Hell's Pawn

by Jay Bell

  The old woman reached him first, a mixture of reverence and fear on her face.

  “M arga, you treacherous thing!” M anannan said, his brow furrowing and his white beard bristling. His manner was so intimidating that they all took a step backwards.

  “What business do you have here?”

  “Forgive me!” M arga pleaded. “All those stories about Hell spooked me good, so I figured converting wouldn’t do no harm. I ’ve suffered for what I done, but I don’t expect no mercy from you.”

  A grin chased the ferociousness from M anannan’s face. “There’s nothing to forgive, you old fool! You could have come directly here if you hadn’t been waylaid by such nonsense. On the boat with you!”

  The sea god jerked his thumb over his shoulder, and M arga scrambled eagerly up the ramp. B olo followed her, oblivious of the need for permission. Next M anannan turned to them, his penetrating eyes the subtle blue of the morning sky.

  “W hat an interesting pair Hell has sent us this time,” he said. “I can see why they specialize in temptation, as I’m almost persuaded to bring you along.”

  “We just want to talk,” John assured him. “We mean no harm.”

  “And yet words can be the most harmful weapons.” M anannan lit his pipe and took a deep drag. “I wonder, are either of you aware of your conditions?”

  “Take us with you and you’ll find out,” Dante bargained.

  “Our conditions?” John asked.

  “Well, well,” M anannan replied. “W ith the two of you along, this voyage might be interesting indeed, although it remains to be seen how much you will remember.” The second J ohn and Dante were on deck, the ramp disappeared. J ohn barely had time to look around before M arga took his arm and blinked her eyelashes in a way that he didn’t find at all becoming. He tried pulling away, but M arga’s grip was surprisingly firm.

  “To think I could have come sooner,” she said. “A demon let slip that my chains were of me own making. How’s that for a thing?”

  No mystery there, J ohn thought. After all, they had needed a driver to the C eltic lands. W hat J ohn didn’t understand was what M anannan meant by him and Dante having a condition. I f Dante’s was the demon inside him, what was J ohn’s? He had thought the great secret in Asmoday’s office had related to R immon possessing Dante, but now that he considered it, Dante had seemed just as surprised by that. Now J ohn was back to wondering what was being kept from him.

  M anannan pulled on his pipe and with a nod the boat slid forward, turning away from the beach and slipping into the ocean. Waves broke in two and parted for the vessel, allowing it to sail forward as if it were gliding across a perfectly still lake. The ship’s wheel, turning of its own accord, steered them toward an empty horizon while B olo scampered up and down the deck in excitement. Dante leaned against the rail a few paces away, leaving John, Marga, and Manannan to talk alone.

  “Where are we going?” John asked.

  “To M ag M ell,” M anannan answered. “The land of promise where there is music, dancing, and storytelling in abundance. The souls there want for nothing, not food, company, happiness, or even youth.”

  Marga released John with a gasp. “Oh, would you look at that!” J ohn turned unwillingly back toward M arga, who was examining her hand in awe.

  The woman looked different now. S he had lost some weight, and her features were tighter. As he watched the gray hair was chased away by a rich auburn, making her appear middle-aged. He didn’t doubt that the process would continue until they reached their destination, leaving the woman in her prime. How easily he had become used to such wonders! J ohn only hoped that his own age would remain intact. He had no urge to revisit his teenage years.

  J ohn returned his a ention to M anannan. “Are you taking us there to meet with the other gods?”

  “I am bringing M arga home to be reunited with her friends and family,” M anannan said. “It remains to be seen how far I allow you and your companions to travel.”

  “Well thank you for trusting us so far.” J ohn decided that now was his only chance to make his intentions known. “I don’t know how much the other ambassadors told you, but we’re actually here because we need your help. Are you familiar with Heaven?”

  “Yes,” M anannan said, “and now that I have answered three of your questions, it is time for you to answer three of mine.”

  “O h.” J ohn wasn’t sure if this was a custom or a challenge, but he saw no choice but to comply. “Okay.”

