To Reign In Hell

by Steven Brust

  She held herself there until her breathing settled, then grasped a ledge in front of her that she'd felt before falling. She hauled herself painfully to her feet.

  From inside her shirt, she removed a small stone that Asmodai had given her. As she brought it forth, a faint glow began within it. Faint as it was, it allowed her to see her surroundings.

  The chamber was even larger than she had imagined it. The ceiling was far beyond the range of her small light, but extended at least to many times her height. The walls appeared dark grey and rocky and uneven. Yet the floor of the cavern was strangely smooth.

  Her eyes were drawn toward the source of the sounds of breathing. She couldn't quite make out anything, so she haltingly stumbled forward.

  After ten paces, she saw the massive object before her—twice her own height in length, half of that in breadth. After another five, she realized that this was only his head.

  Her hand began to shake harder, from reasons having nothing to do with exhaustion.

  She whispered, almost soundlessly, "Belial."

  "Good day, Michael."

  "Wha—?"

  Michael spun and saw Mephistopheles, hands on his hips and smiling, about four paces away.

  "How long have you been behind me?"

  "Most of the day. I would have spoken sooner, but you kept moving faster. I'd have thought you were trying to get away from me if you'd ever looked back."

  "I see," said Michael. He'd been marching with his great sword resting on his shoulder. Now he gripped it with both hands and swung it as he advanced, stopping with the blade a hair's breadth from the other's chest. Someone with keener eyesight than Michael's might have noticed Mephistopheles's face going the least bit pale.

  "Does this gesture mean something, Lord Michael?"

  "Why have you been following me, dark one?"

  "To catch you. It is necessary, you know."

  "You could have hailed me."

  "I did."

  "From farther back!"

  "I dislike shouting."

  Michael bit his lips. "What are you doing here?"

  "Well, we seem to be going in the same direction, and I prefer to walk with company. If you're of like mind, we can solve this problem for each other without discommoding ourselves."

  "My business is my own."

  "Of course. I assure you, I have not the least interest in why you pursue the Lord Satan."

  "How did you know?"

  "Why, Lord Michael, you just told me yourself. But it doesn't concern me. I'm here to visit Leviathan. We're friends."

  "You have friends?"

  'Tsk, Michael. Don't be nasty. Would you mind pointing that somewhere else, by the way?"

  "Yes."

  "Suit yourself. Shall we be going?"

  "Why do you think I'll go anywhere with you, dark one?"

  "Because if you don't, you'll have to destroy me, which you can't justify to yourself, or allow me to follow you, which you wouldn't like at all."

  "I could have you walk in front of me."

  "That will be fine. Although, to think of it, Leviathan might be vexed with you."

  Michael spat and lowered his blade. "Walk to my left, and stay at least two paces off."

  "Certainly." Mephistopheles began whistling tunelessly between his teeth.

  "And don't do that," added Michael.

  "Who's there?" "Hello, Harut. It's me."

  "Well, Lord Satan. Glad you came. The lady, she's been asking about you." "Where is she?"

  "Swimming," said Harut dryly.

  Satan and Beelzebub approached the water's edge. They stood there for several moments before, far out to sea, they saw a long, thin neck with a powerful head break the surface. It scanned the shoreline, and her eyes came to rest upon them. They felt her gaze almost as a physical blow.

  The head dived and, almost at once it seemed, reappeared directly in front of them.

  "Satan," she said, affection coming through her rich, thick voice.

  He bowed deeply. "Greetings, lady. I'm told you wanted to see me; I'm here."

  Her great head nodded. "Who is this, though? This must be Beelzebub, whom Harut and... and others have spoken of."

  Beelzebub inclined his head until his nose touched the ground. "I do greet thee, lady," he said. "In all I have heard of thee there is no ill."

  A sound that was probably chuckling came from her as she nodded slightly in acknowledgement.

  "Well, what can I do for you, Leviathan?"

