From Hell with Love (40 page)

“Oh, honey,” Paimon said in shock, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Wait, Lucifer, are you
sure
he isn’t one of yours?” Zagan asked as he propped up his hand, but he was thrown out of his stupor by the loud roar that filled the chamber.  All eyes turned to Balam, whose roar had shaken the very ground on which they stood, and stared at him as he lowered his head back down to stare at the leper, his chest heaving.

“YOU.  WILL.  DIE!” Balam roared as he swept his podium away with one hand and then covered the ten yards between them in an incredibly fast lunge.  Niccolo did not even have time to move his arms and knew he was about to die, but when he flinched and looked away, he heard a loud impact and a light burned through his closed eyelid.  When he finally opened his eye, he had to adjust to the new source of light, but soon he was able to see what had happened.

There in front of him, in all his glory, stood Lucifer.  Light burned away from him, illuminating the entire chamber and swallowing up the shadows.  Tendrils of energy swirled around the powerful demon, but Niccolo could not stop staring at the pure white wings that flared out from his muscular back, feathers falling from them only to rest upon the tendrils of light and sweep around him.  On his left arm was a simple buckler, even brighter than his body and wings, which pulsated every few seconds, and in his right hand, burning with energy, was a small sword about the length of a Roman gladius.

“Lux,” Niccolo whispered, surprised by Lucifer’s actions.  The fallen angel rarely brought out his true weapons, Lux and Morningstar, as the very sight of them was enough to inspire fear in fallen and humans alike.  That sword had slain countless angels and otherworldly creatures; the light from that shield had inspired a rebellion.

“You
dare
to bring Lux against me, Lucifer?” Balam shouted from the ground, having been knocked away by Lucifer’s efforts.  The ruler of Hell burned with a holy light which had never been taken from him, that he had never abandoned.

“You
dare
to attack my ward?  What
civility
you have shown, brother!” Lucifer said, his voice somehow split into three different pitches, each in harmony with the other.  “What pleasure it has been to see all of you again after so many years.”

“What is the meaning of this, Lucifer?” Belial shouted, wings covered in black feathers projecting from his back as darkness poured out of his face.  “You bring out your weapons during the Council of Kings?  Have you no shame?!”

“Have
you
, brother?” Lucifer calmly replied, pointing his sword toward him and then sweeping it along the semicircle of podiums.  “Have the rest of you?”  The radiant demon brought his blade down and then flapped his wings, the pure energy surrounding him flowing out along with white feathers.

“It has become apparent there is no use for a Council of Kings at this juncture,” he declared, his wings drawing into his back, his shield burning brightly before condensing and retreating into his arm.  “Not if we are going to argue like this, if we are going to abandon reason and let the wicked deceive us.”

“You bastard,” Viné snarled from her podium, her lips quivering in her rage.  “You throw this in our face!  You dare to show yourself for an angel once you have thrown us in Hell?”

“I’m not ashamed of what I am, sister,” Lucifer said, his voice rejoining into one, “that was me as this is me.  I am an angel and will always be one, just like you.  We must not forget our past or our nature, even our mistakes, but I refuse to be ashamed of what I
am
.” 

“This is my sword, my only weapon.  I have the decency to fight my enemies in the light,” he said as he raised his arm with the sword held loosely in his grip.  When he dropped it, the sword shattered into white energy which retreated into his body.  “It is an absolute
shame
,” Lucifer stressed the word as he stared at Viné, Belial and Beleth, “that some of you have decided to hide yourself and your actions in shadows.”

“Good luck, brothers and sisters,” he said before bowing to the last Council of Kings and then stepping back, putting his arm around Niccolo, who was still in shock from Lucifer’s display.  “I hope you make the right choice,” Lucifer concluded before turning and dragging Niccolo away, collecting Cadmus in his other arm as he walked toward the stairs.

“How
dare
you?” Viné screamed behind them, but almost immediately her screams were drowned in nine other shouts and accusations.  Niccolo tried to look behind him to see the result of Lucifer’s actions, but the ruler of Hell pushed him up the stairs and forced him to look forward.

After all, there was no going back.

