by Cate Corvin
The golden chain was warm now. I was so close, so fucking close, I could almost reach out and touch him.
Lucifer looked down at his father, his expression unreadable. Even from the side, I could tell he had none of his usual warmth in his features; this was completely the other one, the Lucifer whose soul was owned by Satan.
I wouldn’t let that thing take him from me.
I threw myself forward the last foot, gasping from the struggle, and my fingertips just brushed his shoulder. His skin was burning hot, like touching a coal fresh from the fire.
His head snapped around, mouth downturned in a frown.
“Lucifer!” I gasped, gripping the chain between us with everything I had.
Lucifer’s brows tightened, his eyes narrowed and turned to distant liquid mercury. He took a step forward, tipping his head to the side as he studied what must have looked like empty air to him.
And the Chain had finally had enough. It ripped me backwards, yanking the golden chain out of my hands and jerking me into the sky overhead.
Everything spun around me, blurring with the shriek of wind. Through blackness, through fire, through ice, the world turned upside down-
I plunged through obsidian and slammed back into my body, all the weight of a real live body hitting me at once. My heart hammered in my throat so hard I tasted blood, my lungs spasming to draw breath.
I was laying on my back, supported by dozens of hands, and looking up into the eyes of rapturous Chainlings.
“What did you see, my Lady?” one asked.
I blinked. My hands ached like I’d held them in a fire.
“Lucifer,” I whispered.
12
Melisande
I sat up slowly in the midst of the Chainlings, my head spinning from the sensation of being plunged back into the physical world and from the thick smell of incense.
My mouth had gone dry as dust. I felt like I’d walked through some sort of dream; only moments ago everything had seemed completely clear, but now my memories of what the Chain had showed me were going fuzzy at the edges.
I’d heard a name… a name that had seemed so familiar at the time, but now I couldn’t recall it at all. Had it started with an R? Or maybe it’d been an S… either way, the visions of Earth in the past were already dissipating. Those memories had belonged to another mind in another time, and weren’t mine to keep.
But everything after the vision of my rise from death was completely clear.
I sucked in a deep breath, wishing I had water. I’d traveled through a darkened abyss and come out on the other side to a blasted mountain range, where Lucifer was hiding with Satan.
“Lucifer,” I whispered again, my hand automatically rising to clutch at my chest. I yanked the front of my dress down an inch, exposing enough skin to reveal the mate mark of an inverted cross that was still inked pitch-black on my skin.
It glimmered, and I squinted hard, trying to pick out the light again- and there it was. A slight chain, no thicker than a spider’s web, just barely shining golden enough to see it.
I flipped my hand over. Belial’s spiraling mark had glints of red in its depths, and the circle of Tascius had taken on the faintest hint of moonlight.
“Do you see this?” I demanded, my heart hammering. I held up my hand, showing my marks to the Chainlings. “The other chains?”
The one who’d brought me down here was still crouched in front of me, as rapturous as the others. “No, my Lady. What the Chain shows is for your eyes only.” He stood up, gently sweeping dust off his knees as he rose, and held up his arms. “The Chain has finally communed! Our Lady of Wrath has been blessed by its links and all-knowing wisdom!”
They didn’t cheer, but some of them were quivering in a way that made me think they were repressing it. I hadn’t really understood their religious fervor until I’d been ripped through time and space for myself.
Who wouldn’t pay worship to something that powerful? I kept thinking of the glistening web I’d seen that had linked everything. Nothing was untouched by its strands, from the pinnacle of Heaven to the depths of Hell.
Everything was connected. And now that I’d finally touched it for myself, I would be able to find the ones I loved.
I stood up shakily and managed to bow in return to the Chainlings without falling over. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve shown me.”
The leader led me back through the temple, parting the crowds for me. I was trying to keep my breathing steady, not to jump out through my skin at the news. Fortunately, the Chainling didn’t try to hold me up or coddle me. I needed to walk on my own; now that my path was clear, it was time to finish healing and prepare to go out into Hell. I couldn’t afford to rely on anyone else.
