Highway to Hell

by Lydia Anne Stevens

  My friends all came to slowly. I was left sitting there with my epic case of shock and dismay, and when questioned, I hated having to be so evasive about it all. I let them know the spell worked and when we summoned Lucifer, he gave us a free pass on account of the massive info dump he put me through. I didn't tell them about the major revelations he bestowed upon me, just, we chatted, and he left after giving me the pages.

  "What do you mean he just handed them over?" Damien demanded.

  I knew this was going to be hard. I didn't realize having to withhold most of the truth put me on a level with the liars and thieves I’d been so quick to condemn. I watch Zeke as he pulls himself into his chair and clutches his head. Am I so far off? Is withholding information about the truth in a way lying about it? According to Lucifer, it's all subjective, which is what the issue is.

  "We had coffee, he gave me some reading material, and here we are.” I tap the papers on the table sitting in between the two coffee cups.

  "It's not that simple. It's never that simple with my father.” He begins pacing.

  "Of course it isn't, but just trust me on this one. I have a feeling we still have to answer to the rest of your uncles for evading, so we better hurry. But why is your name written on the bottom of the page here?" I point to it again and he, James, and Dante crowd in.

  "I don't know.” He tosses his hands up. His eyes are a murky brown like he’s conveying the message, “This is total bullshit.”

  "Look at the letters written there.” Fae also looks at the papers from the far side of the table.

  I squint, not seeing what she is pointing at. They are listed just above the strange saying. I flip to the second page and try to read it, but it's in a language I don't understand. I hold it out to Damien and Dante, but they both shake their heads, so I turn back to the first page. The material is delicate and I'm afraid if we handle it too much, they will begin to break down. Satyrs are tough, having to torture people day after day, but never being contained under the strap themselves, they haven't developed very tough hides when they're used for the mundane tasks, like being filleted and having their skin stretched out to make manuscript pages out of.

  “It’s an anagram," Fae says after a minute. I look at the list of letters, but I still don't see it.

  "Fae, care to share with the class?"

  Fae gives me the “why am I trying to reason with stupid” look and I give it right back to her. We don't have time to waste here. We still need to figure out how to switch the marks and get out of dodge until the vengeance from Damien's uncles calms down a bit. From what I can gather, it hasn't been Satan coming after us directly, and I express this to Damien, although I hate not telling everyone why. I wish I could just have five minutes alone with him. Ok, maybe ten to explain it all, but the likelihood of that happening is a whole lot of none.

  "It's all the letters all jumbled up. The anagram makes the saying and the letters all come from the calligraphy Devil's marked letters in the Devil's Bible.”

  I read the letters again out loud. “ORAMMUBEONOLMAMAONDIFIIS.” We all move the letters around on the page, matching and accounting for each one as we go through the list. Sure enough, it's all the red letters from the illuminated manuscript, and they all fit the anagram written on the bottom of the page.

  "Ok, but what does it mean?" James asks. “I haven't seen some of these names before, in any language.”

  "It's a demonic language," Damien says quietly.

  I can see now where he gets his features from. In a sense. Lucifer presented the black face to me today, and although Damien is white, neither one of them are comprised of something so simple as a singular form.

  "What does it mean?" I ask again.

  "Everyone out.” Damien nods his head to the door. No one moves. “I said out. Get out.” Damien picks up the papers, folding them and putting them in his pocket.

  "Damien--" I reach for his hand, which has disappeared into his pocket, but he shakes my hand away.

  "Everyone except you, Catriona.” No one moves a muscle and then Damien turns on them, snarling.

  "Get out now!"

  Tora is the first to jump, followed by Phil. I figure she needs an out, and the kid has seen and heard so much crap lately, disobeying Damien's orders isn't high on his list of priorities. The others filter out slowly. Charles leads Zeke by the arm. My girls are less anxious to leave me alone with Damien, but I give them a nod and they reluctantly leave. Even Marty slinks out of the room. Lowell is the last to hesitate and he looks like he is about to argue. I can't blame the guy, it's his life on the line, but James nudges his shoulder.

