by Steven Brust
“May I walk with you a ways, Abdiel?”
Abdiel swallowed. “Of course,” he managed. “What—what brings you out here?”
“What? Oh, I was following you. You certainly are right about Satan having it in for you!”
“Yes. How did you follow me after the flood hit?”
“I didn’t. That was merely good fortune. Excuse me, Abdiel, but I still don’t understand something about the previous incident with the Lord Satan. Why it was that you left the safety of Yawch’s Palace and put yourself in such danger? Could you tell me again?”
Raziel was looking at him with frank and open curiosity. Abdiel felt a pounding in his head.
“As—as I said before: I had a feeling that there was danger for Michael and Raphael, and that I should warn them.”
“Hmmmm. Yes. But how did you miss them? They were on the road, as you were and as Satan was. How was it that you missed seeing Michael and Raphael, and yet Satan found you?”
Abdiel swallowed hard. The pounding in his head got stronger, and there was a roaring in his ears.
Then he realized that he was still carrying his sword.
After resting for a few hours, Satan stood up. Beelzebub opened his eyes, saw him, and stood up also.
“How fares thy foot, milord?”
“Sore, but I don’t think it’s anything serious. It could have been a lot worse.”
“Aye, milord. Hadst thou not awoke ere we reached the boulder, ‘twould have been worse indeed.”
Satan nodded. “Well, where to now?”
“I know not, milord. Back to Leviathan, perchance?”
“Hmmmm. Maybe. But that didn’t work out too well, last time.”
“Verily, milord. But then?”
“I don’t know.”
“What would’st thou do, milord, an thou could’st do as thou pleased?”
“If I could, I’d find Abdiel. But who knows where the waters left him? I doubt we’re so lucky that he didn’t survive.”
“Aye, milord.”
“Maybe I should try to get in and see Yaweh, after all.”
“An thou would, milord. The Palace doth lie in that direction, and the way is clear.”
“I don’t know. Would he see me? Do I want to see him?”
Beelzebub didn’t answer.
Satan shrugged. “Let’s rest here for another day or so. I’ll think it over.”
“Aye, milord.”
Looking for Lilith, they met an angel they didn’t know. He’d been walking toward the center, a sword in his right hand. He was tall and thin, with short, light hair. He turned, saw them, and waited.
They strode up to him and stopped. The three of them stood for a moment, then the tall angel inclined his head.
Lucifer spoke: “You were one of those who dared to attack the Lord Satan.”
“That is right,” said the other, laconically.
“Well?”
“We failed.”
“What is your name?” snapped Lucifer.
“Zaphkiel.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“I see by your cloak that you are a Firstborn.”
“I am Lucifer.”
“A pleasure,” said Zaphkiel.
“This is the archangel Asmodai.”
“A pleasure,” Zaphkiel repeated.
“We should destroy you for what you tried to do—you and all your companions.”
Zaphkiel shrugged.
Asmodai and Lucifer looked at him in silence. Asmodai spoke at last. “Forgive him, Lucifer; he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Lucifer nodded, still staring up at the other. “I suppose. You may go,” he said. “Hope that you don’t meet me again, Zaphkiel.”
“Thank you,” said Zaphkiel.
“Well? Why aren’t you going?”
“Since you’ve given me my life, I’ll give you something in return.”
“Yes?”
He raised his arm, and stiffly pointed southwest. “She’s that way,” he said, “walking toward the center.” Then he walked back toward the center, himself.
Lucifer and Asmodai stared, open mouthed, for a moment. Then they turned and began running in the direction that Zaphkiel had pointed.
Leviathan saw him standing by the shore, at the edge of the cleft, and swam over. He bowed his head to her.
“We never got to talk, Leviathan.”
“I know.”
“I’m very sorry about Ariel.”
“I know that, too. Thank you.”
“If there is anything I can do. . . .”
“There was a lot that I never heard, from Lucifer and Asmodai. How much do you know?”
“Not enough, I’m afraid. Still, here it is.”
The dark angel sat down, closed his eyes, and began speaking.
Abdiel stared at the spot where Raziel had been. He continued looking at it for long moments. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, as if willing the place to vanish, and take the act with it.
At length, he shook his head. “I didn’t know what I was doing,” he told himself. “I panicked. I couldn’t help myself. I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”
Still he stood there for long moments, wishing his mind were clear of the sight of Raziel’s face as the sword had cut into his stomach. And then Raziel had dropped to his knees, still amazed. Abdiel had stood there trembling, but Raziel didn’t seem ready to die. So Ab-diel had struck him again. He had aimed for his neck, but the sword had struck Raziel’s shoulder.
Then Raziel had pleaded—first with his eyes, then aloud. Abdiel had struck him again, jabbing him in the chest. Raziel fell back, yanking the sword from Abdiel’s hands.
Abdiel, nearly blind, had pulled the blade free, had seen the sick, orange glow coming from Raziel’s chest. Abdiel’s next blow had cut his neck, and then, finally, Raziel had vanished.
Abdiel began walking again. Then running, hoping to drive the memory out of his mind.
