Grave Humor

by RJ Blain

  I frowned, remembering the carvings in the catacombs. “But wouldn’t that make His face the face of humanity? The angels look human. The carvings looked human. His skull was human, but an old human—he lacked a sphenoid.”

  The devil’s sly smile chilled me. “Your Eoghan lacks a sphenoid, too.”

  That caught my attention, and I straightened, regarding the antique with open curiosity. “Let me feel.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I want to feel your head.”

  Eoghan scowled. “What nonsense is this?”

  “Just humor her.” The devil rose and approached Eoghan, waving for me to join them.

  I did, stepping closer to the archangels. The unsettled feeling remained, but it didn’t strengthen.

  Eoghan heaved a sigh and tilted his head towards me. “I do not know why I’m agreeing to this.”

  “It’s not worth the fight, and it proves many things.” The devil patted Eoghan’s shoulder. “It establishes some things for her.”

  I touched above Eoghan’s eye and applied pressure enough to feel the shape of the bone beneath my fingertips, moving to the temple towards where the sphenoid would be in a modern person. My fingers located a slight ridge marking where the frontal bone extended beyond where it would in someone like me, a homo sapiens. “Oh.”

  The devil took hold of my hand, placing my fingertips near my temple where I’d located the ridge on Eoghan’s skull. “Feel.”

  “There’s…” I frowned, giving my skull a rub to discover I had a similar ridge to Eoghan’s. I’d rarely rubbed my temples; I’d been told early I could die if I damaged that portion of my skull. I’d learned later in life my parents had been bullshitting me, and it took quite a bit of force to kill someone with a blow to the temple. “That doesn’t feel right.”

  “It doesn’t feel right if you were homo sapiens,” the devil agreed. “That is why your DNA record is unusual. It’s because you are not homo sapiens. But because the CDC lacks DNA records for what you are, they could not match the missing fragments of your DNA. As your arm was injured rather than your head, they had no reason to do a scan of your skull. Had a scan of your skull been done, it would have been discovered you lack a sphenoid. That would have led to some studying on the CDC’s part, especially as both of your parents are homo sapiens.”

  Great. I’d gone from weird to weirder. I rubbed the odd ridge I’d never noticed lurking beneath my skin. Had I never noticed it, or had I assumed everyone had the same ridge? “How do you know this?”

  “I am who I am, and I am known to cheat as often as possible. It is one of the perks of being the Lord of Hell.”

  Right. I danced with the devil. I should have known. “Does Gordon have this same ridge?”

  “Of course not. He’s homo sapiens. His sphenoid is present. Do not ask me why humans evolved to have an extra bone in their skulls. Evolution is a strange thing, and He sees no need to circumvent nature’s intent for all He is a controlling divine. Most of the heavenly host enjoys controlling everything within their domain. I enjoy how much it vexes Him to keep his promise to humanity, for them to retain their free will even beyond the End of Days. Humans are delightfully rebellious children.”

  If I wanted a straight answer out of the devil, I’d have to ask him directly. “What is the third aspect of Death?”

  “Life beyond,” the devil answered. “Azrael ensures the natural order of the universe through death is maintained. The second facet ensures death is there for all. The third is the release from death, and is considered to be the kindest of the three facets; without the third aspect, there would be no life beyond death. In truth, Azrael is less of a shepherd than the third aspect. As far as the aspects go, Azrael is the one who interferes with mortals. The other two aspects exist, although the second aspect is the one that gets the worst reputation of the lot.”

  Eoghan scowled. “Azrael picks and chooses.”

  The archangel snickered. “I do pick and choose. This is a truth. I safeguard only the souls deserving of Him. I am His mercy in a mortal’s final hour. Some may say this is a cruel thing for those who have not earned His regard. But it is not a precise truth that I often interfere with mortals. Like the other aspects, I merely need to exist for my work to be done. But I do have more freedoms than the others. This is not a bad thing. Death could continue on without me, although it would bring unnecessary hardship to worthy souls.”

  I figured Eoghan’s age and his beliefs put him at odds with the archangel, and if given a chance, I’d throw the two together to watch them posture. “Director Hammel wanted Eoghan to bring his wife back to life. Wait, no. I think he wanted the magic involved in wakening Eoghan to accomplish this.”

  The archangels cackled their laughter, the devil joined in, and if Eoghan rolled his eyes much harder, someone would have to pick his unconscious body off the floor.

  “What’s so funny about that? I mean, it’s not a bad idea. There had to be a lot of magic involved with waking an antique from a bazillion year slumber. And he wanted to raise the three dead in the catacombs. The ones you invoked, Azrael.”

  If looks could kill, Eoghan would have escorted me directly to my grave. “A bazillion years? An antique?”

  “Well, you are an antique. You’re a nice antique, but you’re definitely an antique.”

  Yep, I’d be joining my stray in the doghouse as soon as I got him one.

