Waywalkers: Number 1 in Series (23 page)

‘Look,’ said Sam, as kindly as he could, though his gut twisted to think of all the beguiling whispers the spirit had thrown his way, ‘do what I tell you and this’ll all be over quickly. Find me Seth. Tell him to meet me alone on neutral ground. The traditional place.’

The spirit didn’t move.

‘Now, please.’

It snarled its hate but rose to its feet nonetheless, knowing itself tagged for death unless it obeyed, and dived towards the place where the Portal had been. There was a flash of white fire and it was gone. Wayspirits could move faster through the Ways than any other race. It was what made them so valuable to anyone who knew how to summon them.

Sam opened the Portal again, wondering with how much more anger those claws could tear at him now that he’d intruded on the spirit’s privacy. Drawing himself up, he told the part of him fretting at such things that he was a Prince of Heaven and not scared of any mere shadow.

If he’d fully believed himself, he wouldn’t have laughed to hear his own voice. But laugh he did.

Prince of Heaven, my foot. Prince of the unwanted lands, maybe.
 

But still a prince. And not scared of shadows.
 

Resolved in this way, he went in search of the neutral ground with the one thought that gave him strength.
Things are falling in place.

S
am emerged from the Way of Earth in total darkness. His ears were overwhelmed by the rushing of water and his nose by the stench of algae. When he moved, his feet slipped on wet marble, and nearly went out beneath him. His cat-like vision quickly grew adjusted to the dark, and picked out an underground river that roared through a cave of white marble carved out to immaculate proportions by some long-dead dwarvern architect.

The Hell Portal had its own sculpted porch, in which carvings of fire and ice entwined each other in an intricate dance. Moving away from it, he picked his way along the slippery marble path towards the one faint source of light. It came from a small doorway, a faint white flicker of magical firelight that never died down. He paused in the entrance and took out the silver crown, putting it on with reverence for another crowned prince resting inside for all eternity. That done, he drew his sword and advanced.

The cave was huge. Somehow it was dry despite the rushing river outside and the unnaturally still lake at its centre. In the middle of this lake a golden coffin rested, on a platform of diamond that floated as though no more substantial than a feather. The walls were crystal and gave off infinite reflections of the cave’s white magic light, banishing every shadow. From the roof a strange complex of crystals and mirrors was suspended, gently spinning. Where a stray beam of light was caught, it was reflected into the depths of the largest crystal and emerged rainbow-like at the other end, casting all the colours of the spectrum on to Balder’s final resting place.

Sam bowed stiffly to the grave, the traditional mark of respect, and padded quietly round the edge of the lake, eyes never leaving the golden coffin. He felt that if he spoke, the whole shrine would crack and crumble, and he kept his silver sword drawn as much to convince himself as the guardian spirits here that he was a prince of equal measure to this sleeping Son of Light. No one would shed blood in this place. It was the ultimate sanctuary.

He didn’t have to wait long. Playing his fingers along the cool crystal wall of the cave, he jumped when a soft voice said in the door, ‘Well, look who wants to talk. How’s the back?’

Seth, dressed with his usual vanity, stood in the doorway. He had a long, curved scimitar at his hip, and wore long black and gold robes that had been fashionable for about ten minutes during the late sixties, but now survived only in the wardrobe of eccentrics.

Uncomfortably Sam took in his laughing dark eyes, which somehow wore intelligence as a taint. Sam’s own white face was steely. He sheathed his sword. ‘I know what you’re doing.’

‘That’s nice for you.’

‘I know you’re trying to take over Hell.’

‘Only bits of it. I won’t be there long.’

Sam’s face grew warm and he felt his stomach tighten. He bit back on the words that rose with his bile. ‘You killed Freya.’

‘Not personally.’

‘Then Jehovah did it, or Odin.’

‘She was in our way. So are you.’

‘You mean to free them? The Pandora spirits?
All
of them?
Cronus?’
Even now, Sam could hardly believe his own words.

‘Yep. Given the chance, of course.’ Seth sighed, as if bored. ‘You know, I only came out of curiosity.’ He stared thoughtfully at Sam. ‘And to assess the enemy.’

‘Why am I your enemy?’

‘It’s not who you are, Lucifer, it’s what you are. The Bearer of Light. You’re Father’s tool, destined to die in his service. You’ve no choice. Not since we’ve been actively defying Father, and Father sent Freya to investigate us —’

‘Did he?’

