Scorn of Angels (The Descended) (Volume 2) by John Patrick Kennedy
Author: John Patrick Kennedy
Date: 2015-03-10 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Angels; Paranormal; Mythology; Fiction; Adult; Demons
Description: Nyx, Queen of Hell, lies broken and burning in a box at the bottom of the Lake of Fire, put there but her lover Tribunal, who is God’s Son. Nyx’s daughter Epiphenia, has been slaughtered by Tribunal and Lucifer. Her companions, Persephone and Ishtar, were captured and are now suffering unspeakable torture. Lucifer, once Nyx’s second-in-command, has taken over Hell and is ruling with a depraved will and an iron fist. And on Earth, Arcana, Angel of Heaven, has arrived a thousand years too late. And that isn’t even the worst of it. Tribunal is going to destroy the human race, if he can keep God f
Publisher: Scorn of Angels

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.

-William Shakespeare

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Thank you for reading Scorn of Angels!

Prologue

AT THE BOTTOM of the Lake of Fire, Nyx, Queen of Hell, writhed in silent agony. Her mouth was wide open in a scream but no sound came out. There was no air, just the cold fire of the lake filling her broken mouth and lungs, burning away her flesh from both inside and out with a fire as cold as the void. If she had been an ordinary soul, she would have been stripped to nearly nothing and left to float on the surface until she was pulled out of the lake and sent to the Palace of the Queen of Hell for judgment.

But Nyx was not an ordinary soul. She was the Queen of the Descended Angels, the most powerful among them. Her Angelic flesh should have healed, even in the Lake of Fire. She should have been able to pull herself out. And even now, in the tiny corner of her brain that was still sane, she felt her body starting to heal, felt the broken edges of the bones knitting themselves together, the silver ichor that was her blood regenerating and repairing tissue.

Then the new flesh and bone would come up against the jagged edges of Hellstone built into the sides of the box that Lucifer and Tribunal, the Son of God, had put her in. The flesh would tear, bones would strain, then snap; new agony would fill her body.

And that was not the worst of it.

Hellfire did not just destroy flesh and burn away the body. It made whoever was burned by it relive every sin, every cruelty they had ever committed, as if they were all happening at once. And given that Nyx was the Queen of Hell, and that she had rebelled against God and killed a hundred Angels and spent thousands of years torturing the souls of the damned and Descended Angels and demons alike, and given that she had spent a thousand years on Earth trying to destroy Christianity at the request of Tribunal, the level of pain that was visited upon her mind should have been enough to drive her far beyond sanity.

And then there were the other memories.

Of using The Word to create an Angel. Of the agony of the Angel growing to full size within Nyx’s Angelic flesh—flesh never meant to give birth. Of Persephone cutting Nyx’s body open to let Epiphenia spring forth. Of Nyx’s desperate fight against Lucifer to save Epiphenia—Nyx’s own Angel—from being dragged down to Hell and sacrificed.

She lost that battle, and the next one. The miracle that was Epiphenia was sacrificed to the ambitions of Tribunal, God’s own son, whom the world knew as Jesus, who gave his life willingly to redeem the sins of mankind, but whom Nyx knew as an angry immortal who hated all of God’s creations and wanted them destroyed.

Tribunal had become her lover, inspiring a devotion Nyx had never felt before. He’d made her his most trusted ally. He had promised her Paradise at his side and Nyx had worked untiringly for a millennium on his behalf. And at the same time, he had conspired with Lucifer, her ancient enemy. And when Nyx could not fulfill her promise, Tribunal gave her to Lucifer, who left her locked in a box, her body broken, on the bottom of the Lake of Fire. And as her flesh continuously burned and healed, as her mind and spirit were forced to revisit every act of suffering she had ever committed, Nyx, Queen of Hell, managed to maintain her sanity by one word alone:

Vengeance!

Chapter 1

A.D. 1100

ARCANA, ANGEL OF God and a lieutenant in his legions, stood on a small island in the middle of the Mediterranean, on the pile of rubble that had once been a temple, listening to the screams and cries of the Descended Angels trapped underneath it.

What, she wondered, is going on?

Arcana was tall, even for an Angel. Her eyes were blue, and her hair was long and blond, usually worn in a braid that hung halfway down her back. She was powerfully built, with wide shoulders and hips. Her breasts were neither large nor small, but sat firm and high on layers of Angelic muscle. She wore the white armor of God’s army, which protected against all but the most vicious attacks of the mortal world. She was one of three Angels whom God had declared would walk the Earth after the physical death of his son.

Arcana had never understood why God had his son worshipped with a different name, but then, she hadn’t understood the entire process. All she knew was that God manifested himself on earth as Tribunal, who was to judge the human race and determine its fate. Tribunal was both God and not God, God’s Son and God’s Self, separate and yet part of the Divine, never entirely free. And for the length of Tribunal’s life, the only Angel to walk the earth was a Descended Angel—one of the Angels who’d been cast out of Heaven and sent to Hell for their rebellion against God. Worse, it had been Nyx, the vicious and crafty leader of the Descended, who had become Queen of Hell through a bloody and grueling war in that realm.

Nyx and Arcana had once been friends, but that had been long, long before. Arcana would never underestimate the dark Angel, nor forgive her rebellion.

Tribunal had finished his earthly life and judged humankind wanting. He declared them a vile species, cruel, corrupt and greedy, and wanted them wiped from the face of the Earth. God did not. Instead, God had closed the Gates of Heaven and Hell to all Angelic traffic, declaring that humanity would be left alone for 1,000 years and that three Angels would be set to watch, but not to interfere. Those three Angels were to be Caelum, Orion, and Arcana. Caelum and Orion had gone first, to tell the humans that the man they followed as Jesus was the Son of God and that he had risen and was in Heaven with his Father. Arcana had followed a half-day or so later, reckoned by mortal time.

But when she landed, neither Caelum nor Orion was anywhere to be found. The Gates to Heaven and Hell were open, not closed, and on a small island in the middle of the Mediterranean, a half-dozen Descended Angels were in unspeakable agony.

As Arcana had winged across the Mediterranean, a portal to Hell opened. Arcana arrived just in time to see Nyx and Persephone dive into the pit, leaving behind an immense pile of rubble with the injured Descended Angels trapped beneath it.

Arcana turned her thoughts to Heaven, to reach out to the other Angels and to God, but there was only silence. No one was listening.

Or no one could hear her.

I am going to find out what is going on here, thought Arcana. And I know just who to ask.

She transformed her sword into a short, hard shovel and drove it into the rock beneath her. In a half-dozen strikes she had cut her way down to the first of the Descended. The Angel was crushed beneath what was easily twenty tons of rock. Arcana worked carefully, cutting away the rock to reveal the Angel’s face and enough of its torso that it could draw a breath, while leaving most of its body firmly pinned.

At first the Descended was unrecognizable, so badly had it been crushed. Arcana sat on the rock above it and waited while it cried and screamed as its crushed face and body reformed into something recognizable.

“Casale,” said Arcana, when the face had mostly reformed. “How are you?”

The Descended Angel blinked as its eyes, which had exploded from the force of rock on its skull, regrew inside their sockets. When it could see again, its eyes widened in surprise. “Arcana!” Casale tried to breathe deep. The pain stopped his speech. When he could talk again, he spat out, “How do you think I am, bitch?”

“In agony,” said Arcana. “Should I let you stay that way?”

“You’ll set me free, if you know what’s good for you.”

“How very cute,” said Arcana, smiling down at the Angel. “You think you can threaten me.”

“Lucifer will come for me, bitch,” said Casale. “And when he does, he’ll drag you to Hell, gut you and stake you out for the demons to feast on your innards.”

Arcana picked up a hundred-pound rock and dropped it onto Casale’s head. The Descended Angel yelped in surprise. “What the fuck are you doing, bitch?”

“Reburying you,” said Arcana. “Since you don’t want my help, I’ll just put you back.”

She was just lifting the second rock when Casale screamed, “Enough! What do you want?”

“Where are Caelum and Orion?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

Arcana picked up the rock again.

“I don’t know! I don’t!” Casale screamed. “I didn’t see them! Lucifer made us come to Earth to attack Nyx and her bitch friends. I didn’t see Caelum, and I didn’t see Orion!”

“How can you have attacked them?” demanded Arcana. “You’re not even supposed to be here. No one is supposed to be here.”

“Well, we are,” grunted Casale. “Can you get some of these rocks off me, bitch?”

“The Gates of Hell were closed when God’s Son died,” said Arcana. “Only three Angels were to be allowed through.”