  She closed her eyes, then opened them and spoke: "I want to know everything that led up to the loss of my friend, Ariel. Everything you know or guess. From the beginning. I ask this as a favor, relying on old friendships which, I know, are falling apart all around. But, please, tell me."

  "And tell me, too, if you would."

  They spun. Asmodai had spoken, and Lucifer was standing next to him.

  Leviathan stared at the newcomers, and took in Beelzebub and Satan, who faced them in an attitude of alert anticipation, as if they were expecting an attack.

  "Lucifer," she said, "I withhold my greeting until I know why you are here. You are in my Regency now, and the Lord Satan is my guest. If you mean any ill toward him, you should leave."

  Lucifer bowed. "I mean no ill toward my friend Satan, and I hope I may continue to call him that. I understand why he may think otherwise, but I pledge that this is not the case. I, too, have a story to tell that may have some bearing. I ask only that you listen."

  "And I," said Asmodai, "ask that you don't."

  "What?" said the others as one voice.

  He turned toward Lucifer. "You aren't thinking. We don't have time for this; they'll be here soon."

  "Who will?" said Leviathan, raising her head higher and looking past them.

  "I don't know exactly, but—well, I think I'd better tell you this much of the story. If we have time."

  Asmodai began speaking, closing his eyes often to remember details. For as much as he was going to tell now, it was important that the got it right.

  She screamed it, finally. For ten minutes that had felt like an eternity, she had been saying it in gradually louder tones. Finally, she threw her head back and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  "BELIAL! AWAKE!"

  By some ancient property of the chamber, no doubt left from the Third Wave, her voice seemed to come back to her from the walls. She thought that nothing would happen, but then the great beast stirred. A tremor seemed to move down the length of its body—or as much of its body as she could see.

  After a moment, one great eye opened. She had the sudden feeling that she could walk into the pupil and be lost.

  He saw her, suddenly. His voice came as a low, rumbling sound, as if from out of the ground: "Who?"

  Lilith felt ridiculous. "I'm Lilith," she said.

  "Who?" he repeated.

  "I'm a friend of the Lord Satan, who needs your help, and the Lord Lucifer, who sent me.

  His eye closed again, then opened.

  "What?" came the great voice.

  "They need your help. Please."

  "Where?"

  "The Western Regency," she said. "And hurry, please! They are in danger."

  She would never, in all of her existence, have believed that he could move so quickly. Suddenly he was up, two massive legs supporting him. He looked down at her for a moment, then his great head lowered. At first she thought that he was going to destroy her. Then she thought he was bowing.

  But his head came down next to her until it touched the ground.

  "Get on," he said. Trembling, she did.

  Zaphkiel reported, "I saw five angels by the water, lord. I don't think they saw me."

  "Describe the terrain."

  "There is a path," said Zaphkiel, "that begins about two leagues from here. It is narrow at first; then, after half a league, it expands to a width such that ten may walk abreast. Then, after another league it opens up into a cleft that is perhaps three leagues deep and two wide.
There, all is flat, and there I saw Leviathan, Beelzebub, and three others, all speaking together. If we emerge there, they will see us at once."

  "Are there any other features to the cleft?"

  "There is a narrow path on the other side, wide enough for three, that goes for two leagues and opens out onto a large plain. This plain is hidden from the cleft itself."

  Abdiel contemplated. "Not wide enough," he said.

  Abdiel motioned Zaphkiel back, then turned to the angels behind him and motioned them to gather round. As they did so, he desperately tried to figure out what to do.

  "All right," he said at last, "you ten in front. If you see the Lord Satan, point him out to," he motioned again, "you ten. You'll have the chain." There were clinking sounds as the chain was passed. "Get him manacled. The rest of you, ah, make sure no one interferes. If the Lord Satan isn't there," he added, "don't do anything. I'll explain."

  Without giving them time to think about his plan, he held his sword up, and brought it sweeping down. Somewhat to his surprise, the two hundred Thrones ran past him, yelling at the top of their lungs.