‘Most probably, but I must admit’ – giving a sudden, sickly smile – ‘she bungled that thoroughly enough. The only reason I’m here, though, is to see exactly what Father will throw at us next. Let’s face it, it’s going to be you.’ He cocked his head on one side. ‘Why did
you
want us to meet? Why do you want to see me?’

‘Perhaps it’s because… I respected you once. I wanted to see what was left of that. I hoped we could stop this thing now.’

‘My dear boy, you’re several centuries too late. But then, you always were behind the times.’

Sam said nothing, feeling the hate rise inside him.
Seth had everything I never had, and look what he’s doing with it.

‘No,’ said Seth finally, still looking Sam over. ‘I don’t think you’ll be a problem. It’s a pity, really. You could have been a great ally. If Balder had been alive today, if he had been my enemy instead of you, I would probably have asked you to join the cause.’

‘Oh, right. And thank you, my back is fine.’

Seth’s eyes glowed. ‘I wanted you dead. But Jehovah gave the job to that fool Michael. He should have remembered archangels don’t kill archangels, however fallen.’

‘And your so-called cause?’

‘Will make us free.’

‘I feel free enough right now.’

‘Then you’ve never studied French philosophy. Nothing else goes on quite so much about the separateness of being and the imprisonment of the soul.’

‘I prefer good old scepticism.’

‘Did it get you where you are today?’

‘You achieved that.’

‘Nonsense! I’ve merely helped, over the past few weeks. It was Father who put you where you are now.’

‘I have nothing to do with him,’ said Sam coldly.

‘But you’re part of him. He’s part of you. You can’t get much more together.’

‘The same great link connects you to him. Yet you defy.’

Seth looked scornful. ‘Come on, Lucifer. You’ve spent your life defying Father. You’ve spent years trying to get out of his grasp, turn away his plots, be something he doesn’t want you to be. Your entire life has been one long lone act! I’m simply taking it a step further.’

‘How? What exactly are you going to do? Tell me!’

‘Can’t you find out? You have friends who can construct tight, tight shields and know the game our beloved sister, Freya, has finally stopped playing. You’ve been shot, chased, fought, made to dance to any beat but your own – can’t you find out? Or do you genuinely expect me to tell my greatest enemy?’

‘I’ve never crossed you before. You had to kill my sister to make me fight!’

Seth was unruffled. ‘You’d fight me anyway. Time will make you. You’ll die, I fear, of an overdose. Of Time, I mean.’ He frowned, then laughed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It amuses me that I, the Son of Night, who’s masterminded this whole affair, from Freya’s death onwards, am talking to the one weapon that might prevent me from finding freedom.’

A weapon. Not a person.
‘What freedom?’

‘Freedom from Time, of course. You see, Lucifer, you’re thinking in a mere four dimensions. That was always your trouble. Just a little too pragmatic; a bit
too
here-and-now. Time might be life. But he’s also death.’

‘You cannot defy Time.’

‘You did. You were supposed to be the Bearer of Light, Balder’s glorious successor. But you spat at his throne and dared him to make you discharge the Light. You said you wouldn’t be his servant. A risky policy, if you ask me.’

‘Believe me, I’ve paid the price. Banished to Earth for thousands of years before they even invented toothpaste. And Father, for my defiance, didn’t stop his own children exiling me, when I sabotaged the Eden Initiative.’

Seth was silent. When he did speak, his voice was serious, almost concerned. ‘Join me.’

‘No.’ Sam fought the impulse to violate this place of sanctuary by hitting Seth hard in the face. ‘You killed Freya.’ His face was flushed with anger and bitterness.

‘Why do you care? Surely she’s just something you can’t touch from a world you can never go back to. What did she matter to you?’ Seth’s tone was light, but he was watching Sam closely.

Sam’s features had frozen over.

‘Why,’ murmured Seth, ‘I believe that’s it. What
did
Freya mean to you? What would you do for her memory, now that she’s dead? Is that what you’re fighting for?’

His voice darkened, even while it resounded with triumph. ‘But she rejected you. She went to Thor. You meant nothing to her. Stop this stupid game, Lucifer. Not even you are powerful enough to win against us.’

‘I did love her.’ Sam spoke as much as anything for his own sake. ‘But I see now’ – looking pointedly at Seth – ‘that loving someone is rarer than even I used to think.’