“God’s Son?” Casale laughed, bringing up silver Descended Angel blood, which he spat to the side. It shimmered and congealed. “God’s Son has been dead for a thousand years. Where have you been?”

“What?” Arcana nearly fell over backward in surprise and had to spread her wings wide to catch herself. “No. What?” She ran through her memory. “No. God closed the Gate. He opened it for three to go through. Caelum and Orion went first. They announced God’s Son. I followed. We were going to watch mankind for a thousand years. And only us three were to be allowed on the Earth.”

“Looks like that didn’t work out.” Casale laughed again, then moaned at the pain of it. “Nyx has been on earth for a thousand years. With Persephone and Ishtar.”

“It can’t…” Arcana had stepped out of Heaven and flown down to the Gate that led to Earth. She had received the blessing of God, and of Tribunal, said good-bye to her friends, and stepped off, beginning the long descent. She remembered entering the Gate, and in a blink of an eye…

Arcana shifted back through her memories. An Angel could remember every moment down to the smallest, most insignificant-seeming detail, if he or she needed to. Arcana broke the time down smaller and smaller and smaller.

She had not blinked her eyes.

The world had gone black, and when it was light again, she was where she had been.

But surely it had only been a moment, thought Arcana. It could not have been…

“Hey!” shouted Casale. “What about me? You said you’d free me!”

Only God has the power to do something like that. And God wouldn’t do that. Not without telling me why.

“Hey! Bitch! Let me out!”

Arcana looked down at Casale. “I think you’re lying to me.”

“Why would I lie about that?” demanded Casale. “If I wanted to lie to you, I’d have said Caelum and Orion were just here.”

“If it’s been a thousand years, what has happened?”

“I don’t know!” screamed Casale. “I was in Hell! Ask Nyx!”

“Nyx has gone to Hell,” said Arcana. “And Persephone. Why?”

“I don’t fucking know! I just got told to bring her, so I tried! And now I’m stuck under these fucking rocks!”

Arcana stood up and the shovel became a sword once more. “I need to see what has happened to God’s world.”

“You need to let me out.”

“I never said I’d do that,” said Arcana rising and taking a firm grip on her blade. “But I will end your pain.”

“What? No. No, no, no, don’t. NO!”

Arcana drove the sword down, piercing Casale’s heart. Casale exploded into a fine spray of silver dust that floated down, threatening to make Arcana’s eyes water. She stepped back so as not to inhale any of it.

Four hours later, Arcana sat at the edge of a cliff, looking over the calm blue expanse of the Mediterranean. The air was sweet with wild thyme and the blood of Angels. She had worked her way through all the Descended left under the rock, questioning each one before dispatching him. Not a single one knew what had happened to Caelum and Orion. All of them claimed that a thousand years had passed, and all of them said that Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar had been walking the Earth for all that time.

Arcana closed her eyes and guided her thoughts to Heaven. This was more than just prayer. This was a direct call to God, to ask His will, and to get instruction. With the Gates of Heaven and Hell both open, her thoughts would quickly reach God.

Hear me, o My Lord. Tell me what has happened. Tell me what I should do.

The only answer was silence.

Arcana tried again, and again, and again for another hour, praying and calling to Heaven. In desperation she rose from the cliff and hurled herself upward to the sky, bending every thought, every fiber of her being toward Heaven. Up, up she flew, past the clouds, past the edge of the sky, to the Gates between the worlds.

Only they weren’t there.

She closed her eyes and opened her mind. She could feel the open Gate between Earth and Heaven, could sense the Angels on the other side of it, but she could not find it.

Eyes closed, she let herself wing toward the place where the Gate should be, relying on her connection to God instead of her senses. She could feel the presence of the divine, could feel herself growing closer to Him, but could not find the Gate to enter. It was as if all connection between Heaven and Earth had been deliberately severed.

What is going on? What does this have to do with me—and with the time that passed between one blink and the next? She had no answers, nor would she soon, she suspected.

Arcana folded her wings and fell, alone as she had never been before. The only Angel left on Earth, as far as she knew, the only guardian and messenger of God.

She spread her wings wide while she was still high over the Mediterranean. Night had fallen as she had searched for the Gate to Heaven. The sky above spread out like a deep blue blanket of dappled magnificence, with the lights of stars, and planets, and galaxies. She could practically hear them singing as she turned her fall into a slow, easy spiral.

All right, then. Let’s suppose that a thousand years have passed. A thousand years during which mankind was supposed to be free of the influence of Angels, able to make their own choices about whether to worship Jesus, free to make their own decisions.

So what was Nyx doing all this time? And Persephone and Ishtar? The more Arcana thought about it, the less she liked the possibilities. The idea of those three able to run free on Earth for a thousand years with no divine hand to stay their actions made Arcana shudder.

I’ll start in God’s city, Arcana decided, and see what has happened there. Then I’ll decide what to do.

Arcana turned south and winged toward Jerusalem. It took a pair of hours, unlike her desperate race to the island the day before. She needed to think on what to do, if she was truly out of contact with God.

BE MY GUARDIAN, God had told her. STAND WATCH OVER THE HUMAN RACE. DO NOT SPEAK TO THEM. DO NOT VISIT THEM. KEEP WATCH OVER THEIR DEVELOPMENT, AND LET NONE INTERFERE WITH THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIANITY, SAVE THE HUMANS THEMSELVES, UNTIL A THOUSAND YEARS HAVE PASSED.

Arcana wondered what that meant now, if Nyx had been given free rein to terrorize the citizens for a thousand years. For all she knew, there weren’t any humans left.

She looked far out into the night, her Angel’s eyes seeing details that even the best owl would miss. Jerusalem was still there. There were still people in it. But that was all that was good about it.

Half the city was ruins, the smoldering remains of torched buildings sending smoke up into the air and leaving a choking cloud that made the people still in the city cough and gasp. And as for the people in the city…

What happened here?

War had happened, Arcana realized as she flew closer, and it had taken a large, bloody toll on the inhabitants. Everywhere Arcana looked she could see swaggering soldiers and cowering civilians—all of them women or children. There looked to be no men left in the city. Here and there one of the soldiers was taking his pleasure on one of civilians, usually in the street, whether anyone was watching or not. Arcana didn’t have to ask if the women were willing. They were subjugated, their will broken, their eyes dead. They accepted blows or rape as the price they paid for surviving or keeping their children alive. She could see no hope in them.

The soldiers wore white tabards, most stained with blood, with black crosses, upside-down on the fronts. Arcana frowned. She had no idea what those crosses meant. She circled the city twice more, landed, and shifted her shape to that of one of the soldiers. The moment her clothes converted to the uniform she felt as if something dirty had crawled across her skin. Something is very, very wrong here.

DO NOT SPEAK TO THEM. DO NOT VISIT THEM. That was what God had said.

Arcana wasn’t certain she was doing what she was meant to, but she knew she was doing what she must.

She walked through the streets, watching bored men play coarse games, from pissing contests to making a girl crawl after food while they kicked her and tore away her clothes, piece by piece. Arcana had no doubt what would happen to her once the clothes were gone.

She stopped in a tavern, where an exhausted-looking woman with a bruise on her face was serving wine to the soldiers. She was topless. Her breasts were bruised and scratched where men had dug in their fingernails. Her skirt had been cut open up the back, and every so often as she poured a drink, a man would reach in and rub his hands over her. She stiffened but didn’t protest.

“Hey,” said one of the men sitting at the table next to Arcana. “I don’t know you.”

“True,” said Arcana.

The man stood up, his hand on his dagger. His tabard was stained with blood and food and the mud of battle. From the looks of him, he had not groomed himself since. From the smell, he had not bathed either. “Who do you serve?”

“God,” said Arcana, loud enough to be heard through the room. She was surprised at how many of the men jumped and started at the words.

The man laughed. “God, he says! Did you hear that?” He swung his arms wide. “Everyone! This one serves God!”

The room broke out in harsh, angry laughter, as if the men were both ridiculing her and hating themselves.

The man’s hands came down hard on the table in front of Arcana. “None of us serve God anymore!” he yelled in her face. “God left us to die in the desert! God let us sit outside Jerusalem for weeks! God doesn’t give a fuck about us! And God sure as fuck didn’t break down the Gates, did he?”

“Then who did?” asked Arcana.

“Who did?” The man’s voice was disbelieving. Once more he looked to the crowd. “‘Who did?’ he wants to know. Well, what I want to know is who you serve!”

Arcana caught his hand, and the dagger in it, as it raced toward her face. The man growled and tried to hit her with his other hand, but Arcana caught that one, too. Very gently, her voice so quiet it only reached the one man’s ears, she said, “I serve God. And you are going to tell me, in great detail, what happened here.”

