Angelus

by Sabrina Benulis

  Even as she watched, they began to fade from the walls.

  What was Python doing? He wasn’t dragging her to the Arena this time?

  I’m sure you heard your half-breed cousin conversing with me not so long ago, Python said. His voice seemed to echo from everywhere at once. He’s alive, Troy. I have him in a prison here. The game is that you need only to find which one.

  Troy stiffened. Her hair stood on end as sparks of crimson light broke the muzzle on her face and snapped the manacles on her wrist and neck. Slowly, the gate of her cage opened.

  See how kind of a master I am, pet? I’m allowing you to have your revenge on him at last. Now you can make him suffer for murdering your uncle. Pay close attention here—he can suffer. But you can’t kill him. I won’t allow that. And be sure to stay within the boundaries because I will know if you overreach them.

  Surely, Python was lying. But Troy knew Sariel was indeed in Hell. Whether or not he’d ever contacted Angela had been open to guesses.

  Either way, Troy was free to scamper through Python’s dungeon. At the very least, she could probably find a way to free herself. Tentatively, she crawled out of the cage, smarting at the feel of chill stone against her palms. Her nails scraped the rock as she stood, examining the heavy door blocking her exit from the jail.

  It was now wide open.

  Through the acidic fog, a familiar, though very faint scent, worked its way to Troy.

  As if in a trance, she began to follow it. For once, this demon hadn’t lied.

  Ten

  The second Angela’s feet finally brushed the ground, she froze. Sophia paused, still stuck in the tunnel above her. They’d ended their descent in a long stone tunnel dripping with water that steamed as it met the stone. To their right, in the direction of a strange reddish glow, strange animalistic noises drifted toward them. But they were only audible because of the echoing effect of the stone.

  Other odd noises resounded from above. Angela couldn’t tell if she was hearing voices or a constant roar. It almost sounded like an enormous crowd hid nearby, just out of sight.

  Slowly, Sophia set her dainty slippers on the stone floor beside Angela as she dropped at last from their hole.

  Her face blanched.

  “What is that roaring sound?” Angela whispered to her. “It sounds almost like chanting voices.”

  Sophia looked up at the ceiling worriedly. Angela felt the same. The hole in the room where they’d been trapped had dropped them into another tunnel, which forced them to walk east or west. Angela had chosen east and then they’d been forced to enter the hole from which they’d just emerged. Perhaps they weren’t underneath Python’s mansion anymore. Certainly they might be underneath the portion of Babylon directly outside it.

  “Do you know what this noise is?” Angela said, unable to stop listening to it.

  Sophia shook her head. “We should keep moving.”

  Angela nodded and grabbed her hand. She turned to the right and then the left. Neither choice was the best. They still had no clue where they were going. “There’s light in this direction,” Angela said, facing the reddish glow. The animalistic noises sounded slightly familiar. Then a long braying screech echoed back to them.

  Angela gasped. Kirin had been stabled down there. These must have been the underground paddocks where Python kept his beasts.

  “All right, hurry,” Angela said. She grabbed Sophia and forced her to run behind her.

  Sophia had already caught on. “They’re Python’s animals, Angela. They might not let us ride without his permission.”

  “Oh, they’ll let us ride,” Angela said. She glanced back at Sophia meaningfully, finding it more and more difficult to speak as they ran. “Trust me.”

  Hieroglyphs on the walls pulsed with red light. They quickly encroached upon a huge gate with two serpents twined above, their necks hooked together in a reciprocal S shape. Cautiously, Angela and Sophia crept close enough to the gate to see inside. Angela could make out the long rows of individual paddocks. Troughs carved with dragons and serpents held colorless vegetation from the plains surrounding Babylon, and a smooth wall of rock displayed silver pegs, each holding a bridle studded with gems. There were no signs of saddles anywhere.

  Angela reached out to shove the gates open.

  The twin snakes instantly lunged and hissed at her. Their jaws snapped for her hands.

  Sophia screamed.

