by Jan Kopia
He remembered her third birthday. Carrie had been working so Patrick had planned a full day for Tess and himself. He had baked a cake for her: it had come out uneven on one side, too sweet and too dense, but Tess had danced around and proclaimed it the best, most delicious cake in the world.
He remembered sitting through her dance recitals with pride, watching her swim with fear, watching her cry with pain. He had seen her through all those moments of her life and he had never wanted to be anywhere else. Tess was the great love of his life and she always would be.
Tess, Patrick thought.
He'd expected to feel some kind of pull, some indication that Tess was close and that she'd heard him. But there was nothing.
“I can’t feel her,” Patrick sighed. “I’ve tried. Imara… why can’t I feel my daughter?”
Imara looked concerned, and that worried Patrick even more. “Is it possible… is it possible that she’s died on Earth in the time I’ve been here?” he asked.
Imara frowned. “No… I don’t think so.”
“What happens if a soul has moved on past The Hades?” Patrick asked. “Can you still find them?”
“You can,” Imara nodded. “It might take longer, but you will still be able to find them. It’s just a matter of understanding where in the universe that soul has travelled and taking that path as well. Either way, whether Tess is in The Hades or not, you should be able to sense her.”
Patrick wanted to scream. Where was his daughter?
Chapter Eighteen
Antonia wanted to turn and run, but she knew that wherever she went, Lucifer would find her. How had she not seen it before? How had she been so blind? Antonia could hear Diane’s voice in her head, telling her to open her third eye or she would miss the universe’s great secrets.
How had she been so foolish as to believe that science was the answer to everything? She tried to stand but she felt something weighing her down.
“Your soul is in shock,” Lucifer said calmly. “Give yourself a moment.”
“I trusted you,” Antonia sobbed.
“But you shouldn’t have,” Lucifer replied calmly. “Deep down, you knew what I was. You just would not listen. You humans cling to your manmade beliefs with such faith that you fail to see the universal truths. Do you know how I felt, the first time I set foot on Earth? I felt sad. I was sad because I could sense the great power that humans possessed and yet you denied your power in favor of logic and reason. Such hubris. You and your kind have made yourselves weak. That is why this is happening.”
“I don’t. I don’t understand what’s happening,” Antonia choked on her words. “Why… why did you kill me? What difference will my death make?”
Lucifer looked at her with beautiful bright eyes. “Your death makes all the difference. I can ride any soul into The Hades… but then what? I would be trapped in The Hades. The only thing with the power to let me move between worlds — all the worlds — is the key I made from of the wood of the World Tree.”
Antonia remembered the story well. She hadn't been able to get it out of her head since Diane had told it to Patrick and her. She'd believed at the time that it was all fairytale and legend. But now the truth stared her in the face, and Antonia felt as though she were on her knees, cowed by its scope, its horror, its certainty.
“You didn’t make the key yourself,” Antonia said. “Cronus helped you.”
Lucifer raised her arched eyebrows and smiled. “Is that what the human seer told you?” she asked. “Cronus controlled the stories that were imparted to man. Of course he would take credit. I made that key. His power forged it, but it was my idea and my knowledge that brought forth that key. It is mine. The only reason he was allowed to seize it from me was because he was more powerful. And fool that I was, I trusted him. It was my first great lesson. Trust no one — especially those that come to you with sweet smiles and honeyed words.”
Antonia shook her head and smiled with some small measure of satisfaction. “I don’t have the key,” she said. “You’ve killed the wrong person.”
Lucifer threw back her head and laughed. The sound of her laughter was like the tinkling of a bell, but it still made Antonia’s skin crawl.
“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” Lucifer asked conversationally. “I was a fool once, but no more. Patrick has the Olympus key, and he is here in The Hades as we speak.”
Antonia felt herself grow cold. She knew the truth of Lucifer’s words as she said them. It was like her sixth sense was finally working — when it was much too late.
“He’s not—"
“You lie,” Lucifer interrupted impatiently. “He came here with my key to find his daughter. And I came here with you to find him.”
“What do you want me to do?” Antonia demanded.
“Call for him. He will hear you.”
Antonia frowned. “I don’t understand—"
“You spoke about Patrick a lot,” Lucifer reminded her. “You told me things about your relationship. You made me see how much you still care for Patrick. You see, this only works if you love him and he loves you. I could use no one but you. Now… call for him.”
“So you can steal the key and kill him?” Antonia demanded. “No.”
“No?” Lucifer looked at Antonia with a certain measure of amusement. “You think you can simply refuse me?”
“What more can you do to me now?” Antonia asked. “I’m dead. You killed me. You’ve taken everything from me.”
A flash of sympathy flew across Lucifer’s face. She shook her head. “Humans,” she said. “You set so much score on your mortal lives, your physical bodies, your personal possessions, your looks, your money … you have always failed to see what it truly important.”
“You are not dead,” Lucifer continued. “You are here, you are conscious and present and aware. Your thoughts are your own and so are your feelings. Your physical body is gone, but it was only ever a shell to begin with. You will go on… and on and on and on. Eternity is a very long time, Antonia. And I can make your eternity a nightmare. Now… call to him.”
