by Sating, Paul
Dialphio's unsteady chirp was the sweetest sound. She sniffed back tears. "Before you go, hang on. I have something for you."
"Okay."
I waited as she disappeared around the corner of stacks of books that formed a wall to hide her desk. Within seconds, she came back holding a burlap-wrapped package in one hand. It was small and rectangular.
"What's this?"
Dialphio stared at what she held, finally releasing it to my hands. "It's a gift, one I want you to protect. But," she said firmly, still not relinquishing full control of the gift, "Make me a promise before I hand this over?"
"Of course," I said, more curious than ever. "I hope you know I would do anything for you. If I promise it, it'll happen."
Her expression turned serious, wiping away the sadness and sorrow that haunted her from the moment I walked into The Book Abyss. "You will not open this until you're in the Overworld. The second you step through and that rift closes, you can, but not a minute before that. Understand?"
I knew enough about Dialphio to know when she truly meant something and truly meant to kick my ass if I violated that something. This was another one of those moments.
"I promise." And she released the gift. "Thank you for this … whatever. I'm sure it's awesome."
We shared a soft, sad laugh. It was time for me to leave.
Before I made it to the door, Dialphio grabbed my hand. Her eyes steady as she spoke one last promise. "None of us know what will come of this, Ezekial, but others don't determined your fate unless you allow it. Remain true to your course, to who you are, and don't doubt your path."
"Thank you. Thank you for everything, Dialphio. I'm a better demon because of you."
"Oh, I know," she said with a laugh–cry. "Now do me the favor of repaying that by staying true. You'll understand what I mean one day. At least I hope your bonehead does."
We hugged one last time, and I cranked the door open.
"And stay away from mortal women," Dialphio shouted after me. "They're nothing but trouble!"
I didn't care to hide the tears flowing freely, nor my heaving chest, as I stepped into the pedestrian zone of Old Towne. True to their word, Ralrek and Bilba wrapped themselves around me, escorting me all the way to the rift. The whispered words and stares of the demons enjoying another day in their innocent existence barely registered. The cobblestone gave way to smooth brimstone streets, which my eyes never left until we were at my final Underworld destination.
None of the Founders bothered to ensure I left. Only a small cadre of guards stood by the rift to ensure the mission to rid Hell of Zeke was complete. Ten guards, no less.
"Here," a tall one said, stepping forward and dropping a hefty sack at my feet. It thumped on the brimstone.
"What is this?"
"From a friend," he said, his back to me as he rejoined the squad.
A friend? I hefted it; it was lighter than I expected for as full as it was. It didn't make much noise. Before saying my last goodbyes, I crammed the sack into my solitary suitcase—I learned from my Army debacle.
"Well, I guess this is it," Bilba said, hugging me one last time. I'd lost count of how many hugs I'd received in a single morning. As we embraced, Bilba whispered, "I meant what I said. You are not alone, and we're not letting this go. Don't forget that." And then he pushed me away playfully.
Ralrek took his place. "We've got your six." We slapped each other's backs and then let go, me appreciating him using a mortal military colloquialism on my send-off.
The rift sizzled with the blue flame of the Hellfire. It was the first time I thought about my father since the sentence was passed. Right now, he was probably at work, maintaining that eternal fire, the flame of annihilation, the very thing that would separate us from each other forever. I wondered if he was bothered by knowing he would never see me again.
I paused at the mouth of the rift, aware of the guards watching. The Council and their armed thugs could kiss my ass. These last few seconds with my best friends were mine to enjoy.
"You guys take care of each other," I said, gulping down what would be a seemingly endless string of sobs. "I love you both like brothers."
They had their arms around each other, and I hoped they would be all right. As I turned, they shouted the same in return.
As the blinding flash of light obliterated Hell for the last time, I finally released my boiling pain. No more time for goodbyes.
***
"Seattle, huh? Why?"
From the roof of the hotel that would be my home for the immediate future, I looked at the streets below, across the blocks stretching away toward Elliott Bay. The Colman Dock was abuzz with mortal activity. Mortals. My new tribe.
The city was the location of my first visit to the Overworld and being back, I felt a certain connection spark to life. I felt energized, as if my connection to the city had been severed too early. There was only one answer to why I selected Seattle as my Abandonment—one of the few favors the Council did for me. Bilba told me sending me to a destination of my choosing was required, not a favor. The only favor I received from them was the sack full of mortal money at my departure, more than I could spend in the next year. Them, or the mysterious friend it had come from in a sack, delivered by a guard.
I faced Cancer, thinking of the wonderful things she taught me about servitude during our shared time in Iraq. She'd never met Aries, but something told me she would have gotten along with him. They were one and the same.
"You chose it too," I reminded her.
"Because of you," she laughed.