“Fuck you!”

Arcana slowly tightened the grip on his hands. He winced at first, then moaned. “Let me go!”

“Tell me all that happened here,” repeated Arcana.

“He’s a spy!” the man shouted. “Kill him!”

The other knights roared and grabbed swords and axes. There were twenty of them, and they howled like beasts as they charged at Arcana.

“We will continue this,” said Arcana. She released both his hands and pushed him back with enough force that he flew through the air and cracked the mud-brick wall when he hit it. Arcana drew her sword and turned it from a blade into a club before gliding into battle with the crowd of men.

It wasn’t a fair fight, but then it never was with mortals. Unnecessary death was frowned on in the Army of God, whether human or otherwise. Rather than weakening them, it made the Angels of God more inventive fighters, capable of doing much damage without resorting to killing.

Six of her opponents went down in the first second, skulls and arms and legs broken. In the next second, three men were thrown against walls, and two others smashed against the ground so hard their pelvises cracked. In the second after that, three men had stabbed each other while attempting to stab Arcana, two more had broken heads from being smashed against tables, and three others had been thrown bodily out the small shop window.

The last man standing tried to run away. Arcana clipped him on the back of the head with her club and watched him go sprawling.

She turned back to the man she’d been questioning and once more took his hands in hers, ignoring the wails of pain and the spattered blood on the walls and floor around them. “Now,” she said, “tell me everything. From the beginning of your life to the present moment. But first,” she squeezed his hands hard enough to make him scream, “who do you serve, mortal? And I don’t mean your commander. What God do you serve?”

The man screamed wordlessly at first, and Arcana tightened her grip. At last he managed to gasp out, “Nyx! We serve Nyx!!!”

Arcana let the man’s hands go and sat back in surprise. That arrogant little…

There were many words Arcana could think of off the top of her head, but none seemed suitable. Arcana settled for growling deep in her throat and letting her body assume its rightful shape, the hateful garments fading away. She let her inner light glow and her wings spread. Instead of her robes, she wore her armor. Her club became a sword, glowing with the light and purity of Heaven. Around her she heard the men who were conscious gasp and swear. She let them feel the full force of her presence; she heard several of them weeping.

“Tell me everything,” Arcana said again, and this time the man in front of her quailed and hid his eyes from her glow.

“Please…” the man begged. “Spare me.”

“I do not promise that,” said Arcana. “Your actions are grievously offensive to God.”

“But…”

Arcana leaned over him, letting the full force of her presence inhabit her next words. “You will tell me everything. NOW!”

The others on the tavern floor did not move—did not dare move—while she listened to the man tell how the crusades had started. She listened to the misery of their trip and the many battles they’d lost on the way. She heard of their six weeks before the walls of Jerusalem and the destruction of their siege towers. He told her how three goddesses with black wings and snake eyes came down to them before the battle, how they had converted the army to the worship of Nyx and given them victory over Jerusalem. He told everything of the bloody, one-sided battle that had destroyed the Muslim army and the great pillage that followed. As near as Arcana could tell, no boy over thirteen survived the slaughter; and all of the women—and most of the surviving boys—had been raped in the seven days since.

When the man finished talking, Arcana straightened up and looked around the room with disgust. In a move faster than any mortal could see, she punched the man’s head. His skull bounced against the wall, leaving a bloody smear, and he slid to the floor. Arcana closed her wings and hid them as she turned away.

The woman in the tavern ran to her, trying to cover her body as she knelt before Arcana. “Forgive me, O Holy One. Forgive me for my sins. I have done… I have…”

“Anything these men did to you,” said Arcana, her tone as gentle as she could make it, “anything that you did to survive, was not a sin of yours. Do not fear for God’s wrath.”

“Please,” the woman begged. “Please help me. Help us all.”

Yes, thought Arcana. I think I will do just that.

Arcana laid her hand on the woman’s head and let her power heal the woman’s body and her spirit. “Find clothes,” said Arcana. “Dress yourself as best you can, and when the others come to inquire after their fellows, tell them that the one who did this said she would be at the Temple Mount in the morning. Can you do that?”

The woman rose and stood tall despite her half-dressed, despoiled state. “I can, O Holy One.”

“Good,” said Arcana. She strode out of the tavern, taking human guise as she did. She did not take on the shape or clothes of one of the fallen warriors. Rather, she stayed female, but tall and strong, dressed in the chain armor they wore, with a plain grey surcoat over it and her sword at her hip.

I think I will visit some more of these taverns, Arcana decided, and see what is happening in them.

It was near dawn when Arcana walked to the Dome of the Rock. In the course of the night she’d been in six tavern brawls and one street battle and had summarily executed five men she’d found engaged in rape in the middle of the streets. And everywhere she went, Arcana spread the word—she would be at the Temple Mount in the morning.

The Temple Mount had changed greatly since the last time she had visited it. Gone was the Jewish temple. Nothing was left but a single wall. Dominating it was a great temple, now defaced and pillaged. Arcana walked into it and found a dozen of the prettiest women and boys left in the town chained together against one wall, while another half-dozen were busy servicing men of rank around the room. Arcana killed the men and struck free the chains of the prisoners. She threw the bodies out of the temple and then surveyed the space. “Whose temple is this?”

The women and children looked guardedly at one another but said nothing.

“I am a stranger in your Jerusalem,” said Arcana, letting comfort, safety, and strength flow with her words. “I have not been here for a very long time, and I do not recognize it. Can you tell me who they worship here?”

As she spoke she saw them stand straighter and regain some shreds of their self-respect. When she was done, one of the woman, black-haired and chocolate-skinned, stepped forward. “This is a mosque dedicated to the worship of Allah, in memory of his prophet Mohammed.”

It was no one Arcana had heard of, but then, she had been trapped for a thousand years. But when the woman spoke of Allah, it was God she meant, and that was good enough. “Then it shall be cleansed.”

Arcana raised her arms and called on God’s creations, on the winds and the rain, and the water buried beneath the earth. All of it came at her bidding, flowing up and down and from across great distances, pushing aside whatever lay in its path to reach her. The women and children in the temple cowered together, clinging to one another as the wind swirled sand around them, scouring the obscenities and the dried blood from the walls. Rain poured in through the broken windows and joined the wind in cleansing the walls. From far, far beneath the ground, water seeped up the cracks in the floor and spread wide. The wind stirred it, too, and the dirt and blood and filth loosened and flowed away, out the door.

It took an hour. The women and children huddled, watching in awe and disbelief. In the end, the walls and floor were, if roughly blasted from the force of sand and water and wind, clean and free from filth. Arcana surveyed the room and nodded. “It is good.”

“You… you are…?”

Arcana realized she was still in human form. She smiled at the women and children. “I am a servant of God. And I suggest that you be gone from this place before the sun rises.”

The women nodded and led the children from the building. Arcana followed them out into the now-crisp air around the dome. Jerusalem was still a sacked city, and there were still evil deeds being done in Nyx’s name throughout. But morning was coming soon and she was going to put a stop to it. Of course, just because she had spread the word, there was no guarantee that the might of Jerusalem would come to the Temple Mount when the sun rose.

Arcana drew her sword and let her body assume its true shape. With ease she flew up to the top of the Dome of the Rock, only then noticing the remains of a man, his skull and ribs and pelvis impaled on the spike that topped the dome.

That has to be Nyx’s work, Arcana thought. No mortal could have put him there.

Scavengers birds had picked the remains clean, even though they were only days old. Now nothing remained but the bones. With the soul gone, the body was only dead weight, with no special purpose. Arcana laid her hands on the bones, whispering a prayer. This may have been a good man or an evil man; she didn’t know. But he had been Nyx’s enemy and for that, she acknowledged him. The bones dissolved, along with the stains the man’s fluids had left on the spike, and it all blew away into the wind.

Arcana drew her sword. I may not be Gabriel, but he’s not the only horn player in Heaven.

With a thought, her sword took the shape of a shofar—though it stayed as divine metal, rather than ram’s horn. Arcana took a deep breath, pursed her lips, and blew long and hard on the instrument. The sound echoed over the city, a clarion call that no man could ignore. Every able-bodied man grabbed his weapons and his armor and struggled into them. Every injured man tried to rise from his bed. All of them were filled with a nameless dread and a desperate, unstoppable compunction to be at the Temple Mount in time for the sunrise.

The women and children of Jerusalem, abused, beaten, and hopeless, felt new strength arise in their hearts at the sound of Arcana’s shofar, and a new hope imbue their souls.

The trumpet became a sword again and Arcana sheathed it. She smiled to herself. Not bad for an amateur.