  Angela backed away. The Kirin began snorting in alarm. They’d probably been spooked by her unfamiliar smell. Angela had certainly ridden enough Kirin now in Hell to understand their behavior. But even though she had her own stables as Hell’s Prince, Angela had never found any Kirin willing to bond with her. It was as if they could sense she was from another world.

  Think, Angela. Think! This is the perfect way to escape, especially if there are other creatures down in these tunnels. But these snakes—this gate—

  If only she could summon the Glaive. But doing so would mean that she’d suffer great pain, maybe even go temporarily blind. The Glaive was a pole-arm of crystallized blue blood from Lucifel’s Grail. To summon the weapon, she’d need to stab her new green Eye to make it bleed. The very thought worked shivers through her entire body.

  She’d have to take her chances with the snakes for now.

  “Angela, wait—” Sophia shouted.

  Angela grasped the lock on the gate, fumbled with it, and refused to let go, even as the serpents twined down the iron bars and sank their fangs deep into the flesh of her hands.

  Sophia latched on to them, shouting as she tried to pull them off.

  “Sophia, let go,” Angela gasped through the pain. “Let—go—”

  Sophia only pulled harder.

  Angela groaned, biting her lip hard to hold back screams. The reptiles chewed deeper into her skin. Blue blood trickled down her wrists.

  Sophia froze, her hands still locked around the serpents’ necks. Angela ignored her pain for a moment, watching with her mind turning in panicked circles as the blue blood dripped, and dripped, and dripped.

  I bleed this color now? Just like the Grail? WHY?

  Sophia staggered, letting go abruptly. She must have been able to sense what Angela was about to do. Almost instinctively, Angela willed the blood in her palms to pool together and crystallize. Radiant light illuminated the inside of the stables and the tunnel behind Angela and Sophia as the Glaive materialized in Angela’s hands. As the haft took shape, the snakes hissed madly and crumbled to black ash. The blade appeared in a wicked scimitar of blue.

  “Stand back!” Angela shouted.

  She swiped at the bars of the gate.

  They smashed like glass, chunks of metal sprinkling to the ground around them. Angela’s hands throbbed painfully, but she held on to the weapon tightly. She ducked through the hole in the gate, turned back to offer a free hand and help Sophia step inside, and then motioned for her to stay still as Angela glanced around for danger. The Kirin continued to bray and screech. They’d been pushed to panic by the Glaive’s light.

  Which paddock do I open? I guess it doesn’t matter. Any Kirin will do.

  A terrible WHUMP sounded throughout the stable, echoing off the walls. Instantly, the other Kirin hushed. They nickered in their paddocks, their large paws scuffing at the stone floor. The sound had come from the largest paddock, directly across from Angela. She turned to look up at the barred hole set in its door. From inside, a great yellow eye gleamed back at her. A snort of hot breath left the nostrils of the Kirin inside. Angela had never seen one so large.

  “It’s enormous,” Sophia whispered by her side. “It must be a male.”

  Angela took a step forward. She and the beast gazed at each other steadily. Time slowed. The creature’s intelligent eyes locked on Angela’s green eye, the Grail, and the power within it ignited like a fire between them and held the animal fast.

  Angela walked up to the door of the paddock. As quietly as possible, she snapped the lock open with the
Glaive. She then willed the weapon to collapse.

  Blue blood splashed to the ground. The Kirin inside neighed and tensed.

  Angela stared a second longer. Then she grabbed Sophia and ran with her to the other side of the room.

  They’d dashed out of the way just in time.

  The winged Kirin exploded from its stable and galloped directly in front of Angela and Sophia, rearing above them with its horn nearly scraping the cavern ceiling. It returned to the earth with a resounding crash of its paws against the ground. The vibration shuddered powerfully up through Angela’s legs and chest. The other Kirin surrounding them had now gone completely still and silent.

  Sophia gripped Angela by the shoulder. They sat on the ground with the beast looming over them.

  The Kirin’s entire body gleamed dark ebony, and beautiful bluish-green stripes of light rippled up and down its flanks. Its eyes fixed on Angela and pierced her. Enormous reptilian wings flapped powerfully against its sides, throwing out gusts of air. It was completely different from any Kirin she’d ever seen in Hell. Three times larger, winged, and with a noble bearing. No wonder Python had shut it up underneath his mansion, away from prying eyes.