***

“Scratch,” Niccolo said, only just keeping up with the fallen angel, who was moving even faster than usual.

“Not now, Nico,” Lucifer said without turning, leading them through the busy hallways.  They had been rushing through the palace for the last five minutes, passing by the demons of court and servants without addressing them, even knocking over some of the creatures blocking their passage.

“Scratch, what are we going to-” he started again, but Lucifer glared at him out of the corner of his eye as he continued.

“Not now!” Lucifer shouted, losing control momentarily before continuing.  “Let’s get to the armory, first,” he demanded, turning at the end of the statement.  The Horsemen and Hell Knights followed after, not willing to risk Lucifer’s anger.  Cimeries and Furcas had joined them after Lucifer had thrown down the gauntlet, needing nothing more than a brief wave from the fallen angel.  Niccolo had tried to explain at first, but they did not need an explanation.

The Hell Knights would follow Lucifer no matter what.

When they finally reached the armory, Niccolo had to gape in wonder.  All kinds of weapons from all kinds of civilizations, some of them extinct, were scattered along the walls and different racks standing in the middle of the room.  Halphas, the blacksmith, looked up from his work long enough for Lucifer to point at the far door.

“Go,” he commanded, which was all the rough demon needed, and Halphas escaped from Lucifer’s wrath.  It was only a moment before Azazel burst through the doorway and motioned toward the door with his thumb.

“Umm, why is Halphas running like you’re about to kill him?” he asked, which made Lucifer shrug before answering.

“I might have just started a war,” he explained, which brought a short laugh from the grey-skinned demon.

“Oh,
that’s all
?  And I was expecting something bad,” he said before closing the distance between them and wrapping his tail around a small dagger on a nearby rack, throwing it into his open right hand.

“What are we going to do, Scratch?” Niccolo shouted, his breathing strained from the effort of keeping up with the fallen angel.  Lucifer finally turned to look at him and pursed his lips before settling his hand on the pommel of a great sword to his left.

“I’m going to hold them off, Nico.  Azazel, Furcas, whoever is still loyal is going to help me,” he said before approaching the leper and setting his hands on his shoulders.  “You’re going to go find Moloch.”

“Moloch?” Cadmus asked from Niccolo’s side, catching Lucifer’s attention.

“He’s an old soul, possibly the only one who can help with all of this.”

“How can he help?” Niccolo asked in confusion, causing the fallen angel to offer a sad smile.

“If what I think is about to happen, he’s going to help undo it.  I need you to go get him; he lives outside of Dis, a few miles off the road out of the War Quarter.”

“How are we supposed to find him?” Cadmus asked, at which point Lucifer looked over to Cimeries, who was already shaking her head.

“Cim is going to lead you, she knows the way,” he said, but the woman grunted at his statement.

“No, Lucifer, I will not leave when all of Hell rises against you.”

“It’s not
all
of Hell, Cimeries,” Azazel said, picking his teeth with the blade he had grabbed, “just most of it.”

“I need you to help them, Cim.  My plan is not going to work without Moloch, and except for me and the other kings, you’re the only one who knows the way,” he urged, but Niccolo slapped away Lucifer’s hands and shoved his rotten index finger to the angel’s face.

“Stop being so damn cryptic, Scratch, tell us why you need him!  Tell us why you need me to leave you alone against a city full of foreign demons,” Niccolo demanded, his voice weakening as he continued.  Niccolo did not want to lose Lucifer just because he ignored the rules and threatened a few angels.

“I don’t have the time, Nico, and we’re losing more of it as we talk.  I need you to get Moloch because you’re
Horsemen
.  You’re literally just faster.  Alright?” he asked, bringing his arms back down onto Niccolo’s shoulders.

“That’s all?” Niccolo asked weakly, bringing a smile from the fallen angel.

“That’s the only reason,” Lucifer confirmed before sighing lightly.  He brought up his left hand and wiped away the tear falling down Niccolo’s right cheek.  Suddenly, he could not handle the emotion that came with letting go of his second son and closed his arms around him.