Seth ignored him. He moved suddenly towards Sam, who instinctively stepped back. ‘Why don’t you discharge the Light now? Balder would forgive you. You’re his heir, practically his son, albeit not by blood. So read my mind, then destroy me. That’s what you really want to do, isn’t it?’ His smile was immovable. ‘Go on. Fight. You’ve always fought before, why not now?’

Sam said nothing.

‘Ah.’ Seth’s grin widened. ‘But you
are
fighting!’

Sam’s eyes flashed, but still he didn’t respond.

‘Though it’s not me you’re opposing,’ breathed Seth, growing more confident. ‘You’re fighting Time. You think he wants you to strike at me. So you won’t. You’re fighting inevitability. You’ll lose, of course. In truth, you’ve always lost. Like Freya.’ Sam’s hands, hanging limply at his sides, clenched into fists. ‘You know,’ breathed Seth, ‘it was Jehovah who killed her. He had his fun first, of course. Does that upset you?’

Just let me find another time, another place
…

The look on Sam’s face was not lost on Seth. ‘How about poison? Much more efficient. Or the Light? Burn me to a cinder, feel your mind being dragged into a sea of a thousand other minds, forget your name, forget your troubles, forget —’

Sam’s hand lashed up, and the silver dagger was in it. The tip came within an inch of Seth’s face, and froze. Seth’s own dagger was out, an inch from Sam’s gut. The water around Balder’s statue rippled in concentric circles. Sparks filled the air around their weapons. Neither could move their hand towards the other.

‘Another time, another place,’ Sam said out loud. He smiled grimly. ‘Besides, there are things I need to know.’

They watched each other as both daggers disappeared. Seth demanded, ‘Where will you get your knowledge? There’s no one left.’

‘Yes there is.’
Freya’s diary. Gail. Remember me, Freya? I’m the one who treks around the world fighting other people’s battles. Miss me, Freya? I’m nicer than I look.

‘But I might get there first,’ said Seth. ‘And I fear that unless you get yourself out of this affair fast, you’ll never learn anything again.’

‘No. You stop this.’ Sam said. ‘It’s well known that a man with nothing left to lose will fight ten times harder. You legitimate children never really knew or understood the extent of my power. Magic was never made an official Queen of Time because the other queens feared her; she was one of those powers that could defy all futures to make the most improbable, the most lonely little possibility come to life. Miracles have always been an unpredictable factor that defies prophecy and divination – that is why my mother was reviled. And that’s why you fear me!’

For once Seth’s smooth manner was nowhere to be seen. His eyes burned, but he looked at Sam with a face as expressionless as a visor.

‘Remember this. I’m the one worshipped as God of Destruction.’ He turned before Sam could speak and strode to the door, pausing to look back like an actor leaving the stage. ‘As a Bearer of Light, fighting alone, you may be interesting. But nothing more.’

He vanished into darkness, leaving Sam staring at vacancy.

You meant nothing to her.
 

‘Sebastian?’

He knew the second he heard her speak what she was going to say. ‘Sebastian’ had told him all.

‘Lucifer. I am Lucifer,’ he replied quietly, knowing it to be futile. ‘Call me by my proper name, please.’

He had been sitting in front of the television, watching man taking his first steps on the moon and wondering what humankind would dream up next. Sam had been waiting several hours for her, and when she’d knocked diffidently on the door he’d known. She never usually knocked. They understood each other too well for that.

‘You know I have to go,’ she said suddenly, desperately, wanting him to believe. ‘I can’t stay with you any longer.’

‘Why?’ he asked simply.

‘My house is dying.’ She almost shouted the words at him, knowing he couldn’t care less for Thor or Odin or any of the rest of her ancient, declining family. ‘Valhalla is dying!’

Good riddance.
‘And you must go and be Thor’s companion princess. Yes, I think I know this story. It’s the one about the princess, the prince and the pauper, where the fair princess is forced to marry for the sake of country and duty, right? And the unfortunate pauper is left to shovel the shit like all other
banished
peasants.’

‘Lucifer…’ she began, a note of pleading in her voice.

‘Go,’ he snapped, suddenly determined. ‘Do the right thing. You know you must. Do it now, and don’t look back. I’ll honour our agreement; I swear I will. You won’t hear anything from me. Not unless you want to.’

If anything this made it worse, but then hadn’t he known it would?