by Paul Sating
Something stopped me in the doorway.
I was lingering, suddenly sure I wasn't capable of doing what the Council seemed convinced I could accomplish. They didn't know how horrible of a mistake they made selecting me, though their confidence had fooled me for a while. This was a runaway chimera carriage I was powerless to stop, and the driver wasn't listening to my warning shouts. There was still time to convince them otherwise. They said there would be a final meeting before we began our mission, and I would use that to change their minds about how they saw my role. The realization was sudden and firm. I could not do what they needed me to do.
"Let's go, Ezekial!" Frustration now tainted my father's words.
Closing the door felt like cutting off my playful younger self. As I approached the bottom of the stairs, my parents stood together. Father scowled. My mother's face beamed. The last time I saw her this happy, I was walking down the aisle at graduation from university.
"There he is," she exclaimed, patting my father's hand that held hers. He nodded wordlessly, finally losing the scowl.
"Good morning," I said. "I'm ready if you are."
"I'm so thrilled that we get to attend with you," she said, hugging me.
"So it's not about making sure I actually leave?" I winked as we pulled away.
"It will be fine," my father said in a flat tone. Right now, I would take it; flatness sure beat his typically heated commentary. He grabbed the suitcase and wheeled it out the front door. Mother and I followed, she by my side.
She laid her head on my shoulder as we walked. "I know you're nervous, Ezekial, but you'll see. This isn't something to be frightened of. You're about to be the first in our family to go to the Overworld, to see everything up there, be among the mortals and see how they live. Before long it'll feel normal and you might enjoy it if you try. Both your father and I are extremely proud of you. And we know you will be amazing."
I rested my head against hers. "I wish I had your confidence. It would probably help me do this without embarrassing the family or dying."
She pulled away, looking up at me with a distinct lack of approval at the morbid comment. "Is that how you feel? Do you honestly think you'll embarrass us?"
"It's a thought I've entertained from time to time."
"Well," she said, tugging me to face her, "there's no need to worry about that. You're not an embarrassment. You never were and you most certainly won't be this time." She squeezed my hand when she saw me glance at my father. "I know he's been hard on you, but he has his reasons. I don't always agree with his tactics, but that's how he shows he cares, even though it may not feel like it. Especially when you're the target. He's proud; you can see it on his face. Look at him; he's almost strutting." She giggled like a young succubus as her gaze lingered on my father's backside. My stomach turned.
"I didn't hear you say anything about the dying part," I said, trying to distract myself.
"Because that's not going to happen. You'll be fine. Bilba will be there with you. It will be such an adventure."
I shook my head. "Mother, you can't guarantee that and we need to understand it's a possibility. I could get hurt. I could even die. As you said, no one in our family has been to the Overworld; we can't be sure it's safe."
She waved away my assertion; her face scrunching. "You've heard the reports just like we have. We are a superior species to the humans. They aren't a threat."
"The Council makes those reports," I pointed out. "That doesn't mean they're true."
Now she squirmed, before tugging my hand and rushing to catch my father. "Hush now; we don't need any of that silly talk."
The comment bothered her; I saw it in her insensate expression and sensed it in the way she hurried to get to the departure point. It was a similar reaction to anyone who heard me question the Council. Questioning was just not something demons were very good at. For her, maybe it was a manifestation of self-preservation, something she needed in order to stay strong and sane during this ordeal, I imagined. What I needed was support from my family and an appreciation for the all-too-real possibilities that faced me in the new world.
We walked in silence, only the rattle of suitcase wheels over brimstone serving as a signal that anything was happening with the three of us.
The street began to fill with demons on their way to and from work. Across the street, a small group of imps waited on the school wagon, huddled together, speaking conspiratorially while shooting glances at the adults passing. Further away, a mother kept a young incubus gripped by the bicep after he pulled the pigtails of the succubus who had to be his sister. Another normal day in the Underworld, for everyone but me. Again, I wallowed in the fear of what was about to happen. Everything grew murky. Life was happening for my fellow Fivers who shared this part of the Underworld, but I could not resist feeling detached, almost as if I watched their lives unfold in a movie.
