Hell's Pawn

by Jay Bell

  “Freya saw us. She knows we didn’t do this!”

  J ohn could see the goddess from the corner of his eye. S he mouthed the word

  “O din” to him and his stomach sank. S he wouldn’t vouch for them unless he told her where Odin was. She still believed he knew.

  “I don’t know!” John moaned.

  Thor’s face was grim. “You shall share Loki’s fate.”

  “I f I could kill a god, I ’d kill you!” J ohn snarled. “I ’d take that hammer and shove it up your ass!”

  Thor’s eyes flashed with fury before giving way to amusement. He bellowed with laughter as he dropped J ohn to his feet, clapping him on the shoulder and almost sending him flying.

  “Now you are talking sense!” the great god boomed. “Here! Have this back!” He picked up John’s arm and handed it to him.

  John took it by the hand, feeling both grateful and repulsed.

  “J ust hold it to yourself,” Dante said, suddenly next to him. His accent was gone again, the shadows deep across his face. Was that a glint of red in his eye?

  J ohn shuddered, the discomfort of being incomplete returning now that he was no longer in danger. Following Dante’s instruction, he pressed the two severed parts together, trying not to focus on the perfect cross-section of bone and muscle visible where his limb had been torn. At least it wasn’t oozing with blood. As soon as the torn areas reached each other, they snapped seamlessly together like two a racting magnets, and John’s discomfort abated.

  “Perhaps they are telling the truth,” Freya said, a trace of apology in her voice. “Not only regarding Loki, but more. I asked them about Odin.”

  “You were not to speak of that!” Thor rumbled.

  “B ut I did, and they know nothing. None who have come here since have known.

  W hy have they made no demands? How could any of them have taken O din against his will?” Freya nodded toward L oki’s remains. “No visiting demon has ever held such power. A truce may be the only way to find your father.”

  “S he has a point,” Hodur said. The blind god was kneeling and examining L oki’s body. “We’ve never seen anything like this before. L oki will pull himself together again, but he’ll need time. W orship from his followers will help, but this isn’t a state I would want to experience.”

  “A truce,” Thor said musingly.

  “Hm? W hat is this?” Hodur poked a finger into L oki’s body, leaping away from it when something stirred. The flesh shifted and parted as a figure pulled itself free, rising from the remains like the dead from the grave. C overed in blood, its perfect features were sculpted crystal.

  J ohn’s stomach turned as the glass man stepped toward them, glops of muscle and tissue sliding off its slick body.

  “There will be no truce,” the Minister of Order declared, raising a hand.

  Dante threw himself at L oki’s killer, his head aglow. This time J ohn didn’t shield his eyes as fire erupted from Dante’s mouth. The flames cascaded around the M inister, the remaining gore on its body sizzling and popping. W hen Dante’s assault ceased, the Minister showed no sign of damage.

  The glass lips smirked as its other hand rose. The air began to hum, a terrible power building in the air that had the potential to destroy them all.

  “There will be no truce,” the glass man repeated.

  Thor’s hammer flew through the air, striking the M inister in the chest and sha ering him into hundreds of pieces. The air fell silent after the tinkling shower of glass se led to the ground.

  R elief only lasted a moment as the fallen shards began to spin and grow, their shape shifting, elongating, and unfolding at a terrible speed until each became a grinning glass skeleton. In the blink of an eye, an army of skeletons blossomed into existence.

  Despite being outnumbered, the Norse gods didn’t hesitate. They launched into ba le. Thor’s hammer returned to his hand, swinging in every direction and sha ering translucent bones. Frigg moved gracefully, striking each opponent’s weak point with two fingers and causing them to sha er. Freya became a falcon of enormous proportions, crushing skeleton after skeleton with her beak and talons while Hodur unleashed a barrage of arrows, each finding its target’s joints and reducing the skeletons to piles of bone. E ven Dante joined the fray, his fire more effective against the Minister’s weakened form.

  All J ohn could do was duck and clutch B olo as the ba le raged around them. He had never seen anything like it. The skeletons barely stood a chance. I f Hell wanted an army, they wouldn’t need anything more than the Norse gods.