Antonia felt her determination weaken in Lucifer’s presence. But how could she claim to care for Patrick or his daughter and deliver them straight to the demon herself?
Antonia took a deep breath and sighed. “Do your worst,” she said.
Lucifer actually looked disappointed for a moment. “Humans,” Lucifer muttered, under her breath.
Antonia saw the red flame in Lucifer’s eyes grow bright, and fear burst cold and bitter in her throat. She turned and tried to run but long, black tentacles reached out and grabbed her, holding her in place.
Lucifer appeared from the left and approached Antonia slowly. “You are brave,” she said, with a thin hint of admiration in her tone. “I like you, Antonia. I liked you from the moment I met you. But I learnt early on that love and loyalty are only weaknesses. Are you really going to subject yourself to an eternity of torture, for one man and his child?”
“I don’t know,” Antonia said, her voice weak with dread. “I want to be brave but I don’t know if I will last. But I want to try. I have to at least try.”
Lucifer smiled. “Humans hate pain,” she said, as though she were a professor addressing a student. “They cringe from it. They will do anything to avoid it. But there are worse forms of torture. Shall I tell you of one?”
Antonia stayed silent. Words would not save her now. Antonia felt herself being pulled up, forced to look upon that beautiful dreadful face that held the promise of doom.
“Do you know what it feels like to be alive but cut off from life?” Lucifer asked. “Do you know what is feels like to have eyes that you cannot see with, ears you cannot hear with, a mouth you cannot speak with? Your mind is awake, your soul is awake… but your senses are cut off. You exist in a state of complete blackness. Frozen forever; robbed of sight, sound, speech and hearing.”
Antonia felt sobs at the back of her throat. She wanted to cry. No… she wanted to
die. She would rather have ceased to exist altogether rather than exist in the state that Lucifer had just promised her.
“I suppose you have made your choice,” Lucifer said congenially.
The last thing that Antonia saw before she lost her sight were the distant planes of dappled grey mountains that looked as though they had been painted. She was glad of that. She didn’t want the last image in her mind to be one of Lucifer.
“Goodbye, Antonia,” Lucifer said softly.
That voice was the last sound she heard before she lost her hearing. To be blind was stark, shocking and unbearably lonely; to be unable to hear made Antonia feel even more vulnerable, even more lost. After only a short time of that aching helplessness, she felt panic start to grow and grow until she could not contain it any longer.
Antonia opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She had lost the ability to speak as well. Antonia tried to move, but she had no sense of herself. She was nothing at all… a black void with nowhere to go and no one by her side. How could she go on like this?
Antonia tried to remind herself why she was doing this. This was for Patrick and for the daughter he had sacrificed everything for. She had loved Patrick once, and she still cared for him deeply. If that were really true, then shouldn’t she be able to do this for him? Antonia tried counting minutes, but she abandoned that after getting to seven. What was the point in counting into infinity? It would be a different form of self inflicted torture. There was no countdown; she would never be free, no matter how long she kept counting.
After a while, Antonia lost all sense of time. She couldn't say how long she had been trapped, but it was long enough that she stopped trying to justify her reasons for accepting this punishment. She cared for Patrick, she wanted him to find his daughter, but she could not bear this torture any longer.
Time stretched on and on, and Antonia started to feel her mind spin wildly. She must have been like this for weeks, no, months. She tried to brace herself against madness but she could feel it slipping into the corners of her mind. Months turned into years, and still Antonia had no way out. She tried to speak, to hear, and to see… but she was hit with darkness from all sides. Except this wasn't the kind of darkness you could ever get used to. There were no shadows and no silhouettes, just a gaping hole where color and shape should have been.
The regret came in waves that burst like explosions. It gripped her being and sent her into shivers and shakes that she could barely comprehend. She couldn't scream because she had no voice, and she could not run because she had no legs. She just lay there, praying it would end. Antonia felt as though she had endured decades, possibly even centuries. She could never die; her soul was immortal. She began to dream of death as one would dream of a loved one. She began to pray for it. And when her prayers fell on ears as deaf as hers … Antonia began to wish for something else.
“Please,” Antonia screamed in her head. “Please… I’ll do anything. Just let me go.”
She had no words, but she hoped against hope that Lucifer would hear her. And, amazingly, her wish was granted. Antonia felt as though the chains that bound her in place all this time suddenly released. She collapsed to the sandy ground in a sobbing mess, and all at once she realized she was whole again. She could see, she could hear and she could speak.
Antonia felt such an immense feeling of relief that when she saw Lucifer standing above her with those glowing red eyes, she wasn’t even scared. She was happy.
“How did that feel, Antonia?” Lucifer asked.
“Words can’t… I can’t describe it,” Antonia stammered. “Don’t make me… I don’t ever want to…”
“It hurt, didn’t it?” Lucifer asked smugly. “Worse than pain ever could?”
“Yes,” Antonia nodded, looking down.
“Do you want to know how long you were like that?” Lucifer asked.