  “Come on.”

  When the door closes, Damien sighs and sits down, tapping the rim of his father's coffee cup.

  "Are you going to tell me what it means?"

  "You haven't figured it out?"

  I sit, too exhausted for more mind games. “Damien, please. The English is pretty straightforward, what does Ou Momi and Almi mean?"

  "Ou means a South African chap and Momi means the God of Ridicule.”

  I get the origins of his heritage now. “And Almi?"

  "Almi means a woman who feeds one's soul or lifts the spirit.”

  I think about this. “Ok, everyone knows the rumor your mother was a fallen angel. I don't understand the significance of everything? Why the big secret?"

  Before Damien can answer, a voice speaks from the shadows in the corner of the room. “It’s significant, child, because when my son was listening to the conversation between you and his father, he figured out he's been sent to help his father save the world, not destroy him in the process.”

  I whip around and Auntie J walks out of the shadows.

  "Auntie J?" I jump out of my seat. What the heck is going on? Is she the woman Lucifer said thought I was strong enough? Why is it, this place only provokes more questions than it gives answers?

  "Yes.” She walks over and sits down across from both of us. Her eyes are dark and restless as she looks over Damien. “I’ve been worried about you. It took you long enough to come home, son.”

  Damien nods and my head is doing the swivel routine.

  "Will someone explain to me what is going on?"

  Auntie J smiles and squeezes my hand. “And look at you, all grown up and taking charge.”

  "Auntie J, I texted you. I called. I--"

  "Had to learn a few truths for yourself before I have been allowed to step in.”

  The bracelets on her wrists jingle and I watch them, mesmerized as my brain tries to put the facts together. Is it possible a Gorgon demon is more than just a woman of mysteries and wisdom?

  "Think about what you've figured out about Damien, Trina.” I consider her words. She means he is a duality so complex, he has to balance light and dark.

  "He balances to good and the evil. He--"

  "He's the instrument that can help stop the apocalypse.” Auntie J squeezes Damien's hand and he smiles, but there is a bitterness in his eyes I still don't get.

  "I don't get it.” I slump on my forearm, defeated. Some people go through life thinking about how they are going to make ends meet or what casserole to bring to the next potluck supper and I'm stuck helping good versus evil find a balance when the big day comes. Whenever that is. I remember my mantra, the one Lucifer seems so keen to keep reminding me of, and I think back to Lowell and Zeke. “Oh my God!" I jump up and Auntie J starts laughing.

  "Well, yes. He has something to do with it way back in the day.”

  "He's--" I point to Damien. “He’s the one who can switch the marks!"

  Damien taps his fingers on the table. Did he know? Has he known all along and this is all some sort of ruse to bring me into the fold to coerce my cooperation for the apocalypse someday? I glance suspiciously between the two of them.

  "Sit down, Catriona. There's still much to explain and no, he didn't know.”

  I sit on the edge of my seat and peer under the table. Where Lucifer was wearing loafers, Aunt
ie J is rocking a pair of strappy sandals. The two shoes dropping couldn't be more different.

  "Back in the day when I met his daddy, I was just a woman,” Auntie J begins. She pulls the second piece of the illuminated manuscript pages out. The one I haven't been able to decipher. She then pulls a third piece of parchment from her pocket and places it on the table next to the script. It's another folio, one of the missing pages, only this one is of a garden.

  "No way.” I'm shaking my head.

  "Yes, Eden was a beautiful place. I couldn't have been happier. I shouldn't have been happier. That was until Damien's daddy came along and showed me how much more to the world there was.” Auntie J smooths her manicured fingers over the folio of the Garden.

  "J stands for Jezebel, which loosely means, ‘where is the prince?’ In other words, Satan, the prince of Hell,” Damien explains.

  I'm having another moment of what in the seven sins is going on as the pieces start to click into place.

  "Like, Lucifer said, a little persuasion can go a long way. When I was first rejected and condemned by Lucifer's father, the book was re-written. I was the first ‘Jezebel’ so to speak,” Auntie J continues to explain.

