“I realize that, but I don’t suspect the Norns of such complicity. Nor do I suspect Nona, Decima, or Morta of the Parcae.”
“That leaves only the Moirae – the three sisters whose songs reveal human destiny.”
Rhiannon nodded. “Lachesis who sings of things past; Clotho who sings of things that are; and Atropos who sings of things yet to be – all daughters of the Dark Goddess Nyx.”
The landdís arched a translucent eyebrow. “You would question the Fates, and impugn Nyx’s children and possibly the Mother of All herself? Why would you take such risk?”
Rhiannon held up her hourglass. “As Keeper of the Sands of Time, my hourglass reveals the past, present, and future to me. But there is… A cloud over parts of the past. I cannot fulfill my sacred duty unless I can see clearly.” She watched the grains of sand slowly tumbling through the hourglass. “Something’s not right. The Sands do not lie. The nature of the multiverse, indeed the very fabric of reality, has been altered and I must find out how – and why.”
Alaric and Asabi shivered as they surveyed their surroundings. Lacking starlight, the subterranean cavern was even darker than the surface of the earthly realm, let alone the well-lit realm of the Dreamscape that they had left. Yet their eyes soon adjusted to the caliginosity.
“It’s freezing,” Alaric said. “Why is it so cold here?”
Asabi looked around. “I’ve visited Hell before, but I’ve never seen it like this. In my reality, the demon Ukobach tends the Infernal Furnace, which generates the power for all of Hell and every demon’s hellfire. It should be right up ahead.” She led Alaric deeper down the cavern. They stopped when they reached the Infernal Furnace. Asabi gasped. “I don’t believe it!”
Alaric looked around the cold, desolate cavern. “What? I don’t see anything.”
“Exactly. There should be thousands of the Damned being whipped and tortured but there’s no one around. And Ukobach should be shoveling coal into the Infernal Furnace, but look at it: it’s iced over.”
Alaric perused their surroundings. “No one’s been here in quite some time. If they were here, the Damned are long gone. It’s not as I had pictured it.”
“Nor is it as I remember the Hell of my reality.” Asabi recalled Eligos mentioning Heaven and Hell had been emptied by the Dark Gods and that the Infernal Furnace had been extinguished, leaving the Underworld a cold and barren place where only the most desperate of demons chose to remain to hide from the dark deities. “This is a shuttered and empty realm.”
Alaric nodded. “Which makes it the perfect place to banish someone. There are nine levels in Hell; I’ll descend to each and search until I find my father or until I’m convinced he’s not here. I’ll understand if you wish to go back.”
Asabi shook her head. “My task is to make sure you establish the Resistance and that means guaranteeing you return to your realm safely.”
Alaric gave an appreciative nod. They descended to the next level, and only rarely did they spot a pathetic or frightened demon scurrying through the caverns. Eventually they came across a morose figure sitting in a frozen-over fire pit, grieving. Alaric recognized the tri-headed demon who bore the heads of a bull and a ram in addition to a human one. “Asmodeus!” Alaric called out.
“You know that demon?” Asabi asked.
“He’s the demon of lust and lord of mischief… And also one of my father’s best friends. He used to visit us topside when I was little.”
The demon studied Alaric’s features. “Alaric?” he ventured. “Is it you?”
The boy grinned. “It’s good to see you again, Asmodeus.”
“You’ve grown. You’re practically a man. I’d forgotten how quickly humans grow up. I should have made more trips topside while you were younger, but Lucifer and I often go decades without seeing each other; and besides, the past few years have been extremely difficult for me.”
“You did seem unusually subdued when we arrived,” Alaric said.
“We?” Asmodeus saw Alaric was not alone. “I hadn’t noticed your darker companion; she blended in with the shadows. Is this your mate?”
Alaric laughed. “No, she’s my friend. Asabi is an emere and she transported me to Hell.”
“That’s too bad. Finding your life mate is one of the few things that really matters.”
Alaric looked around. “Where’s Chrysanthemum?”
Asmodeus gulped and turned his three heads away. Alaric thought he saw the eyes on all three heads tear up. “Asmodeus?”