“No—"
“I’ll tell you anyway,” she said. “But first, you tell me. How long do you think you were under?”
Antonia turned her eyes to the sun. She didn’t ever want to close them again. “Two hundred years,” she replied. “Maybe longer?”
Lucifer threw her head back and laughed. She laughed loudly and freely and Antonia noticed leaves flit away in the wind from the trees behind her. Hadn’t there been mountains behind her? Was it possible she had been moved? Or had the landscape changed so drastically in the time she'd been under?
“Two hundred years,” Lucifer repeated, with mirth. “How wonderful…”
The sand felt so warm and lovely beneath Antonia. As soft as grass, and much more fragrant.
“You were under for six hours, six minutes and six seconds,” Lucifer said.
Antonia shook her head. “No.”
“Yes,” Lucifer nodded. “Why would I lie to you?”
“It can’t be,” Antonia said. “I was there. It was a long time…an eternity.”
“I am sure it must have felt that way to you. But I wonder, if six hours can feel like two hundred years to you, what do you think eternity would feel like?”
“I’ll call for him,” Antonia said.
“What was that?” Lucifer asked, raising her eyebrows in a show of pretense.
“I’ll call for him,” Antonia said again, this time a little louder.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across Lucifer’s face. “You see?” she said. “Sooner or later… I always get what I want.”
Chapter Nineteen
“What's that?” gasped Patrick, turning on the spot.
“What is it?” Imara asked.
“I can hear something,” he said. “I think someone is calling out for me.”
“Tess,” Imara said hopefully.
“No,” Patrick said. “Not Tess. I would know if it was her.”
Imara frowned. “Patrick,” she said, and her tone was suddenly cautious. “Be careful.”
“Someone needs me,” he said. “I can feel it. It’s like someone is tugging at me, trying to get my attention. What does that mean?”
Imara looked worried. “It means someone is calling for you, the same way you were trying to call for Tess.”
Patrick paused. “Someone I know has died,” he said, as the realization hit him hard. “How do I answer?"
Before he could finish his question, he heard the voice as clear as day. It was like she was sitting next to him, whispering words into his ear.
“Antonia.”
Patrick felt a pull and suddenly felt himself travel somewhere. It was like he'd fallen a short distance, but he felt no fear. When his feet were fixed firmly on the ground, Patrick looked around and saw that Imara was right by his side. She had made the journey with him, though she looked like she wished she could be anywhere else. All Patrick could see was mist.
“What is it?” Patrick asked, unable to decipher her expression. “Why do you look like—"
“We shouldn’t have come,” Imara said, cutting him off. There was urgency in her tone, bordering on panic. “Come—"
"Dear one," said a smooth, silky voice. “It has been so long since we last saw each other. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?”
Patrick saw Imara’s eyes flood with fear, and he turned in the direction of the voice. A beautiful woman stood before him. Someone he recognized without knowing why he recognized her.
“Patrick,” said the woman, moving closer with exaggerated slowness. “I have wanted to meet you for a very long time.”
“Who are you?”.
She turned her gaze to Imara. “Why don’t you make the introductions?”
“You killed an innocent simply to get here?” asked Imara.
“It was the only way into The Hades,” said the woman unapologetically. “It needed to be done.”
“You truly are a fallen angel,” Imara said, and disgust flitted across her face.
Patrick looked at the woman again. He saw the statuesque body of a beautiful woman, with the tinge of scarlet in her eyes. “Lucifer,” he breat
hed.
Lucifer slowly clapped her hands together. “Well done.”
“You were the one that called for me?” Patrick asked, in confusion. “But… I thought I heard Antonia.”
“Oh, you did,” Lucifer nodded, as she clicked her fingers together. Patrick saw the mist clear to reveal a massive and beautiful tree with leaves of silver, gold and bronze. Antonia was bound to the tree, and Patrick could see that she was crying.
“Antonia,” Patrick said, rushing forward.
Lucifer held out her hand and even though she didn’t even touch Patrick, he was forced to stop in his tracks. He watched Antonia helplessly.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me,” Lucifer said. She narrowed her eyes at Patrick.
Patrick felt the key in his hand. It felt like it was throbbing, as though it had a life of its own. “It doesn’t belong to you,” he said, trying to keep his voice as strong as possible.
Lucifer’s face was expressionless. She betrayed nothing and yet… Patrick knew she was angry. He could sense the fury waft off her. It was more than just fury though… it was impatience, and frustration, and centuries of waiting that was culminating now in this one moment.
“Hand it over,” she hissed.
Patrick couldn’t understand why she just didn’t take the key from him. She was obviously incredibly powerful. She had no qualms about killing. So why was she just standing there, demanding that he hand over the key?
“She can’t take it from you,” Imara said, without taking her eyes off Lucifer. “Not by force. It’s the reason she had to resort to going through Antonia. Otherwise she could have just found and killed you and taken the key. The key has protected itself from her for these many eons.”
“Protected itself?” Lucifer snapped. “No, it was hidden from me. It was hidden by Gabriel, the angel of all angels, the bane of my existence; the brother who condemned me to death.”