To Reign in Hell: A Novel

by Steven Brust

  Leviathan swam as close as she could and stretched her neck out so she was nearly face to face with the owl. “Welcome, Ariel,” she said. “I see Mephistopheles finally found you.”

  “He found me in forest in light of the day, and asked if by chance I would still know the way, to where you await me near rocks by the sea.”

  “ ‘Near rocks by the say?’ Oh. Never mind. Not bad, Ariel. Well, what did you learn?”

  Ariel cleared his throat and began: “I found out that Yaweh has grow-en full sore, at Satan who turns down invites to his door, and Lucifer, Lilith, and p’raps many more. I saw then that Michael does hunt for this one, to ask him for reasons for what he has done, with Raphael, he’s going forth at a run.”

  “I can see,” said Leviathan, “that it’s going to to take a while to get the whole story. I may as well relax.”

  Abdiel was well ahead of Raphael and Michael, but he hadn’t yet found Satan and Beelzebub. With the added strain of having to find Satan before either of the others saw him or each other, he could barely keep going.

  “This is stupid,” he told himself. “But unavoidable,” he added.

  He moved along the road as quickly as he could, without the risk of being spotted too soon. It was still fully day, so both parties would be moving. One way or another, he decided, something would happen before nightfall.

  Yaweh paced back and forth within the chamber, feeling more alone than he had ever felt since he had discovered, back at the beginning, that there was such a thing as un-alone.

  Deciding that he needed company, he called his page.

  “Yes, Lord?”

  “Bring Abdiel. I want to speak with him.”

  “Abdiel is gone, Lord.”

  “Gone? Don’t be ridiculous. Where would he go?”

  “I don’t know, Lord. But he left soon after Michael and Raphael.”

  “But—are you sure?”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  Yaweh stood silent, then noticed the page. “You may go.”

  “Yes, Lord,” said the page, who bowed and left.

  Yaweh remained, feeling very much alone indeed.

  “This doesn’t make sense, Ariel. No, don’t answer. But it doesn’t. Mephistopheles tells me that Gabriel has summoned Satan for Yaweh. Now I learn that Satan refused the summons. But I also hear that he’s left the Southern Hold and is going toward the center. Why?”

  Ariel started to speak, stopped at a look from Leviathan. Her tail swirled the water behind her as she said, “Let me think for a minute.”

  She did so, with Ariel looking around him absently.

  “No,” she said, “I was right in the first place. There is something wrong, and I’ll never find out what without speaking to Satan.” She sighed. “Sometimes, Ariel, I hate being stuck like this.”

  “I grieve for you, lady, with all of my heart, I do what I can to aid for my part; so tell me my mission—anon will I start.”

  “Thank you, Ariel. Your help means a great deal to me. As to your ‘mission,’ if you will, I want to speak to Satan as soon as possible. Tell him so. Say please. I think he’ll come.”

  “I go to find Satan and bring him to you; I fear I’ll be gone for an evening or two, but I promise to do all the best I can do.”

  As he finished, he bobbed his head, spread his wings, and launched himself into the air. He circled once over her head and was gone.

  “Fare thee well, Ariel,” she said softly. She sighed. “It’s good to have friends.”

  “Yes, it is, honey.”

  “Harut! How long have you been there?”

  “Just got here. Thought I heard Ariel’s voice, but I guess I missed him.”

  “Yes. Harut, are you sure you saw Satan and Beelzebub leaving the Southern Hold? I don’t mean to offend you, but—”

  “I know. It’s all right. Well, they weren’t saying anything, and they didn’t seem to notice me, but one was an angel, and I’d say he was an archangel at least by the way he walked, and—”

  “The way he walked?”

  “Yeah. You know, some people kind of step lightly, as if they aren’t sure what they’re about. An’ some kinda march, like they aren’t carin’ who’s in the way. Well, this guy knew where he was going, and he was sure of himself. And he was the right size for Satan, too—I could hear how far apart his feet planted themselves.”

  “I see.”

  “And whoever was next to him had four legs and wasn’t very big.”

  “Yes, I guess that does sound like Satan and Beelzebub.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But it’s strange.”

  “What’s strange, honey?”

  “There’s a lot going on, Harut. I wish I understood it. But I don’t think anyone does, two legs, four legs, or no legs. Eyes or no eyes.”

  “There somethin’ I can do?”

  “No . . . yes. Follow Ariel. See if you can find Satan and learn whatever you can. Ariel doesn’t always see everything he might.”

  “Sure.”

  “But play me a song first.”

  Harut smiled. Leviathan wished for a moment that he could see his own smile. It would brighten his day, too.

  Abdiel heard them before he saw them, which was lucky for him.

  “This road is in good shape, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, milord. ’Tis said there are those who work at keeping it.”

  “Really?”

  “So ’tis said. And that they extend it, so that someday it may link the Palace and the Southern Hold.”

  “That would be good, I think.”

  “And I, milord.”

  “But if we’re going to be leaving Heaven, I guess we’ll never see it.”

  “Think’st thou that we shall leave, milord? What of thy doubts?”

