by Mur Lafferty
With a hiss, the flames were gone. Seven wet souls stood in front of us, too shocked to go on with their planned evisceration of my friend.
The woman we’d spoken with the night before, Gloria, held her hand out and stared at it.
“There,” Daniel said. I could tell he was much more nervous than he sounded. “Your torment has ended. You are free to move on to your paradise.”
Gloria looked at the angel guarding the gate. He bowed his head and stepped aside, freeing the entrance to Heaven.
She flung herself, her very wet self, around Daniel’s neck, weeping and thanking him. He dropped the bucket and staggered, clumsily returning the hug. They left him, after each hugging or kissing him.
Trying not to smile, I handed him a towel. He wiped his face and jacket. “You want to explain to me what happened?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet. I’m working on it,” I said, putting the towel and bucket back in my backpack. “Till I figure it out, we have more lustful souls to free.”
He frowned for a moment. “We’re out of water. I’m sure there are more souls around here than that small group.”
I stared at him. “Dude.” I pointed to the bucket where he’d dropped it. It was upright and full of water again.
“How?” he asked, his eye wide.
“For God’s sake, Daniel. We’re in the afterlife. I created a house, garden, a fake you, and a relationship out of nothing but core desire. You think I can’t dream up a little water? Give it a try.”
“Wow, you think of everything,” he said, sighing. “But you look like you need something.”
I cocked my head. “What?”
“A shower.” He flung the bucket at me. It drenched me immediately and I gasped as the cold water soaked me. By the time I’d wiped the water and my stringy hair from my eyes, he was running off, laughing.
“You utter and complete ass!” I yelled, picking up the bucket and running after him.
The bucket got heavier as I ran, and I looked down to see it filling with water again. Some fiery souls burned ahead of us, where Daniel was running. As much as I wanted to get him back, I remembered what was important.
There were a lot of souls in purgatory to get to.
CHAPTER TWO
The wind in purgatory is ranker than the wind in heaven. Heaven had seemed bland and uninteresting at times, but it was a lot better than the stale scent of sweat and fear. Sometimes it’s hard to notice the absence of bad things until the bad things are introduced. Or reintroduced.
Daniel had been an absolution machine once he’d discovered his power to free the burning lustful souls into Heaven. I think he had a spiteful glory in his realization that he not only had the god-like ability to grant the souls freedom, but also to throw more souls into the utter chaos that was heaven.
Kazuko and I had finally stopped following him, although it had taken some convincing to get her to slow down. Daniel ran around with his bucket, dousing anyone he saw. He outdistanced us, and I put my hand on Kazuko’s arm. She gave me a look that sent chills through my spine, and I wondered briefly what would happen to me if she sliced me open here in purgatory.
“Just wait,” I said. “Let him do what he needs to do. I don’t think anyone is a threat to him right now, and we’re not keeping up with him anyway.”
She looked pointedly at the angel standing at the gate to Heaven, letting the doused souls by, but watching Daniel closely.
I snorted. “You’re really thinking of taking on an angel?”
“I am bound to protect and guide you both,” she said.
“Well, wait till we need you. Let’s just sit and hang out for a bit. He clearly doesn’t need us right now.”
She acquiesced and we sat on the barren ground. I put my backpack behind my head and lay down, stretching out my tired muscles.
“He is upset.” It wasn’t a question.
“Clearly,” I agreed. “You guys seem to have been through a lot of shit without me.”
“He’s lost his eye. Twice. The same eye.”
I squirmed a bit. “Well yeah, that tends to piss people off. If it were possible on Earth. Which it really isn’t.”
“The second time he lost it for you.”
I didn’t answer her. I didn’t know how. When someone voluntarily loses an organ for you through violent measures, “thanks” doesn’t seem to be sufficient enough. I said as much to Kazuko.
“Then perhaps you should say, ‘thanks a lot,’” she said.