  The ba le was over almost as soon as it began. The remains of the skeletons were powdered, molten, and broken, but none of them moved anymore.

  “Are there more of these glass creatures to be fought?” Thor asked, brow creased in thought. “Would joining with Hell mean more such battles?”

  “I’m afraid so,” John answered.

  The thunder god’s grin was victorious. “Excellent!”

  Chapter Seven

  The driver’s seat of the steam coach creaked as Dante se led into place. W ith the Norse gods agreeing to join forces with Hell, all that remained was to report back to Hell, but how? As usual, Dante had chimed in with information he couldn’t possibly have known.

  “You’re sure this will work?” John asked.

  “S top worrying,” Dante said. “M y soul will be ripped back to Hell, just like before, except now I ’ll be hauling you and the whole coach along with me. You can thank me by getting in the carriage and pulling the knob so we can return to civilization.” J ohn didn’t move. “You’ve taken it all in stride,” he said. “The whole fire-breathing thing, I mean.”

  Dante shrugged. “I didn’t hear you complaining when I was saving our asses. S o maybe there are strange all-knowing voices coming out of my mouth, but they haven’t done us wrong, have they?”

  “I suppose not, but aren’t you curious as to where these mysterious powers come from?”

  “I t’s probably standard fare for the denizens of Hell.” Dante crossed his arms. “O r maybe I’m just gifted. Take your pick.”

  “Right,” John snorted. “Enough games. You can come out now.” Nothing happened, other than Dante looking at John like he was crazy.

  “Come on, Rimmon,” John said. “I know it’s you in there.” Dante was about to retort when his eyes went wide and his face turned red. The I rishman groaned and fainted, his head lolling to one side, leaving R immon’s head in its place. The demon stood, his body stepping out of Dante’s as if he were stepping off an elevator. Unlike the unpleasant arrival of the glass man, R immon’s exit didn’t appear to harm Dante. The incubus hopped gracefully off the coach, flashing a wink at J ohn and giving B olo a pat or two before turning his a ention back to Dante. Then he began strapping the unconscious Irishman into the driver’s seat.

  “Possession?” John asked as he watched.

  “Yes. Very astute of you.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Fine.” Rimmon nodded, as he finished his work. “He’ll get used to this.” R immon moved to the coach door and gestured for J ohn to enter, sweeping in after him and whistling for B olo to follow. O nce they were all seated, he pulled the lever that set the coach moving. J ohn ignored the scenery whizzing by as he unleashed an onslaught of questions.

  “So you were with us the entire time?”

  “It would seem so.”

  The incubus smiled, causing mixed reactions inside J ohn, but he refused to be so easily manipulated.

  “Did he know?”

  “Dante? Obviously not.”

  “So you were sent to spy on us?”

  “M y assignment was to bring back an accurate report of the situation in Asgard and to assist should your souls be endangered.” R immon reached out to scratch B olo behind the ear. “I’d say I did a commendable job, wouldn’t you?” J ohn had to agree. He had made short work of the ice giant and helped finish off the glass skeletons. “Why all the secrecy, though? Why didn
’t you make yourself known?”

  “You said it yourself. You aren’t an agent of Hell, and we didn’t know if we could trust you. Well, I did,” the demon back-tracked, “but management wasn’t so certain.

  Thus my orders were to remain incognito and to observe.”

  “And if I hadn’t been trustworthy, what were your orders then?”

  “Don’t try to villainize me, J ohn. I went out of my way to reveal myself to you. Do you really believe I can’t fake an I rish accent?” S uddenly R immon sounded exactly like Dante. “O r do you think that all demons just happen to speak American E nglish?” His voice sounded normal again. “As an incubus, I use the language and accent most appealing to you. All part of the seduction game.”

  R immon fixed J ohn with a suggestive gaze that made his entire body smolder, but J ohn gathered his willpower to resist. E ventually he managed to lock his arms over his chest and turn his focus to the window. I f Hell was looking for a pawn to be played, they wouldn’t find one in him.