For the entire duration of the upwards climb into the arena, I kept playing the visions in my head over and over, committing every last detail to memory. The drifts of ash, the jagged peaks, the endless chasms.
And the look of complete emptiness on Lucifer’s face. I hoped he was fighting it, but his tattoos had been so viciously red, wrapped around his body like a prison.
As soon as I climbed the uppermost step into the familiar halls overhead, I gave the Chainling my goodbyes and managed to walk to the end of the corridor. But the moment I hit the end, I broke into a run, uncaring of the slight ache in my wing and wounded shoulder.
I needed all three of them. Azazel was sleeping, Belial and Tascius were still in the Ninth Circle-
Or at least one of them was still in the Circle below. The eclipse on my wrist was warmer than the sigil on my palm, the chain between us strong and bright. I held up my arm, watching as the chain connected to Tascius brightened and faded. The harder I thought about him, the bright the connection was.
No matter how much distance was between us, I’d always be able to see and follow the chains now.
I ran down the stairs and through the empty stands to the rest of my fortress. The faint sound of metal on metal tinkled in the distance, catching my ear.
They were in the training rooms, of course. I skidded to a halt in the doorway as Tascius leveled an attack at Michael with a broadsword, just missing the older archangel’s abdomen.
Silver against gold, they fought like tigers, hacking and slashing in a flurry of white wings. Haru leaned against the back wall with one foot propped up behind him, arms crossed over his chest and smirking as he watched the fight.
Tascius and Michael were absorbed in attempting to kill each other, but Haru’s smirk faded when he saw me.
“What is it?” His voice was as sharp as the canines that flashed when he spoke. One luxurious tail flicked behind him in agitation.
I tried to calm my heart rate. “I need Belial if you know where he is.”
Tascius faltered at the sound of my voice, and Michael drove the butt of his sword into his solar plexus.
I winced, but Tascius didn’t go down. He pulled a face and shot Michael a dirty look, but the golden archangel just let out a booming laugh.
“We need to meet up right now,” I added, stressing the now. “I think I know where Lucifer and Vyra are.”
Haru had pushed off the wall. He shrugged his arms into the sleeves of his kimono and was at my shoulder before I blinked, looming over me. “Where?” he asked, his tone dangerously silky.
“I don’t know where, which is why we need Belial.” Did they not understand the urgency? I pulled the sword out of Tascius’s hands and tossed it aside. “Let’s go, now.”
Azazel was sleeping upstairs. I could go get him… or I could practice calling them.
I turned my back on the lot of them, squeezing my eyes shut for concentration. We were all connected by the Chain, and it seemed like mate marks were a special sort of chain. If I could feel their emotions, surely I could reach out to them.
My fingertips brushed over the violet star on the nape of my neck, and I felt for Azazel’s bond, the sense of comforting, all-encompassing darkness he gave off.
I cracked one eyelid, and there it was: thin and shimmering violet, extending over my shoulder and into the ceiling overhead, leading towards the bedroom.
His emotions were unclear to me: he was dreaming, his emotions sliding from one to the other and back again. Here and there was a slight ripple of worry and anger, but then his thoughts would go dark again, leaving his connection as calm as a still lake.
What did someone like Azazel dream of?
Azazel? I thought his name with all my might, holding onto the violet links in my hand. I probably looked like a crazy person, standing there with my hands up in the air, but there was a sudden shift in his emotional climate: from the depths of sleep where his emotions were hard to control and vague, to his usual iron control.
The air in the arena shivered, and Azazel stepped out of thin air, perfectly dressed and looking nothing like he’d just been completely unconscious.
His arms were wrapped around me before I even lowered my hands. “You called for me?” he asked, his voice soft in my ear. I felt warm lips brush my cheek as I turned to look up at him.