  "Odd," he told himself. "I wouldn't do that."

  As the last of them passed, he fell in and brought up the rear.

  "Kyriel?" "Hmmmm?"

  "Does the Lord Yaweh seem—different?" "Different how?"

  "I'm not sure. But he seems to have changed, somehow." "I'm not sure what you mean."

  "He seems to be more, well, active. I'm not sure that's the right word."

  "Nervous?"

  "Maybe that's it."

  "The way he keeps pacing back and forth?"

  "Yeah."

  "Or grabbing those papers and looking through them?"

  "Yeah."

  "Or demanding to see Raphael, and talking to her for two minutes, then forgetting about her and starting something else?"

  "That's right."

  "I hadn't noticed."

  "Huh."

  Then, "You know, Kyriel?"

  "Vaguely."

  "Shut up. You know, I'm getting worried."

  "Me too."

  "I'm starting to think about what you said, way back, about running off somewhere."

  "What about it?"

  "Well, if someone showed up, like Lord Asmodai, well, I wouldn't let him attack Lord Yaweh, but I wouldn't feel good about attacking him, either."

  "Well... neither would I."

  "So what do we do about it?"

  "Things can't last like this."

  "I guess not. But what if they do?"

  "Hmmmm. Ask me again in a few days."

  "I will."

  Too many sensations. Her eyes flickered from the mountains, rivers, and plains below her—those tiny figures were angels?—to Belial's mighty wings at her sides. The motions, like walking into a heavy wind, but more, and the feeling of Belial churning beneath her, almost like a lover. His hard, cool scales against her hands; biting wind against her cheeks.

  The sound of the air in her ears; Belial's musky odor. Fear and exhilaration. Joy, and—

  Below her, a new sight. She wondered if she had come too late.

  "What's that?"

  Asmodai, interrupted by Lucifer's exclamation, stopped and looked. He didn't see anything, but he began to hear something like shouts in the distance.

  Leviathan raised her head. "Angels," she said. "More than a hundred. They're heading this way and waving sticks. Metal sticks, I think. Odd."

  Satan turned, his hand going to the emerald at his breast. Beelzebub rose and stood next to him. Asmodai stood with his hands behind his back, inside his cloak, fumbling at something. Lucifer drew the wand from his side.

  The Thrones came into view around a rocky structure several hundred paces away. They kept appearing for quite a while, yelling and waving their swords over their heads.

  "More like two hundred," observed Lucifer.

  'Two hundred angels," said Asmodai. "Against two archangels and three Firstborn. This could be interesting." From behind his back he brought a short rope, which he began whirling over his head. After a couple of turns it began to emit a soft red glow. As he spun it faster, the red became brighter. Then Asmodai moved his arm and wrist until the rope was spinning in front of him.

  "Something new," commented Lucifer.

  The distance between them closed. Leviathan reared up and opened her mouth. Her teeth were very white.

  But even as the distance closed to nothing, there was a sound which made everyone look up. A great bellow, louder than anyone had heard between Waves, came from the sky.

  Those in the front ranks of the charging angels faltered, and those behind them ran into them. And so on.

  From above, a great dark shape was descending, gouts of flame appearing from its mouth.

  "Belial!" cried Leviathan.

  "Belial!" cried Satan.

  "Lilith!" cried Lucifer, seeing the small form perched atop Belial's neck.

  Down and down he came, and the two hundred Thrones turned and scattered, leaving their swords here and there about the field. As they scattered, a long figure was revealed standing near where the rear of the troop had been. Satan would not have noticed him, except that Beelzebub suddenly stiffened at his side and growled.

  Separated by three hundred paces, Satan saw him, and, from that distance, their eyes locked. Satan and Beelzebub began walking forward, slowly and evenly. Abdiel turned and broke into a run.

  Satan and Beelzebub began jogging, letting Abdiel get ahead for now, content to allow him to exhaust himself. They were willing to follow him forever.

  For a few minutes they lost sight of him, as he passed through the pathway. But then they found him again, still running, only now he seemed exhausted.

