Blessed Death

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Blessed Death Page 6

by Amy Sumida


  “If we get spotted, and you are with us, it could be playing into their hands,” Luke pointed out to Azrael for the fourth time. “I need you to stay safe here while we investigate.”

  “I have to stay behind but my wife gets to go?” Azrael whined.

  “Az,” I chided.

  “Your wife is one of our most powerful allies,” Luke said. “I want her with me.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a note of surprise.

  “Vervain, it's not my opinion; it's a fact,” Luke said simply. “The things you can do are impressive.”

  “You changed the future,” Holly said gently. “That's beyond impressive. And I'm glad you'll be there to watch my husband's back.”

  “And we'll be there to watch Vervain's back,” Odin said as he indicated Re and himself.

  “But if our luck holds, no one will have to watch anyone's back because we'll stay invisible,” Luke said. “This will be a simple information gathering jaunt into Heaven. No biggie.”

  “Luke, never say 'no biggie' after you've used the word 'luck,'” I whined as we headed for the tracing chamber. “That's just asking for trouble.”

  “Point taken.” Luke grimaced.

  “Say hi to the Seraphim for me,” Holly called after us.

  Luke transferred his grimace to his wife. “I just said we don't want to be noticed, Holly.”

  “I was teasing, Luke.” Holly kissed her husband goodbye. “Mostly.”

  “We'll have to go through Hell,” Luke said. “Everyone follow me.”

  “Or we could use Re's technique of texting a picture...” I trailed off as I saw their stares. “I don't want a picture of Hell on my phone, do I?”

  “It would probably corrupt your device,” Luke said.

  “Are you serious?” I huffed. “A mere picture?”

  “Some myths are strong enough to cast a wide net of influence.” Satan shrugged. “Holding hands is going to have to do this time.”

  So, we all held hands like a prayer circle and let the Devil take us to Hell. It was cold, as usual.

  Michael fluffed his wings and closed them around himself like a cloak. Re and I immediately turned up our internal temperatures, and Odin eased closer to us. Lucifer was perfectly comfortable, but then this was his territory.

  “That's a cool trick,” Cid said as he stepped over to meet us. He held his palms out to Re and me. “You two are like walking heaters.”

  “It comes in handy.” I gave Cid a hug. “How are you doing, Cid?”

  “Good, good.” He nodded. “I'd be better if some asshole angels weren't gunning for our boy.” He sneered at Michael.

  Hey, I'm here to help,” Mike said. “I'm walking through Hell to do it, so maybe give me a break, Cid.”

  Cid grimaced, glanced at Luke—who nodded—and then sighed. “All right, angel; you get one chance.”

  “We all had a difficult decision to make when we chose sides,” Mike said. “I won't apologize for my choice, and my status is going to come in handy right now. I'm the only one who can lead you through Heaven without causing a panic.”

  “Hey; I don't care what happened all those years ago,” I interrupted before a fight broke out. “What's important are the choices we make today. Now, let's all make some choices that are going to keep my husband alive, okay?”

  Cid, Luke, and Michael all nodded.

  “Yeah; you right,” Cid drawled. “Let's do this.”

  “Good; cause I'm getting tired of talking about Luke and Holly's affair when my husband's life is in danger,” I said.

  “Ease down, Godhunter; some grudges are hard to move past,” Cid huffed and then turned to Luke. “So, I assume we're taking the Bloody Volcano passage?”

  Luke had brought us through an entrance to Hell I'd never used before. Hell had a few entrances, but unfortunately, none of them allowed us to trace directly into Luke's home. It was, of course, a security measure. I suppose it was sensible to prevent gods from tracing straight into the Devil's house, but it made every visit to my in-laws exhausting and unsettling.

  We normally came through the gate in Shehaquim—Azrael's Heaven. When using that entrance, we have to walk a crushed bone path which led through the Ice Blocks—the icy, prison cells holding human souls, between the Mountains of Madness, and then to the domicile of the Devil. This time, however, we were off the beaten bone path entirely; standing amid some low, rolling hills that looked like the skeletal remains of a deep sea creature. Most of the landscape of Hell was comprised of bone, blood, and cartilage; with a burnt cinnabar sky looming above it all. On top of that, the dim light that filtered through the rusty clouds tinted the scenery with a glaze of dried blood.