  “Hmmm. Beelzebub, are you under the illusion that anything we’re going to do or not do will stop the Plan?”

  “Well, milord, my thought hath been—”

  “Well, it shouldn’t have. I’m not interested in stopping the Plan, nor am I capable of it. The only question is whether or not I’m going to participate. Do you think I’m irreplaceable? I’m not.”

  “As thou sayest, milord.”

  By this time Abdiel was well up the path. He found a spot amid the trees to one side where he could see the road, but was still partially sheltered.

  He sat down to rest and wait, and think about a ball of white fire, burning in his middle.

  “He wouldn’t see me, Asmodai.”

  “Oh, hello, Lucifer. Who wouldn’t? Yaweh?”

  “That’s right. I went to see him as I said I would, and he wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “Why?”

  “He said he was busy.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Yes.”

  “How did he seem?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t actually see him. His page relayed the message. He seemed very apologetic.”

  “The page? Gabriel?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Hmmmm.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that it was this same page who was to bring the Lord Satan. And he’s the one who relayed the Lord Satan’s answer, which wasn’t anything like the answer we, who’d just spoken to him, would have expected.”

  “I think I see what you mean.”

  “Yes. I’d like to speak to Yaweh.”

  “You’re right. I don’t think he can keep us out no matter what he does, if we really want to get in. Are you with me?”

  “Yes! When?”

  “Now.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Alone in the dark, Yaweh nursed his sorrow and his doubts. If he could have solved the problem by abandoning the Plan, he would have done so, but it was beyond that now—Raphael had made that clear to him.

  If he could have convinced himself that Abdiel was wrong, he would have done that, but he couldn’t—it fit the pattern too well. First Satan, then maybe
Michael, perhaps Lucifer—no, this was organized, not random. He could feel it. And that meant that Abdiel was right.

  If he could have been sure the Plan could go on without him, he would let them destroy him when they wanted to, because he could see no more pleasure in life, with his friends deserting and hating him. But he couldn’t. Of them all, he was the only one who could see the Plan through.

  The conclusion was inescapable—-he would have to do what Abdiel suggested.

  Since Yaweh had no understanding of hate, he couldn’t know that, as he summoned his page to bring Uriel, he hated himself.

  Uriel bowed very low, “How may I serve you, Lord?”

  “Uriel,” said Yaweh, “you know much of the Plan, do you not?”

  “I know somewhat of it, Lord.”

  “And do you like it?”

  “Like it, Lord? It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder. Yes, I like it. I think it would be a wondrous thing.”

  “Good. Do you know that there are those who would stop it?”

  “I’ve heard it rumored, Lord, but I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

  “It’s true.”

  “This grieves me, Lord.”

  “And me also.”

  “Is there something I can do, Lord?”

  “Yes, Uriel, there is.”

  “I am ready, as always, Lord.”

  “Good. Find two hundred angels and bring them here.”

  “Two hundred?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, Lord.”

  “But before bringing them, have each of them find a sapling—a straight sapling of good wood about his own height, and sharpen one end of it.”

  “Sharpen it, Lord?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Very well, Lord.”

  “Have them back with the prepared saplings in one hour.”

  “As you say, Lord.”

  “Then find the archangel Albrot, who worked with Asmodai. Have him fashion swords, to look like Michael’s, only smaller. I want them soon. When they’re ready, replace the saplings with the swords.”

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “Go, then.”

  Uriel bowed and left. Yaweh leaned back and closed his eyes, trying not to think of what he had just done.

  “One thing about these sticks.”

  “What’s that, Sith?”

  “Well, if we poked someone with them, it would hurt, wouldn’t it?”

  “Huh? It sure would! So what?”

  “Well, I wonder if that’s what they’re for?”

  “To poke someone with?”

  “Well, what else?”

  “I don’t know. What makes you think of that?”

  “The Plan.”

  “You mean we might have to poke angels who don’t go along with the Plan?”

  “It could be.”

  “You don’t really think so, do you?”

  “I don’t know. How’s this?”

  “Uh . . . that’s good. Check mine?”

  “Ow!”

  “I guess it’s good enough, huh?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Yaweh stood before his throne. To his left were twenty angels; to his right were eighty angels; in front of him were another hundred. Also before were Uriel, Gabriel, and an archangel named Raziel.

  Yaweh cleared his throat and began. “Greetings to you, my loyal and true angels.”

  The angels before him looked at each other.

  “I have called you here because I need you,” he continued. “Some of you may have heard of a great Plan being formed. It is true that there is such a Plan. We are trying to make a safe place for us all to live. That is the Plan. You are to be its guardians.

  “Why does it need guardians? Because some of your brethren wish to stop it. I will not say who, because I’m not sure of them. I can not say why, because I don’t know. None of them has spoken to me.

  “But I know this is the case. I am deeply saddened—” He stopped for a moment and looked away. When he looked back, his face was normal. “I am deeply saddened, but it cannot be helped. The Plan is for all of us equally. I cannot let them stop it by destroying me, as they may wish to do.

  “I might be wrong. I hope I’m wrong, but, for the sake of the Plan, I cannot risk myself now.”