  He looked over his shoulder, apparently saw that they were gaining on him, stopped, and waited. As they got close, they could see he was trembling, his eyes wide and vacant.

  Zaphkiel suddenly appeared beside him, leaping down from the rocks above, still holding a sword.

  Without a word being spoken, Beelzebub stepped up ahead of Satan and crossed in front of him, so he was opposite Zaphkiel.

  It was the same thing, in miniature, that had happened before. Each side waited for the gap to close. On the other side of the path, Belial was spouting flame and holes appeared in the rock walls and the ground. Behind them, Lucifer and Asmodai had finally seen what was going on and were moving forward.

  Then, as if by prearranged signal, Beelzebub and Satan sprang. Zaphkiel held his blade before him, but Beelzebub leapt under it and was upon him.

  Satan dived for Abdiel's throat and would have had it except that Abdiel, screaming, fell over backward, leaving Satan above him.

  Satan reached for his throat and—

  "Look out!" called Lucifer behind him.

  Satan ducked and twisted. Michael stood beside him, his great sword swinging. Then Mephistopheles caught Michael squarely in the back with both hands. Michael stumbled forward, and his sword, with all of his strength behind it, struck the ground.

  There was a sound like a thunderclap. All of Heaven seemed to shake, and there was a flash of light, blinding and white, from where the sword had struck. Satan had a confused glimpse of Michael flying through the air over his head and Belial tumbling toward the ground out of control, then all was darkness.

  Chapter Eight

  But certainly, if I am not mistaken, it was just before the coming of Him who took the souls from Limbo that all Hell was shaken so that I thought the universe felt love and all its elements moved toward harmony whereby the world of matter, as some has often plunged to chaos...

  —Dante, Inferno.

  Canto xii:37-43

  Michael never lost consciousness. As the ground split before him, he was in midair, hurled by the force of the explosion.

  "I don't know my own strength," he muttered, which was the first time that line was used.

  He landed hard, and was recovering his breath when a sudden flood picked him up and c
arried him inland. He was able to control himself well enough to avoid the occasional obstacle that appeared in his way.

  After a few leagues, he found that his feet were beginning to touch the ground. After another couple, he stood up, waist-deep in water.

  It was, he decided, going to be a long walk in water. He shrugged. Satan had either survived—or not. For now, Michael must return to the Palace, defeated again.

  He looked at his sword for the first time since the explosion and saw that it had taken no damage. He rested it on his shoulder and began slogging his way toward the center of Heaven.

  Belial was thrown out of control by the explosion. He had nearly hit the ground when he recovered, his great wings straining to cup the air.

  He managed to halt himself before hitting and began to work his wings to climb when he heard a cry from the small angel on his neck. Abruptly, he felt lighter, and he saw her dive into the waters below him.

  He wondered at this, but had no time to do anything about it.

  He was curious, however, about the sound of Lilith's scream. He wondered what "Harut" meant.

  Satan woke to the sound of rushing water, the taste of salt, and the feel of a sharp pain in his right calf. He realized that he was moving quickly, and along with this awareness came a mouth full of sea water.

  He forced himself up, choking and spitting, and looked at his leg, which had miraculously stayed above the surface.

  The reason for the pain and buoyancy was obvious at once: Beelzebub had fastened himself to Satan's leg with his teeth.

  Beelzebub looked at him apologetically, but couldn't speak. Satan gave him a brief smile and looked around.

  He noticed, with more than passing interest, that they would soon collide with a large boulder, directly in the path of the waters.

  He gave this his full attention.

  Lucifer saw the explosion and was knocked to his knees.

  He heard the sounds from behind him, turned, and saw the waves rushing in. He grabbed Asmodai with his left hand and pointed as he stood up.

  Asmodai's eyes widened as he saw the wave towering over them; then he began twirling his rope again. Lucifer raised his wand over his head, and a scarlet glow issued forth that formed a shield above them.