  It was damn depressing.

  Once you got past the border of Luke's home, Hell turned into an Atlantean-inspired paradise. But out in the thick of it, as it were, it was cold, bleak, and peppered with screams. And the screams were nearly as chilling as the climate.

  “Yep; the Bloody Volcano,” Lucifer confirmed.

  “I don't want to know,” Odin murmured as we trudged after the hellions; our boots squishing in the blood-soaked sand.

  Sure enough, just beyond the skeletal hills, the auburn sand lifted into a conical shape, and the top of the mountain bubbled up with crimson liquid. It was erupting blood; channels of the stuff ran down the mountain in sluggish streams that were absorbed by the sandy soil of Hell. The coppery scent of the territory grew stronger as we approached.

  “This is why the sand is soaked with blood?” I asked as I gaped at the horrifying landform.

  “Yes,” Luke whispered as he stared along with me. “My territory is saturated with the blood of sinners. Where most land covers underground rivers of water, mine hides an endless flow of blood.”

  “By all that's holy,” Michael whispered. “It's no wonder you're so powerful. You have a steady stream of sacrifice.”

  “I'd ask how it was possible, but I've learned that 'impossible' is not a word that ever applies to god territories,” I said.

  “The blood was a necessity,” Luke explained sadly. “Ever since I was changed into an 'evil' god, there have been humans who believe that worshiping me will bring them power. I am the only god in my pantheon who continues to receive blood sacrifice.”

  “As horrible as that is,” Odin said, “I don't see why it would necessitate this.” He waved his hand out to the mountain.

  “You have received sacrifices, Allfather,” Luke pointed out. “What did the blood do to you?”

  “It...” Odin blinked in epiphany.

  “It makes us who we are,” Re answered for Odin. “And it would make you who you are, Luke. So, what am I missing?”

  “I was first made into this glorious form,” Luke said with a smile and a wave at himself. “Then I went to war with Jerry, and I took the fall. My image was altered, and I became Satan; the traitor and outcast. The Devil. I enjoy my status, and I don't regret anything that I've done, but if I were to accept the sacrifices of humans as they are offered—tainted by emotions like hatred, greed, and rage—then I would fully become the god they believe me to be.”

  “Fuck,” I whispered. “A real Satan.”

  “Yep,” Cid said. “And we like the boss as he is. No one wants him to actually be the Devil. Then who would make my souffles?”

  “Baking souffles is an art,” the Devil said with complete seriousness.

  “So, what does this mountain do exactly?” Re asked. “Filter the blood sacrifices?”

  “It's blood laundering,” Cid explained with a smirk. “Instead of the power going straight to Luke, it gets directed here.”

  “Where it's cleansed of the taint and distilled into pure magic,” Luke finished. “As with all magical things—especially our territories—imagery is very important. The blood magic streamed into my territory, and when I altered its course through the land, it reverted to its original form. Technically, it's a physical symbol of the purifying spell that is constantly at work.”

&n
bsp; “It's a symbolic mountain of blood?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “A symbolic blood volcano,” Cid corrected.

  “And it hides a passage to Heaven,” Luke added with a smirk.

  “You're one twisted mother fucker,” Re said with a tone of admiration.

  “Thank you,” Luke said proudly. “Though you may not be so impressed when you see where the entrance is.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Don't fall in,” Luke said as we started our descent through the core of the blood volcano.

  We weren't in the crater, but Luke had taken us inside the mountain; into its stone foundation. We walked through a tunnel with a river of blood flowing down one side of it; a vein feeding the volcano.

  “What would happen if I did?” I asked out of plain curiosity.

  “You would absorb the evil meant for me,” Luke said with deadly sincerity. “And we cannot have an evil Trinity-Star. That would be even worse than an evil Lucifer.”

  Odin shifted so that he walked between the river and me.

  “Oh,” I said softly.

  “I can feel the animosity pulsing off it,” Re said with shock.

