To Reign in Hell: A Novel (25 page)

He cleared his throat. The sound seemed to carry for leagues. He licked his lips.

“Brothers,” he said, his voice soft and even. “I have been asked what we ought to do. This is difficult for me, because I’m not certain myself.

“I was asked, when the Plan was first being considered, to take on the task of making sure each of you did his job. That is, I was to report to the Lord Yaweh the names of those angels who failed, or were delinquent in their duties, and devise means to remedy their actions.

“At first I accepted this. But as I began to think more and more of what it would be like, I wondered if it were really
right
that such a thing be done. Why should I ask someone to risk himself if he chose not to? Who gave me this right? The more I thought, the less pleased I became. At last, I resolved that it would be someone else who did this, that I could not take this role. If I must have a task, I would work on the Plan as others do.

“I never had the chance to speak with the Lord Yaweh. By the time I decided, things had gone too far, and his rage was too great to allow him to speak to me. Well, so it was.

“But this does not mean that I counsel anyone else to oppose the Plan. I see it as a benefit to all of Heaven, and I see no reason to try to build anger at it. If any of you, however,
do
oppose it, I would say that you should not go forth hostile toward the Lord Yaweh. Rather, speak to him, or to those whose role it is to assign you your task, and explain why you do not favor this Plan. Why should we subject ourselves to threats we create when we live in a world with threats enough from that which is outside of Heaven?

“If this fails, then, if you are prepared for the results of your actions, refuse to engage in helping the Plan. I warn you that the results
of this may be severe, but, above all, you must be honest with yourselves.

“Do not go forth from here armed as for war. Remember that even if we do not accept the Lord Yaweh’s claims, we all owe him much, as the first of the Firstborn, and I would not see him opposed by force.

“That is all I have to tell you. Thank you for listening to me.”

“Stay where you are, coward and villain!”

Abdiel’s voice came thundering up from the crowd and was as loud as Satan’s own. Satan stood, stunned, and began looking around the crowd for the source.

“I said remain there,” the voice continued, “and hear the truth, along with those whom you wish to take in with your lies and your half-truths. Who would have thought to hear such words spoken, and so soon after our Lord has brought us together in the greatest happiness we could have known!”

Satan spotted him at last, and, before them all, gnashed his teeth in rage and frustration. Beelzebub was suddenly next to him, looking down, but too far away to act.

Far off, near the lake, someone else recognized the voice. His eyes narrowed to slits, and his mouth drew up into a grim smile. Mephistopheles began working his way toward the voice.

“Abdiel,” he muttered to himself. “Your time has come.”

“You have defied Yaweh, from whom our lives flow, and you lead these others to do the same. How dare you! He from whom we are all sprung may yet forgive you and those who have listened to you if you will fall, now, upon your faces, and ask his forgiveness. Pray to him, and it may not be too late. Refuse, and the wrath of Yaweh will descend upon you!”

By this time, Satan had recovered somewhat. He remained where he was and looked at Abdiel. “It is very interesting, Abdiel, that you find life to be so important that you ask these angels to sacrifice theirs to the one who, you claim, created it. If life is so important to you, I challenge you to explain the death of Ariel! Remember, I saw—”

“Don’t tell me what you saw, false one! I have seen the Lord Yaweh, and I have seen Yeshuah! I have seen you, trying to stir the minds of the
angels against them, and now you wish to turn my arguments into paths of your own choosing, to further confound the faithful. Why do you not speak of why you defy the wishes of your creator?”

“We will speak of that, then. You forget, Abdiel, that I, too, am of the Firstborn. I know what our debt to Yaweh is, and I know what its limits are. Since you force the issue, I will say this: it was no conscious act of Yaweh that brought life to Heaven. It may have been an act of his, without thought or deliberation, and we do owe him a debt, but—”

“Oh, miscreant angel!” cried Abdiel. “I fear you are lost. You will be cast out from Heaven for this treason against your creator. But what of these others? Will you continue to delude them, and so lead them to follow you to your doom?”

“I lead no one,” said Satan. “And as for the rest. . . .”

“He’s debating with him!” said Lilith.

“So?” said Asmodai. “He has to answer those claims, doesn’t he?