He had been running for a long time when he saw two Thrones slowly heading back toward the center. Yes, he decided, they would be useful as a test.
He slowed to a walk, took a few deep breaths, and hailed them. They saw him and bowed. He nodded sharply and motioned them to fall in next to him.
“I’m pleased that you two are well.”
“Thank you, Lord Abdiel.”
“Have you seen any of the others?”
“No, Lord.”
“I see. Stop for a moment.”
“Yes, Lord?”
“I’d like you to do something. Here, look at me. Watch my hands. Try to relax, now. Watch the way my hands are moving. Think of it as a path you walk along. From you to me, but only in your minds. No, you don’t have to understand, just think of it that way, and try to relax. . . .”
He left them there, pale and shaking, telling them that they would recover soon, and to make it back to the center when they could.
He felt as he never had before—powerful, full of energy and life, as if he could run forever and not feel it.
May as well not waste time, he decided, chuckling, and broke into a run toward the center of Heaven.
“It’s nice to know it’ll work,” he told himself.
Lucifer spotted them first and gave a shout. He and Asmodai started running as Lilith looked up.
Lucifer and Lilith met, and held each other without saying anything. Asmodai met Harut, and clasped his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Harut nodded. “Banged up some. Okay, I guess.”
“Good.”
“Lilith told me what happened.”
“And?”
“If I can do anything to help out, you let me know, right?”
“Good. We will. And if I can do anything for you, let me know about that.”
Harut chuckled humorlessly. “You can do something for me, but I don’t know when you’ll have time.”
“What is it?”
“My cithara. It got lost in the flood.”<
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“I’ll make you another.”
“I’m obliged.”
Asmodai looked at Lucifer and Lilith, who were still holding each other tightly without moving or speaking. He turned back to Harut.
“You can play me a love song on it.”
Abdiel nodded haughtily at the Cherubim by the door and brushed past into Yaweh’s presence. Raphael was there, going over the parchment on which the Plan was inscribed. He noted that the case that had held Michael’s sword had been removed.
They looked up, and the Seraphim moved aside for Abdiel to pass.
“You’re back quickly,” said Yaweh. “What have you to report?”
“We failed,” said Abdiel.
For the briefest moment, it almost seemed an expression of relief crossed Yaweh’s face.
“We found him,” Abdiel continued, “in company with Leviathan, Lucifer, and Asmodai. We approached him, but as we got close, Belial appeared from the north and scattered us. Satan attacked me, but I was rescued by the Lord Michael. In the process of rescuing me, his sword struck the ground, and there was an explosion that knocked us all down and seemed to make all of Heaven shake. Then—”
“So that’s what it was!” said Raphael. “We felt it.”
“It couldn’t have been that,” said Yaweh, looking closely at Ab-diel. “That was only two days ago.”
Abdiel shifted on his feet. “I’ll explain that in a moment, Lord. After the explosion, there was a great flood, which completed the scattering of our forces. I don’t know if the explosion caused it, or if Leviathan set it off. There may have been some lost in the flood; I don’t know. I returned as soon as I could. The other Thrones should be returning in a few days.”
Yaweh nodded. “All right, then. How is it you are so far ahead of them?”
“I moved very quickly to bring you the news. I have found a way to run for long periods of time without needing to rest.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, Lord. It’s part of something else. Do you recall mention I made some time ago of a plan I was working on?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“It is now complete, Lord.”
“It involves running without resting?”
“No. That was just a test of part of it. I still don’t know if it will work, but I’d like to explain it to you, Lord.”
“Very well.”
“First, Lord, let me discuss the problem I am hoping to solve....”
As he spoke, Raphael studied him through slitted eyes.
“This is quite some tale, Mephistopheles.”
“I know. And that is only what I know—there is a great deal that I don’t. Maybe enough to change the meaning of the whole of it; I’m not sure.”
“Yes. It certainly is something to think about, though.” She ducked her head under the water, and brought it up again, accidentally-showering Mephistopheles.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right. Is there more I can do for you?”
“Yes. I still wish to speak to the Lord Satan. Do you think you can find him?”
“I don’t know. He could be anywhere. I’ll try.”
“I appreciate it.”
“It may take a while.”
“That’s all right. And, Mephistopheles—”
“Hmmm?”
“Try to find Harut, too.”
“Okay.”
Lucifer, Lilith, and Asmodai made their way toward the center of Heaven. They took their time, and spoke often of their doubts. What should they do? Who was on which side? What of Mephistopheles?
They decided to return to Asmodai’s home, there to build them weapons of war, which which to oppose Yaweh. None was happy with this decision, but none could escape its inevitability.
They knew, also, that Yaweh now considered them opposed to him without room for doubt, so they often looked around as if they expected to see a hundred angels with swords uplifted running toward them and screaming. They knew that Asmodai’s home might not be safe. But they knew that to go to Leviathan, now, would be to draw danger to her. And there was no way to find Satan.
Harut had left to return to Leviathan to reassure her. He had made his choice of sides by his statement to Asmodai.
