Daystar

by Darcy Town

  She grew out one talon and hooked it in a rib. She peeled back the skin. No blood came out. Belial pulled back an inch, then another. The darkness underneath became visible in the light. She bit her lip to keep from shrieking, not from pain, but from fear. The tissue was not a mass of flesh and bone, but webbing that looked like tar. The material moved away from the light.

  Belial followed the tendrils of black with a finger until they sank into her regular muscle. She pulled on one tendril, trying to disentangle it from her flesh. Her heart squeezed and pain raced through her body. She sagged against the wall and struggled to breathe as it compressed her lungs.

  Andy knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

  A tendril roped out of her body towards him. Belial sliced it off and stepped on it where it hit the floor. She struggled to sound normal. “I am fine! Stay with Paimon!”

  “Are you sure?”

  Belial’s heart beat and the darkness grew. Andy was near and it wanted him. It desired to join with him and spread itself. The pain made her take a step for the door. She reached for the lock. The cancer crept through her muscles and bone, slowly taking control of her limbs.

  “Andy.” Belial drove a spiked finger into her heart. Her eyes rolled back in her head. The mass quivered. She fought with her left arm for control. “I am fine. Go! Paimon needs you.”

  Andy walked away and the desire to attack him left her. Belial pulled the spike out and stared at her chest. The cancer shook like it was laughing. Belial snarled at it. “Fuck you.” She replaced the skin and the wound healed over.

  Belial thrust her hands in the sink and washed the gunk off her fingers. She grabbed the severed black tendril and threw it in the trash. The tissue dried out and crumbled once out of her fingers.

  Belial leaned over the sink, her entire body shook. She blinked back tears.

  She stared into the mirror; she searched her blue eyes. There was no darkness there. She still had time. Her eyes caught on her neck. She brushed back her hair. A purple bruise colored the skin just under her ear. The area pulsed and throbbed.

  Belial pulled her hair forward until it framed her face and covered her neck. She looked down into the porcelain and silver sink. Her wings quivered. The metal faucet melted. Belial gaped. “Fuck! No!” The faucet went back into place.

  Belial stared at it. “Melt again.” The faucet melted. “Reform.” It reverted. Belial allowed a small smile. Her chest burned.

  “Fuck!” Belial clamped her hand down on her heart; it strained against her. Dormant, unable to access power, the cancer had remained small before, content to live on as her heart.

  Belial glanced at her wings, her halos. As she gained power, it also gained power. She stared at her reflection. “Uriel…you will not get the chance and you will not win. I remain Belial.” Her heart throbbed in response. Darkness spread under her ribcage.

  Belial broke the lock on the door and dashed out, unable to look at herself any longer. She grabbed a robe, tore holes in it to make room for her wings. She slipped the soft material on. She ran down the stairs as Andy entered the master bedroom. She followed him in.

  Paimon slept on the floor, curled up and covered in Furcas’ clothes, an empty bottle beside him. Andy sat near the doorway; his transparent wings went through the wall without resistance. He patted the spot next to him.

  Belial walked over and took a seat.

  Andy kissed her temple and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He spoke quietly, “Anything wrong?”

  Belial shook her head and answered him with a whisper, “No.”

  Andy eyed her. “Are you sure?”

  She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yes, Andy.”

  They stared at Paimon. He twitched in his sleep. He spoke Furcas’ name. Even in dreams, his voice was full of loss.

  Andy pulled Belial into a hug. “I never want to go through that.”

  Belial watched Paimon. “The pain?”

  “Losing love.”

  Belial gulped as guilt heaped on fear. “No one does, Andy.”

  Andy watched her in the darkness. “Belial…are you sure you’re okay? Do you want to talk about anything?”

  Belial forced a smile. “How does it feel to have your wings back?”

  “Uh, fine, but—”

  “Yes.” Belial stared into the darkness. “It is good to be whole once more. Very whole.” She wrapped her wings around them both. “Do you think I look good in this metal color?”

  “Belial—”

  “It really changes my wardrobe options, I—”

  Andy stifled her words with a kiss. He was gentle. His lips were warm, soft, and questioning. He pulled back, unwilling to push if not invited.