  “The Human Race is in a bad place right now,” Satan said sadly. “There is a lot of hate and even more desperation. Quite a few people have turned to me in their despair.”

  “Do they get what they're after?” I asked.

  “No; not due to any intervention on my part, at least,” Luke said. “I don't want nor need to encourage them.”

  “How ironic and truly pathetic,” I murmured. “They blacken their souls by sacrificing to you, and then get nothing out of it.”

  “You'd think that word of their failure would spread, and they'd learn”— Luke side-stepped a human skull—“but they never do. Evil hope springs eternal.”

  “And Luke gets blamed for every nasty thing humans do,” Cid said merrily. “Those who sacrifice to him sometimes do prosper, and they give Luke the credit. His infamy spreads without him lifting a finger.”

  “And that makes you happy?” I asked in surprise.

  “Luke shares his power with us,” Cid said. “Of course it makes me happy. I've learned to just accept the way things are and look on the bright side.”

  “An optimistic demon.” Odin chuckled.

  “A lot of us are happy and very grateful that we followed Lucifer out of Heaven,” Cid said. “You guys know that.”

  “I'm happy that you sided with me as well.” Luke pounded Cid's back in a brotherly manner.

  Michael looked away.

  I felt bad for him. After hearing Mike defend his decision to side with Jerry, I had begun to see things differently. I knew I had been influenced by my relationship with Azrael and my personal interactions with Luke and Holly. I knew they were good people, and I believed them when they spoke of Jerry's bad behavior. But Michael also had a valid point; no matter how neglectful Jerry had been, Holly should not have cheated on him. If she had left him in the beginning, perhaps there never would have been a war in Heaven. Or perhaps it would have been so cataclysmic that it would have seeped into the Human Realm and affected the history of Earth. One thing I had learned through Alaric and Faerie was that some traumatic events are meant to happen; they produce results that progress the path of all races. Without the war in Heaven, Lucifer would not have created Hell. He would not have raised his son to be the Angel of Death, and I would not have been carried to the Viking Well by my reaper husband. Everything was connected; each life affecting many others.

  My star flared within my chest, and a sense of peace seeped through me. Things were as they were meant to be.

  I focused back on Luke without judgment. He had put his white wings away for the mission, and it made him nearly identical to Azrael—which made me subconsciously more sympathetic to him. Cid had his human body on; a swarthy man with dark hair and green eyes. It was better than his demon form, but it couldn't compete with the Morningstar looks. Standing together as they were, Cid made Lucifer seem even more beautiful by comparison. I wondered if that was what it was like when others saw me standing beside my husbands. Was I Cid to their Luke?

  “Vervain?” Odin asked in concern.

  “I'm fine,” I said with a smile. “Just thinking.”

  “Well, focus that intellect,” Luke said as he stepped up to a small, wooden door set flush into the stone wall of the volcano. “We're about to step into the Seventh Heaven.”

  “It's time to disappear,” Cid said and then went invisible.

  We all did the same—except for Mike—and then the Devil opened a door into Heaven. We stepped out of Hell, into an immaculately clean alley. The surrounding buildings were so white, they glowed, and the ground was paved with gold. The light was nearly blinding after the dim atmosphere of Hell. Heaven's sky was pale blue and full of fluffy clouds and singing angels. Not a single angel even paused when we emerged; they didn't notice the door into Hell, or how it faded into the wall after Mike shut it.

  “Everyone follow Michael,” Luke said. “If you get separated and lost, hold your position until we circle back for you.”

  “Got it,” Re said.

  “Where are we heading first, Boss?” Cid asked.

  “The Throne, of course,” Luke said.

  “Does Jerry just sit there all day?” I asked in surprise.

  “The myths compel Jerry to be near the Throne of Heaven,” Mike said. “So, he had to build his house behind it. 'The Throne' is a term that's come to mean the entire upper level of Heaven; everything at the top of the sacred steps and beyond.”

  “So, we will pass the Seraphim,” I noted.