A group of older incubi sat at a table outside a smoke shop, playing a game of Ouija. They were laughing as they competed to see who could send the most creative message to the mortals on the other side, the very species I would soon live amongst. They stopped playing to watch us.
A carriage passed, its occupants staring out the windows until the vehicle took me out of their sight.
Eyes all over me, examining every inch. Word about my selection had spread to the local zone, that much was obvious.
In those eyes, I found validation. One of the Ouija players, a heavy-set demon who leaned on his cane as he sat forward, gave his friends a muted head nod in my direction. Quiet words shared understanding of my treacherous future. My parents could ignore what might happen in the realm of humans all they wanted, but I wouldn't.
We rounded the corner to see a ripple of bright blue energy floating in the middle of a small open square, guarded by large demons armed with broadswords. Their blades burned blue with the flame of the Hellfire. Even from this distance, I could smell the sweetness of the sulfur dioxide the blades gave off. Would the frighteningly open sky of the Overworld smell as good?
A crowd had gathered on all sides of the gateway from which Bilba and I would depart.
Part of me wanted to snap at the crowd, reminding them this was real life, not some performance for their entertainment. But it wasn't their fault. Fivers, at least in this part of the Circle, rarely experienced excitement. The gateway promised a rarity, regardless of the twist of fate it held for me, and they would likely revel in rumor and hearsay as it filled the evening with wondrous possibilities.
I pulled up as my mother and father stopped. No one spoke, but my mother's eyes twinkled with happy tears. My father pulled his shoulders back, lifting his chin as he stared at the scene before us.
"Mother. Father. Whatever happens, I want you to know I'm sorry for the trouble I've given you over the years. I've been a nightmare and me being … being what I am, hasn't been easy for you. But I will make it up to you. I promise."
Mother's eyes wetted. My father stood stoically.
"There's nothing to apologize for," he finally said, his voice tight. "You're a good kid, given a lousy lot in life. But there's a reason for your struggles, a greater purpose. You're about to find out what that is."
My mother kissed me on the cheek. Her lips were wet from her tears. "I love you."
A simple sentiment, but one I needed to hear.
My father cleared his throat and turned away as soon as we made eye contact. I think he was hoping for this moment to be over. Dealing with emotions was not a strength of Kanthor Sunstone, the man who spent his lifetime tending to the Hellfire and making excuses for his inadequate son.
"Let's get a move on," he said. "You don't want to be late on your first day."
Were I Lucifer for a day, I would have made each of these last steps excruciatingly slow so I could enjoy each press of my foot against the familiar brimstone; each wing flap of hundreds of nymphs flitting to wherever nymphs flitted to; each crackle of the tiny flames of the Hellfire that lit the signs and str
eet lamps.
But I wasn't Lucifer and never would be. I was the Segregate, ruled by cruel fate and His Third Council.
A deep breath rattled through me. Hopefully, my return to the Underworld was in Lucifer's plans as well.
We took the last few thousand steps forward as a unified family. As we approached the gateway, it grew not only in immensity but also in population. Beside the pair of dangerous demons guarding it, others stood around the tear in the air, including those from whom I did not need a send-off.
Bilba and Akimon were there, hardly surprising, since he supported Bilba in every way fashionable. They both beamed nearly identical proud smiles similar to those my parents wore since the announcement of my selection. They chattered, with large, jerky gesticulations. This brought a smile to my face in the place of my despair and the flash-fire in my gut at the sight of who else stood by the gateway.
Alone, without his estranged family to accompany him, Ralrek looked me up and down as we approached, clear distaste in his expression. "About time you got here. We've been waiting forever."