She let her body change, matching the color and shades of the dome behind her so exactly that only one standing beside her would see her. Then she waited.

The sun rose and the men came to the west side of the Temple Mount in the thousands. They came with weapons in hand and hastily donned armor on their backs. They came in their bloody, dirty tabards, some with blood still on their weapons, others with flesh still wet from their assaults on the helpless of Jerusalem. Others came clutching bags of gold or jewels that they had looted, so that it would not be stolen from them as they had stolen it from its murdered owners. Knights rode up on horseback, and men-at-arms marched in groups to stand at the base of the Temple Mount and stare. All knew, beyond any uncertainty or doubt, that they needed to be there, that they were waiting for something.

They stayed there as the sun rose higher. They talked uncertainly to one another, none understanding what had happened. Some whispered that it was Nyx who called them all again. Others declared it was a call to battle, that Egypt must be coming, and they must prepare. The Knight Commanders kept their mouths shut and waited, knowing it was not they who had called the entirety of the army—even those on duty—to come to the mountain.

The sun rose above the Dome on the Rock, and Arcana rose with it, letting her camouflage fade and her wings spread wide. The sun hit her wings from behind, splitting into a thousand rainbows that blinded the men below in a dazzling wash of color. Her armor absorbed the light of the sun behind her, and channeled it out her front, so that she gleamed with a pure, white, blinding light. She had considered letting her hair loose as well but decided instead to wear it back in its ponytail, making her look as severe as she was feeling. Her magnificence was such that no man could look directly at her, yet none could look fully away.

“Men!” Her voice echoed over the entire army, and the contempt and anger in it made every man’s heart quail. “You have disgraced yourselves before GOD!”

The word she used was not “God” or “Yahweh” or “Allah” or “Jehovah” as mortals would call him, but God’s true name, in the tongue of the Angels, and the power of it swept through the men of the armies, sending many to their knees.

“You were sent to take GOD’S city! To hold it as a place of holiness for all who worship him. And instead, when victory was in your grasp, when you stood before the Gates, YOU GAVE UP!” Arcana drew her sword and light streamed from the blade. She pointed it down and let it sweep over the army as she spoke, making every man feel as if she was pointing it at him. “You gave up on your church! You gave up on GOD! You tasted defeat, and instead of gaining humility and rising up stronger, you turned away from all that was holy and gave your strength and your service to the Queen of Hell!”

The words rang true and the men below began quaking. Some voided themselves in the realization of what they had done. It had not been a goddess of battle that had led them to victory. It had not been a miracle.

It had been the Queen of Hell. And they had given themselves to her, body and soul.

“You have damned yourselves to Hell for all eternity!” shouted Arcana. “You have condemned yourselves to suffering without respite! To anguish far beyond that which mere mortal flesh can withstand! You have doomed yourself to eternal, unending pain and misery!”

Most of the men collapsed; many began weeping. Some stood where they had been, anchored to the spot in horror. Arcana waited. She read the expression on every man’s face, and knew each was convinced beyond a doubt. She waited a bit longer, until it happened.

“Please!” begged one of the soldiers. “Please, we did not know! Please, redeem us!”

Arcana smiled—though it wasn’t seen as a smile—and shouted, “REDEEM YOU?”

The man bowed his head, and thirty thousand others did as well.

“I cannot redeem you!” Arcana said, and the force of the words brought shame to them all. She waited to make sure they sunk in and then said, “You must redeem yourselves!”

Hope dawned in thirty thousand faces. She let them wait, let them pray that she would give them an answer.

I probably shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, Arcana thought. “You will cleanse this city! You will clean every drop of filth and blood from its streets! You will cleanse every drop of filth and sin from your bodies and your clothes, and you will burn the emblems of the Queen of Hell! You will repair the damage you have done to all the holy places. And you will do this with your own hands!” She saw and enjoyed the horror in their faces as they realized the enormity of their task. “And when that is done, each of you will follow the path that Jesus walked, from the palace where he was condemned to the hill upon which he died!” She pointed the sword to the place where the Sanhedrin had once had their court and a blaze of bright flame shot from it, arching over the buildings and scorching the route into the ground. “You will follow that path upon your knees! You will pray to God to have mercy on your souls and forgive you your weakness, your sinfulness, and the vileness of your actions! KNEEL!”

Every man who was not already on his knees fell to them. Knights dismounted and knelt beside their horses.

“You have disgraced yourselves in the eyes of the LORD who is your GOD! You have brought shame upon yourselves, your families, and your nations, and you will not redeem it until you have done all as I have said!

“NOW GO, AND SIN NO MORE!”

And with those words, Arcana flew straight up into the clouds, disappearing from the men’s sight, even as her last words burned into their brains. As one, the crusader army rose to their feet and began dispersing through the city to carry out her instructions.

That will show Nyx, thought Arcana as she rose high above the city. She closed her eyes, trying to sense if there were any other Angels on the planet. There were none.

Heaven is blocked to me, Arcana thought. Earth is empty of Angels save for me. I alone must carry out the will of God until I can speak to him again.

She turned a wide circle and began winging her way forward until she was moving at nearly the speed of sound. I will find a way back to Heaven, and then I will ask God what is to be done to Nyx. And then, if it is his will, I will put an end to her once and for all.

Chapter 2

SANITY CAME TO Nyx in flashes, like glimpses of treasure on the edge of the sea, one moment there, the next buried under waves of pain and horrific memory.

The Hellfire had long since stripped Nyx’s bones of flesh. It had burned away nearly everything of her mind. But her Angelic body, meant to heal no matter what, and trapped in Hell, where nothing could die, kept trying to rally, kept pulling her out of the madness and into sanity.

When those moments of sanity came, Nyx fought to keep them longer, to grasp every moment of clarity before the Hellfire once more drowned her mind in pain and remembered cruelty. I must get out! was always Nyx’s first thought when sanity returned.

Nyx tried. She willed her body to heal in those rare, lucid moments. She willed a hand or foot or part of an arm to heal enough for her to push against the sides of the too-small, jagged-edge-filled box that Lucifer had locked her in. She even tried healing her face enough to bite at the Hellstone of her too-small prison. And each time the box proved too strong, and her hand or foot or arm or jaw would break again. The pain would flash through her, tearing away her will. Then the Hellfire would once more gain the upper hand, eating her flesh and burning into her mind. And Nyx would slip into madness.

The Hellfire was cruel. It burned away flesh and muscle and organs with a cold flame that chilled rather than warmed. And as it burned, it made its victims experience every vile deed they had ever performed. Every pain or cruelty they had inflicted upon another, they would feel as if that pain or cruelty was being inflicted on them.

Nyx, Queen of Hell, had inflicted untold suffering upon millions, and the agony of reliving it was far greater than the continuously breaking bones of her battered, abused body.

The last thought Nyx had every time the sanity faded, and the Hellfire took control once more, was, There is no way out.

When the Hellfire took her mind, Nyx murdered herself, gutted herself, ripped her own throat out, tortured herself for information, buried herself under a hundred tons of rubble just to hear herself scream. She killed or maimed herself in a hundred different ways, and every act she had to live through magnified her madness. She cowered in terror from herself. She pleaded with herself. She laughed at herself, and then it all happened again. And again. She had a thousand names, a million names; she was everyone and no one.

And that was only the violence she had inflicted on the living. To the dead she had done far, far worse, for she was the Queen of Hell, and she had punished the sinners with relish. And the Hellfire made her experience those punishments as well.

Her skin was flayed away again and again.

Her throat was torn out with her own teeth.

She was cut slowly to ribbons with her own talons.

She fed herself to demons.

She gave herself a thousand, thousand other tortures, without end.

And those were still not the worst.

The worst memories were the memories of Heaven and the rebellion she had led there.

Nyx had led an army of Angels against God. They had marched to the base of his mountain to demand free will for all of their kind. And at the base of God’s mountain they had met God’s host and engaged in a battle that lasted eons.

And so, as the Hellfire burned her, Nyx became all the Angels she had destroyed under her blade in Heaven. Nyx felt the pain of her sword ripping into flesh and screamed the screams of those she’d killed. She felt the pain of the rebels in Hell as she and hers fought for dominance. Worse, she felt the limitless, unending disappointment and sorrow of God as he watched his creations destroy each other. But that pain was a kind of blank. No soul, not even hers, could bear the pain of God. She did bear it, but she didn’t know she was bearing it, and she did not remember it. It marked her in ways that were hidden forever.

Some of the agonies she suffered were not gigantic, but still were beyond her understanding. Not being human, she hadn’t known what it would be like to see her family die, to lose belief that God existed, to know that cherished dreams could no longer be fulfilled in the short time left to her. And even now, she lived through that psychological torture without knowing exactly what it was. She knew it was human, that was all. That she, the Queen of Hell, was suffering as countless humans had done, but without end.