  Belial grabbed him and kissed him. She needed him.

  Andy ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her close. He kissed harder. Belial responded with equal force. Andy pressed her against him. She snaked her tongue into his mouth.

  Andy shuddered and pressed her to the floor.

  Belial gasped and allowed him to. She was pleasure and need. She had never felt this before. Now it was all that drove her. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She froze.

  Andy moved to her neck, trailing kisses like fire across her skin. Belial stared at the ceiling in shock. She touched her chest through the robe. The area beneath her skin trembled.

  Belial put her hands on Andy’s shoulders and pushed him back. Her chest ached. It wanted him, wanted to join with him. Her mouth tasted terrible. She cupped her hand over her mouth and ran up the stairs back to the bathroom.

  Andy gaped at the doorway. “I shouldn’t have done that. I said I wouldn’t push. I’m such an idiot!” He got up and followed her. “Belial, I’m sorry!”

  Belial stared in the mirror. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. Darkness coated her throat, not yet at her gums or lips, but it was encroaching. She threw up in the sink. Black bile splashed across the porcelain.

  Andy hovered outside the doorway. “I, uh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  Belial wiped her mouth and rinsed the black residue away before he could see. “My fault. It’s just…I need more time. I’m sorry. I’m not puking because of you. I just don’t feel well. This physical Archon stuff is taking some getting used to. That’s all.”

  Andy stepped into the bathroom. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything, Belial.” He frowned; her face was coated in a sheen of sweat. “You don’t look okay. I think we should—”

  “Where is it?” Paimon tore through furniture downstairs. “Where!”

  Belial and Andy raced downstairs. Paimon stood in the living room rifling through cabinets. He flipped the couch. “Where is it?”

  Andy grabbed his shoulders. “Where is what?”

  “Furcas’ favorite hairbrush, I can’t find it!”

  “Why do you need it now?”

  Paimon punched Andy in the stomach. “It’s his favorite! I have to find it! I have to!” He burst into tears. “I have to!”

  Andy pulled him into a hug. “We’ll help you find it, that’s what we’re here for. Now tell me, the last time you saw it was when?” Belial took Paimon’s hand and they led him into the next room to continue the search.

  ***

  Dahlia and Lucifer’s eight children appeared on the surface. They looked between the ages of five and ten. Gaea, the eldest, stood at the front of the gaggle. She tapped her mom on the shoulder. “We’re here.”

  Dahlia looked up and hugged her daughter. “Hello.”

  Whitney was in tears. “That was such an asshole thing to do! Fuck all of them! I’m glad I’m an Archangel now, I’m going to kick some ass!”

  Dahlia gave Whitney a smile. “Good.” She addressed her daughter, “I need your help.”

  “What is it?”

  “Remodeling this place.” Dahlia stood up. Helion and Berith popped up behind them. She looked to everyone present. “First off. Gaea and Chronos, I need you to round up any remaining Lilliam that were outsi
de the City, get them home. Then help Apple gather the living humans into one spot.”

  Gaea nodded. “All of them?”

  “Yes. The Great Plains are back to being great and empty so fill that area up first. I need them centralized. Titan, Leviathan, and Ifrit, I need you to protect the City and get it to the surface intact.”

  Titan nodded. “As it was before we sank it?”

  “Yes.”

  Leviathan pulled her blue hair into a ponytail. “Where are we putting it?”

  Dahlia mulled it over. “At the moment, place it near the humans, but I do not want Lilliam leaving and interacting with them. Consider both groups under quarantine.”

  Ra, Nix, and Ouroboros looked on. “What are we doing?”

  Dahlia pointed to Helion. “Going with him. Collect the art, monuments, and architecture. Save the best and bring it to the City, well not in the City, but nearby. Just, place it off to the side someplace.”

  Ra grinned. “Can I bring my pyramids?”

  Dahlia thought it over. “No leave as-is. I will keep them from being deconstructed.”

  Gaea went to Apple’s side. “What is the first order of business once we get the humans rounded up?”