  The War in Heaven caused a lot of strife among the angels, but the Seraphim weren't able to take a side. Their magic compelled them to stay with the Throne. That being said; they were neither on Jerry or Luke's side. The Seraphim were one-hundred percent Team Holly. In fact, most of the angels adored Holly despite the War that was essentially waged on her behalf. But, where the other angels were free to choose a side, the Seraphim were not, and had to make their loyalty clear in other ways. Myths controlled a lot of what gods could do, and the myth of the Seraphim was that they flew around the Throne of God singing “Holy, holy, holy,” all day. The Seraphim did their job; flying and singing, but they found the tiniest weak spot in the myth and were able to alter 'Holy' to 'Holly.' Basically, they taunted Jerry with Holly's name constantly.

  “We will,” Luke confirmed. “But we can't pass on my wife's greeting.”

  “Why not?” Cid asked as we slipped out of the alley and down the golden streets of Heaven. “It's not as if they could sound an alarm; even if they wanted to.”

  Lucifer chuckled. “I suppose you're right.”

  “I can deliver the message,” Mike offered.

  “I'd prefer to give it myself,” Luke said. “If I get the opportunity, I'll take it.”

  I glanced up and saw the Orphanim; a type of angel that had the physical form of a wheel. Yes; a wheel. These angels had human bodies they could transform into when they were off duty, but when they flew through Heaven's sky—yes; they are flying wheels—they had the appearance of brightly colored wheels spinning within outer wheels; a double wheel, if you will. Because angelic wheels had to be special. I smiled as I caught sight of Machatan; he was the most rebellious of the Orphanim and took the form of a motorcycle's wheel. In particular, a Harley tire with its rim serving as the inner wheel.

  Angels strode by us; nodding—and sometimes bowing—to Michael as they passed. With Mike taking the lead, the walk was easy and uneventful; he was kinda a big deal in Heaven. We reached our destination without any issues at all, and no one was at all suspicious of the Archangel Michael visiting the glorious Throne of God.

  Jerry was not seated in his shiny seat, nor was he on the holy dais at all. We crossed over the glass panel that gave a view into the Guf—the Treasury of Souls beneath the Throne which was fed by the Void—and I forced myself not to look at the swirling, ghost-like
souls beneath the glass. Instead, I followed Satan to the golden gate behind the throne.

  “Lucifer,” Mike whispered as he extended his wings, “if you wish to speak with the Seraphim, now would be a good time.”

  Luke became visible; standing behind the cover of Michael's wings. His stare was focused upward; over Jerry's golden, towering throne. I followed Luke's gaze to see the Seraphim quietly floating about; taking a little break since Jerry wasn't present to hear their taunts.

  “Hey, guys!” Michael called out to the Seraphim.

  The Seraphim froze, spotted Michael, and then Satan, and descended to the dais excitedly.

  “Luke!” They cried; ignoring Mike completely. “How are ya? How's our lady?”

  “I'm well,” Luke said convivially. “I'm doing a little investigation concerning my son, but Holly specifically asked me to say hi to you for her.”

  “She's the sweetest,” one of them said and sighed. “You're here about that attack on Azrael?”

  “That's right.” Luke narrowed his gaze on them. “You know anything about it?”

  “Nothing beyond what's been told to us,” a Seraphim said. “But I doubt Jerry's behind it; he's too much of a coward to make that kind of move.”

  “But if we see something, we'll send word to you,” another Seraphim offered.

  “Thank you,” Luke said sincerely.

  “God speed, Satan,” one of the angels said with a snarky chuckle.

  “I'll stay behind and talk to the Seraphim,” Mike said. “It'll give me a good reason for being here. The rest of you go on into the Throne.”

  “Sounds good,” Luke said as he strode over to the gates.

  “Won't they be warded?” I whispered the question.

  “Not against me,” the Devil said smugly.

  Sure enough, the golden gates opened to the hand of their creator. Luke went invisible again, and we all clasped hands so we could stay together once we were inside. We crept into a vaulted hallway of polished wood walls, wooden arches, and porcelain tiles on the floor. I blinked around me in shock. I had expected Jerry's home to be like the rest of Heaven; gold, white, and blinding. Instead, it was homey. There were a few pieces of artwork on the walls with soft lighting overhead. It had the feeling of a human home; a wealthy human's home, but human nonetheless.

 

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