To Reign in Hell: A Novel (21 page)

“You’re right!” said Lucifer in wonder. “How can he do that?”

“I don’t know. But he seems to have them, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. I think we missed our chance to do anything.”

“I agree. Well, what now?”

“I want to see the rest of this,” said Lilith.

“Yes, so do—what’s
that?”

As they watched, Yaweh spread his hands, and a glowing ball appeared in the air before him. The three leaned forward and stared.

Yaweh continued, forcing his will upon the illiaster that had begun to take shape between his hands. Abdiel and Raphael were sweating now, directing the energy toward him.

Yaweh was up to the hard part. It wasn’t simply a matter of doing it—he was creating a thing that no angel had ever before attempted, and the level of detail required was more than he had ever had to deal with. In a lucid moment, he found himself suddenly wishing Asmodai were there.

This brought him back to memories of why Asmodai wasn’t, and his concentration was almost broken by a sudden spasm of anger directed at Asmodai, Lucifer, Satan, and the rest.

This, too, went into his creation.

“Sith?”

“Eh, what?”

“I . . . something happened. I fell over.”

“Me, too. What was it?”

“I don’t know, I just felt dizzy, and . . . then I was down here.”

“I feel... drained.”

“Yes. Me, too.”

“Can you see what’s going on up there?”

“No. There are still some people standing in front of me.”

“Oh. Kyriel?”

“Yes, Sith?”

“Would you mind getting off me?”

“What? Oh. Sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“I think I can get up now.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“Well done. Can you help me now?”

“I’ll try. My legs feel weak.”

“Okay. Ah! There. Wait . . . good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s—Sith!”

“Huh?”

“Look!”

“Where? Oh . . . by the flux! Now who is that?”

He grew from nothing, and stood before Yaweh, tall, strong, and powerful. He had a full black beard, a massive chest, and a large head full of black hair. His eyes were set deep, and of a piercing brown.

He stood before them naked, his hands at his sides, the muscles of his chest and legs standing out prominently. He turned and looked fully at Yaweh. Then, before them all, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head, clasping his hands in front of him.

Yaweh walked forward once more to the edge of the platform and he spoke, saying, “This day I have brought forth him whom I declare to be my son. He will be called Yeshuah, for he will save us from our suffering.

“I give him to you, to lead you through the coming days when our hardships will increase tenfold, that our joy may increase a thousand-fold thereafter.

“Yeshuah, created by love before you all, and no other, is rightful King of Heaven, and he who does not accept his law or disobeys him earns my wrath and shall be expelled from Heaven on that day. For this I can do—the Walls of Heaven are not such that they cannot be opened to permit me to return to the flux any who reject the law of Heaven as I declare it to be—for the good of us all. I have lived alone amid only cacoastrum—who among you could do this?”

His eyes had taken on a burning aspect that those in the front could clearly see. Now they softened.

“My people,” he said, his voice low, “it grieves me to threaten, and to say you must do this, or you cannot do that. It hurts me. But it hurts me more to see you destroyed by the mindless enemy that lives outside. Destroyed by the hundreds and by the thousands. I will not permit it if I can stop it. Now, I can stop it. Now, no one will keep me from stopping it. And now, he who will lead us in this is here.

“Now, all of you who have seen the birth of him who will save us,
pay him homage. I am Yaweh, I have created Heaven and I am father to you all. As you love me, let Yeshuah, my son, begotten before you all, be my arm amongst you.”

He stepped back then and made a sign for Yeshuah to rise and stand by his side. Then all the hosts of Heaven before them fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

Yaweh felt the waves of love and adoration directed at him and at his son, and he basked in them. He smiled. He looked out upon those tens of thousands of angels, and he saw that it was good.

“Milord? What means this, what we have seen?”

“I’m not sure, Beelzebub. I had no idea he could do that.”

“Do what, milord?”

“What he just did. You saw—he created a being himself, out of il-liaster taken from the angels. I’m . . . amazed.”

“Aye, milord. Amazed, verily. But what of his speech. What signifies it?”

“I’m not certain. It’s obvious that he has some scheme of how to use this, but I don’t even know what he wants anymore, much less how he plans to achieve it.”

“What he desires, milord? Certes ’tis clear—’tis all for the Plan that—hark!”

“What is it?”

“Can’st thou not hear, milord?”

“Your ears are better than mine, Beelzebub. What is it?”

“Conversation, milord. They speak in whispers, yet ’tis nigh.”

“Which way? I’d like to know who it is that also wants to hide. Where are they?”

“This way, milord.”

Lucifer looked around quickly. “Did either of you hear something just now?”

The others shook their heads. Lucifer shrugged.

“Well,” said Asmodai. “Now we know. What do you think?”

“What do
you
think?” asked Lilith.

“I,” said Asmodai, “am disgusted. Look at them out there, groveling to that . . . that . . .
thing.
“

“I see what you mean,” said Lucifer.

“Don’t you feel it?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer slowly, “I feel it. But I guess it’s different for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember, I was with him from the beginning. I know what he was like before, and I see what he’s become now. I don’t know what he’s going to be like in a hundred days—or ten. It’s sad. You feel for those who are groveling, and that’s good. But I feel for the one who is making them grovel. What’s happened to him, Asmodai? You knew him. Did he ever seem to you someone who would fill his palace with angels, armed with swords to prevent anyone from seeing him? Who would tell such a lie as to say that he was responsible for us all? Who would make thousands of angels bow down to him? Is that the Yaweh you knew before?”

“No,” said Asmodai slowly, “it isn’t.”

“So what has happened to him?”

“I don’t know.”