  “Heal those that are injured and dying. Then let me know once you have everyone assembled in one place. The rest of the planet is going to get dangerous. Helion, you will have to work while I do. So be fast and quick. I like Klimt, Hieronymus Bosch, and Dali.”

  Helion gave her a blank look. “What are those?”

  Dahlia sighed. “Kidnap Jacob from his sylph harem, he is the Art History major. Grab whatever he tells you. Tell him he has full artistic license. What he does not save will not be saved at all, got it?”

  Helion ducked his head. “Yes, Dahlia.”

  “Good. Berith, give the heads up to the City, things are going to be shaky. Whitney, you are coming with me to rearrange things.”

  Whitney grinned. “Extreme Makeover, planet edition!”

  Dahlia pointed to them. “Get to it, especially you, Helion.” She took Whitney’s hand and hauled her into the air. “You and I have some space planning to consider.”

  “Woo!”

  ***

  Paimon huddled in front of an outmoded television he had dug up from a closet. Furcas had sought to throw it away long before, but Paimon had kept it, ever the pack rat. Andy had managed to find an old VHS player and Belial found the boxes of tapes.

  The tapes were marked and organized in neat rows, each one from Dahlia’s childhood. Paimon selected one at random and popped it in. He appeared on the screen with shaggy red hair and a grin on his face, he held a four-year-old Dahlia in his arms. He pointed at the camera. “Look, Dahl-face! Who’s that?”

  “Fuck-ass!” She screamed in delight and giggled.

  The cameraman sighed. “I told you to stop making her call me that, fuckwad.”

  Little Dahlia laughed. “Fuck odd!”

  Paimon glared. “Stop making her swear, Furcas. You’re a terrible influence on our little Dahlia.”

  The cameraman whispered, “Fuck off.”

  In front of the TV, Paimon laughed. “I remember this. I wish I could see it.” Behind him Belial and Andy were rapt, never having seen Dahlia as a child.

  In the movie, Furcas put his arm out. “I want Dahlia. You film for once.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!” Furcas flipped the camera around and thrust it at Paimon. He grabbed Dahlia from him. He lifted her over his head and grinned. “Such a pretty darling!” He held her out and played airplane. “Someday you’ll have wings and soar like this on your own.”

  Dahlia laughed and kicked her feet. “I wanna fly now!”

  Furcas drew her into a hug. “I would help you if I could, but I think the Archangels would find you.”

  “Arcangals!” Dahlia punched the air. “Hit inna face! Bite inna neck.”

  Paimon laughed off camera. “Our training is going so well, the fearsome four-year-old shall storm Heaven!”

  Dahlia smiled. “Heaven sucks!”

  Furcas made a face. “Don’t say sucks. It is not a pretty word.”

  Paimon snorted. “Furcas sucks. Say it, Dahlia!”

  Dahlia grinned. “Fuck-ass sucks!”

  “No.” Furcas scowled at Paimon. “I do not suck.”

  On the floor, Paimon smirked. He said his comeback along with his past self, “No, I’m pretty sure it’s your favorite thing ever.”

  Furcas covered Dahlia’s ears. “Children are present.”

  “Dahlia doesn’t know what sex is. Do you, dear?”

  Dahlia looked at him blankly. He must have made a face because she broke out in laughter. Paimon snickered. “See, she’s innocent.”

  Furcas glared at him. “Oh, keep justifying your behavior, just like you always do.”

  Paimon moved around with the camera. “I will.” He got in Furcas’ face. “Give the camera a kiss, sweetheart.”

  “No.”

  “Yes!”

  “No! Paimon! You are so fucking irritating!”

  “Kiss it! Kiss it!”

  Furcas shifted Dahlia to one arm and decked Paimon; the camera went sideways and hit the ground. Paimon laughed off camera. Furcas glared at him. “Are you drunk again or just high this time?”

  Paimon pointed the camera at himself. He had a bloody nose. “Neither. Is this thing broken now?”

  Furcas held his hand out. “Give it to me, I’ll fix it.”

  “I’ll give it to you for a kiss.”

  Furcas rolled his eyes. “Right, just a kiss I’m sure.”

  Paimon nodded. “Totally. Don’t you trust me?”