  “Forgive me,” R immon said, the pressure abating. “As I said, I wanted you to discover the truth, and given your inquisitive nature, had no doubt that you would.

  Although I must admit, I hoped you would be a little more happy to see me.” J ohn hid his smile. “Now that you’re out in the open and I ’ve proven myself trustworthy, you can go without possessing Dante on the next mission.”

  “Mission?”

  “I thought there would be more. Asmoday mentioned multiple realms.”

  “Yes! O f course. I ’m just surprised you are willing to continue. Your dog was almost eaten by an ice giant and your arm ripped off by a god, before you came face to face with your worst fear again.”

  “I t wasn’t so bad.” J ohn gave a nervous laugh. “R eally, for the first time since coming here, I felt alive again.”

  And it was true. P urgatory was dull by definition, and even a night in Hell had left J ohn feeling directionless. Unlike Dante, he wanted more from the afterlife than booze and sex. Their adventure in Asgard had been the first taste of something more. J ohn had a purpose again, and he didn’t want to lose that.

  His only concern was knowing which side he was fighting on. As much as he despised the M inisters of O rder, he wasn’t truly convinced that Hell was the sort of realm he wanted to be associated with. As if on cue, the coach juddered to a halt, the glow of the red light district filling the cabin.

  “That was fast.”

  “Dante belongs here much more than the previous driver did in Asgard,” R immon said. “I ’m surprised we weren’t here sooner. Try to revive him if you can, and maybe explain about the possession. He may take the news be er from you. M eanwhile, I ’ll give my report to Asmoday.”

  * * * * *

  “But he’s a gay demon!” Dante protested half an hour later.

  Asmoday rolled all three of his eyes in response. “He’s not gay or straight, you idiot!

  He’s an incubus!”

  Dante slumped in his chair and glared at J ohn accusingly. J ohn wished that Delilah was in Asmoday’s office as she had been the last time. They could use her charms about now.

  “L ast time I checked,” Dante said, “when a bloke sleeps with another bloke, it means he’s bent. That’s the only qualification. I think J ohnny boy here can a est to that!”

  “What does it matter anyway?” John asked, trying hard to suppress a smile.

  “O f course it doesn’t ma er to you!” Dante said, becoming more flustered by the minute. “How would you like it if a straight demon was inside of you? No, never mind.

  I can only imagine. Make it a female one. A succubus! How would you like that?” Dante had him there. J ohn didn’t have much of a feminine side. J ust a sense of style, if that even counted anymore. The idea of being possessed by a female entity would be disquieting.

  “Are you saying you would prefer a succubus?” Asmoday asked.

  “Yes! Well, no. Don’t you have any straight demons?”

  “I already told you,” the Archduke snarled, “they aren’t straight or gay. R immon has male and female clients. I f it makes you feel be er, Delilah has female clients as well.”

  E ven this image wasn’t enough to deter Dante. “W hy does it have to be a demonic hustler?”

  “This isn’t open for negotiation,” Asmoday growled. “E very soul in existence judges a book by its cover, especially when that book has red skin and horns. You make a nice li le disguise, Dante, and you’ll continue to convey R immon’s expertise without spooking our would-be allies before we can even say ‘hello.’” The Archduke glared to be sure his point was made, before turning back to J ohn. “As I was saying, my superior is very pleased with your success.”

  The compliment made J ohn uneasy. There was no mystery as to who Asmoday’s superior might be. L earning that the Devil was pleased with J ohn’s work didn’t exactly conjure warm feelings of contentment.

  “You have a lot to gain if you keep working for us,” Asmoday continued. “W hat is it you want? Power, money, an apartment?”

  J ohn didn’t know what he would do with any of those things. All he truly wanted was something to do, a fact he planned on keeping to himself for now.

  “We’ll talk payment later. What’s next?”

  “A man of action! I like it!” Asmoday leaned back in his chair, making it groan. “The Norse gods may be good fighters, but they aren’t the most powerful magicians. The M inisters of O rder have magic in spades, but so do the C elts. We need the I rish gods on our side.”

  “Have you sent anyone to them before?” John asked.