Occasionally Lucifer, Lilith, and Asmodai would pass by Thrones, who had recovered from the flood and were returning to Yaweh’s Palace. None of the Thrones spoke, and the archangels ignored the Thrones.
They passed the night in silence, setting no guard, daring any of Yaweh’s minions to attack them as they rested.
At last they reached the center, and Asmodai’s home. The house was undisturbed, and empty.
Asmodai lit the fires, which needed a day to become hot enough to use. They shared wine, and companionship, and tried not to think about Ariel.
“You wished to see me, Lord?”
“Yes, Abdiel. Thank you for coming.” He motioned the Seraphim out of earshot and indicated to Abdiel that he was to approach. Abdiel did so, bowing.
“I’ve considered your scheme. Indeed, I’ve done little else for the past several days.”
“Yes, Lord?”
“Raphael and I have spoken of it at length. She agrees that what you brought up about morale, and the attitudes of the angels, is a problem. She agrees that this will solve the problem. But she doesn’t like it.
“Nor do I, Abdiel. I don’t like it at all.”
“Lord, I—”
“Peace, Abdiel. I don’t like it, but I think it’s necessary. Raphael and I have been up nights trying to decide if there is any other way to solve the problem, or if we can get by without solving it. We finally admitted that we had no choice. We are going to do it.”
“I feel gratified, Lord.”
“There are things which make me very unhappy, Abdiel, but it is a chance to solve the problem with Satan once and for all—and we can’t pass it up.”
“That is, indeed, how I saw it, Lord.”
“We will begin at once.”
“At once, Lord?”
“Nearly. I’ve sent out messengers this morning. The entire host— all of Heaven—is being asked to gather on the hillside behind the palace. In fifteen days.”
“Fifteen days, Lord? But, excuse me, Lord Yaweh, there are those who live more than seven days distant. They will not receive the message in time to come.”
“My messengers are faster than you think, Abdiel. They’re using your method. They’ll arrive, at the latest, early tomorrow in the most distant areas of the Southern Regency. If those who live there hurry, they will be able to be here in fourteen days. And they were asked to hurry.”
“I see, Lord. That leaves little time for preparations.”
“I know. We must begin at once. What will we need?”
“Need? Nothing, actually, Lord. But we must be certain that we know how to do it, without fail.”
“Then let us begin. I’ll summon Raphael.”
“All right, Lord. But . . . Lord, I still don’t understand why we are rushing like this. Excuse me.”
Yaweh shook his head. “It isn’t necessary that you understand, good Abdiel. It is necessary; that is enough.”
“Yes, Lord.”
Yaweh signaled to a Seraph, who received his orders, and went to find Raphael. Yaweh closed his eyes. He knew very well that they had to do this soon—because, if they delayed, he wouldn’t have the courage or the will to do it at all.
“What do you suppose it is, Kyriel?”
“How should I know? Everyone sure is excited about it, though.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that everyone is going to be there.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, too. Is there going to be room on the hill for them?”
“I hope so. You know what I think, Kyriel?”
“Not often, Sith.”
“Cut it out.”
“Sorry. What?”
“I think this is it. “
“You mean the Plan?”
“Yeah. I think he’s
going to start it, right then.”
“Already? Don’t be foolish.”
“Well, then, what is it?”
“I don’t know. It probably has to do with the Plan. Maybe he’s going to answer the rumors, and the talk about Satan.”
“I guess that’s possible. It sure will be something to see, though. Twelve more days.”
“Yeah. I’m getting anxious.”
“Ha! Not half as anxious as Yaweh is, I’ll bet.”
“Watch your mouth, Sith.”
“Sorry.”
Harut and Mephistopheles met on the barren plains near the eastern border of Leviathan’s realm.
“Are you heading back to see her?” asked Mephistopheles.
“Yup.”
“Good. That saves me some trouble. She was asking about you.”
“I’ll be there in a day or so. I don’t move too fast, you know.”
Mephistopheles smiled a bit and clasped Harut’s shoulder. “Say,” he said suddenly, “have you seen Satan, by any chance?”
“No,” said Harut. “I can guess where he is, though. There’s talk all over about a big get-together in the center, in eleven days. If he’s heard of it, he’ll be there.”
“What kind of get-together, Harut?”
“Dunno. But everybody is supposed to show up.”
“Hmmmm. What about you?”
“I’ll be with Leviathan.”
“I see.”
“Afternoon, Mephistopheles.”
“So long, Harut.”
Michael strode up to the throne, and the Seraphim made way for him lest they be trampled.
“Welcome,” said Yaweh.
Michael nodded.
Yaweh continued, “I’ve heard what happened.”
“From Abdiel?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad he made it back safely. I’m sorry I failed again.”
“In failing, you saved Abdiel’s life—again. And Abdiel had an idea along the way. I’m going ahead with it. You won’t like it, I think. I don’t like it either. But we’re going to do it.”
Michael studied Yaweh for a moment, then he slapped himself on the chest. Dust sprang out. Michael brushed at his right arm and sides.
“I see,” said Yaweh, “that you’ve had a long trip. Would you like me to wait before describing Abdiel’s scheme?”