The demon stepped out of the frozen fire pit. His bull’s head grunted and then his human head spoke. “Chrys is dead.” He uttered the words solemnly and paused for several seconds to regain his composure before continuing. “My beloved Chrysanthemum was slain by the Dark Gods. She was the light of my life in a world of darkness and now that light has been extinguished forever.”
“Asmodeus, I’m so sorry,” Alaric said. “I had no idea.”
“It was always my greatest fear that some harm might befall her. Mortals are so fragile. I thought she would be safer here, in the ruins of Hell, rather than topside where the Dark Gods and their servants are most active. But their tentacles reach even into the bowels of Hell.”
Alaric stared at the grieving demon. “Is this what you do all day?
Asmodeus’ three heads nodded in unison. “I mourn. I think of Chrys and the wonderful life we had together that’s now gone forever.”
“What about your friends and family?”
“Most everyone went topside when the Dark Gods shut down Hell and Heaven. My mother opened a chain of brothels in Europe.”
“I remember her: Naamah, the fallen angel of prostitution.”
“She’s become quite successful topside. My servant Razakel, the demon of madness and despair, left a note saying he found it too depressing to be around me in my current state. I don’t blame him; I’ve been miserable since Chrys died. As for the others, well, hardly anyone is left in Hell. Torquemada, Evil Tail… Mostly just a handful of the really bad sorts.”
“You should leave this place and go topside, too. You’ll only become more morose in this environment.”
Asmodeus sighed. “Maybe you’re right. It would do me good to see Lucifer again.”
Alaric grimaced. “He’s not here?”
A puzzled expression crossed Asmodeus’ human face. “Why would Lucifer be back in Hell?”
“The Dark Gods banished him somewhere; this seemed like the logical place.”
“I haven’t seen him on any of the levels,” Asmodeus said. “It’s not crowded here anymore. Someone would have mentioned seeing him.”
Alaric was disappointed but nonetheless determined. “I still want to search for myself. I’ll try a locator spell on each level.”
A beautiful young blonde entered the cavern bringing Asmodeus a tray of fruit. Asabi’s jaw dropped when she came closer and she got a good look at her. “Cassiopeia!”
The angel cocked her head and looked at the black girl. “You know my name. Have we met?”
Asabi gulped, overcome by a rush of emotions. “No. I’m an emere. I’ve seen you on my trips to Heaven.”
Cassiopeia smiled the familiar sweet, innocent smile etched into Asabi’s memory and now resurrected from the dead like the legendary phoenix. “It’s been a long time since I was last in Heaven. Now that the seven heavens are shuttered there’s nothing to do up there. And there’s so much more to do for the poor broken souls that remain in Hell, few though they may be.”
“She has become Hell’s own Florence Nightingale,” Asmodeus said. “Since she came to the Underworld, Cassiopeia has been ministering to the needs of the few devastated demons and other outcasts that have taken refuge here. I don’t know what I’d have done without her. I’ve been in a tremendous state of depression since Chrysanthemum was slain and Cassiopeia’s been a true angel providing solace in my time of grief.”
Alaric placed a comforting hand on Asmodeus’ shoulder. “I must begin my s
earch for my father. I’ll get the best results if I cast a locator spell on each level but if Hell is as empty as you say, then it shouldn’t take long.” He glanced at Asabi. “Are you coming?”
“I need to rest after all the teleporting I’ve been doing lately. I’ll wait for you to return.”
Alaric nodded and headed off.
Asabi turned to Cassiopeia. “I wasn’t expecting to run into someone else from Heaven. Would you care to take a stroll through the cavern with me?”
Cassiopeia glanced at Asmodeus. “Do you mind, or would you prefer I keep you company for a while?”
“No, of course not,” the demon replied. “I’m sure you two have a lot of mutual friends to catch up on. I’ll work my way through this bowl of fruit.” In truth, Asmodeus’ ram’s head was already nibbling on the grapes and his bull’s head was chewing an apple.