  “Yeah, and they actually come back in one piece, but they don’t remember where they’ve been or what happened. You might want to avoid eating or drinking while you’re there.”

  “S ounds easy,” Dante said, doing his best to sound upbeat. “No problem at all. We should be able to handle this one on our own, just me and John.”

  “Nice try,” Asmoday said. “R immon is going with you, and if I hear one more complaint about it, you’re going to find out what it’s really like to have a gay demon inside you, catch my drift?”

  W hen they left Asmoday’s office, they found R immon leaning against the coach.

  B olo was at his side, tense with anticipation that broke into a full body wag when he spo ed J ohn. The coach already had a new driver, a rosy-cheeked, pleasantly plump old woman. How she ended up in Hell was hard to imagine. M aybe she cooked too many high cholesterol casseroles for her neighbors.

  “What’s her story?” John asked

  “C onverted to C atholicism in her old age to be absolved of her sins,” R immon answered, “but that didn’t stop her from sleeping with her husband’s brother. O r the local miller. O r the miller’s teenage son. S he was a very busy lady until her final days and didn’t make it to confession, although sleeping with the priest comes close.”

  “O ff we go, then,” the old woman said in an accent thick enough to rival Dante’s. “I haven’t got all eternity.”

  “Wait a minute!” Dante said as R immon neared him. “J ust had an idea. C an’t you possess John instead? Or how about the dog. Bolo won’t mind!”

  “Only works on denizens of Hell, sorry.”

  At least the process appeared painless. R immon simply stepped into the same space that Dante occupied before disappearing. Not that the I rishman took it well. He was instantly pale, but this time he didn’t appear nauseous.

  “It’s nothing against you,” Dante said once they were sitting in the coach cabin. “My brother is gay. O nly came out to me, not that the whole family doesn’t suspect, so it isn’t if I haven’t been around your kind. Truth is, I ’d rather not be possessed at all, so it hardly has anything to do with what you or demon boy get up to.”

  “I was impressed you didn’t mention it when I showed up with R immon the first time,” John confided.

  “I didn’t pin you for the type, but it’s no concern of mine.”

  “I f i
t’s any consolation, the moments R immon shines through you make you all the more a ractive. W hen you aren’t breathing fire I mean. E ach time R immon talks through you, a lot of that incubus allure is there. I f I find it a ractive, then the ladies will too.”

  Dante mulled this over. “Not bad for a silver lining,” he said, pulling the lever that sent the coach rolling. “M aybe R immon and I can reach some sort of agreement.

  There’s bound to be some Celtic beauties where we’re headed.”

  “I ’ll show you a good time!” the old woman cackled from the driver’s seat as the coach reached escape velocity.

  “Then again,” Dante said, “maybe it’s best not to mix business with pleasure.”

  * * * * *

  L ight gli ered off the ocean below, white crests of waves breaking around lush, green islands. The coach veered sharply toward the smallest of these land masses, nose-diving at an alarming speed before righting itself in time for landing. W ith a thud the coach hit the ground, the driver toppling off the seat and onto the beach the second the straps released her.

  “This is more like it!” she crooned.

  B olo agreed with her, launching himself out of the coach the moment the door was open and racing happily across the sand.

  J ohn smiled as he followed, enjoying the warm breeze on his face and the taste of salt in the air. Dante seemed to be enjoying it too, although his clothing made him appear out of place anywhere other than a city.

  I nstinct led them down the beach to a long narrow boat. The decorative prow and stern of the vessel twisted gracefully into curls; the colorful sails a mixture of turquoise, violet, and green. These sails puffed out proudly in the wind, but despite the force gathered there the ship remained motionless, not even rocking. E ven the ramp that stretched from the ship to the beach was still and steady.

  A god stood on deck, waiting near the ramp as if he were the captain and they the expected passengers. This was M anannan mac L ir, C eltic lord of the ocean and master over weather. The seas were his domain, as were the islands of paradise that lay beyond. Despite his status, the god’s demeanor was casual, a half-smile playing about his lips. He pulled a pipe from his pale blue robe and raised it to them in greeting as they neared.