The angel nodded, following the demon out of the sandstone corridors into more of a traditional black marble hall veined through with all the colors of the rainbow. The beauty stopped him for a moment before he picked up his pace, following the demon deeper into Hell.
The monotony of the black marble halls were interrupted by random pits from which moans, curses or pleas emerged as the inhabitants sensed someone passing by. Asmoday primarily ignored the sounds, gesturing every now and again to the imps and demons attending to the tortures. A huge stone arch rose just past another huge crater, pale smoke rising from the depths. They passed through the archway and Rue stumbled as bright sunshine hit him like a blow to the brain. He reeled at the threshold of the cavern, shielding his eyes, feeling his wings beat in confusion at his back.
Asmoday gave an oily little chuckle and one last acid comment, “I can’t stand all the smarminess here.” He clapped Rue on the shoulder. “You can find your way back to the Gate, right?” A puff of acrid black smoke and the demon vanished.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Be welcome, brother,” the voice emanated out of the light. Rue shook his head, squinting. The being came into focus: a slender female angel, her golden hair like a fall of sunlight down the back of her silver garments.
“I am no brother of yours,” he grated, then wanted to bite his tongue. He was there to beg a favor. He would need to remember his manners. Old habits died hard. He bowed his head, “My apologies. I came to see Semiazas.”
Her eyes glittered though with temper or anticipation he couldn’t tell. “Are you Ruvan, Guard of the Gate?”
He wished for a moment that he could lie. “Yes. I am Rue.”
She nodded, then gestured for him to follow. “This way. Semazias is waiting for you.”
He longed to ask her how Sem knew he was coming, then frowned at his own foolishness. The original vial of miracles had come from this shining island, if Asmoday could be believed. Gossip spread through Hell quicker than through an all girls’ high school, he knew. Sem would know that he had used the vial not on Serafina, but on another.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts to look around. Very few had ever seen the Fallen Isles. He couldn’t quite believe that such beauty existed here in Hell. Tall slender trees with feathery leaves and white bark carpeted the hills to the left. To the right, the tide of a silvery sea lapped at a shore of sugar white sand. Gray peaks rose before him, the road spiraling around and around the outer edge of the tallest of the peaks. A golden sunset glowed perpetually in the west.
And angels.
Everywhere he looked he could see angels. Two with dove gray wings leapt playfully from tree to tree. A handful of others, their wings and hair pastel shimmers, cavorted in the surf, pale slender limbs tangled together in wild abandon. He halted. Shock rocked him on his heels for a moment.
“The answer is yes.” The deep voice startled him and he swung around. Semiazas. He recognized the king of the dark angels: wings of grey and black, deep red hair and golden eyes. He was a legend among the judges having been one of the first of them, one of the best of them before he’d walked away from the judges and through the Gates of Hell. He’d never returned. He’d struck a bargain with Lucivar, the original fallen one, and he’d established these Isles. The Isles had stood for a millennium as both haven and temptation.
He continued, “Yes, you would feel as you did on earth here.” He gestured to the sun-washed sky. “It is our own Eden here in the darkness.” He flared his shadowy wings. “Yet you would not need to give up your wings to have it.”
Rue’s guide slid in close, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips brushed feather- light kisses against his jaw, making him stiffen. He should have felt nothing more than the faint pressure of her against him. Her caress should have roused in him no reaction other than annoyance, yet desire spiraled through him, weighing down his body, catching in his throat. “You could choose from amongst us a mate worthy of you,” she breathed, flicking her tongue over his lips. “You would learn delights not known on the earth.” She wrapped around him like a clinging vine, her wings blocking the king of the fallen from his view.
The last time he’d felt his body tighten came back to him. A vision of red hair, green eyes and a small smile flashed into his mind’s eye chilling him. He shoved the female away. She stumbled, batting her wings to keep from falling over the edge of the path, a grin on her face. “Or those instincts and pleasures as well can be indulged.” She laughed and swooped away.