  “Angela,” Sophia whispered in warning.

  The Kirin lowered its neck invitingly and then went still.

  Had the power of the Eye subdued it like Angela had planned? Yet even as she reached out as if in a dream to stroke the animal’s long muzzle, she couldn’t help feeling that this creature was somehow hers. It allowed itself to be petted for a minute, then arched its neck again and began to nicker nervously. Now was their chance.

  “Come on! Hurry!” Angela said, hoisting Sophia up with her from the ground. Sophia panted for breath but didn’t protest as Angela helped her carefully climb onto the Kirin’s broad back. Angela followed, ducking as the Kirin’s leathery wings tested the air again. She held fast to the Kirin’s mane, tightening her grip as Sophia locked her arms around Angela’s waist.

  Swiftly, she tugged so that the Kirin turned back toward the gate.

  “All right,” she said to Sophia. “Whatever you do—don’t let go.”

  The winged Kirin reared before sprinting, and its long screech set its fellow herd members into a frenzy again. Angela winced as the beast jumped over the pieces of the gate blocking its way. The impact shuddered up through her bones and chattered her teeth as it landed again.

  Then they galloped fast, with nothing to stop them.

  They had no choice except to travel in the opposite direction from which they’d come.

  Angela gritted her teeth. She dared to shut her eyes, relishing the sensation of the chilly air working its way through her hair. Sophia pressed against her back, head buried in her shoulder. The odd noise they’d heard in the tunnel became louder the more they galloped. There could have been a waterfall nearby, though Angela knew that was impossible. They were miles from the Styx River right now.

  A deeper chill worked its way through her. It was the same one she’d felt when she and Sophia rode after Lucifel before her escape from Hell—and before Angela was trapped in it forever.

  Without warning the winged Kirin slowed its pace.

  Soon, they were down to a trot. Sophia’s weight lifted from against Angela’s back. “What’s going on?” she said, shouting above the roar surrounding them on all sides.

  “I don’t know,” Angela shouted back.

  Worry lanced through her like a shard of ice. She could have sworn the roar was actually the sound of a million voices. But they had to continue forward. There was no other exit.

  A dull light had appeared ahead of them. Mysterious furrows had been etched through the rock walls, slicing the hieroglyphs there into halves. They looked like claw marks.

  Angela kicked the Kirin’s sides with her heels, forcing the creature to speed up again. Reluctantly, it began to move. This time, its wings beat with its movements, propelling it forward even faster, as if the beast glided on ice. The light and the sound grew both brighter and noisier.

  They could have been entering a thundercloud. The noise shivered through Angela’s entire body and set her bones aching.

  Angela felt Sophia’s fingers tighten painfully into her waist. “It can’t be,” Sophia shouted.

  But it was too late to stop. The Kirin burst out of the tunnel.

  Light blinded them. Innumerable voices chanted in the native language of the demons. Angela didn’t have the time to concentrate on what was being said. She was too busy trying to keep her and Sophia alive. The Kirin reared higher than before, threatening to dump them both onto the ground. Angela and Sophia screamed together.

  As the Kirin returned to the earth again, Angela looked around wildly, trying to understand.

  They were now outside, standing in the bottom center of a great arena swarming with chanting excited demons of every age and rank. Angela’s mouth opened, but no sound came out of it. Her eyes watered from the brilliance of far too many braziers and lights.

  Ice crystals drifted slowly to the ground from the heavy clouds, dusting the bare skin of her arms.

  It was beyond Angela’s imagination how Python disguised this place and hid it from the general view of Hell, but she suspected more than one of his dark mischievous powers behind it all. The Arena was too large not to be seen from the ground unless it was deliberately hidden somehow. It was bigger than more than a few of Babylon’s city blocks put together and constructed entirely of black onyx with cruel-looking obsidian spires. Pennants with an orange snake fluttered from intimidating turrets.