  Furcas set Dahlia down on a picnic table and beckoned. “Come on then.”

  “Oh don’t act like you don’t want it.” Paimon kept the camera up and jumped on Furcas. He pushed him down onto the table. Dahlia’s mouth formed an O as she watched them kiss. Paimon kissed Furcas and bit his lower lip open. Furcas scratched at his face. Paimon released him. “Okay, you can film us again.” He threw the camera at Furcas and grabbed Dahlia.

  Furcas picked up the camera. “You asshole! You made me bleed on my shirt. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of this material?”

  Paimon nodded. “Of course I do. All of my clothes are irrevocably stained with yours.” Dahlia kissed Paimon’s cheek. She bit him, hard. Paimon winced, but kept still. “Okay. Dahl-face, stop it.”

  Dahlia bit down harder.

  Furcas laughed. “Doesn’t feel so great does it?”

  Paimon put a hand to her cheek and tapped her. “Stop it, Dahlia. Uncle Paimon does not like that.”

  Furcas laughed so hard the camera shook. “Oh, you can dish it, but can’t take it. Poor you.”

  “Shut up!” The sound of a car pulling into the driveway could be heard off camera. Paimon swore. “Gimme that.” He shrugged and changed his appearance to that of her uncle. He took the camera. Furcas changed to a four-year-old girl with long brown hair.

  Dahlia saw her friend and let go of Paimon’s cheek. “Faith!” Paimon put her down. The two girls ran towards the sandbox to play.

  On the floor, Paimon rubbed his cheek remembering the bite. He hit pause on the tape and sighed. A sad smile touched his lips. “How many more of these tapes do we have?”

  Belial looked up from the box. “Dozens and dozens, then we have some cds. I have one labeled twenty-one run. What is that?”

  Paimon grinned. “Birthday party. We got Dahlia so trashed and Furcas was great he—” His smile faded. “He was great, he…” Paimon shook his head. His hands trembled. “He...Uhm. Shit.” Andy and Belial pulled him into a hug. Paimon curled his legs into his chest and was swallowed by grief.

  ***

  Dahlia and Whitney soared high enough above Earth that they could see the curve of the horizon. They shared a smile. Whitney shrugged and nodded. “You’re sure you can do this without killing everyone down there?”<
br />
  Dahlia stared at her and shook her head. “You are refreshingly unaware of what I can do.”

  Whitney smiled. “Thanks!”

  Dahlia closed her eyes and sent her consciousness into the tectonic plates. She tapped her foot to a beat only she could hear. She flicked her wrist and the plates fused, then reformed along the lines she wanted.

  Dahlia spun in the air and reached out, her attention fixed on Africa and South America. She waved her hands. The two continents moved together. Dahlia swooped and dove, twisting in possession of a song. The Atlantic Ocean grew subsequently smaller as Europe and Asia began to fuse with North America.

  Whitney knew that Dahlia had planned this, but she gaped anyways. “What about Greenland?”

  Dahlia shrugged. She let the island stay as-is. “Australia and Greenland, an island of snow, an island of jungle.”

  “I thought that was desertish.”

  “Was desertish.”

  Gaea flew up from the planet below. She came to a stop in the air next to her mom; her pale green wings fluttered in the thin atmosphere. She watched Dahlia move and the planet change below. She smiled. “We have gathered, healed, and sedated the humans. What now?”

  Dahlia grabbed her daughter by the hand and twirled her. “Amazon, rebuild the forest, all of it. Turn California back into swampland. I want a temperate forest in the north.”

  Gaea looked down. “How much of the north?”

  Dahlia dipped her and a new inland sea formed below them where Colorado used to be. “As much as you feel like. I have a vision of tall mountains and lots of trees, forests that seem to go on forever. As a rule, just make sure there are climates for all Lilliam to live comfortably outside the City if they choose.”

  Gaea nodded and dropped away.

  Dahlia found Japan and flicked it over to hug the coast of what had been Asia, but she kept it an island. She looked at Whitney. “Three large islands. I think I will make the south an island paradise with all the little ones. What do you think?”

  Whitney bit her nail. “I always wanted to go to Fiji.”