  “The fates,” the Archangel of Death replied. “I invoked the fates from their slumber and released them on this world. They are not what mythology believes; Atropos is not a fate representing death. She truly represents the end of all journeys. Conclusions. Death is an end of a journey, but it’s also the beginning of one. It is but a moment in a mortal’s life. Clotho is the fate he could make the most use of, as she could spin for a new soul a match for the woman he desires. She won’t, though. Every soul is a piece of art, and she celebrates their every flaw. Lachesis would merely snip his thread to draw the attention of one of the aspects of death. Technically, she comes close to violating the universal laws, but she knows her art well—and she knows precisely how to snip a thread to keep from unraveling the whole tapestry of life. They are displeased their hard-earned rest has been disturbed. It was not supposed to be their time. I have tangled their precious weave. But they will also be pleased with me as soon as their annoyance wears off. I have ushered in many new possibilities this era, and they are all creatures who thrive on such possibilities.”

  If I kept trying to make sense of what the archangel told me, I’d develop a migraine within the hour. “I don’t think Director Hammel understands who the three in the catacombs are,” I admitted. “I had no idea they were the three fates.”

  The devil snorted. “No, Hammel is a rather ignorant fool. He is so determined to reach his goal that he does not care who or what he destroys in the process. I love some good, wholesome destruction, but there is a time and a place for all things. He has no regard for anyone other than himself. I look forward to my time with him in my many hells.”

  Right. “I guess that leaves me with my last question.”

  “Really? Your last one?” The devil grinned at me. “You are an everlasting fountain of questions. I give it less than five minutes before you have another one. It is your nature to question things.”

  I scowled. “What does it mean for us now that all of the aspects of death are awakened?” I considered how the devil addressed the director, and I decided I liked slicing off his title. It transformed him from an authority to something far less than what he’d once been. “Will Hammel’s actions hurt us? Us being the world in general.”

  “And while that is technically two questions, it took two questions to the one you really want to know, so I’ll let it slide,” the devil teased. “Hammel, in a strange way, has helped more than he has harmed. He had the greatest capacity for harm, but that future didn’t come to pass. He has the potential to bring harm still, but it is an unlikely fate. What he has done is finis
h my daughter’s work and has restored death, both the event and the being, to its rightful order. My daughter merely halted what could have become the absence of death, something that would have ushered in the End of Days. It would have taken the end to allow for new beginnings. All life needs a seed, and the fate she prevented would have stopped death itself—and prevented rebirth, too. Her actions allowed death to awaken now.”

  Eoghan’s eyes narrowed. “Who sought the absence of death?”

  The devil shook his head. “They’re either dead, converted, or enduring eternal torment at the hands of vengeful mummies. They are beyond your reach now.”

  Grunting, Eoghan went to the refrigerator, pulled out one of my honey rocks, plunked it onto my cutting board, grabbed my knife, and slammed the blade through the melon, slicing it in half. My brows shot up at the ease he’d cracked the damned thing open. With terrifying accuracy, he took his temper out on my favorite treat, and when he had sliced it into edible portions, he grabbed a plate, loaded it up, and put it on the table. “These are Anwen’s. Should you try to touch them, I will cut your hands from your wrists and feed your blood to Gordon.”

  Okay. The archangels, the angel, the devil, and anyone else in my house needed to leave so I could make an attempt to lure the antique to my bed.

  The archangels snickered.

  “Patience, Anwen,” the devil chided.

  I didn’t want to be patient. I wanted my honey rock, and I wanted to forever evict myself from the pool of unwanted virgins. I reached between Michael and Gabriel to snag a slice. “Honey rocks for breakfast, and more honey rocks for second breakfast. This is how to live life.”

  Eoghan smirked.

  As long as he provided honey rocks, he could be as smug as he wanted. I could handle anything when I had honey rocks to enjoy.

  “I recommend a greenhouse, sun lamps should you decide to live in a place that is not conducive to year-round musk melons. Keep the seeds. She is a threat to the local supply.” The devil pushed the plate closer to me. “You need the extra calories. There’s one more thing we need to discuss before we can depart and leave you to your business. The nodes here will be a problem for you.”

  Eoghan grunted and went to work cleaning my cutting board and knife. “We need to find them and make certain they are safeguarded.”

  “One is easy enough to find. It’s a static object, and it’s quite good at disguising itself. When you find it, you’ll likely come to the conclusion I’ve already reached: some things are best left alone. The Book of Life can protect itself—and I would like to watch someone try to violate Azrael’s chosen sanctuary now that he’s awake. Call for me, Azrael. Such things can’t be missed.”

  The archangel snorted. “I will consider it.”

  “He loves me,” the devil informed the other two archangels.

  They sighed.

  Understanding archangels did have heads made it a lot easier to accept that they could sigh. The normality of their heads would baffle me for the rest of my life, but I’d get over it eventually.

  Michael turned towards me. “It amuses us that humans expect anything other than that. Man was made in His image—and He was made in the image of man by the universe itself. Why would we angels also not be a reflection of this?”

  “Why did the one skeleton in the catacombs have odd thumbs and an extra toe on each foot?” I asked. “Angels don’t, but you also lack in a sphenoid.”

  “Human curiosity is such an interesting thing. The one you looked upon is the one modern humans call the first creation. That’s not quite accurate, but it’s what humans like to believe.”

  My eyes widened. “You mean Adam?”

  “I do.”