8 - Crossing Over
"You didn't need to say goodbye," I said in response to Ralrek's smirk. I didn't care to hide my displeasure at Ralrek and what it meant to have him standing here. There's only so much a demon can deal with, you know? "Though it's sweet to know you'll miss me."
Ralrek waved his hand like he was trying to swat a gnat. "Come off it, Sunstone. Do you think you're the only one deserving this chance? I'm a far-superior caster to you—oh, wait. You're not even a caster. I guess that's why the Council called on me, to protect your sorry ass." His expression changed in an instant as my father and mother neared, acting like he'd been a family friend for the past thousand years. "Good morning, Mister and Misses Sunstone. You must be excited? Big day."
I growled low in my throat. I sent a quick request—demons don't pray—to Lucifer, begging for this to be a bad joke.
My mother had the opposite reaction. "Oh, you're going as well, Ralrek? That is wonderful. It's so nice to know that Ezekial will have two friends with him."
Bilba joined us along with his father, their prideful smiles etched on their round faces. Between them, Ralrek, and my parents, everyone in the small circle acted thrilled by the occasion. Everyone except for me.
Bilba slapped me on the back, projecting me forward. I stumbled a few steps, eliciting snickers and chortles from the gathered throng. "Can you believe it, Zeke? It's happening. We're really about to do this!"
Akimon Ravenous bobbed his head, chin to chest, a few times over. A man of few words and great size, his son took after him in that respect.
"Yeah." It was a simple statement, but I had to say something. My opinion about the matter was still in flux, so sharing my confusion would only draw more coddling from my mother and frustration from my father, all while giving Ralrek more ammunition to terrorize me with. Lucifer, why was he coming too?
One of the gateway guards whistled with two fingers between his lips, creating a reprieve from making a bumbling mess of myself in front of family, friends, and Ralrek. When we turned his way he waved us closer, eyeing the growing throng of bystanders who watched the proceedings with all the joy of imps watching the annual Samhain parade. As we made our way to him, the other guard moved to block the gateway. The one who whistled put up a hand. "Just the three of them." By his tone, he wasn't interested in a debate.
Bilba faced his father. Before I did the same, Ralrek moved off to the side. It brought a smile to my lips to know that his sendoff would be solitary. It sounds petty; I realize that and probably doesn't endear me to you, but Ralrek has tortured me for too many centuries for me to be the bigger demon under the circumstances. Not to play into any stereotypes mortals have about us, but forgiveness isn't necessarily in our nature.
"Come here," my mother pulled me in and held me tight in her thin arms. She sniffled behind the embrace.
I looked over her shoulder to my father. He wore a tightlipped grin, just short of a full smile. It was the first time in a long time he had even attempted to form a smile in response to something I did or that was happening to me. His reaction stirred weird feelings. Self-belief? Pride? Even excitement?
I stepped back, not wanting to draw out this farewell. "Thank you for everything. I promise, I will make you proud. It's long overdue."
Ralrek snickered. I didn't care. This was my moment with my parents and he would not ruin it. Whatever lay ahead, I'm sure he would have plenty of opportunities to make my life a living heaven, but this wasn't one.
"Let's move it, imps." The guard looked less than happy with our delay. I had no idea what the proper protocol was, but our farewells weren't exaggerated. His grim expression told me I would be better off keeping that to myself.
Bilba and I shared a look before I took a tentative step toward the guard, taking a moment to look once more to my parents. The Overworld could wait. I wanted to etch that vision of them in my mind, together, my father's arm around my mother's shoulder and her curling into his chest as she waved. No guard, no matter how large, would deprive me of that.
Breaking eye contact with them was one of the most difficult things I'd ever done. Their lingering eyes were almost tangible as I made my way toward the gateway, which crackled like it was ripping the surrounding air.
With the three of us standing before him, the guard blocking the way turned and stepped through the gateway.
"Move," the remaining guard ordered.