“Forgive Varisily,” Sem gestured to where the female had disappeared. “She’s only been here a century or so. She hasn’t gotten to the end of her indulgences yet and settled down.”
“And do they?” he asked, following Sem into a high-ceilinged cave.
“They do, usually.” He offered Rue a seat on a plush low couch before a dancing fire.
“Can I interest you in something to drink? Eat?” A small white lizard with silver eyes scuttled from the corner to stand at attention at the table side.
He shook his head. He was too well-versed in the legendry of Hell and had no intention of eating or drinking anything and risking being trapped for any amount of time.
Sem dismissed the lizard with a wave of his hand. “Well, you’re no fool no matter what Asmoday might think.” He leaned forward to steeple his hands on his knees. His wings folded gracefully at his back to drape on the silver-flecked gray stone floor. “You’d be welcome here, Rue.” He waved to the plush cave and to the door beyond. “You’ve tasted the gifts of the flesh. Here, you could have that all back and keep your wings too.”
Rue shook his head. “It’s not just the pleasure, my lord. It’s the love that comes with it. I don’t know if I could ever make you understand.”
“The woman is doomed.” Those golden eyes, so like the eyes of Simeon, the dark angel’s brother, pinned him. “Doomed by your hand, I believe.” He leaned back. “Noble, sacrificing and foolish.” He reached out and took a handful of purple grapes from a crystal bowl on the low stone table.
Fear clutched Rue’s insides. “Then you have no more vials of miracles?”
Semiazas snorted, popped a grape in his mouth. “You should know as well as I that miracles are difficult to come by.” He shook his head. “No, I have no vial of miracles left to give to you.” Scorn tinged his tone. “What would you do with it anyway? Leave it on her table with a ‘drink me’ note on it like something out of Alice in Wonderland? Or would you personally deliver it, save her life, then fade out of that life to leave her for an eternity facing the depraved souls at Hell’s Gate? Knowing the entire time that the woman you loved, the woman who gave you back the compassion you needed for your duty, was in another man’s arms? Holding another man’s child?” Another grape was crushed between his teeth.
Despair and a deep sadness welled in Rue. Here he could feel so much. At Hell’s Gate, when he was at the edges of the Realms, he felt nothing but the palest imitations of the emotions he’d reveled in on Earth. Here, though, in the cursed golden light of the fallen ones’ realm every feeling cut like steel.
Sem pressed relentlessly on. “How much better would it be to let her die? Let Azrael take her to her eternal reward. Let her bask in Heaven’s light and lose yourself here?” He accepted a delicate glass goblet from another lizard creature that scuttled back in the room. He sipped. “Pleasures abound here. Here you will forget the mortal, yet still enjoy those lessons she taught you.”
A small cough sounded at the door. They turned. Another angel, his wings the color of burnished copper, stood looking faintly embarrassed. “Semiazas,” he began and bowed. “I crave your indulgence, but we have an issue in the lower forests.” He glanced over his shoulder and Rue heard and felt an explosion rock the mountain. Pebbles and rocks fell and bounced from the ceiling.
Sem rolled his golden eyes. “I’ll be right back.” He gestured to the little lizard creature. “If you desire anything simply request it of Kiz here.” He smiled.
“If you require anything at all.”
A rush of wings and Sem and the messenger took off. Rue sat, eyes on the dancing flames in the white marble hearth. Fina dead, not supportable. Fina alive, but with another. He shook his head. Sem was right. He was a fool. He wished he could go back in time... and what? Let Joss die? No. That wasn’t an option either.
Impossible.
The sound of someone clearing their throat nearby had Rue dragging himself out of his despair to look around. “My lord,” the lizard Kiz stood at his side, its wide gray eyes trained on his face. “Ask, my lord.” It nodded, one paw gesturing. “The lord said ask for anything.”
Realization dawned. “You mean... anything?”
Kiz’s mouth dropped open in what he assumed was a smile. “Yes,” it hissed, “anything.”