Asabi and Cassiopeia walked through the dusty cavern. “You must have met my sister Angela,” Cassiopeia said.
“The Creator’s receptionist? Yes, a lovely girl.” As they walked, Asabi re-experienced the initial attraction to what had been the emere’s first love. Asabi recalled the encounter with the angelic and innocent Cassiopeia during a visit to the fourth heaven, Machen. Of course, in that reality Asabi had been a boy – a eunuch, but nonetheless a boy – and despite that shortcoming they had made love in the heavenly fields along the streams of milk and honey. They had each shared their innocence and it had been a beautiful and tender moment. Asabi’s mind flashed forward to the emere’s subsequent visit to Machen where he had seen Cassiopeia’s defiled body strewn on the riverbank, the first victim of the vicious attack on Heaven by the Netherspawn in the opening salvo of the Great War with the Dark Gods.
They stepped over green malachite and blue azurite crystals lining the cavern floor. Asabi observed the many scattered stalagmites – mineral deposits that precipitated from water dripping onto the ground – growing upward, as if reaching to break through to the topside, only to be constrained by the icicle-shaped stalactites hanging from the cave ceiling. This is nothing like Heaven, Asabi thought. Perhaps Cassiopeia would be safe here.
As they strolled, waves of emotion washed over Asabi. The emere felt grief over her death but happiness at the opportunity to spend more time with one thought lost forever. Asabi also felt the rekindling of a familiar attachment and desire. As they walked and talked, Asabi drew closer. He… She… Asabi no longer knew how to think of himself/herself. In the emere’s mind he was a young man but looking down at his body he… She saw the same female form as did everyone else. She realized it shouldn’t matter to her; she was still Asabi on the inside, no matter the gender she wore. Asabi clasped Cassiopeia’s hand and moments later pressed the young angel against the stony cavern wall and kissed her. Asabi drew back. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Why am I sorry, or why did I kiss you?”
“Both.”
“I kissed you because my heart told me I needed to; and I’m sorry because my brain told me it was wrong.”
Cassiopeia looked puzzled. “Why is it wrong to express your feelings?”
Asabi smiled, fondly remembering the innocent angel’s naïveté. “It was wrong to presume you shared them.”
“Do you mean because you’re a stranger I’ve only just met, or because we’re both female?”
Asabi was uncertain how to respond. Having known Cassiopeia intimately in another lifetime, she was no stranger; and Asabi still did not think of herself as female. But in this reality, Asabi knew she was both a stranger and a young woman in Cassiopeia’s eyes.
Cassiopeia smiled at the ebon youth. She took Asabi’s hand in hers and pulled the emere closer. “It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels as though we were meant to be together… some time, some place.” Cassiopeia leaned in and kissed Asabi back. Moments later, their clothes were strewn across the dusty cavern floor and they made love once again for the first time. Afterward, Cassiopeia led Asabi back to the spot where Asmodeus was still grieving in one of the dank chambers. “I must return to providing aid and solace to the other denizens of this realm. Will I see you again, Asabi?”
Asabi flinched. The emere wanted, with every ounce of her being, to be able to reply with an emphatic affirmation, especially when she remembered the image of Cassiopeia’s slashed and defiled body on the riverbank. But Asabi knew the mission Metatron had sent her on would end either with destruction at the hands of the Dark Gods or restoration of the original reality… a reality in which the tender, kind Cassiopeia no longer existed. Asabi gulped, realizing the success of the mission would condemn the vibrant, trusting young angel into being nothing more than a ghost from the past. “My heart want to say yes—”
“But your brain says no.” Cassiopeia smiled. “I understand. We each have our path to follow and we must consider it fortunate our paths were able to cross, if only once.”
“If only once,” Asabi repeated. “Most fortunate, indeed.” Asabi returned a sad smile as Cassiopeia turned, disappearing into the dark cavern.
Asmodeus approached Asabi. “Cassiopeia is a remarkable person. What a strange world in which one might find an angel in Hell.”
Asabi nodded. “O’ strange new world that has such wonders in it.”