Nothing like being treated like a recruit to Lucifer's Army. So much for any thoughts of prestige at being picked by the Council if simple guards talked to me that way. Drawing a deep, shaky breath, I led the three of us through without looking back. I couldn't.
We stepped into a massive foyer spanning two hundreds yards, interrupted only by planter boxes and sporadic, but deliberately placed couches and tables. Groups of demons dressed in business attire occupied several couches, papers spread across the tables, talking in hushed tones, scribbling notes, rubbing faces, and all the other things that business demons did that reminded me to not be in a hurry to become a professional. The ceiling stretched to the earth's bedrock; I swear. Looking up, the heights blurred into the deep blue glow of the Hellfire's radiance. Rings of floors marked the elevation, each with a walkway facing the interior of the building. Glass half-walls exposed what lay behind. Doors dotted the halls for as high as I could see, and demons scurried around the levels. The foyer and walkways were equally abuzz. The sense hung heavy in the air; important things were happening here.
"Wow," Bilba whispered as he looked up the height of the building towering above us. "This is incredible."
I nodded before having to dodge out of the way of a young succubus who hurried in a straight line, right through the middle of our small group. So intent on getting to where she needed to be, she never lifted her gaze from the scroll in her hands and didn't react after splitting us apart like oil on water.
"Excuse me," I said at her rudeness. She never acknowledged me.
"This place is nuts," Bilba observed. "Where are we?"
"Keep up," the guard in front said without turning, striding across the foyer.
I stretched my stride, closing the distance. Bilba panted, trying to catch up to me trying to catch up to the guard.
"Sir, where we headed?" Ralrek called after the guard.
The question went unanswered. Instead, treating us like half-sized imps, he walked faster.
Bilba groaned.
"This is just the beginning of this wonderful adventure you wanted to go on, remember?" I teased.
"Don't remind me." Bilba grunted as he swerved a small group of incubi who hustled across the foyer, all looking at a scroll the one in the middle held. A harpy hovered over the group leader's shoulder as if she were trying to get a glance at the document. Her wings were broader than the pixies and fairies I was used to seeing around the Fifth, and her body was unclothed. As the group passed, the harpy cast us a glance with her
tiny eyes, glowing green. Bilba flushed. I looked away.
We stopped and watched them pass.
"Was that just a—"
"Yeah," I whispered.
Harpies were not something you saw every day in the Fifth. In fact, I had never seen one. They were real, but they only lived in one place in the Underworld, and that place was somewhere regular demons like us did not go, could not go. Until now.
"Are we where I think we are?" I asked, not expecting an answer from the guard.
He did not give one.
Lucifer's headquarters? I was in Lucifer's blessed headquarters?
Stopping to allow Bilba to catch me, I asked, "Having second thoughts?"
"Are you kidding? This morning couldn't come soon enough."
"I wish I shared your excitement. I thought I was ready, but being here … I just don't know."
Bilba was silent in response besides his rhythmic panting. He glanced around at the nearby guards. Moving closer, he whispered, "No matter what, Zeke, I've got your back. I won't let anything happen to you and I'm sure as heaven not going to allow Ralrek to annoy you."
"Thanks," I replied, doubting his ability to do the latter. "That means a lot. No lie, I'm not looking forward to spending an undetermined amount of time with him." An irresistible smirk curled my lips. "Do you think we could lose him in the Overworld?"
Bilba howled.
"Quiet," the guard snapped, still not turning. "Have some respect for where you are."
Now didn't seem like the time to remind the guard he never told us where they'd taken us. With the hundreds of demons hustling around and above us, we were the least noisy of the building's occupants. But this wasn't our place, and making enemies on my first day was hardly an enticing prospect, especially considering I would need these demons to come through for me if I needed to escape the Overworld and make it back home in one piece.
The guard stopped and waited for us before pointing at the floor. A circular tiled mosaic, at least thirty yards across, lay in the middle of the vast open area encircled by a small sitting wall. "Stand there, on the mark."