Lilith cleared her throat. They looked at her.

“Yes, Lilith? What is it?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t have an answer to your question. But I’ve seen enough. Let us leave, now.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere.”

“And do what?”

“Anything. I can’t take any more of this.”

“All right. I think it’s time we found Satan. I’m still not sure what we’re going to say to him, but we should at least let him know what has happened. Maybe he can explain it to us.”

“I agree,” said Asmodai. “It is time to find the Lord Satan, and tell him that the time has come for him to act. If he is the one that the angels will look to, we must have him for—”

“Drop it, Asmodai. You’re dreaming. The angels aren’t going to look to anyone, now. They’ve been too thoroughly taken in.”

“Are you telling me we’ve lost? Before we’ve even begun?” “Can you look out there and tell me anything different?”

“I can—”

“Please,” said Lilith. “Let us leave here.”

“All right,” said Lucifer. “Let’s go back to Asmodai’s home and figure out how we’re going to find Satan.”

“All right,” said Asmodai. “For whatever reason.” They stood as one and left the woods.

“I don’t see anyone now.”

“Nor do I, milord. Yet their scent doth linger. ’Twas Lucifer, Lilith, and Asmodai.”

“Do you think we should try to find them?”

“An thou wouldst. I can follow them.”

“Then let’s see where they went, if we can.”

“Aye, milord.”

Harut stiffened and turned his head from side to side, slowly, as if he were looking for something. Then he stood and took the path his feet knew so well, to the ledge by the shore. He wasn’t surprised to hear Leviathan already swimming toward him.

“You felt it, too?”

He nodded.

She said, “Any idea what it was?”

“No,” he said. “You?”

“It felt like the start of a Wave, but different, somehow.”

“You felt the flux?”

“Maybe,” she said, her voice sounding confused and hesitant. “I wish I knew what it meant.”

“Someone is doing something.”

“Yes.”

“Yaweh’s speech?”

“Maybe.”

“Lucifer, do you think?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Should I try to find out?”

“I . . . wish you wouldn’t. I’d like you to stay here.”

“All right,” he said softly.

“I wish . . . never mind.”

“I know, honey. I do too. But he’s gone. He wouldn’t want us to dwell on it like this.”

“I know. But it still hurts, sometimes. And then sometimes I become so angry when I think about it that I don’t trust myself.”

“That’s not a good way to be.”

“I know. But what can I do?”

“Don’t dwell on it. Think about other things.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sing for me, Harut?”

“All right,” he said.

And he did so while they waited.

Zaphkiel fell to his knees and bowed his head for what felt like the right length of time, then rose and resumed studying the angels around him.

He decided that there weren’t going to be any immediate problems, so he moved toward the top of the hill where he could get a better view. Presently he came across one of his Thrones still kneeling, his head bowed.

Zaphkiel touched him on the shoulder. The figure remained motionless. Zaphkiel struck him sharply in the back.

The angel looked up and focused in on him. “Why did you do that?” he asked.

“What is your name?” asked Zaphkiel.

“Camael.”

“Get up, Camael. We have work to do.”

“Oh. I was overcome by. . . .” He gestured vaguely toward the top of the hill.

“We haven’t time to be overcome.”

“All right. What do you want me to do?”

“Go through the host, finding the rest of us, and gather them together here. I’ll give further orders then.”

“All right.”

“And go quickly.”

“All right.”

Camael gave a slight bow—he wasn’t sure why—and began moving through the crowd as quickly as he could, looking for Thrones. Zaphkiel continued standing where he was, waiting.

Michael, alone among them all, had not fallen to his knees. He stood, staring blankly at Yaweh and Yeshuah, and wondered what it all meant.

His puzzlement had begun at Yaweh’s speech. Could Yaweh have believed those things? Could they be true? Why was he saying them?

Then, as the rest of the scheme unfolded, even though he had been in on it, he found himself filled with a deep sadness. He had known that Heaven was changing; he hadn’t realized how much. He still believed fervently in the Plan; he wondered why these things were necessary for it to work.

Slowly, the angels began to rise. The Virtues began to assemble around him. Without any conscious decision, he found himself beginning to walk, moving around the assembled angels, looking for problems, knowing he wouldn’t find any.

His head turned this way and that, without registering anything he saw.

He felt a strange wetness on his cheek, and wondered at it.

Zaphkiel looked over the Thrones, quickly counted them, and nodded to Camael. He began leading them, looking through the host, missing no details, yet seeing nothing that required attention.

After a time, as more and more of the angels began to rise, Camael approached him.

“Zaphkiel?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think there will be problems? Now? After what has happened?”

“No.”

“Then why—”

“It is what we are to do.”

Camael looked at him, then bowed his head and stepped back. Zaphkiel continued walking, looking and sensing the mood of the angels around him.

On the platform, at the top of the hill, Yaweh and Yeshuah stood next to each other, their hands held up and palms outward. They bowed, and together they left the platform and returned to the Palace, the Cherubim leading and the Seraphim surrounding them. Raphael and Abdiel walked behind them.

The mass of angels began to drift away. Zaphkiel watched closely, looking for any possible trouble, but none came. The angels dispersed quietly and quickly, each seemingly lost in thought or sharing thoughts with one other.

Zaphkiel nodded his satisfaction.

Michael gathered the Virtues, Yahriel gathered the Dominions, and Zaphkiel gathered the Thrones. They met near the bottom of the hill and began the long march back up it toward the Palace.

Michael turned to look at Zaphkiel from time to time, as if he was going to say something, but he never spoke. Zaphkiel, for his part, didn’t seem to notice.