  "You're telling me you are Eve?" I stare at her, trying to see some mirage or hologram like she's going to flicker and change, but she remains as solid and solemn as ever.

  "Yes. I go by many names, child. Jezebel, Eve, Alma…"

  I shake my head. This is unreal. “So you took a bite out of the apple, the wisdom fruit, got your in-the-know on, got punished and sent to live here as a Gorgon, a demon of wisdom, all because you and Lucifer ticked off his dad?"

  "You certainly have a way of boiling things down to their most primitive meaning, but yes. That is what I am telling you.”

  I study the folio on the table. It's archaic, but I feel like I can see the animosity between Eve, Auntie J, whoever, and Adam. It's interesting how perceptions can change so easily.

  "What happened to him?" It's a personal question, but I suppose it's only fair I get the whole story if they're dragging me into their family feud.

  "Ah, Adam. The deal was Lucifer and I couldn't be together until after I fulfilled my promise to Adam. Marriage, that is. Damien was cast out of the house immediately, and Adam and I went on to have more children, Cain and Abel, as I'm sure you are aware. Lucifer filled you in on Cain's whereabouts and I'm sure you can guess where Abel is residing.”

  "You're telling me the apocalypse has kicked off because you all need family counseling?" I cross my arms over my chest and glare at them. They have family troubles, fine. But why do I have to be dragged into it?

  "No. The apocalypse kicked off over something much smaller and innocuous, child. I'm telling you all this so you have an understanding of how grossly misrepresented women are in terms of ancient literature. Have you never wondered why my story wasn't told after the incident in the garden? Nothing is ever mentioned of the deal made on behalf of saving Damien's life. I agreed to resign myself to an eternity down here, never seeing my garden again. Never finding eternal rest if it meant Damien would be spared.”

  "You were a symbol of purity and your adultery tainted it. I can only imagine the wrath you must have endured,” I murmur. I watch Damien's face and he is giving no inclination as to what he might be feeling about all of these revelations. I don't blame Auntie J. Her bed and all, she has to lie in it. I imagine she beats herself up enough for her sins. Much the same way I do? But because we as women sin, does it mean there is some sort of scale determining the severity of the crime? Is there a balance? I've never claimed to be a feminist, but her punishment seems kind of harsh. Although, I guess I'm not the one to judge either. I think the point Lucifer has been trying to make is Heaven and Hell work on a case by case basis, the problem is, they are both inundated with thousands of cases every day.

  "Eternity of being imprisoned is a long time. He took the one thing from me Lucifer was trying to offer. Freedom. I can come and go as I please anywhere here in the Underworld, but I am never free to return up above, not even to the human realm.” Auntie J's eyes are wet.

  I get why she has been so lenient on me. There has been a soft spot in her for the thing I have craved the most since I came here.

  "At least you have Lucifer and Damien.” I have to say something on account of love. What Zeke and I had may never be classified as love, but I hardly think it is fair for Auntie J, Eve, to have been punished so severely for loving, the very thing that Himself up above works so hard to promote. I get it though. She went about cultivating that love in the wrong way and now she has to pay.

  "This is true.” She nods her head. “Which is why I'm so keen on you helping my Damien.”

  "Because he's the light and the dark. He can help fix the areas too caught up in the middle.”

  "Exactly.” Auntie J rises from her chair and walks back to the shadows.

  I digest everything she has just told me and I'm about to turn around and ask her how I can possibly help, but like the memories of humans, she is gone into the recesses of the shadows.

  "She got a bad rap," I say softly to Damien. He folds his hands and puts his elbows on the table.

  "You're so quick to forgive her. What about Adam?"

  I sigh. “I’m not saying what she did wasn't wrong. But think about it. For so long what has the joke been? If Eve hadn't eaten the apple. I'm just saying. I get she wanted the freedom of knowledge. And now she has to pay her penance, I also get the punishment fits the crime. Now all the family’s secrets are out, supposedly, tell me. Did you know?"