She shook her head. “He’s making his arguments legitimate merely by discussing them. He’s—Lucifer? What are you doing?”

“My own form of debate,” said Lucifer. In his hand, his wand was glowing bright red. He was walking toward the window.

“No!” said Lilith. “If you destroy him, you give his arguments that much more weight.”

“Wait,” said Asmodai. “You don’t want to debate, and you won’t let us kill him. What
do
you want?”

“He must be silenced, but not killed. He must be cut off, so he can’t be listened to. If Satan won’t do it, I—I’ll show you what I’ll do!”

She walked toward the window. Lucifer walked behind her, still holding his wand.

“If you fail,” he said, “I won’t.”

“Harut!”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Do you know how they’re doing that trick of talking so loud?”

“No idea. Why?”

“Then you’ll have to go for me. Can you find the Southern Hold if I point you at it?”

“Sure.”

“Good. Get there and warn Satan. There are angels marching toward us—armed angels. They’ll be here in minutes.”

“I’ll hurry.”

Mephistopheles slipped through the angels as if he were water, sliding in and out, all but unnoticed. Closer and closer, but not quite there. He had no weapon, but needed none. His hands itched for Abdiel’s throat. At every step, an image of Ariel appeared before his eyes.

The sound of Abdiel’s voice came to him as from a great distance, though he was nearly to him now. He saw a ring of angels and knew that they were watching Abdiel. He moved past them.

Lilith stepped up beside Satan and opened her mouth, at the same time moving to push him aside. Behind her, Lucifer raised his wand and took aim at Abdiel. Asmodai held his hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.

Suddenly he tightened his grip. “No!” he said, whispering.

Lucifer turned. “What—? Oh!”

Then Lilith saw it. Then Satan, in mid-sentence, stopped and looked.

Over a small hill, angels were running, swords flashing in their arms.

The four of them stood in stunned silence, then Lilith turned to Lucifer and cried, “Get him! Quickly!”

Lucifer turned back, then he howled with rage. Abdiel was nowhere to be seen.

Zaphkiel calmly led his Thrones into the angels nearest him. His sword swung, almost slowly, and the angel in front of him cried as it cut into his side, and a sickly orange glow came from the wound.
Without slowing, Zaphkiel swung again, and another angel fell, holding his head and screaming. Behind him, two hundred Thrones entered the fray, and the sound of screams spread in an ever-growing circle around them.

Michael started swinging his great sword well before he reached the angels in front of him. They fell back from the golden-hued blade and ran. They tripped over each other, and many lay sprawled on the ground.

Behind him, the Virtues came, likewise swinging swords in wide arcs. Angels on the ground were trampled beneath their feet. As panic spread, the moans of the injured filled the ears of those nearby, with distant screams for accompaniment.

“Father! Do you see? They are being put to flight!”

“Yes, I see. But remember, this is only a beginning. I—wait.”

“Yes, Father?”

Yaweh frowned for a moment, looking around at the shocked faces of the Seraphim, then said, “All of you, get out! Return in an hour. You have no need to see this.”

They bowed as one and left the room, except for Uriel. “May I stay, Lord?”

Yaweh looked at his face, filled with zeal and flushed with excitement as his eyes feasted on the battle.

“Yes,” said Yaweh, feeling suddenly sickened, “you may stay.”

“Kyriel?”

“Yes, Sith?”

“We were wrong. We were right before. Remember, we said that Yaweh wouldn’t do anything to them, that they were just listening?”

“I remember.”

“I want no part of this. I may be changing my mind too much, I
don’t know. But I know my own stomach, and it rebels at what I just saw.”

“Well, Sith, I’m unhappy too, but—”

“You first convinced me that we could take ourselves away from this.”

“But that was before we saw with our own eyes how—”

“I don’t care! I won’t be a part of this. It would be like throwing myself out into the flux. Maybe Yaweh will do that to me, but he’ll have to catch me first. And he
won’t
catch me helping to throw my brothers out there.”

“But you are of the Seraphim, now. You can’t—”

“Just watch me!”

“Sith, I—”

“I’m leaving, Kyriel. Are you coming or staying?”