  “Are you trying to deceive me?”

  M anannan’s tones were casual. He didn’t sound angry or defensive, but his penetrating eyes were locked onto J ohn’s as he waited for an answer. Were they deceiving him? J ohn supposed they were intentionally hiding R immon, which did seem dishonest. B ut that wasn’t lying, per say. That was simply holding back the truth.

  J ohn had fought with more than one boyfriend over the intricacies of this philosophy, and had been on both sides of the argument at least once. I n the current situation, he supposed they were being deceptive, but in the most harmless way possible.

  “No, we’re not deceiving you.”

  M anannan puffed on his pipe and exhaled, the dark smoke swiftly blown away by the increasing wind. J ohn glanced away from him to notice dark storm clouds on the horizon, still far away.

  M arga, growing bored with the conversation, moved over to join Dante. S he looked as though she was in her early thirties now, and it was much easier to understand how she had been able to seduce so many men. S he wrapped an arm around Dante, who didn’t seem to mind.

  “The help you seek from us,” Manannan continued. “Do you feel the cause is just?” The war against Heaven? J ohn couldn’t say it was, since he didn’t truly know if Heaven was to blame. Asmoday had implied that freeing P urgatory was part of his campaign against Heaven, but J ohn still had his doubts. R egardless, he wasn’t going to earn M anannan’s respect by saying they were here for an illicit purpose. J ohn would sort out his misgivings later, but for now he wanted to avoid his memory being erased.

  “Our cause is just,” he answered confidently.

  A sudden wind whipped J ohn from behind, ruffling his clothing and hair. W hen he looked up, the storm clouds were now directly above them, a churning black maelstrom that grumbled and flashed. The winds kept ravaging the ship, sending it rocking back and forth. This was no coincidence. I f M anannan’s realm was the sea and the weather, then surely their environment was a reflection of his mood. J ohn had lied twice, and only had one more chance to get it right.

  M arga sidled up to them with Dante in tow. “We be er get some shelter above our head,” she said. S he held up a hand to ward away the rain that had begun pelting down. “I’d be mighty thankful to go below deck.”

  “O f course. O ff you go,” M anannan said. “Not you,” he added, when Dante moved to follow. “You stay here.”

  “What did I do wrong?” Dante asked defensively.

  “You haven’t answered my third question.”

  “Fine. Ask away.”

  Manannan’s face was grim. “Is there a stowaway aboard my ship?” Rimmon! Of course there was and they had to answer honestly, or else—

  “Nope,” Dante said, heading to where M arga had disappeared. “No stowaways here.”

  The storm above them exploded, an instant hurricane that sent the ship lurching.

  Torrents of rain washed across the deck as the winds howled. Dante was knocked on his backside and J ohn stumbled, trying to find his footing on the now slippery deck.

  He grabbed hold of the rail and searched the deck for B olo. M anannan was standing still as if the weather was calm, and Dante was smart enough to stay down, but J ohn couldn’t find the dog through the sheets of rain.

  W hat he did see was the giant wave rushing toward the opposite side of the ship.

  The wave’s height was tremendous, M anannan’s ship a miniscule toy boat in comparison. J ohn could only gape in horror before it came cras
hing down, clinging for dear life to the rail as his body was flung to and fro. Then he found himself slamming into the side of the boat, his feet no longer touching the deck. He was overboard, his tenuous grip on the rail his only lifeline.

  J ohn clung desperately to the rail, coughing up water as he readjusted his grip. He glanced down to see vicious waves lapping at his feet. He may be dead, but his fingers hurt like only the living could as he tried to gain enough purchase to pull himself up.

  C old and numb, he could feel his fingers slipping as the boat kept lurching. I n seconds he would be shaken free and lost to Manannan’s angry sea.

  Hands grabbed J ohn’s wrists, strong and red. They hoisted him upward, one hand releasing him so an arm could be thrown around his waist. J ohn was pulled into Rimmon’s comforting warm embrace.