  Damien looks out over the top of his hands and he's already shaking his head. “I suspected, but they never confirmed it. Now I understand why. They waited until the opportune moment to tell me everything. I always knew my particular talents were vastly different than anything Lucifer has created before, but I didn't know how he did it. It's not something he conjured up with the supernatural, it's something he created with my mother.”

  I look at the fruit and the trees on the folio Auntie J left behind. I wonder who scribed these particular pages? And then it hits me.

  "Dante!" I rise from my chair and cross the room, pulling open the door. Everyone outside is shivering, but I ignore their discomfort. Knowing the number of lies told to cover up the truth is enough to drive a girl bonkers.

  "He said he had to go back,” Phil's teeth are chattering.

  I nod and turn back to Damien. "Your dad picked him. In exchange for covering up the truth in the Codex Gigas, he gave him a personal tour of Hell so Dante would see the truth himself.”

  "It can't be. He--"

  "Think about it, Damien. Dante was born in 1265. The Codex Gigas was also written in the early 13th century according to dating, but the dates are subjective, aren't they?"

  "Ok, I'll buy the theory, but say he was the scribe for my father. Why did he decide to wait over 1300 years to write it all down?"

  "Any number of reasons. The written word wasn't widespread until then. The crusades? Maybe he thought the real truth would get out. Look, it doesn't matter. What matters is we have all the bits and pieces, Damien. You know this. You also know the reason I started this sojourn in the first place. Are you going to help me or not? I agreed to rule Hell with you and here we are being given free rein of it to fix the mess your parents made centuries ago.”

  Damien rises from the chair as the rest of our party looks at us in utter confusion. “I don't know how to switch the marks, Catriona.”

  "Yes, you do. Think about it. You did it for Marty in a sense.” I point to the Hound whose outline has solidified even more. Pretty soon he might even be able to shift back to a man.

  The look on Damien's face suggests he is nervous, which is off-putting. “Trina, I only tried it on a dead man's soul and look what happened to him.”

  Damien points to Marty, but I refuse to look too closely at the gelatinous substance which still clings to him in places. I get if he tries to switch the marks and he botc
hes it, we could end up with two twin puddles of soup, but Lucifer and Auntie J handed us the answers. It sucks not being able to tell anyone else what the answers are, but I get it's for their own good.

  "You have to try. Please, Damien. One at a time.” I hold the door open and beckon everyone inside. I get the hairy eyeball from everyone, even Phil who looks run down. There's got to be something we can do for the poor kid. I wonder if I'll start looking at everyone, I am around like this. Like I have a purpose and it’s to provide them with any reason to feel worth something. “Hang in there kid, it's almost over.” I nudge his shoulder as he walks by.

  I prop the door with my boot, wondering if I'll ever get the chance to grill Dante about his in-the-know about everything. He practically wrote the baby book about Damien. It's hard to imagine Damien wearing a pair of those knitted booties though. For real, was Auntie J pro pacifier or anti-paci?

  Thinking about Damien as anything other than a cataclysmic event is hard to process. Instead, I choose to focus on it because all the other big Q's answered are too much to process right now. I wonder if he ever rode a tricycle around Wrath, the fifth circle of Hell. Ankle bashing anyone with a tricycle is enough to induce road rage. It might explain a few of the less than sweet dispositions around here. I grin. I always knew he had a penchant for getting on people's nerves. If it wasn't so terrifying, it might be kind of fun to be in on the secret.

  I'm just about to walk back and sit down when I hear a shout come from outside the doors. I run and slide on the ice as I skid to a halt in front of the bridge. Treachery has many faces and the one I should have been watching out for since the beginning is the evil little smirk of Jeremiah Worthington as he welcomes Zeke and Charles into his ranks. Amongst those ranks, are the hordes of demons we have been waiting on, sent by the uncles he has pissed off. It looks like Damien might have a free pass from mommy and daddy, but the rest of Hell doesn't understand why he’s getting away with his coup de grace. I've never been good at subterfuge, and as I watch Zeke shake hands with Jeremiah and Charles' eyes glint back at us in the cold, I kick myself internally, wishing I listened to my gut in the first place.