“It’s an emergency, Azazel,” I said. “We need to get Belial and meet in the war room.”
He nodded, his lips tightening, and stepped out of existence again.
Tascius took my hand as I plunged into the corridor, heading for the meeting room we’d christened the ‘war room’. It wasn’t large, but it had a table and enough chairs for everyone to sit and discuss our next move.
I forced myself to slow down a little. Fortunately, my memories remained clear for now. I still had the image of the landscape around Lucifer imprinted in my mind.
“Is he helping you at all?” I asked my large friend, dropping my voice to a near-whisper. “Or is he just being a pain in the ass?”
Tascius flicked his silver braid over his shoulder. “A little of both, if we’re being honest.”
Behind us, Michael told Haru a dirty joke and cracked up laughing.
I rolled my eyes skyward. Maybe I should’ve left him in the Pit.
“There’s so much I don’t know,” Tascius said. He moved his hand up to wrap his arm around my shoulder instead, conscious of the bandaging. “If it helps, I’m willing to suffer him.”
“Good, because we’ll probably need it.” I scowled as I shoved the war room’s door open. If we had to cross that abyss of darkness to reach Lucifer and Vyra, we needed an archangel’s light on our side.
I’d barely pulled a chair out when Azazel rematerialized along with Belial. The Watcher was already sitting, but Belial stumbled and almost ran into the table.
“Fucking space-time warps,” he muttered, and came to sit on my other side, his brows still pulled in a scowl. “Azazel, you interrupted a meeting with Adranos and Lucifuge Rofocale. It’d better have been worth it.”
I wrapped my hand around his and he pulled it into his lap. “It’s worth,” I told him. “Trust me.”
Michael sat in a chair, legs spread wide and holding another bottle of whiskey, and Haru, as usual, leaned on a wall. The kitsune wasn’t one for sitting down; if he wasn’t pacing, he was standing at the very least.
All eyes were on me.
I looked at my Watcher across the table. “Azazel, this is likely going to be your forte, but I want everyone in here to hear it. I went into the Chainlings’ temple tonight and managed to make contact with the Chain.”
Deep interest flickered in his violet eyes. “What was it like?”
“Terrible,” I said, but I couldn’t remember exactly why. Besides Lucifer’s location, I had only a vague sense of despair and unease about everything else it had shown me. “But I saw Lucifer. And I mean exactly where he is right now.”
I described flying over the Fields of Asphodel, the dark sea, the void of light and color that had seemed endless… and finally, the jagged mountains covered in a soft fall of ash.
Azazel sat straight up when I mentioned the ash and withered trees.
“His soul-bonds were still in effect, yes?” he asked, his voice clipped. It was easy to see his mind was already racing, far beyond this room to look at the bigger puzzle pieces around us.
“They were crimson,” I said quietly. “And looked painful.”
Azazel gave me an apologetic look. “Did he see you?”
I shook my head slowly, looking down at my hands entwined with Tascius and Belial’s. “I don’t think so, but don’t quote me on that. I touched him. Physically, I mean. The Chain didn’t want me to get too close, but I just managed to brush his shoulder.” I looked back up at Azazel. “He felt like he was burning, Azazel. It was like touching a fire. But even if he didn’t see me, he seemed to sense something was there. He was trying to reach back out when the Chain pulled me away again.”
Azazel nodded slowly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “Perhaps the Chain had the right of it.”
“So you know this land?” Tascius asked, his metallic eyes focused on the Watcher. “You looked like you knew what she was speaking of.”
Azazel’s jaw tightened, just a fractional movement that gave away so much about his feelings. “I have very strong suspicions, but I want to scry the area myself before I claim anything with greater confidence.”
I leaned forward. “And if you’re right, we’re going. Let’s all agree now. The moment we know where they are, we go.”
He gave me a sharp look. “Satan is with him, Melisande. The Sword is in pieces.”