“She’s a ray of light in an otherwise dark world.” He sighed. “I hope Alaric finds his father, although I doubt he’ll find him in Hell. Lucifer is one of my oldest friends. It would be unthinkable if the bastards who killed my Chrysanthemum have also taken Lucifer from us.” He looked up and saw Alaric returning.
“You were right,” Alaric said. “My father’s not here.”
“I should have helped you,” Asabi said. “We would’ve been able to cover more ground.”
Alaric shook his head. “My locator spells would have found him if he were anywhere in Hell. I’ll have to look elsewhere. But I will find my father.”
Asabi turned to Asmodeus. “The Dark Gods have taken much from all of us. You share our antipathy toward them. There’s nothing left for you here but misery and heartbreak. Why not join our Resistance?”
The demon’s bull’s head snorted. “Why not? What the hell.” His human head chuckled at his unintentional quip. “Wait here. If I’m leaving Hell, then I want to stop at my cave and bring something of Chrysanthemum’s – a memento to remember her by.”
Alaric and Asabi nodded, watching Asmodeus depart. “What’s wrong?” Alaric asked. “You look troubled.”
Asabi grimaced. “In Phantasos’ dream or prophecy or whatever it was, I had to choose between Cassiopeia and Síofra. In my reality, only one had survived but here in the Alterverse they’re both alive. By carrying out the mission I’ll be condemning one to death when my reality is restored.”
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you? You’re the one who said the Resistance must come before the life of any single individual.”
Asabi sighed reluctantly. “I know. There is no choice to be made; not really. I’m on a divine mission and God’s will allows for no deviation. I suppose, for every one that must perish another will live in his or her place once reality is restored. Perhaps then, your friend Asmodeus will be reunited with his beloved Chrysanthemum.”
“That would be a blessing,” Alaric said.
Asabi stared in the direction of the cavern into which Cassiopeia had disappeared. “A blessing,” she repeated, sadly and unconvincingly.
Chapter Seven
Mordred Pendragon admired Angelique Ward’s naked body. If one had to sleep his way to the top, there were undoubtedly far less enjoyable ways to do so, he thought. Angelique was a goddess, after all, and she had crafted her human form with divine perfection. Of course, Mordred would have slept with a sheep to obtain the power he craved, but this made his capitulation much more palatable.
Angelique purred like a kitten. “Are all warlocks as skilled with their magic wands as you, Mordred?”
“Experience is what makes one stand out in any endeavor. In addi
tion to being the most powerful warlock the world has ever known, I’ve acquired quite a rakish reputation over the centuries.”
“Unfortunately, I must postpone our pleasures of the flesh until much later tonight. Julian and I have a full schedule today. But I’ll look forward to seeing you back here in my chamber after the conference.”
“Your desires are my commands.” He slid his hand down her back and over the curve of her buttocks while gently licking and kissing her nipples. “Until tonight.” He left the chamber.
Julian Ward watched the warlock head down the corridor before approaching his sister’s chamber. He opened the door and stepped inside. “I’ll never understand what you see in that mortal.”
Angelique chuckled. “What’s the point of taking human form if we don’t realize all the benefits? The female human body has incredibly sensitive erogenous zones that provide a sensuality unlike anything we’ve experienced in our true forms.”
“Bah,” Julian grumbled. “I’m sure you exaggerate, dear sister. The same cannot be said of the human male form, which I find most disappointing.” He glanced at her naked body. “I expected you to be dressed by now. We’re due at the television studio in half an hour.”
“Another boring appearance for the masses. Their constant need for celebrity gods is so tedious.”
“I know, but we both realize the importance of the mortals worshipping the Dark Gods. Without worshippers, our power as deities would wane. Television is an efficacious method to reach hundreds of millions of mortals simultaneously. These mortals are obsessed with celebrity and create cults around the famous. And what is a cult but another word for religion? Dear sister, an hour of our time each night on the talk show circuit translates into millions of faithful followers.”
Angelique slipped on her leather catsuit. “I suppose we are the most telegenic of the Dark Gods. I doubt the mortals would line up to see Thanatos, the god of death or Moros, the god of doom.”
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