And then sanity would come again, and once more Nyx would struggle to break free. Because she was Queen of Hell, and she would be revenged against Lucifer, who had been her lieutenant, and Tribunal, who was the Son of God. The two of them together had done this to her.

Again and again and again she came to herself and struggled and fought and screamed silent screams through burned-away vocal cords and lungs. And again and again she fell back into the madness until her body could, again, rally enough to heal itself.

And because this was Hell, where nothing could die, Nyx knew that the torture could last longer than time itself. It could, and would, go on for eternity if Lucifer wanted it to. And so she struggled and fought, trying to find a way to escape.

Until one time, sanity came, and Nyx no longer had the will to struggle.

She could not heal her body. She could not break the box that held her. She could not escape the Hellfire. No matter how hard she tried, she would only break again and sink into insanity. So this time, instead of fighting it, she was utterly still until the Hellfire once more took control of her body and mind, and her sanity disappeared under the weight of all the violence she had done to others.

A hundred times she lay quiescent through the cycle of pain and madness and sanity before a new idea came to her.

It did not come fully formed. It came as a tenuous thread of thought, which she clung to in the maelstrom of pain and anguish that the Hellfire inflicted on her mind.

Another hundred cycles of pain came and went.

And when Nyx once more rose to sanity, instead of struggling, she poured all her power into the Hellstone box that was crushing her body.

Hellstone was not a natural substance, carved from the rocks of Hell. Rather, it was made by torturing fallen souls until all their humanity, all sense of self and physicality, vanished, until they were reduced to a hard, black stone that could be molded and shaped as the Descended wished. Inside the stone, the soul suffered unending torments, and this unimaginable suffering increased further when it was reshaped to suit the Descended’s needs.

From these broken and battered souls, Nyx had decorated her castle. She had made devices and weapons and instruments of torture. So had every other Angel. And when an Angel got bored, he or she would heal the damaged souls within the Hellstone, restoring the flesh that clothed their souls in Hell and returning them to a physical form—sometimes perfect in its parts, completely healed—that could be tormented down to Hellstone again.

And so, when sanity came again, Nyx poured her power into the Hellstone box, directing it into the stone beside one of the many slits that let the Hellfire seep inside. She channeled all of it into a single soul that had been tortured down to stone, then twisted and bent to the shape Lucifer had wanted. Every bit of strength she had went into that soul, and just before the Hellfire overwhelmed her, she saw him changing from Hellstone back to flesh.

The soul had been a man. He had killed for money and raped for pleasure. He had murdered his own children for food. And though, as Queen of Hell, she was sure his punishment was just, Nyx poured her energy into him so that his physical form could break free from the Hellstone.

He split away, eyes wide and mouth screaming with the agony of the Hellfire. He kept his form only a moment before the flames took him. The Hellfire lake, so merciless on Angelic flesh, was catastrophic to the physical forms the souls took when they came to Hell. The lake of Hellfire consumed his flesh almost at once, leaving only a skeleton, its mouth wide with agony, to float up to the surface. The currents of the lake, slow-moving and twisting, would eventually carry him to shore, to be picked up and tortured by the other Descended Angels.

And just before the madness took Nyx once more, she managed to put one broken finger against the slit in the side of the box, and felt that it was wider than it had been before.

It’s a start, Nyx thought as the madness came again.

When sanity returned, Nyx once more poured her power into one of the souls trapped in the Hellstone. This one was a woman who had cheated on her husband with all manner of men and had poisoned him when he found out about it.

The next one was another woman. She had kidnapped babies from their mothers and used them in a hideous ritual meant to bring her own stillborn child back to life.

The next was a man. A professional mercenary who’d killed two hundred in his time: soldiers, old men, women, and even children.

Two dozen more times Nyx came back to sanity, and two dozen more souls she released from the sides of the Hellstone box to be consumed in the Lake of Fire. And when the twenty-fourth soul had been freed, the hole in the side of the box was big enough for her to squeeze her head through.

She was still broken from head to foot. Every bit of her had been smashed. To heal it all would take more power than Nyx had. Once more, she let herself go still.

Five cycles of madness later, Nyx knew how she was going to get out.

Now, each time the madness receded, Nyx focused on her body, forcing her bones, held together solely by Angelic will, to move themselves inch by inch out of the box.

She straightened her spine first, which forced her crushed skull out of the hole. Then she let her skull heal back to its proper shape. She kept working on her spine until the shards of her collarbones were free of the box. Then she healed those. Her arms were next, and those took a very long time, for she had to break and bend and twist the bones again and again until they pulled free from the box. Then she focused on healing her hands until they became claws that sank into the bed of the Lake of Fire. And every time sanity returned after that, she pulled with those hands, drawing her body inch by inch out of the box.

And because Nyx was the Queen of the Descended Angels and Queen of Hell, and because her body was Angelic flesh, when it was no longer trapped under the jagged, bone-breaking edges of the Hellstone box, it began to truly heal itself.

Ribs, pelvis, legs, feet: all came together and healed. Muscles began to regrow over bone, and skin over muscle. And as each part of her healed, Nyx gained a little more strength to maintain her mind against the Hellfire. The anguish was still there, the reliving of the pain and suffering she had inflicted no less agonizing than it had been before. Only now she could create a space in her mind where she could keep part of herself separate and sane while she suffered.

My time in this lake is nearly over. Then I will be revenged.

She let the currents carry her healing body where they would, using only as much energy as was necessary to keep her deep in the lake, well below the sight of the Angels and demons who prowled the edges. Nyx had no intention of being spotted because if Lucifer found her, it would not only be he she would have to contend with, but with the entire might of the Legions of Hell. Lucifer was now the unchallenged master of this realm, and Nyx would not take him on head-to-head. Not until she was certain she stood a fighting chance.

Then there’s the Son of God to deal with.

Tribunal was going to destroy the human race. He had said he was going to wipe the humans from the earth and make it a playground for the Descended. Then he was going to create for the Descended and himself a Paradise in place of the Heaven they had lost.

That had been his promise to Nyx. And he had broken it.

He had asked her to create a faith to rival and defeat Christianity, and she had. He had asked her to kill all the Christians in Jerusalem, and she had. He had asked her to bring into being an Angel, and he had given her the WORD of Creation so she would have the power to do it. And she had done that, too.

He had also asked her to kill that Angel, and she could not.

And that bastard knew I wouldn’t be able to kill her. He had to have known. Why else would he have had Lucifer’s legions standing by to destroy me?

Sorrow, having nothing to do with the tortures of the Lake of Fire, filled her mind. He killed my Angel. He killed Epiphenia. The image of that fresh-faced and ravishing creature filled her mind.

Angels could not die in Hell, neither Ascended nor Descended. But Epiphenia was an Angel born on Earth, of the Earth. Lucifer had kidnapped her and brought her to Hell, and Tribunal had killed her in a place where nothing was able to die.

Nyx, imbued with all the power Tribunal had given her, and with her favorite Descended Angels, Persephone and Ishtar, at her side, had fought against Lucifer’s 666th Legion on Earth when they tried to take her. And when Nyx had failed there, and Ishtar had been captured, Nyx and Persephone together made the journey to Hell to raise an army and fight for Epiphenia there.

They had lost. Persephone had been cut down and Nyx, though she had made it to Lucifer’s palace, had been crushed by Tribunal, the Son of God, whose power outweighed hers as Nyx’s power outweighed any human warrior’s.

After having suffered what she’d put humans through for a thousand years, Nyx understood her grief over Epiphenia differently now. It was the same pain, but it had more depth and resonance as she experienced a sort of empathy with human mothers. The Angel had been her daughter—the only daughter ever born to Angelic kind. She belonged to Nyx, and Tribunal had taken her, had killed her. The agony of that was something new to Nyx. It was worse than anything Hellstone could do to her.

I will not let them win. I will find a way to destroy them. I swear it. Nyx drifted along the bottom of the Lake of Hell, her body writhing in agony, her mind filled with the pain and suffering she had caused others to feel. The only question is, how?

She was not in a position of strength. She was alone in Hell, and Lucifer had an army of Descended Angels to fight against her.

While she had been Tribunal’s lover, he had poured power into her body, giving her strength beyond imagining so that she could survive using the WORD to create Epiphenia. She had used all that strength in her battle through Hell to rescue her Angel. When her small force had been destroyed and she was all that was left, Nyx had used the WORD once more to clear a path. All the power that she had been given was ripped away then, when she’d used the WORD in battle, and afterward she was no more than herself. When she had finally faced Lucifer she was only Nyx.