  “Eve wasn’t with him.” There’d been others with him, but they’d been from other places. “That’s sad.”

  Azrael patted my shoulder. “Just because their earthly remains do not reside together doesn’t mean she’s not with him. Their seeds of life have been replanted many times, and they always find one another in life. Her earthly remains have long since departed, returned to dust. His are interred as an eternal reminder of what had once been, safe within those catacombs. One day, come visit the catacombs, and I will teach you of all those who reside there. They are the true history of this world. You would make an excellent custodian of the grounds.”

  According to Eoghan’s expression, he did not appreciate the archangel attempting to edge in on his turf. “No attacking the Archangel of Death, Eoghan. I’m not sure I would have the time to take up that duty. I have made other commitments.”

  “You could easily handle both, and your antique would enjoy your ventures into the catacomb. You would be welcome there, Eoghan.”

  That caught Eoghan’s attention. “I would be?”

  “Of course. It’s as much of a sanctuary for you as it is for me. We may not see eye-to-eye on many matters, but we can cohabit the same space. I’m sure she’ll be amused by our relentless bickering.”

  I turned to the devil. “Can I kill them?”

  Lucy snickered. “You would miss them both were you to do such a thing.”

  While that was true, I still scowled. “Can we redirect this conversation back to the nodes?”

  The devil grinned and showed off his perfect teeth. “Technically, it is one node, one thing of power, and a person.”

  “The Book of Life being the thing of power?”

  “Correct.”

  “There’s a person who is a node?” Eoghan asked, his tone dismayed.

  “The person is a person, not a node. The person is touched by the node, which is where the confusion is coming into play. The person is a conduit.”

  Eoghan’s expression relaxed. “Ah. Conduits are a different matter entirely. Mostly harmless.”

  “Unless you drop them on a node and piss them off,” the devil corrected.

  That made the antique’s eyes widen. “That could be quite dangerous.”

  “Why could this person be dangerous if they’re near a node and angry?” I asked.

  “Conduits often amplify the power of other people or things. Anger is often a trigger for a conduit’s abilities awakening. Your Eoghan can be a conduit in the right conditions, as can Azrael.”

  The Archangel of Death shrugged. “It happens from time to time, I suppose. And we do not discuss Eoghan’s abilities as a conduit should he be triggered. I find it reprehensible at best.”

  “That is because you’re a being of order and he is not,” the devil replied.

  Okay. If they wanted me to restrain my curiosity, they were not going about it the right way. “Can we discuss these abilities, please?”

  “So polite,” the devil cooed. “I expect you’ll get to see his powers for yourself soon enough. The first time he witnesses someone bring harm to you, he will manifest. That is his nature.”

  “Is he that dedicated already?” Azrael asked. “I try not to think of him in such a fashion.”

  “You need to join a triad and get laid,” the devil complained. “He absolutely hates when she screams above all others.”

  “I will enjoy holding this over your head for the rest of eternity,” Azrael announced.

  Eoghan heaved a sigh. “She deserves respect. She truly does not fear death.”

  “And he finds he does not find this lack of fear to his liking,” the devil added.

  “I wish I could strangle you and plant your seed of life in the heart of the void so it might never bother me again,” Eoghan spat.

  “You’d miss me.”

  With a grunt, Eoghan stormed out of the kitchen.

  “So grouchy,” the devil said when he was gone. “How long do you think it will take for him to figure it out, Azrael?”

  “Without help? An eternity. With help? A lifetime or two. She’s going to need help convincing him to join her in her bed as she wants.”

  That didn’t bode well. “What sort of help?”

  Hmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that with the devil in th
e room.

  “Handcuffs might work,” the devil replied. “You’ll have to give him a demonstration of how they can be used for mutual enjoyment. Alternatively, I can just ask my wife to spread the joy in town one night soon after having one of her friends lure Gordon away. He needs to learn there are better ways for him to feed, and she can partner him with an incubus so they can hunt together. Vampires are typically incapable of relationships and love, although Gordon is exceptional. Azrael?”

  “You want to ask me to do something forbidden.” The archangel clamped his wings. “The universe…”

  “It’s not one of the laws, and we both know it. The eldest have learned.”

  Azrael straightened. “Have they?”

  “Indeed. It would just take a nudge and a release of death’s cold hands to turn them into beings as capable of love as any human. The younger would have much to learn, but they could once again bear complete souls.”

  “You have grown into a disgustingly philanthropic creature since the last time I walked this world.”

  The devil shrugged. “Those who sought to circumvent death made many vampires through forbidden magic, and it would help balance this world a little. The balance is important. A vampire here and there wasn’t an issue, but they’re not just one here and there anymore.”

  Azrael’s form shimmered, and for a moment, I caught the shadowy shape of his fully formed head through the shroud enclosing his head. “She walks through the valley of the shadow of death,” Azrael announced.

  I loved everything about that phrase, especially the weight of truth in the archangel’s voice.

  “One day, she will see through the shroud in its entirety,” the devil agreed. “Anwen, it’s a little early for you to be staring upon archangels with prying eyes. You already figured out the key secret of their visages. You have some left to learn, but you’ll figure it out on your own, I suspect.”