After her own Abandonment, a punishment dished out within an hour of them doing the same to me, I was honored that she accepted my invite to join me in Seattle. More than that, I was grateful she hadn't been killed by Seraph—though I doubt she would be so bold in the Council chamber, around her peers. Getting Cancer to the Overworld was the one way to ensure her safety. Accepting her Abandonment was the only safe solution, Cancer realized. But I knew it was not only about that. Leaving her family had to be difficult, but she also felt horrible about what happened with me. The price I paid was too steep, she said, and she could not let me suffer alone.
I fought her, not wanting Abandonment, and the price it required, but she made me see the sense of giving up her Abilities forever for the chance to live a life where she did not have to look over her shoulders at every turn, waiting for a Seraph-shaped threat. After everything that happened in Baghdad and with the Council, I couldn't blame her if she'd wanted to stay as far away from me, and the trouble that seemed permanently attached to my side, as possible. But she hadn't rejected me. In fact, she jumped at the chance, telling me we would find plenty of opportunities to continue serving the mortals. I think Aries would have liked that.
"We can have a lot of fun here, I think," I said, staring out over Elliott Bay, the water below rippling in the constant wind, the backdrop of mountain peaks and valleys off in the far distance. "It's a beautiful place."
"It is," she said, turning away from me to take in the natural beauty unlike anything we have—had—in Hell. "I imagine the Council will track us."
I tried not to think about the Council or anything related to that realm, except for the handful of demons who held a special place in my heart. I didn't want to think about the Council—except to wish for its self-destruction—or my powerlessness to affect change for the innocent demons who would suffer. It was too painful. To survive without breaking my mind, I needed to focus on my reality—living as a mortal in Seattle.
"No matter where we go, they'll track us, likely for the rest of our lives. I don't expect any peace."
Next to me, Cancer nodded, still staring out over the water.
I drew a deep breath. "This is home now. And there are mortals in need. We can do a lot of good for others here."
"We can," Cancer said with a satisfied exhale. I wish I felt as calm. "We will. By the way, can you still use your magic stick?"
"Are you hitting on m
e?"
She slapped my arm, but with a broad smile across her face. "You're gross."
I winked at her. "I haven't used Creed yet. I'm not really ready to call any Council attention to myself. I'd rather we start our good works project."
Thoughts of Aries flooded my mind. If he could see me, what would he think? Was I, at least, making headway in correcting my wrongs against him? Now was my chance. The Council might have accidentally given me a gift.
My hand went to the satchel at my side.
"Guess I can open this now," I said. I wanted to wait until I had privacy, but looking down at the streets of Seattle, my new home, and out over the water, the compulsion to unveil Dialphio's gift was strong.
I had carried the package to the roof just in case the desire to open it came over me. It sat at my feet as Cancer and I talked about the mortal future we would share. Now, as our conversation was winding down, and the sun was starting its descent out of the endless sea of blue—that I no longer feared floating off into, still not understanding gravity—the time had come.
Cancer watched as I untied the strings binding the burlap together.
She watched as my hands shook as I pulled the burlap back.
She smiled at my shock when I read the title on the book cover.
The Histories of the Balance.
I slid the note tucked into the fold of the cover from the book. It was in my boss's—ex-boss's—handwriting.
"What does it say?" Cancer asked, searching my face.
When I pulled my head up and roared with laughter, Cancer stepped back, eyes wide, and then laughed herself. "I hope that's a good sign and not one that you've lost your mind?"
"Not at all," I said, showing her the note.
Cancer read it. "She's giving you homework assignments, all the way from the Underworld."
"That's Dialphio," I said, a film of grief falling over me. "You would have liked her."
Cancer was there, rubbing my shoulder, handing the note back to me. "I'm sure I would have."
As my finger and thumb pinched it, Creed warmed against my hip. "No sense dwelling on it, right?" I said, turning to enjoy the sight of the descending sun and the way it lit her radiant cheeks. She still stared out over the water, its reddening light dancing in her brown eyes. "Plus, I have a legacy to fulfill."
THE END
Abandoned in the Overworld. Left to fend for himself. What does Zeke do without Bilba and Ralrek in the only place where demons can be killed?
Be on the look out for "The Pride of Leo," book 5 of the Zodiac, coming in 2021!
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Acknowledgments
This book's Acknowledgments section will be different that anything I have done before.
None of the Zodiac books would happen if it weren't for those immediate loved ones; my wife, Madeline; daughters, Nikki and Alex; and my best friend, Kevin Baker. Cindy Niespodzianski, my editor, is such a key to these stories, someone who honors me with her talents. J. Caleb, the visual might behind bringing Zeke to life on these covers. I am forever grateful to all of my Patrons on Patreon; the cast of Paul's Epic Peeps who beta and advance read these books so you don't have to slog through garbage; all of my newsletter subscribers; my Audio Fiction podcast fans; the friends and family who support and encourage me. Writing these books to take you on fun adventures with Zeke and the gang takes a lot to pull off.