“We have a smith,” I countered. “I’m sure Wayland will put it back together.”
Azazel’s eyes softened. I knew he would go with my plan, unwilling to blunt my hopes. “If Wayland can touch the pieces, then we’ll have it remade. But we’re not rushing in without a plan.”
I nodded, but my mind was now a million miles away. I didn’t think my hopes were wrong at all. Having faith that everything would be well was how I made it through the darkness; I wouldn’t lose it now.
Not when everyone needed it the most.
13
Melisande
Tascius looped an arm around my waist, looking down into the abyss below. “Ready to go in?”
Without total faith in the ability of my wings to support my weight, I was feeling actual vertigo for once. The depths of the Pit seemed so much more shallow when I knew I could pull myself out; right now, I mostly just felt a sense of impending dread while peering towards the invisible bottom.
I felt for the pouch tied to my belt, ensuring it was firmly attached to me. “Ready. Let’s drop.”
Tascius leaned forward and plunged into the drop, bringing me with him.
The air whipped my hair up behind me as we fell, plummeting right through the icy, pale blue fire that shocked me and crept over my skin like lightning.
When the spires of the towers below came into sight, Tascius’s wings spread wide and caught the air, slowing our plummeting descent to a gentle fall. He gripped me even tighter, his brow furrowed with concentration as he found a clear landing spot on the black floor.
As soon as he put me down, I unhooked the bag’s loops from my belt and pulled it open. “Maybe you should let me handle this part. Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean it’s inert.”
Tascius shrugged one broad shoulder, looking around the Pit with a suspicious eye. “We don’t know until we try.”
I didn’t complain about his unsubtle recon of the area. The assassin in the Sixth Circle had been far too close a call for my liking, and for all we knew, the loyalists had moved into the Pit as soon as Satan left.
Far above us, Azazel was in his shadowy raven form, circling over the entrance to the abyss like a vulture. As we’d agreed, if anyone stepped foot near here while we were at the bottom, he wouldn’t hesitate to swallow their souls.
I’d tried to convince him to at least get an explanation, but no one was willing to be that lenient, and with the potential for more angry assassins, I couldn’t say I’d fought too hard against their bullheadedness.
But it was dead silent
down here. Not even the wind overhead could be heard; it was a silence so complete it pressed in on my ears, with the exception of Tascius’s soft footfalls and our breathing.
I found the remnants of the broken Sword of Light almost immediately, thanks to the soft glow Tascius now seemed to permanently give off. The pale light glinted off the silver shards scattered across the floor and caught the warmth of gold; the hilt laid there forlornly as though waiting for me to pick it up, surrounded by its broken body.
I bent low and picked up a shard of metal, twisting it between my fingertips. It was a clean break, not even scorched, but the lambent fire of the Sword hadn’t gone out despite its injuries.
It seemed to be lying in wait, reaching out to me with a faint voice. It wanted to be put together again.
I dropped it in my bag and picked up another piece as a rhyme from Old Earth echoed through my head; something about a broken egg and horses. It was on the tip of my tongue when I caught sight of what Tascius was doing, and all thoughts of it left my head.
“Don’t touch it!” I snapped, my muscles tightening in sudden fear as Tascius reached for a shard of the Sword.
For a moment everything went still, and every hair on my body stood straight up.
Then a sharp crack echoed through the Pit as a ribbon of pure light snapped out from the little fragment of metal, scorching Tascius’s fingertips and leaving them red.
He winced and shook out his hand. “Well, now we know.”
I was frozen in place. “You could’ve been incinerated, friend. This isn’t one of those things where you learn from the same mistake twice!”
He raised an eyebrow, a trace of a smile on his lips. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
My heart was pounding so fast I felt it against my rib cage, but honestly… who wouldn’t be curious? Just the fact that the Sword of Light could be shattered at all was almost unbelievable, so the possibility that it could be made to accept another person seemed plausible in itself.