“Then you know about the vial of miracles?” The little creature nodded. He cast a look over his shoulder to the open door. It remained empty. Kiz waggled a claw, indicating for him to follow. “It really came from here? Asmoday didn’t lie?”
It shook its head. “No, not about that. It came from here.”
He followed Kiz down a smooth floored white hall, dancing silver lights lighting their way to a large brass bound door. A ring of keys appeared in the creature’s hand. With a muffled jingle the door opened and Kiz waved Rue in. A huge glass fronted chest, lit from within, dominated the far wall of what appeared to be an office.
“It amuses the lord to play at being master here.” Derision dripped from the little creature’s words. He crossed to the chest, jingled out another key, reached in for a small golden vial. “Here, my lord. They are playing games and I have never approved of playing when all the players don’t know the rules or the stakes.” With no more explanation of those cryptic words, Kiz handed him the potion. The vial of miracles lay warm in Rue’s hand. A few more moments had the chest and brass bound door locked. Kiz walked him back to the main room. “And that, my lord, is what you could expect if you came to live here as well.”
“So, all of the lodgings are similar?”
Kiz nodded, gestured him back into the room, bowing to Semiazas. “Yes, my lord, and all of your own as well. There is no need to share with others, as I have heard you must in the heavenly realms.”
“I see Kiz has given you the tour?” Sem smiled at Rue, his golden eyes alight. “What do you think?” He gestured at the richly appointed living space. “It is a far cry from the accommodations at the Gate, isn’t it?”
“That is the truth.”
“Well,” Sem clapped him on the shoulder, “think about it.” He walked him to the doorway. “Just look, Ruvan, look at everything you could have.” He snapped his fingers and Varisily appeared. “See him back to the borders.”
“My pleasure, my lord.” She dipped a low bow.
Rue shook his head. “No, I can make it there myself. Besides,” he said, allowing his wonder at the Fallen Isles to echo in his voice, “I want to have a closer look at some things here.”
Sem nodded. “Take your time.” One side of his mouth tipped up in a small smile. “I understand that it can be overwhelming. Walk among your brothers and sisters. Talk to them. Ask them questions. Feel free to come back and ask me anything. Consider the Fallen Isles your home.”
Rue bowed. “My thanks, Lord Semiazas. I will think long and hard on what you have said and what I have seen.” He bowed again and backed down the twisting white trail, the vial of miracles heavy in the fold of his tunic next to his heart.
* * * *
“He took it, my lord.” Kiz served up another glass of wine and a plate of delicate sparrow hearts.
“Excellent.” Sem speared one of the hearts. “Ah, Kiz, just the way I like them—still beating.”
“I am ever here to serve you, my lord.” The creature bowed and began to withdraw, stopping when the dark angel raised a hand.
“You are happy here?”
“Yes, my lord. My brethren and I never quite fit with the others in the pits.” He shrugged. “You have given us a home in the light. You allow us to serve the shining ones. We do not have to torture souls or deal with the abuse of the greater demons.” He bowed. “You are kind, my lord, kind and wise.”
“And just,” Sem insisted. He swirled the wine in his glass, speared another still beating heart, bringing the meaty little morsel to his lips. “I have not fallen so far.” The coppery burst of blood spilled over his tongue, settling a hunger far deeper than for mere food. “I may bow to the true Fallen One, but I myself have not fallen so far.”
Kiz bowed, snagging the empty plate and glass in his claws. “It is as you say, my lord,” he whispered, withdrawing.
“No,” Sem insisted, “I am still what I once was.” A tiny thread of doubt bloomed in his heart. Asmoday had wanted Rue stalled in the Fallen Isles, knowing that time moved differently in Hell than on earth or in heaven. Knowing the judge would have a difficult time finding his way back to the Gate. The Lord of Hell had asked that Rue be tempted and tempted he had been. Sem had seen many angels fall, their fortitude giving way to the seductions of the Fallen Isles. Hadn’t he, himself, once one of the Archangels, one of heaven’s princes, been tempted into leaving behind the warmth of heaven’s light for the cold light of the Isles and the comfort of power?