  He looked at the hundred angels directly in front of him. “You,” he said, “will guard the outside of the Palace, so that none may come near in force. There must be some of you there at all times. You may let groups of four pass; you must stop any group larger than that. You will be called Thrones, for you will extend my throne outside of the Palace, and any gathering that wishes to appear before the throne shall appear before you, instead.” He pointed with his right hand. “You will guard the inside of this palace. You will stand together, taking turns while your comrades sleep, so that none may enter without my leave. You shall be named Cherubim, after Cherubiel who fell in the Third Wave.” He pointed with his left hand. “You,” he said, “will stay near me, around my throne, so that any who get past the Cherubim will be stopped. You will be called Seraphim, after Seraphiel, who also fell in the Third Wave.

  “Raziel shall be chief of the Thrones, Gabriel shall lead the Cherubim, and Uriel shall lead the Seraphim.

  “And know this, also: No one, be he angel, archangel, or Firstborn, shall give orders to you, save only myself, and your chiefs.”

  He looked around at them.

  He saw Raziel, Gabriel, and Uriel as their faces swelled with pride. Throughout the room, this same reaction was occurring. To be on the same level as a Firstborn? Even above a Firstborn in some ways? Yaweh frowned. There was something wrong about this reaction, but yet . . . he sighed inwardly.

  “Go now to your appointed places. The future of all the hosts of Heaven rests with you.”

  With some disorder, as Gabriel and Uriel got used to telling others what to do instead of being told themselves, they made their way to their positions.

  Once more, he sighed to himself. He had done what he had to do. Now he had only to learn to live with it.

  Abdiel relaxed and controlled his breathing. Soon, he knew, they would be before him, and he would have to act quickly. And carefully. He wanted to hurt the one, but not too badly. He had only a vague idea of how strong he was going to have to be, because, so far as he knew, nothing like this had ever been done. He knew that a blast of illiaster that would only annoy a Firstborn could destroy a mere angel, and that one that would injure a healthy angel could destroy one who was wounded. He knew all of this, but he didn’t know precisely how much to use in this situation, so he was going to have to be careful.

  He concentrated on his illiaster, because that way he wasn’t so nervous.

  Lucifer and Asmodai wondered at the angels outside of the Palace carrying sticks, and resolved to ask Yaweh about this, too. Inside they found Gabriel. On either side of him was an angel holding a stick, and there were several more around the main hallway. Lucifer and Asmodai ignored them.

  “We’re here to see Yaweh,” said Lucifer.

  Gabriel bowed. “He doesn’t wish to see you, Lord, as I explained earlier.”

  Neither noticed how perfunctory the “lord” was.

  “That won’t do,” said Asmodai. “We’re here to see him. If he doesn’t want to speak with us, he can tell us so.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

  “Indeed?” said Lucifer.

  They began to brush past him—and stopped. In front of them stood six angels, each holding a stick sharpened to a point, and the point was aimed at them.

  “What is this?”

  “You cannot go inside,” said Gabriel.

  They looked around and saw twelve more angels looking determined and excited.

  Asmodai turned to Lucifer. “Do you know, I think they’re going to poke us with those things.”

  Lucifer nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “Well, have we found out what we came to find out?”


  “I guess we have. We were wrong after all.”

  “Yes. Unless—”

  “Yes?”

  “How do we know this is by Yaweh’s will?”

  “I see what you mean.”

  They looked around themselves and saw the same determined faces, still pointing the sharpened sticks at them.

  “I’m going to try something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Be ready!” called Gabriel. “At the first sign—”

  His voice caught. There was the sound of clattering as sticks fell from hands which dropped to sides. The angels around them were staring forward, dumbly.

  “Go!” hissed Lucifer between his teeth. “I can’t hold them like this for long. Speak to Yaweh and find out!”

  Asmodai ran forward and flung open the door to the throne room. Ten angels with sticks surrounded the throne, Uriel at their head.

  The angels spun and stared. “An attack!” cried Uriel. “Stop him!”

  “It’s true, then,” said Yaweh.

  “That answers my question,” said Asmodai, and bolted.

  When he returned, he found a dozen more angels with sticks running toward Lucifer, who was beginning to look worried.

  “I’ve found out!” he called. “Let’s go.”

  Lucifer and Asmodai, as one, raced for the door. The Cherubim, released, growled and reached for their spears.

  “After them,” called Gabriel.

  “I hope we’re faster than they are,” said Asmodai.

  Lucifer saved his breath for running.

  Ariel spotted them from above, despite his poor eyesight. He was pleased with how short a time it had taken. He began circling down to hailing distance, and composing the proper introduction.

  As he dropped, something caught his eye. Where was it? There! In the trees off to the side.

  He went closer. Abdiel! What was he doing here? He seemed to be watching the road. For what? Was he waiting for Satan and Beelzebub? If so, why not wait where they could see him?

  Ariel wondered whether he should stop and ask him. He came a little closer, landing in a tree between Abdiel and the road.

  There was a funny feeling in the air, he decided. He tried to think of what it was. It was certainly familiar. Where had he run into it before?