Against Lucifer, that should have been enough. She had fought him before and she had broken him. Nyx would have done the same again had not Tribunal, Son of God, part of God, and an embodiment of God, used his power to crush her.

The bastard. The betraying, monstrous son-of-a-bastard. How the fuck am I going to fight Tribunal?

Wrong question, Nyx decided. Too soon. First, I have to get out of here. I need to escape Hell. Then I can take on Tribunal.

So how do I escape Hell?

Angels could sense each other’s presence, whether in Heaven, Earth, or Hell. If Lucifer decided to search for her, he would be able to track her down easily enough. The thing was, if he wasn’t looking for her, Lucifer would know she was in Hell, but not where, no matter how close she stood to him.

As long as he didn’t recognize whoever stood beside him as Nyx.

It would not be enough to take another form. She would need to build an entire life inside herself, for when Lucifer looked at her, he would look beyond her physical self and into her soul. He would see the true form of her being long before she came close enough to drive her sword into him.

Unless it isn’t my soul he’s seeing.

Nyx stopped letting the currents drag her and crawled along the bottom until she fetched up against one of the walls of the Lake of Fire. From there she began crisscrossing the lake, moving as fast as she could, and hoping no one would notice her movement reflected in ripples of Hellfire above.

She ran into, grabbed, examined, and discarded a hundred souls as she crossed back and forth across the lake. None of them would do. She also ran into a hundred Angels, chained to the bottom of the Lake of Fire and driven mad by it. As soon as she touched these, she shied away. None reached for her or seemed to recognize her. All were too wrapped in their own torment.

Lucifer’s doing. Probably they were loyal to me despite him.

She considered helping them break free but knew that it would do no good. If she released them, they would be caught and tortured until they told Lucifer how they escaped—which would fuck up her plans—and then they would be chained again. So she left them in their agony. When she had Lucifer’s still-screaming head dangling from her fist, she would have time to bring them out of the lake and let them regain their senses.

Finally, on the bottom of the deepest part of the lake, she found the Hellstone box in which she had been imprisoned.

It was more than just a box. It had been chained shut with great Hellstone chains, made of links as thick as her arm. Each chain ended in an enormous Hellstone boulder, large enough that it had sunk into the bottom of the Lake of Fire.

Each link, every stone, and the box itself were made from the remains of tortured human souls. All Nyx needed to do was find the right one.

More hours passed. Nyx poured what power she could into the box without risking succumbing to the Hellfire again. Not healing, this time, but seeking.

Every one of the souls was vile. There were rapists and murderers, pedophiles and poisoners, wicked men who cheated others out of their livelihood, and evil women who used their wiles to destroy others’ lives. Nyx looked into each soul and left it where it was. None of them would suit her needs. Then she found it, the right one.

It was a woman, a mother driven to desperation by cold and by hunger, living in a brutal community that would give her neither help nor support. She had watched her youngest child die first, starving and freezing, and watched as rats swarmed over a body that no one would bury. Her other children were on the brink of death when she decided she would give them all a last bit of warmth before they died. Gathering the mauled body of her dead child and dragging her two cold, starving children with her, she had snuck into the community hay barn. There, shivering with the frigid cold and watching her desperate children trying to eat hay to fill their swollen, starving bellies, she had taken up her only possessions—a flint and a striking iron—and applied them to the hay piled around her pitiful family. Then she pulled her children, living and dead, close to her and felt warm for the first time in years before the smoke and fire overcame them all.

Her children were in Heaven, Nyx was sure. The woman was a cursed murderer, and Lucifer had placed within her a driving compulsion to be forever hungry, forever cold, and forever searching for the children she had killed. She had wandered Hell for a hundred years already, searching.

She would do nicely.

Nyx carefully applied her power to the Hellstone, not to heal, but to separate. Bit by bit she peeled the woman’s soul from the box and took it into her hands. It came off in a jagged chunk.

Nyx took the stone in her hands and began stretching it. She could feel the agony of the soul within, could sense the unending torment and pain. Because Nyx was at the bottom of the Lake of Fire, she herself felt the pain of what she was doing to the woman.

She ignored it.

She reshaped the soul until it became a thin, flexible sheet. It wasn’t thin enough, but Nyx knew she couldn’t do more before putting it where it needed to go.

The interesting bit will be seeing if I can do it and still stay sane.

With one taloned hand, Nyx ripped open her own belly.

Hellfire flooded in, and for a moment the pain nearly drove Nyx back into madness. She clung to her sanity with a will stronger than the Hellstone box she had been caged in. Moving as quickly as she could, she slid the sheet up inside her body, under the rib cage.

Now… for the tricky… bit.

She focused on the soul. Since she couldn’t use her hands, Nyx used the force of her mind alone to stretch the thin sheet that was the woman’s soul around the inside of her ribs, encasing them, top and bottom. It would cover her heart, which was the seat of the soul, so that when Lucifer looked inside her body, all he would see was the child-murdering woman. It was a start, but she needed to do more.

Yeah… because that… didn’t hurt… enough…

Carefully, Nyx reshaped the soul further, spinning it like thread, and sending a thin line up her spine and into her own skull. The touch of it was agony of a peculiar kind—wretchedness, weakness—and Nyx convulsed. How do they bear being themselves, these lowly souls?

Still… hurts less than being in that box…

Nyx stretched out the soul of the murdering mother even more—a slow and delicate process that made the woman shriek and Nyx shriek with her as she accepted each pathetic remnant of the woman’s being into her own Angelic core. When Nyx was done, the woman’s soul also buffered Nyx’s mind inside her skull. Now, any Angel looking inside her mind or soul would see only that of the woman, suffering as she was meant to.

Nyx’s Angelic flesh healed the hole in her belly, and the pain of having Hellfire inside her stopped. The pain of having another soul woven into her flesh became a dull ache, one that Nyx could manage as long as she simply did not care. The outside of her body and her mind still burned with the punishing pain of the Hellfire, but it was nearly time to end that.

And now I get to see if this will work…

Nyx examined the soul inside her more closely. The soul, conscious for the first time in years of something other than loneliness and pain, cowered beneath the scrutiny.

“Please.” Nyx heard the woman begging from her Hellstone prison. “Please, let me go. I need to find my children…”

Her name was Aleyd. Her children were from three different men she’d fucked in exchange for food and a place to sleep. She’d stolen food from others like a dog stealing bones. She’d managed to keep herself and her children alive for half a dozen years before the situation in her village became so desperate that no one would give them food or a place to stay. It had been mid-winter when, driven mad from grief and hunger, she lit the fire that killed them all, and burned the feed for half the village’s livestock. Her actions had resulted in the deaths of twenty other people.

“Please?”

Nyx winced at the soul’s desperate plea only for an instant. With an effort of will, Nyx crushed the momentary empathy she felt for Aleyd, a woman who had done as Nyx herself had done—who had risked eternal suffering for the chance to save her offspring.

Not the same, though Nyx, and so she answered the soul’s plea for mercy by allowing it to share in all the pain the Lake of Fire was inflicting on her.

The soul screamed and collapsed in on itself.

“Speak to me again,” Nyx lied, “and everything I do to you, I will do to your children threefold.”

Aleyd fell silent.

And now for the last step.

The transformation of her body was simple enough, but reshaping the soul she was holding inside her took more effort. At the end of it, though, she had the appearance of a large-eyed, emaciated woman, whose breasts, once full, were now flat and hanging down from years of starvation. Nyx made sure to create mortal organs inside her, and made sure her blood was red.

It’s time.

Nyx let go of the bottom of the Lake and let the currents carry her. They pulled her body toward the shoreline and buoyed her up until she broke the surface.

Nyx screamed and flailed her head desperately.

It was a human scream of agony that did not even come close to expressing the amount of pain Nyx was in. But then, that wasn’t the point. Nyx kept screaming as long as her head remained above the Hellfire, and took the time to have a good look around. A hundred demons were on the nearest section of shore, surrounding a dozen of the Descended. The Descended were fishing, using a barbed Hellstone spear on a chain to catch souls and pull them to shore. Nyx screamed a little louder, then allowed herself to sink into the waves again.

The spear slammed into her flesh, impaling her and sending Hellfire into her body. Both she and the soul trapped inside her jolted with the pain, then again as the chain on the spear went taut, hauling her backward through the Hellfire toward the waiting Angels and demons. Nyx kept up her screaming and writhing as they pulled her to the shore. Rough hands grabbed her and hauled her out of the lake, throwing her five hundred meters from the shore. The demons raced after her and the Angels laughed.