  “I am Hell’s true ambassador,” R immon yelled over the din as he held J ohn protectively. “I will answer your three questions. O ur only deception is borne out of prejudice, a cause is only as just as each man’s heart decrees, and the only stowaway aboard this ship is me.”

  The rain, wind, waves, and thunder all ceased. The clouds dispersed within seconds, blue sky breaking through as sunlight reflected off the wet deck.

  “Your honesty is appreciated,” M anannan said with a twinkle in his eye. His pipe was still lit and his clothes bone dry.

  R immon released J ohn. As soon as J ohn spo ed B olo and Dante, both soaking wet but still on deck, he groaned with relief and slid down the sideboard to sit on the deck.

  R immon moved away to speak with M anannan properly, while J ohn tried to decide if he wanted to curl up into a ball or laugh. He allowed himself a few selfish moments, basking in the sunlight and enjoying the now smooth motion of the ship, before he stood again. He hadn’t been honest with M anannan, and felt he needed to make amends by coming clean. The sea god was right. Their cause wasn’t just, and J ohn was no longer okay with that.

  “L ook at what tolerance toward the new religion has resulted in,” R immon was saying. “Ireland has forgo en the C eltic gods completely and has been split in two. I f you had fought against them from the beginning—”

  “S ome of us did fight,” M anannan interrupted, his tone as steady as the boat’s course, “but the wisest among us recognized that change is the one reliable constant in the physical world. We were once the new religion as well, replacing gods that truly have been lost to history. No, we old gods took our turn, basking in the light of believers until it was our time to move on, although many still discover us to this day.”

  “C omparing modern Paganism to that of old is comparing bread and water to a king’s feast,” R immon pressed. “You were once in the minds of an entire race! How can you truly be satisfied now?”

  “And yet we are,” M anannan replied. “Those who loved us in life are now with us here. That we are still remembered, our stories still told in the physical world, is the greatest of honors.”

  “I t’s your new followers who you should be worried about,” J ohn interjected, seeing his opportunity. He told M anannan of the situation in P urgatory, of how people were trapped there for all eternity. “J acobi, a friend of ours, has been there since the changes began and when souls from other pantheons began arriving. I saw some of them myself. Have you noticed anyone missing? Anyone that you expected to show but who didn’t?”

  M anannan glanced meaningfully around the near-empty boat. “And how will warring with Heaven solve this problem?”

  “I t won’t,” J ohn said. “The truth is, we don’t know if Heaven is behind the changes in Purgatory.”

  R immon was clearly taken aback by this statement, but J ohn had his own axe to grind. He no longer wanted to encourage a war against what might be an innocent realm. All he could be sure of was that the situation in P urgatory was wrong. I f he played his cards right, he might be able to do something about it.

  “Purgatory has always been under Heaven’s jurisdiction,” Rimmon said.

  “W ho is responsible doesn’t ma er,” J ohn said. “G ood people are imprisoned, souls who need our help. Not all of them belong to your pantheon, but you can bet people there are silently praying for their gods to come free them. You say it’s an honor to still be in the minds and hearts of these people. Well, maybe it’s time to repay that love by doing something for them.”

  M anannan’s eyes twinkled. “Are you sure you aren’t a denizen of Hell? You have quite the silver tongue.”

  “I think that tongue could use some polishing,” R immon smiled, “but he does make an interesting point.”

  “W hat is it to be, then?” M anannan asked. “Does Hell want to wage war against Heaven or Purgatory?”

  R immon hesitated. “Hell only wishes to pool our resources,” he said. “Together we can free the souls and return them to where they belong. O f course finding the culprit behind the recent changes is also a priority. Hell is interested in retuning balance to the realms, and dispensing justice is a crucial part of this plan. W hat say you, Manannan?”

  “S uch decisions are not mine alone to make. I speak only for myself and not the pantheon, but after hearing the impassioned words of you both, I will tentatively lend you my support. O n one condition, which is that you must convince the other gods here.” Manannan gestured ahead of them. “Gentlemen, welcome to Mag Mell.” The boat’s journey over, they had reached an island thick with trees. The forest beyond was filled with the sounds of animal life. M arga, now young and buxom, squealed happily as she ran down the ramp toward the people gathered there. They embraced her enthusiastically, a tearful reunion that eventually moved into the trees.