  The chanting grew louder, signifying that something was about to happen. The demons grew even more excited, hundreds of them standing to get a better view of what was taking place.

  Angela could barely breathe.

  “The Arena . . .” Sophia shouted behind her fearfully.

  Angela clasped the pendant at her chest, tightening her hand around it into a fist.

  “I thought it no longer existed,” Sophia stammered.

  “What do you mean?” Angela shouted back.

  “Millennia ago, the Great Demons would host games here in Lucifel’s name. Usually, captured angels were pitted against a demon who’d committed a crime against Lucifel’s law, or worse, Jinn would be pitted against one another. Finally, Lucifel demanded the Arena be shut down and destroyed. No one knows why. But no one had the courage to say no to her, and it was slowly, piece by piece, dismantled. Or so most demons thought.” Sophia took in a shaky breath. “Python must have either had it rebuilt or salvaged enough to commission repairs for what remained. I’d guess that now only demons of his choosing have any idea it exists. And I imagine that he makes them keep the secret on pain of death.”

  “How would he know if they talked about it?” Angela said. Dizziness began to overtake her as the winged Kirin turned in panicked circles.

  “He has ways,” Sophia said. “You of all people should know that by now.”

  A sudden breeze whipped out of nowhere, throwing up Angela’s hair like a blood-red curtain.

  Suddenly, most of the demons stood and looked directly at her, cheering wildly.

  “They know it’s you,” Sophia said with horror.

  Angela scanned the crowds, at last focusing on a great balcony where most of the pennants fluttered. Python was there, sitting on an enormous chair. Somehow, the Eye’s gaze tightened the space between them so that Angela could examine every last detail. He wore an extravagant coat of black velvet and purple thread, and blood-red gems glittered against his brow. He’d been looking down at a mirror held between his hands. Now he set it aside and leaned forward, staring back at her. His snake’s gaze lingered on Angela’s.

  You wouldn’t dare, she said to him with her thoughts.

  In answer, a satisfied smile broke on his thin lips.

  Python stood and a deep silence fell throughout the Arena. He waved his hands, gesturing down at Angela and Sophia—or at something beyond them.

  A sudden flash
of reddish light and a wall of flickering energy spread up around the center of the Arena floor, meeting high on all sides in the sky to form a kind of dome. Python was making sure the winged Kirin couldn’t fly them to safety.

  Angela pictured the claw marks in the stone tunnel and her chest tightened.

  She glanced around the Arena, searching desperately for another exit. There were two, each as large as the tunnel through which they’d entered. Without warning, the Kirin champed and spun in the other direction, facing the tunnel with the claw marks.

  It lowered its head, its front legs stiffening defensively as it displayed its spiraling horn.

  The earth itself seemed to growl and shudder. The crowd of demons remained deathly silent. Angela looked back at Python. He stood at the edge of his balcony, examining her with a cold smile. He’d been drinking from a goblet in the meantime, which he now pitched casually over the side to the ground.

  Welcome to my Arena, Archon, his voice whispered in Angela’s mind. I’d like to thank you in advance for providing such unexpected entertainment. Python leaned against the balcony railing. In fact, you’re just in time. I’ve obtained a very rare prize for this next show. One that cost me as much blood and sweat to obtain as that winged Kirin you’ve stolen.

  Angela could feel her rage heating her entire body. She struggled to keep the Kirin steady. You know it’s foolish to kill me. With me dead it’s impossible to open the Book.

  Oh, that’s quite all right. First, I’ll watch you suffer. Then we can discuss how best to slice Sophia to ribbons with the Glaive.

  “Angela,” Sophia whispered fearfully. “It’s coming. Whatever it is—it’s coming!”

  But Angela’s world had stopped. All she could digest was that now both Lilith and her son, Python, knew how to open Sophia. But Python was playing it smart. He’d never force Angela to kill Sophia in front of so many demons. He’d want to keep a secret of that magnitude to himself. How had he found out? Who could have possibly told him? Certainly not Lilith. It wasn’t like her to entrust her power-hungry son with such valuable information herself. Had he somehow pried into Angela’s mind? Perhaps when she was unconscious?