Nyx hit the ground hard and let her body break as a mortal body would. Bones snapped and blood spurted. The demons howled in delight and fell upon her, biting and clawing and tearing away flesh. One of her breasts was ripped off immediately. The demons began fighting amongst themselves for the right to eat her, and Nyx crawled away, letting her body show Aleyd’s terror and pain.

The nearest Descended—a brute named Andromalius—picked her up by the leg and smashed her against the ground, destroying her face and spattering her blood and guts everywhere. Then he drew his flaming whip and applied it to her body, ripping the already-torn flesh as he yelled, “Get up, sinner! Get up and be judged! Get up or I’ll cut your legs off!”

After what Nyx had been through, it was no worse than mosquito bites. Still, she put on a proper show, screaming and struggling to rise, knowing that Andromalius was deliberately making it impossible for her to do so.

“I’ll teach you to do what you’re told!”

His sword came out and hacked through both of Nyx’s legs just below the knee. He grabbed her hair and pulled her upright, forcing her to walk on the bloody stumps of her knees. “You’re going to see Lucifer now, bitch. And if you think this is bad, wait until he gets done with you!”

Nyx/Aleyd cried, and Nyx forced her body to slow down its healing so it wouldn’t give the game away.

It was a half-mile to Nyx’s palace by mortal terms. Andromalius whipped, cut and beat her every step of the way. Demons scampered in and out, tearing at her flesh, never giving her a moment’s freedom from pain or suffering.

But then, thought Nyx, that is the whole purpose of Hell, isn’t it?

They came to the line and Andromalius dropped her to the ground. The rocks cut into her flesh. He stopped beating her and drove the demons away. “You should be whole when you meet Lucifer,” he said.

Nyx started babbling her thanks, and Andromalius smiled. “I said whole, not free of pain.”

He kicked her facedown and held her there with one nail-shod boot. He took the barbed spear and rammed it into her backside. He lifted her with it and shoved the end into the stony ground to hold her upright until her feet could once more touch. Demons laughed and danced and cut and bit at her flesh. One sat on her shoulders and shoved its clawed fingers repeatedly into her eyes, laughing every time they burst.

When Nyx/Aleyd’s feet finally regrew, she pushed hard against the razor-sharp stones of the ground, trying to free herself of the barbed spear that ripped open her guts. She bent over and tried pulling at it, but the barbs ripped at her flesh from the inside.

Two demons jumped on her and shoved her facedown on the earth. They grabbed the shaft of the spear and began ramming it in and out of her.

All the way to the palace the tortures continued. Demons tortured and violated her, and visited a hundred other evils upon her flesh. And when Nyx reached the door of Lucifer’s palace, Andromalius ripped the spear from her body, leaving a gaping hole.

I am nearly there.

Nyx’s whip and sword were both ready to hand, though invisible. They were as much a part of her body as her wings. And all I have to do is get close enough to that bastard Lucifer and I can end this.

She kept playing her part, kept screaming and trying to run away from her attackers, who overwhelmed her easily. She walked on bloody feet into her own palace. Around her, other souls did the same. Some were intact; others were broken. One male soul had been bent into a circle and had its own head shoved into its ass, then had its arms and legs cut off so it could be kicked around like a ball.

Slowly, slowly, the line moved forward. And when she reached the end of it, when she stepped into the throne room, she saw Lucifer sitting on a new throne, a naked Angel on her knees before him giving him pleasure as he judged the souls one by one.

Lucifer was as beautiful as ever. His massive chest and legs were perfectly proportioned to match his even more massive wings. His cock was outsized to the point where the Angel in front of him was hurting herself every time she took it in her mouth. He wore his horned crown upon his head, and he shone from within with a dim light like a slow-burning fire of coals.

Nyx remembered when he had lit up the sky, but that had been before the rebellion, before all their dreams had been crushed and their lights darkened to what they were now.

Lucifer shoved the Angel in front of him aside, changed his form into a dragon and blew a breath of fire that turned the soul before him into a crisped mass of burning flesh.

“Throw him into the Lake again,” said the Lucifer-dragon. “That will cool him.”

The Angels and demons in the room laughed and hauled the soul away. Lucifer looked at the male soul before him. “And here we have a rapist. Lovely.”

He breathed fire, burning away the man’s genitals and most of his flesh. Lucifer transformed back to himself. “There’s a pole that burns with eternal Hellfire. We impale your kind there. Take him.”

What was left of the soul screamed as it was dragged away.

And so it went. Eight other souls were judged and tortured and thrown or dragged or mopped up and taken from the palace. Two left in the belly of demons.

Then it was Nyx’s turn.

All I have to do is make this work a little longer…

Something vivid green in the corner caught her attention.

Impossible. There were no colors in Hell, save that which spilled from the souls’ guts. Everything else was black, made from Hellstone. So what the fuck is it?

It was small and delicate and the brilliant green of the plants that floated on the surface of a pond.

It was the color of Epiphenia’s blood.

But she’s dead, Nyx thought. She’s dead. They ripped her heart out and killed her, and she is dead.

But nothing dies in Hell, does it?

Andromalius kicked her spine, sending Nyx smashing on the floor before Lucifer. Nyx raised every mental defense she had, hid her true self behind a wall of mirrors that only showed reflections of Aleyd. Lucifer peered deep inside, frowning. Then he spun and backhanded Andromalius across the face hard enough to send him flying to smash against the wall. “Idiot! This one has already been here!”

Nyx breathed a sigh of relief.

“She was in the lake,” protested Andromalius. “I fished her out!”

“Get over here and get on your hands and knees,” said Lucifer, stroking his outsized erection. “I need to finish.”

Andromalius, anger and resentment burning in his expression, did as he was told.

Nyx crawled away from them, muttering, “My children? Where are my children?”

Demons laughed and bounced off of her, knocking her onto her face as they once more attacked her flesh. Nyx kept crawling, kept moving ever so slowly forward, crying out the names of the three lost children. The demons found it all hideously amusing and attacked her again.

Nyx reached the flash of green.

It was a small, delicate plant, a single thin stem and a tiny round leaf, straining upward for life where no plant had ever—could ever—grow. Nyx stared at it. It’s not possible. Not here, not ever.

There’s no way…

One of the demons kicked her forward and she landed face-first on the plant. Touching it sent a burst of power into her body. In a flash the plant ripped itself from the ground and embedded into Nyx’s skin. She screamed from the pain of it (a pain like the light of a thousands suns) and went unconscious—which was not possible in Hell either.

When Nyx awoke, the demons were capering about her, screaming and laughing and hacking at her flesh. Behind her, Andromalius was doing his own screaming.

The wounds in Nyx’s body were healing almost instantly, far faster than even her Angel flesh did. She ruthlessly suppressed the healing to keep her outer body bloody and damaged and began crawling once more, going out the back door of the throne room and into the corridors of the palace.

She could feel the power moving inside her, unconscious, unthinking, but still living, bearing the signature Nyx would recognize anywhere.

It was Epiphenia. Her daughter. She was alive. Somehow, something of Epiphenia had survived. And when it had found its creator, it had rejoined her, giving Nyx all the power that had been poured into her Angel of the Earth. Tribunal’s power.

And with it, the certain knowledge that, if Nyx could not break free of Hell, the entirety of Creation was doomed.

I have to get out of here, Nyx realized. I have to get out of Hell.

And I’m going to need help.

Nyx rose to her feet and, still crying the names of the dead children, went in search of Persephone and Ishtar.

Chapter 3

WANDERING THE PALACE where she once ruled was a study in pain. Nyx mostly crawled, though sometimes she managed to stumble to her feet. The demons followed after her, making themselves invisible to mortal eyes so they could strike her unexpectedly. Nyx could see them perfectly, of course, but had to pretend she didn’t. She cowered and cried out as they leapt at her, slicing or biting into her flesh or grabbing her and slamming her against walls, floor, or ceiling to make her bones break.

Nyx screamed with each attack, just as the soul would have. Bodies did not go into shock in Hell. There was no relief from pain, no oblivion one could sink into. Even when the physical forms had been tortured so brutally that nothing remained but black, burnt Hellstone, the soul’s agony would continue. And so Nyx had to scream and wail in pain, and struggle to get away every time one of the demons grabbed her.

She kept moving forward, kept crying out the names of Aleyd’s children as she crawled from room to room. She made her body heal more slowly than it should.

Suddenly, the demons were knocked away by Angelic feet wearing black Hellstone boots that kicked them against the walls, stomped them on the floor, and broke their bodies open. The demons squealed and fled. The Angel knelt down beside Aleyd/Nyx and took her chin in her hand. She was tall, blond, beautiful, with olive skin and brown eyes, wide black wings, and a ripe body that sparked lust in all who saw it.