  “Her family?” John asked.

  M anannan nodded. “I should have erased your memories and sent you away like I did the others,” he said. “Although in your case, J ohn, I wonder if I even could.

  R egardless, you’ve seduced me with your words, and I will allow you to continue your journey.”

  R immon clamped a hand companionably on the sea god’s shoulder. “Your support is much appreciated.”

  “You may not find the others so easy to convince. I will summon a guide to take you further, although you had be er slip back inside your friend. I can understand your fear of prejudice, and C ernunnos isn’t fond of demons. He feels, perhaps rightly, that they stole his image.”

  Once Dante and Rimmon were joined again, Manannan placed his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle. B irds erupted from the forest and took to the sky, not in reaction to the sound but what it had summoned.

  At first J ohn thought an elk was appearing from between the trees, for the antlers first drew his a ention. They were a deep mahogany, stretching wide and tall from each side of the god’s shaggy head. S tubble dominated C ernunnos’ chin, the same dark shade of hair that covered his muscular torso, trailed down his stomach, and ended in a thick tuft just above his crotch. J ohn didn’t need the god’s aura to explain that he was an avatar of fertility. I f the nudity wasn’t indication enough, his considerable endowment drove the point home.

  C ernunnos moved like the animals under his domain, falling onto all fours to gallop toward them, his arms bulging with thick ropes of muscle that drove him forward with incredible speed. The god of animals came to a halt at the end of his territory, the point where the grass ended but before the beach began.

  “Hail, Manannan!” he called in a gruff voice as he stood again.

  “A pleasant day to you, Horned O ne,” M anannan replied. “Against my be er judgment, I ’ve allowed two of Hell’s ambassadors to take advantage of my good nature.”

  “They won’t fare so well with me,” Cernunnos promised.

  J ohn tried to leave the boat last, hoping if he lingered long enough he could speak with M anannan, to ask quickly what his condition was, but Dante stayed at his side like a Secret Service agent.

  “We shall meet again,” M anannan said, perhaps picking up on J ohn’s intentions.

  “After all, someone must brin
g you back to your coach.”

  J ohn swallowed his frustration and disembarked. B olo was one step ahead of him, as usual. The dog had already reached C ernunnos, but instead of his usual excited antics, he was si ing calmly with his full a ention focused on the god. J ohn couldn’t help but join the dog in his admiration, feeling pulled in by the pure masculinity that seeped from Cernunnos.

  He reeked of sexuality, of the irresistible primal urge to mate. C ernunnos carried the musky smell of animals and had a wildness in his eyes that was both mesmerizing and frightening. His very nature called to the beast in J ohn’s soul and made him want to rip off his clothes, cast off the starchy mantle of civilization, and be free again.

  W ithout warning, C ernunnos turned and with an impressive burst of speed, shot toward the forest; J ohn, Dante, and B olo followed. The chase was on! Animal instinct whipped them into action as they raced after their prey. Two legs weren’t fast enough.

  B olo was already leagues ahead, but J ohn’s body knew what to do. He fell forward, landing painlessly on his knuckles and broke into a gallop. Dante had done the same.

  He was at John’s side, his eyes mad with exhilaration.

  They broke through the line of trees and plunged into shadow. O bstacles were everywhere, but they didn’t slow. L ike possessed beasts they raced on, dodging around tress, sending leaves and twigs flying as they increased their speed. They were gaining on the horned god. J ohn could see his flanks drawing nearer. He bared his teeth, overwhelmed by a terrible urge to bite into the flesh of his prey and draw it down to the ground.

  The sun beat down on the clearing ahead that C ernunnos escaped into. The horned god stopped when he reached its center, skidding around in a circle to face them, his antlers creating a death trap. B olo was the first to stop, then J ohn before Dante collided into him. They ended up in a pile, just inches away from the fierce points of the antlers.