I rolled over to look at her. She stared at me with an impassive look, but I suddenly laughed. It seemed very loud in this land that had heard no laughter for eons. “You have a sense of humor!”
She rewarded me with a very small smile. “Do not tell Daniel. It does him good to trust me as a stoic guardian. It’s your emotions he worries about.”
“Me? Why should he worry about me?”
“You awoke in him great confusion and distress when your feelings were revealed. He has been concerned for you since. He still is.”
I leaned back on my pack again. “I’m fine. Really. You guys have been through a lot, but so have I, just not quite in the same way.”
“Do you feel the way you did before?”
“No.”
“Ah.”
I didn’t know what she meant by ‘ah.’ Perhaps it made things easier. Perhaps it made things more complicated. I didn’t get a chance to ask, because then Daniel came up to us, panting and grinning.
“I think we’re done here. You guys ready to move on?”
#
We did the same to the others. We told the wrathful, envious, prideful, slothful, gluttonous, and greedy that their time was done. Some argued and said they needed to go through the purgatories of the other sins for their full penance, but one smoldering look from Daniel’s eye and a glance at his katana convinced them their penance was over.
Kazuko and I just watched. We passed the time discussing exactly how Daniel had gotten the know-how to use the ancient sword.
“Of course, he couldn’t make his body follow his brain’s commands at first,” she continued. “But in time the muscles did what the mind told them.”
“’Over time’?” I asked. “I thought you haven’t had a lot of time since I left.”
“The trip to regain Odin’s wisdom took longer for us than it did for you,” she said.
I watched Daniel remove a heavy rock from a prideful woman’s back and help her stand to look him in the eye.
“I don’t really see why he needs me at this point,” I whispered.
Kazuko was not a fidgety woman, but her sudden stillness caught my attention. “What do you mean?”
I got the feeling I was walking on a very tender subject and wasn’t sure how to get out of it. “I mean he has you as a guide and protection, and he seems like he can take pretty good care of himself anyway. He’s got the wisdom of a god; about the only thing he lacks is the common sense to use it. But he really doesn’t need me.”
She didn’t draw her sword, but she didn’t need to. Her look terrified me. “I would respectfully ask that you never say that in his presence. You do not know what he went through to get you back. If you question your worth to him, you will show yourself to be blinder than he.”
I blushed and backpedaled. “Look, I know he got me back and paid a huge price. He did it because we’re best friends. We’re like brother and sister. But I’m just saying I don’t know why I’m on this mission to hell. You two have brains and brawn. I have nothing.”
“You just answered your own question. You are the person closest to him. Whether you acknowledge it or not, he needs you.”
I nodded slowly. “That’s fair. Do you think he’ll ever tell me what you two went through?”
She watched Daniel with her eyes narrowed as if trying to read him. “I do not know.”
“Will you?”
“No.”
“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” I lapsed into silence. Daniel had do
ne his final scout to clear purgatory and once he reached us, we were off.
He hadn’t been very chatty since taking on his new responsibility. He traveled from purgatory punishment to punishment, staring straight ahead and saying little. When we camped, sometimes he would talk about the souls he had freed, but otherwise he remained silent. I held back from him now, unsure of how to start a conversation. I tried to wrack my brains for the conversations we’d had, the times he’d been upset and I’d been able to make him smile, the times I reminded him what was important. But laughter felt cheap here, and how could I remind him of something more important than what he was doing?
The gates leading out of purgatory – or, as most souls saw them, into purgatory – were nothing special. To us they resembled a picket fence leading from the purgatory of the proud into a flower-filled field.
I had a momentary thought of Jet and missed her terribly. When all is dire, what could be better than a Labrador licking your face?
Daniel frowned. “Where the hell is this?”
“Um, not sure. Still not hell, obviously,” I said. “Shouldn’t you know?”
“Odin wasn’t omniscient,” he said. “I can tell you the genealogy of Loki, both parents and children, including those recently living in Norway, and strange factoids from Japanese and Russian mythology, but this Christian literary stuff is your bag.”