“Sith, I can’t . . . I don’t know.”

“Decide. Now.”

“But I . . . all right. I’ll come.”

“Good. What are you doing?”

“I’m putting down my sword. I’m not going to need it, am I?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Do you think to—are you going to
fight
him, Sith?”

“If he tries to throw me into the flux, I’m not going to lie down and let him.”

“But—all right. I’ll keep it.”

“Let s go.”

THIRTEEN

Set out running but I take my time,
A friend of the Devil is a friend of mine.
if I get home before daylight,
I just might get some sleep tonight.

—Robert Hunter, “Friend of the Devil”

Michael looked about him.

All of the angels before him had run; only angels of Yaweh remained in sight. He nodded his satisfaction, then stopped. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the lake and saw Leviathan towering above it. Her eyes locked with his.

He licked his lips and tightened his grip on the sword. He marched toward her. She remained unmoving, staring at him. When he was close, she said, “Must you, friend Michael?”

He stopped. “Will you swear eternal allegiance to the Lord Yaweh and the Lord Yeshuah, newly anointed King of Heaven? Loyalty and obedience in all things, unquestioning?”

“Of course not,” she said. “Don’t be foolish. Do you really believe all that?”

He shrugged. “No, not in the way you mean. But today you acted in concert with those who threaten Lord Yaweh, whom I swore to protect long before we knew what oaths were. I can’t let you hurt him; I won’t let you interfere with the Plan. So what choice do I have?”

“Anyone else in your group, Michael, I would destroy.”

“Which means?”

“You’ve won, for now.”

Her head disappeared beneath the water, followed by the length of her body. Her tail showed in the air for a moment, then it, too, vanished.

Michael knew, somehow, that she had gone, though he didn’t know how she had done so. He suddenly felt lighter, as if he had been carrying a burden that was now removed.

Without another look, he turned and headed toward the Hold.

Zaphkiel and Camael stood together as their forces assembled. They surveyed the scene, clean and empty except for the Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, and Powers. They saw Michael walking back from the lake, but he didn’t appear to see them.

Camael turned toward the Southern Hold. “Might they still be in there?”

“Doubtful,” said Zaphkiel. “I’ll check, though.”

“No need,” said Cameal.

“Oh?”

“If anyone is left, we’ll find him.”

“As you will.”

“As the Lord will have it.”

Zaphkiel shrugged. Camael motioned toward several of the Powers who stood nearby. “Kindle fire,” he said as they approached him.

They hastened to obey. If Zaphkiel noticed the strange lights burning in Camael’s eyes, he gave no sign.

The fires were soon lit.

Abdiel spotted Zaphkiel quickly approached him. “Well done,” he said.

Zaphkiel nodded.

“Your timing was quite adequate. I think we got all the effect we could. I’m going to get us back together now, and—what in Heaven?!” Abdiel turned as he spoke, in response to a cracking sound from behind him. He saw smoke, then flame welling from the near wall of the Hold, then a blast of hot air struck him and flames appeared from the windows near the top. He spun back to Zaphkiel. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Camael.”

Abdiel turned back to watch the blaze. Slowly, he nodded.

Michael came up to them. “Who did you say?”

“Camael.”

Michael studied the blaze. “Why?”

Zaphkiel shrugged.

Camael motioned the last of the Powers out of the area and remained behind, a flaming brand still in his hand. He spat, then, into the fires and walked slowly out. Behind him, a portion of the ceiling fell in. Below him, out of his sight, the flames licked the barrels of lamp oil and worked their way closer to the refinery.

Satan held himself still, crouched behind a rock formation about three leagues distant from his home.

“They’re still there,” he said.

“They will leave anon, milord.”

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Can’st not, milord? That is passing strange. Thou hast struck the Lord Yaweh; he hath returned thy blow. It amazes me not.”

“But how can you say I struck him? I never intended—what is that?”

“What, milord? Thine eyes are better—”

“Smoke! There’s smoke coming from . . .
NO!”

He lunged forward, but Beelzebub was the quicker. His teeth fastened on to Satan’s leg, tripping him. Satan fell, rolling over onto his back, and Beelzebub landed on his chest.