. Behind them, Lucifer and Asmodai had finally seen what was going on and were moving forward.
Then, as if by prearranged signal, Beelzebub and Satan sprang. Zaphkiel held his blade before him, but Beelzebub leapt under it and was upon him.
Satan dived for Abdiel’s throat and would have had it except that Abdiel, screaming, fell over backward, leaving Satan above him.
Satan reached for his throat and—
“Look out!” called Lucifer behind him.
Satan ducked and twisted. Michael stood beside him, his great sword swinging. Them Mephistopheles caught Michael squarely in the back with both hands. Michael stumbled forward, and his sword, with all of his strength behind it, struck the ground.
There was a sound like a thunderclap. All of Heaven seemed to shake, and there was a flash of light, blinding and white, from where the sword had struck. Satan had a confused glimpse of Michael flying through the air over his head and Belial tumbling toward the ground out of control, then all was darkness.
EIGHT
But certainly, if I am not mistaken,
it was just before the coming of Him who took
the souls from Limbo that all Hell was shaken
so that I thought the universe felt love
and all its elements moved toward harmony
whereby the world of matter, as some believe,
has often plunged to chaos. . . .
—Dante, Inferno, Canto xii:37-43
Michael never lost consciousness. As the ground split before him, he was in midair, hurled by the force of the explosion.
“I don’t know my own strength,” he muttered, which was the first time that line was used.
He landed hard, and was recovering his breath when a sudden flood picked him up and carried him inland. He was able to control himself well enough to avoid the occasional obstacle that appeared in his way.
After a few leagues, he found that his feet were beginning to touch the ground. After another couple, he stood up, waist-deep in water.
It was, he decided, going to be a long walk in water. He shrugged. Satan had either survived—or not. For now, Michael must return to the Palace, defeated again.
He looked at his sword for the first time since the explosion and saw that it had taken no damage. He rested it on his shoulder and began slogging his way toward the center of Heaven.
Belial was thrown out of control by the explosion. He had nearly hit the ground when he recovered, his great wings straining to cup the air.
He managed to halt himself before hitting and began to work his wings to climb when he heard a cry from the small angel on his neck. Abruptly, he felt lighter, and he saw her dive into the waters below him.
He wondered at this, but had no time to do anything about it.
He was curious, however, about the sound of Lilith’s scream. He wondered what “Harut” meant.
Satan woke to the sound of rushing water, the taste of salt, and the feel of a sharp pain in his right calf. He realized that he was moving quickly, and along with this awareness came a mouth full of sea water.
He forced himself up, choking and spitting, and looked at his leg, which had miraculously stayed above the surface.
The reason for the pain and buoyancy was obvious at once: Beelzebub had fastened himself to Satan’s leg with his teeth.
Beelzebub looked at him apologetically, but couldn’t speak. Satan gave him a brief smile and looked around.
He noticed, with more than passing interest, that they would soon collide with a large boulder, directly in the path of the waters.
He gave this his full attention.
Lucifer saw the explosion and was knocked to his knees. He heard the sounds from behind him, turned, and saw the waves rushing in. He grabbed Asmodai with his left hand and pointed as he stood up.
Asmodai’s eyes widened as he saw the wave towering over them; then he began twirling his rope again. Lucifer raised his wand over his head, and a scarlet glow issued forth that formed a shield above them.
The wave front crashed over and around them, and they soon found themselves in a small pocket of dry land beneath the sea.
It was, decided Lucifer, an interesting view.
Soon the water began to recede, and Asmodai faced the other direction until it had passed. Belial landed beside them.
Asmodai bowed low. Lucifer began to bow, then stopped and looked sharply at Belial.
“Where is Lilith?” he asked, his voice utterly flat.
Leviathan had felt it all.
She had been sitting in the water, watching as Belial scattered the attacking angels, when she felt the sea itself shake, as if a Wave were coming out from the land.
Then it had come back, seemingly magnified, and Leviathan was swept up and over the land on a mountain of water. It carried her far inland. She had fears of being left stranded and helpless, but she managed to stay in deep enough water to flow back out with it.
As she went, she saw angels, some conscious, some not, floating with her. She realized then that all of the angels -would be sucked back into the sea when the waters receded. She laid her will upon the tide then, and the tide responded.
It receded slowly, settling angels gently onto the ground. Leviathan also receded slowly, occasionally scraping the ground with her belly. She held her breath, to keep herself as buoyant as possible, and at last made it safely back to the sea.
She let the air out of her lungs with a great sense of relief and began the business of causing the silt in the water to fall to the bottom. She hated bathing in dirty water.
Harut had heard the sound of many feet running toward him, and then the shouts and cries. By the time he realized he was directly in the path of an oncoming mass of angels, it was too late. The Thrones knocked him down without seeing him, and he felt himself kicked and cursed and stumbled over. Then something, probably a foot, hit him in the head, and all was darkness.
He awoke, much as Satan did, spitting water and coughing. His head was being held up and there was the sound of gasping next to his ear.
He tried to relax in the grip and found that it was easier to stay up this way.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like hours, until they felt ground beneath their feet.
They waded forward, at last coming to dry land, and collapsed there, panting.
“Who is it?” he gasped.
“Lilith,” she said, also gasping.
“Thank you,” he said, and passed out again.
She nodded, then fell asleep also.
Belial had all but forgotten how to speak, but he managed to convey to Lucifer what had happened and where. This was more of an effort for him than the flight itself had been. When Lucifer understood, he and Asmodai immediately set off in the direction indicated, leaving Belial alone.
Belial reflected on what had happened as best he could, and decided that he didn’t understand it. Cacoastrum he understood. That was the source of pain, and when he saw it, he either fled or destroyed it. Angels were friends, and Satan and Lucifer were old friends. They had been old friends even back before—before it had happened. That terrible, burning pain, the twisting inside and outside as the cacoastrum had torn into his body.
But this was confusing. It almost seemed as if angels had been fighting each other, which wasn’t the way things worked as he understood them.
> Mentally, he shrugged. He knew who his friends were. He still remembered the names of his six friends—-Yaweh, Satan, Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, and Leviathan. These he’d help, and if that meant that he must harm others, well, so be it.
Lilith had known where to find him; therefore others would know where to find him.
He spread his wings and cupped the air. He skimmed along the ground until he found an updraft. He allowed it to carry him to a sufficient height, then he turned toward his home—to wait.
Abdiel allowed the waters to carry him wherever they would, and was finally deposited on a small hill. He looked around, but saw no one. Just as well, he decided.
He determined which way the center of Heaven lay, and began walking toward it.
He reflected on failure.
He could not have known that Satan would be in the company of two other Firstborn, and he certainly could not have known that Belial would show up. But none of that mattered; he had failed.
He had built himself up on successes, and a single failure would bring it all crashing down upon him. He was, he decided, going to have to find a way to repair the damage—and quickly. He looked back the way he had come. Find Satan? Then what? He shuddered at the thought. No, something else.
Well, what problems were there that he could solve? He continued toward the center, his brow furrowed. And, if furrowing the brows is actually useful, he got his reward.
Morale, he realized, was the problem. There were rumors, and words of ill tidings. This was the kind of problem he could address.
Well, then, how? His pace increased as he began to concentrate. Something would have to happen to unite Heaven. Or some new rumor would have to be spread. Or both.
Then he remembered something that he, himself, had said. Idle mouthings at the time, but—
“Ho, there, Abdiel. A word with you, if I may.”
Abdiel turned and saw Raziel approaching him. He found that his pulse was racing. He had forgotten his most immediate problem, he realized. His mouth was suddenly dry.