The field was reminiscent of Elysium, with the marble buildings, glorious fields, and perfect weather. No one seemed to be tortured here, even a little bit. The men-all men, no women-lounged about in the fields, lying on blankets, eating, reading, or dozing.
The man nearest the gate sprawled on a blanket, playing a lyre. He lay on his back and frowned at the sky.
When we approached him, he brightened and sat up.
“Someone new! Someone new! Oh this is glorious!” He put down his lyre and clapped.
“Er, new?” I asked.
“Oh yes, we haven’t had anyone new in so long, and the company is getting quite dull. This must mean Rome has returned; tell me it approaches its glory once again!”
Daniel and I exchanged looks. “I am Daniel, and these are Kate and Kazuko.” He stuck out his hand.
The man stood up and struck a pose, ignoring Daniel’s hand. “In life I was known as Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, but you can call me Nero. Rome’s greatest Emperor.”
Another man came up to us, adorned in a toga and leather sandals. “Hold, there, Nero. Second greatest, at best.”
Nero’s lip curled. “Octavius,” he said, tipping his head toward the newcomer.
Octavius bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet such colorful people. Please, come and tell us about Rome.”
I realized I had to stop the assumptions. “Sorry, we’re not from Rome, we’re just traveling through on our way… somewhere.” The words “to hell” died in my throat.
Octavius paused. “You are not emperors who come from Rome?”
“No, we are just wandering through,” Daniel said. “Where are we, anyway?”
Octavius’s voice became hard and annoyed. “This is the flowering valley, the place where the kings and Emperors of the Rome come to rest.”
I snapped my fingers. “Oh yeah! You’re pagan so you can’t go to Heaven, but being divinely chosen,” I fought the urge to make air quotes, “you get to hang here for eternity.”
“Until we are purified,” Nero said. “But it has been an awfully long time.”
“Nero. Aren’t you the guy who danced and sang while your city and people burned?” Daniel asked.
“Ah, yes.” Nero sighed and got a distant look in his eye. “It was so beautiful.”
Octavius snorted. “Fool. You shame the empire. It’s a wonder you got here.”
Nero returned to us and focused on his forebear. “Oh? And I’m sure the gods look favorably on those who sleep their way into office.”
Octavius drew himself up. “I was divinely chosen – the gods smile on their children’s movements.”
“Especially when their children murder other peoples’ children to get what they want,” Nero said.
Octavius colored. “You impudent fool. I did what was best for Rome. And no children burned while you laughed at your city’s flames?”
I looked around at the beautiful field of flowers. This was certainly better than those in purgatory proper had it. I tugged at Daniel’s elbow.
“Please excuse us, emperors. I must speak with my friend,” I said.
They barely looked at us as they continued to bicker. I pulled Daniel and Kazuko away from them.
“You’re not seriously thinking of letting them into Heaven, are you?” I asked.
“It seems to be my purpose,” Daniel said, but he frowned at his feet.
“They’re horrific people! I’m sure even Caligula is here!”
“That guy from the Morrisey song?”
“Do you wonder why a gloomy ‘80s British pop star wrote a song about him? He was cruel, insane, and probably the worst emperor Rome ever saw! But because he was ‘divinely chosen,’ he gets to sit around here and do God knows what!”
“So what do I do?”
I grinned. “You and Odin are like chocolate and peanut butter. You seem to be working well together. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
#
It took some convincing, but we got all of the emperors assembled at the gate of Purgatory. I tried not to let the lineup intimidate me. Among the Roman emperors were Caligula, who chewed on a finger bone, and Caesar himself.
I stared at them all. “These people would never make it past the pride part of purgatory,” I whispered to Kazuko.
“If they even made it that far,” she said. I nodded.