A cold comfort right now. He closed his eyes, tipped back his head, the long forgotten feeling of the light of heaven’s love warm in his memories. Even after all these centuries, he could still remember, ever so faintly, what it felt like to be in the circle of the true light.
* * * *
Rocks shifted and slipped under his feet. The corridor tilted under him, sliding him toward the pit. He batted his wings, lifted free from the pavement, hovered as the imps and prisoners snarled and clawed the air. He thought he and Asmoday had passed this way before, but he couldn’t be sure. He pressed his hand to the cold slimy rainbow flecked stone. He remembered this shining stone. He remembered the creatures in the pits and the demons jabbing at them. But, he whirled in place, it hadn’t gone on for this long, had it?
A nasty chuckle echoed, sounded behind him. Rue called his sword, the shining celestial blade cut through the imp’s cloak of shadows. “Speak,” he ordered.
The imp cringed away from the blade. “Lost, ain’t ya?” it sneered, large protruding tusks dripping with slaver. “I could show you to the Gate.” Two yellow moon eyes, one larger than the other, scanned Rue from halo to toe. “You’re one of the judges, ain’t ya?”
“Point the way to the Norse Hel. I can find my way from there.”
The twisted little creature was shaking his head before Rue had even speaking. “The Hells move, you fool.” He rolled those yellow eyes. “Didn’t you see how they twisted round each other when you was being shown down here?” He shook his head. “You’re all fools, but I’ll show you the way out.”
Rue narrowed his own eyes. “What do you want for it?”
The imp shook his head. “Nothin.” He stumped along in front of the angel. “Asmoday told me to look for you. He said let you stumble along for a while, but to get you back to the Gate before you got into too much trouble.” Rue seemed to have to choice but to follow the little creature. “You’re too good,” he sneered, “to wander around here. You creatures always get into trouble.” He muttered, “Letting the souls out, telling the demons to lay off on the tortures….”
The stone changed under his feet to wood. He peered into the shadows of the Yggsdrasil tree searching for the Norns. This time he would ask, but he saw no one. If the hags were there, they stayed well out of sight. The Fields of Asphodel and the Pits of Tartarus came into view. The little imp stumped along before him, muttering, occasionally slapping at the hands that poked from between bars or up from pits in supplication.
The imp came to a halt, digging his horny little feet into the slimy soil at the edge of the River Styx. “This is as far as I can go,” he said. “Asmoday only gave me leave to get you here.” He pointed across the river.
“The Gate’s that way.”
Rue nodded. “Thank –”
The imp bared his teeth. “Don’t bother,” he grated, turned and stalked away.
Charon’s boat bumped to shore, his chains rattling with impatience. Rue stepped into the boat, allowing the ferryman to take him back to where he belonged. He reached into his tunic, wrapping his hand around the vial. It burned, hot against his hand. He would save Serafina. That much he knew. There was no future for him at the Gate, in the Fallen Isles, or on earth without her alive and well. He didn’t care if Sem was right – if he were a fool for saving her and walking away. He would save her and then he would go somewhere for a while, somewhere to think. He remembered Nathanial telling him of his time on the earth. After he’d lost his love, he spent quite a while walking the earth, thinking. Rue had done too much reacting and certainly not enough thinking. He knew Nathanial wouldn’t begrudge him the time.
The boat bumped against the far shore. The lonely stretch of black sand and stone wound through the antechamber of Hell to the flaming Gate. Even from here, Rue could see the flicker of fire in the distance. He nodded his thanks to Charon, who pushed away from the edge without a flicker of emotion.
Yes, Rue decided as he walked, he’d go away for a while to think. He’d seen the Fallen Isles now. He wanted to sit in the Hall of Heaven at the feet of the Lord’s throne and bask in its healing light. He wanted the light of heaven to wash away the guilt and pain from his soul. He wanted to see the mountains again. He wanted to watch the sun rise over the sea and the Northern Lights dance on the ice. He wanted to weigh his options and sort everything out knowing that Nathanial understood and Serafina was safe.
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