“Be careful, kid.  Do that for me,” he said before letting go and turning to Azazel.  Before he could say another word, Paimon burst through the door of the armory, her clothing ripped in a number of places and her nails extended into knives.

“You sure picked a good time to get it all out there, gentlemen,” she said breathlessly.  Lucifer nodded and then looked down at his Horsemen.

“Now would be a good time to leave,” he said, each man nodding in response before walking toward the other exit, Cimeries behind them.  Niccolo did not bother to look back at the fallen angels before kicking open the door and stepping through.

The three of them broke into a sprint as they left, bowling over demons who did not notice them coming or thought they would stop as they approached.  Niccolo recognized a few, but he did not bother to talk to them.  The only thing on his mind was finding this “Moloch” and bringing him back to the palace.

Hopefully they would not come back to find the palace in flames.

The massive iron doors leading out of the palace were closed when they got to the Reception Hall, but before Niccolo could curse, Cimeries’ pike sailed past him and slammed against the door, almost throwing the slab off of its hinges.  The leper looked over his shoulder at Cimeries, who just glared back.

“Eyes forward, Horseman,” she said, causing Niccolo to wonder just who Cimeries had been during her life.  As they moved past the door, Niccolo saw her pick up her weapon in a fluid motion, hoping that he would never have to fight the woman.  He abandoned those thoughts as they reached the stairs leading away from the palace and then turned his head slightly to address the warrior.

“Just jump and hold onto me!” he shouted, causing the warrior look at him in confusion, but then the green mist started to form underneath her and she quickly jumped to join Niccolo on Plague’s saddle, which had just materialized.  Niccolo grabbed the reins of his horse and slapped them against the creature’s back, not bothering to look at Cadmus, who had already spurred Mercy into a gallop.

“Like you need to tell me to hurry!” Plague shouted at him, but Niccolo did not bother to apologize.  As their horses tore through the streets of the city, Niccolo looked back at the woman whose arms were wrapped around him.

“Who is Moloch, anyway?  Why is he so important?” he asked, staring into her eyes.  Cimeries glared at him for taking his eyes off the street rushing beneath them, but then looked back toward the palace.

“You might as well ask why God is important.”

Chapter 12: Past - Death of a Horseman

Niccolo strung his bow with a quick movement and then pulled the string back with his right arm, hearing the wood creak in protest.  Barbas had supplied the leper with a standard longbow, Niccolo was only one of the many archers in the Pestilence Quarter, but after just a few years even the old demon knew the pairing was inappropriate.  An assassin like Niccolo deserved a better weapon, even if he was still struggling with the afterlife.

However, the leper did not feel the need to complain; Barbas had already done so much for him.  When Niccolo looked down at his mutated arm, he wondered why the fallen had been so willing to help him, to ignore the blight that covered his left side.  The other souls who fell to the Pestilence Quarter were provided for, Barbas saw to that, but the old demon had made an emotional investment in Niccolo for some reason.

The young soul pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it against the string, pulling it back with concerted effort.  Though the strength of the pull was nothing to scoff at, the archer was more concerned with the condition of the weapon.  Niccolo had better quality weapons back on Earth.

When he released the arrow, it screamed through the air before falling just outside of the bull’s eye.  Niccolo sighed at that and grabbed another feathered arrow before setting it against the string.  Though the scarred tissue extended over his eye just like in life, Niccolo had found that it did not affect his eyesight.  In fact, he could somehow perceive his surroundings better than he had when he had two healthy eyes.  Niccolo could
sense
what he could not see and it was a twisted sort of blessing.

A sort of blessing that was throwing off his aim.  The assassin had gotten used to seeing the world with one eye and judging his targets without the use of depth perception.  Though Niccolo had been in the Pestilence Quarter for five years now, he was still having difficulty reclaiming his proficiency.  It was frustrating for the new soul, as he had achieved mastery in just four years of Innocenti’s tutelage.

As he loosed the second arrow, this one striking just to the left of the first arrow and further from the bull’s eye, Niccolo snarled at his efforts.  It was difficult for him to believe he had already spent five years in Hell; it felt like only a month since he had fallen.  However, all of the new souls who fell down to his quarter told stories of the surface which left no room for doubt.