Daniel’s voice took on the quality of a carnie. “Step right up, come one, come all, come and see the greatest thing man has ever offered his fellow man! The road to ultimate salvation is open to you, all you must do is pass one small test. One wee little test. God knows you were divinely chosen, however, you know how bureaucracy works. This is merely a formality.”
Everyone nodded. They had all been heads of state at some time or another.
Nero stood at the head of the line; claiming friendship with us gave him that right. Octavius stood close behind him.
“Now, if my lovely assistant will come join me at the front of the line, we’ll get to the festivities!” he said, motioning me to join him.
“Listen closely: there once was a god by the name of Odin,” Daniel began. “He had many children, but one, Baldur, was beloved of all. He was so beloved that his mother called to all things in the world for a vow not to harm him. It helped that prophecies said his death would start a cascade of destruction that would end in Ragnarök, the end of the world. She neglected to get a promise from the weed mistletoe, however, and the god was slain by a spear made of the weed.
“This death did indeed cause many other deaths, starting with the poor fool who was tricked into throwing the spear, the blind god Hod. At Baldur’s funeral pyre, Thor kicked the dwarf Lit into the fire - no one knows why. Baldur’s wife followed the dwarf, throwing herself onto the burning ship. Lastly, Baldur’s horse was led onto the ship to die with him. The end times did eventually come, fulfilling the prophecy.”
Daniel took a deep breath. I bit my lip and waited. “At the funeral, Odin took on a disguise and whispered something into his dead son’s ear as the funeral ship was being prepared. No one knows what the All-Father said, and for the rest of eternity, he tricked people with the riddle of what he said.”
The emperors were fidgeting now and I poked Daniel to make him get on with it. “That’s somewhat unfair, I think. That’s a riddle as lame as, “what do I have in my pocket?” I’m going to make this easy on you. In order to leave this eternity for your just rewards, all you need to do is riddle me this: What three-letter word turns a boy into a man?”
I thought for a moment. “Bar Mitzvah” was made of too many letters, as were “first fak
e ID” and “selective service.” I was glad for a moment that I wasn’t being tested here. But how was he planning on judging them based on one word?
Nero swaggered forward and leaned in. “Nex,” he whispered.
I glanced at Daniel, who nodded slowly. Obviously he understood Latin now. “Clever to answer in Latin, Nero. Go stand over there, please.”
Octavius had his turn next. He walked forward, rubbing his chin. “Interesting question. Everyone has his own answer of what made him a man, but does that apply to all?”
Daniel shrugged, smiling. “That’s your call.”
Octavius thought for a moment. “The thing that applies to all men would be age.”
Daniel motioned him to form a new group away from Nero.
I caught on quickly to his plans and helped him sort the men. It wasn’t always easy; they gave us answers that weren’t three letters (in any language,) confusing answers (such as Claudius’s “sun” - or maybe he meant “son,”) creepy answers (“sex” and “boy” came up more than once,) and, of course, many answered simply “war” or, like Nero, “nex.”
Daniel had whispered to me that “nex” was Latin for death, specifically of the violent variety.
Caligula was an odd one. He spat out the bone he was chewing on and smiled and raised his hands. “When I lay ill, my family prayed to the gods that I recover. They pledged their lives in place of mine, offering to give what was most precious in order that I might live to benefit Rome. I recovered, miraculously, and became divine in my own way. I kept their promise and had them slain, making sure they paid their debt to the gods. I had the right, because I was a god myself. The day I became a man, I became a god. So that is my answer. ‘God.’”
“Wow. Okay. You go hang with Nero, dude. We’ll make sure you get a good seat,” Daniel said.
Gaius Julius Caesar, the one we all studied in school, walked forward somberly and merely whispered, “God.” Daniel and I looked at each other and motioned him to stand with Octavius.
Few others answered “age” or “god,” most preferring to answer what was the most personal to them. When we were done, we had six groups. Octavius, Claudius, Caesar, and Vitellus stood in a small group of four men, while Nero and Caligula stood together.