But this book's Acknowledgments, though I love the aforementioned people, is all about Adam Burke.
On the weekend of July 18th 2020, Adam lost his long battle with cancer (yes, I realize how surreal it may seem that I'm dedicating this acknowledgment to him, considering the disease he died from and the name of the Zodiac sign for this book). I'm not being insensitive; we simply hoped this would not have happened, at all, though he knew it was coming, but for many years yet. This was never how it was supposed to be.
I dedicated The Gemini Paradox to Adam, but never told him, because I wanted it to be a surprise. You see, Adam came into my life when Jon Grilz of the Small Town Horror podcast (and now of Creepy podcast), promoted my Subject: Found podcast. Right away, Adam became a Patron, a fan who donates money to the show every month. He did that for years. Not only did he contribute to help pay podcasting bills so I could continue creating art for free for everyone, but he bought every one of my books, and as we became friends, he became even more supportive, in more important ways.
Ask any writer friend you have; writing is tough and lonely. No matter how many people you have on your team, you never really know if the story you're putting out into the world is good. Yes, there will always be things that can be fixed. Internet trolls are everywhere, and writers aren't free from them. And authors have to put a lot more than just blood, sweat, and tears into our stories. Each book an author writes is a peek into the person's life, not only at that moment, but all the paths they've taken to get where they are. No matter how numb we may seem to sensitive topics and situations (we're not), publishing books is a very intimate event in an author's life—each and every time we do it. We treasure those supportive people in our lives. People just like Adam. They're very good for us.
When a book doesn't do as well as we think it will/can/should, when it flops and is received with silence. That hurts. A lot. We put ourselves out to the world in the form of fictional characters, settings, and even worlds. We open our minds and hearts to build the stories readers enjoy. We are open for analysis, by every single reader holding or listening to our book.
Laying ourselves open for (literally, if we're lucky, the world) strangers is an incredibly vulnerable thing to do. And rejection can get us spiraling into the center of a mental and emotional storm.
Adam routinely checked in with me. Every time we chatted, regardless of what the conversation was about, his courage and strength reminded me to stop being a baby, and to get to work on making the next book better than the one I had just finished. He would playfully—sort of—yell at me when he felt I was giving too much away for free. He would get on his Facebook and repost my book and podcast posts so his friends knew about my creations.
Adam and I were in discussions about me telling his story through a character in a future series. We never got to finish those discussions as cancer took more and more of his strength. But Adam's sharing of his life's stories has given me enough that I will be able to immortalize him in that character. I just hope I do him and his memory justice.
He did all this and more while fighting cancer; a ravaging beast that tortured him for years. There were times when he suffered greatly, and times when remission gave him hope. There were times when chemo kicked his ass, but those times never lasted, because Adam always told me he was going to "kick cancer's fucking ass."
Adam did not lose in the end, he just wore out. Along the way, he taught a lot of people a lot of things. He encouraged everyone with his "no quit" attitude. He made people laugh. He reminded everyone who came into contact with him that the world can be healed if we all simply loved one another. He taught us what courage looked like. He embodied what it means to never quit.
To him, I will forever be grateful, and though I am very aware that this tiny acknowledgment does not make up for my failure to tell him about his Gemini dedication, I hope, in some way, it solidifies the legacy he left behind
.
Remembered always; Adam Burke, warrior.
Also By Paul Sating
Fiction
Fantasy
The Zodiac Series
The Fall of Aries (Free novella for newsletter subscribers)
Bitter Aries
The Horn of Taurus
The Gemini Paradox
Cancer's Curse
The Pride of Leo (2021)
Crown of Thieves
Birth of a Thief (Free for newsletter subscribers)
Horror
The Scales
12 Deaths of Christmas
The Plant (Free for newsletter subscribers)
Suspense
RIP
Chasing the Demon
Nonfiction
Novel Idea to Podcast: How to Sell More Books Through Podcasting
Podcasts
Audio Fiction with Paul Sating
(Available on all major podcast apps)
About The Author
Paul Sating is an author, podcaster, and self-professed coolest dad on the planet, hailing from the Pacific Northwest of the United States. At the end of his military career, he decided to reconnect with his first love (that wouldn't get him in trouble with his wife) and once again picked up the pen. Years on, he has published eight novels and he hasn't even screwed up his podcasts, which have garnered over a million downloads.
When he's not working on stories, you can find him talking to himself in his backyard working on failed landscaping projects or hiking around the gorgeous Olympic Peninsula. He is married to the patient and wonderful, Madeline, and has two daughters—thus the reason for his follicle challenges.
Find out more about his other books and free podcasts from his website: paulsating.com.