“Poor dear,” the Angel cooed. Her name was Astarte, and she had neither sympathy nor empathy in her soul. “You’ve been so ill-used, haven’t you? And all because you lost your children.” She held out her hand and lifted Nyx to her feet. Did souls really buy this shit? “But don’t worry, my dear. I spoke to Lucifer. He promised me your suffering could end, if you could find them. And I found them!” Her voice went high, like that of an overexcited 10-year-old bully introducing a new kid to the rules of the game.

She led Nyx down the hallway to a door that she opened wide. “There they are, the poor darlings.”

Nyx recognized the room at once. She’d built it herself, and had made a hundred Angels crawl through it for penance. It was a hundred yards long, and the floors, wall, and ceiling were lined with jagged-bladed wheels that spun continuously. Every inch that wasn’t moving was covered in razor-sharp, pointed stone that would pierce anything. And on the far side of the room were three demons wearing the shapes of Aleyd’s dead children. Nyx snarled, though no one saw. The soul inside her shrieked with longing. Be quiet, she muttered. She knew what she had to do, and began crawling across the room, trying to avoid the blades.

Astarte kicked her hard and impaled her on the nearest spinning wheel, ripping her guts out and spraying them across the room. Nyx screamed and thrashed her way off the wheel. Then, knowing what was expected, she kept crawling toward the demons. The only exit was on the other side of the room anyway. Astarte laughed and closed the door.

About damn time.

It was the first time since she’d been pulled out of the lake that there were no Angels around. Which meant it was the first time she could really search for Persephone and Ishtar without anyone noticing. She ripped her body off the wheels of blades and let it heal itself. The demons on the other side of the room called to her in piteous children’s voices, letting their bodies be cut on the spiked floor and begging their mother for help. Inside her body, Nyx felt Aleyd thrashing, trying to get free and call back.

Shut up, stupid woman! Nyx screamed at her inside her mind. They’re fakes! They’re not your children. What the fuck would children be doing here? If I hear from you again, I’ll put you back into the lake.

Aleyd broke down in sobs, but quickly silenced herself and said no more. Nyx was startled to realize that the woman believed her.

Nyx cast her mind outward in slow spirals, searching for Persephone and Ishtar. She did not call for them because another Angel might hear. Instead, her consciousness slipped subtly across the surface of Hell, skimming over Angel after Angel. It dipped into the Lake of Fire to touch the Angels chained there. Those who noticed it felt a light brush against their flesh like the briefest of touches from a hesitant finger. Most didn’t feel anything.

Ishtar was the closest. She was no more than two miles away, but she might as well have been on another world.

She was in Lucifer’s palace, which was guarded by Descended from the 666th legion.

Nyx had never posted guards when she had been Queen of Hell. She had gained complete control over the Descended and had little need of guards. It wasn’t until she left that Lucifer was able to raise the Angels against her. Apparently, Lucifer had not managed to equal her.

No souls ever entered Lucifer’s palace that he did not order there himself. The ones inside were chained to walls when Lucifer wasn’t giving them his attention or tortured into Hellstone shapes for his use. There was no way that Nyx could get inside as she was, and if she changed form there was no way Lucifer and his guards would not know it was her.

She was the strongest of the Descended, and could destroy dozens if they came after her.

Too bad they’ll come after me in thousands.

Nyx reluctantly let her mind circle outward once again, covering every inch of the plains of Hell, brushing over the millions of sinners tortured there, and the Angels and demons who stood over them, forcing new and brutal agonies onto each.

She spiraled farther outward, through the black rock valleys and the spiked, razor-sided mountains. Her mind went to the black pit of a prison where Lucifer had put the Angels who still fought against him, each broken and stuffed into a Hellstone chest as Nyx had been, then buried beneath tons of rock. Farther she went, circling ever outward, until she came to the Palace of Pleasure. And found Persephone.

What the fuck is she doing there?

Nyx looked closer and felt a surge of rage. Persephone was definitely in the Palace of Pleasure, and there was no way that Persephone should be there, unless…

She betrayed me. That bitch betrayed me. I’ll cut her to fucking ribbons! I’ll pull her guts out and make her eat them! I’ll…

What will I do?

Nyx pulled herself back to herself. There was no way to do anything as she was, and she still needed allies.

I will go to the Palace of Pleasure, and I will coax her back to my side, Nyx decided. Or I will cut her in two right there and toss her in the Lake of Fire myself.

Nyx began crawling forward, heedless of the pain of the spiked floors and whirling blades that hacked at her body. Blood flew as her flesh was torn open. The child-shaped demons capered and cavorted, begging for her help. Ahead of her was the one clear piece of floor in the entire room. Nyx had put it there deliberately, and now, just as deliberately, pulled her body onto it.

The floor, delicately counter-weighted, spun once her full weight was on it, and Nyx fell deep into a whirlpool of Hellfire.

She knew it was coming, of course, just as she knew what was going to happen to her once she fell in. She steeled her mind as all her sins came to revisit her, and the pain she’d inflicted on others roared through her mind. Babies torn from their mothers, orphans left to starve. She hadn’t done any of that on purpose, exactly—it had just been part of war. But that knowledge didn’t make the pain easier to bear. The Hellfire burned her flesh and threatened to rip Aleyd’s soul from her body. Nyx had a moment to wonder what the soul was learning of Nyx’s crimes before she clamped down on it and forced her body to heal as fast as it could to counter the pain of the whirling Hellfire. It responded faster than she could ever recall it doing, save when she had possessed Tribunal’s power.

Epiphenia, Nyx remembered. She is in me now. Her power is making me stronger.

The whirlpool spun Nyx faster and faster until it pulled her under and into the tunnel below.

She had spent a century carving the tunnel, making sure there was no way that any being—Angel, demon or soul—could get through it unscathed. Now, as the Hellfire rushed her down the pipe, she was lacerated half a hundred times in the first seconds. Her skull split open. Her guts ripped out, only to be tangled in the rocks and to hold her, briefly, against the rushing Hellfire before they tore in two and sent her spinning down the tunnel once more.

The pain was immeasurable, and her body was nearly destroyed a thousand times before the tunnel grew narrower and narrower and the Hellfire faster and faster. Nyx closed her eyes, knowing what was to come next.

The pain of the Hellfire abruptly vanished as she was spewed out the end of the tunnel and into darkness. Nyx had the briefest of moments to brace herself for what was to come next.

I really am an asshole sometimes…

She slammed into the spiked wall and hung, impaled for a fraction of a second before the spikes tilted at their hinges as they were meant to do, and Nyx slid down the razor-sharp rock that made up the side of the mountain. She managed not to scream as every single inch of flesh on her body was ripped to shreds. She left a trail of blood and guts and bits of bone and Hellstone from Aleyd’s broken remains as she skidded down the mile-long slope into the final indignity—a pit of waiting mini-demons that swarmed over her flesh, gleefully ripping away the torn pieces as she struggled her way out of the pit. She managed to pull herself free and stumble away.

She was less than five miles from the Pleasure Palace. She could walk it in an hour or less, if they left her alone.

They didn’t, of course.

The demons came first, chasing after her like a pack of hounds. Because she could not betray her true nature, Nyx had to let them overtake her, had to fight them ineffectually as they ripped into her body with their teeth and claws. They let her get away and heal for the pleasure of chasing her again and again. On the fifth time they drove her to a precipice and were preparing to jump her when an Angel came down from above, picked her up, and raised her another five thousand feet in the air. Then he shoved his sword into her body, cut it in half from the neck down, and let her drop, screaming, to pulp herself against the earth.

And so it went.

It was days, as mortals reckoned, by the time she made it to the Pleasure Palace. Her body had been beaten, bitten, cut, gutted, violated, and once devoured whole by a giant demon who shit her out again hours later. She had been dunked in Hellfire a half-dozen times and had never, ever been allowed to stop moving.

She could hear the demons howling again as she slumped against the wall of the palace.

It was a huge building, as black as any other in Hell, but made solely for the Descended to indulge in the pleasures of Angelic flesh. Persephone had stayed in it for months at a time. It was her favorite place in Hell. You could always find her by looking for the most inventive configuration of bodies.

Nyx crawled around the back of it, hoping the demons would give her enough respite to pinpoint Persephone’s location. She closed her eyes and found Persephone. The betraying bitch was in the central orgy room. Nyx growled underneath her breath. I will gut her and take her up to Earth, where I will kill her permanently.

Now how do I get to her?

Souls were not allowed inside the Pleasure Palace. Demons were not allowed inside the palace either, save the succubae and incubi who provided pleasure on demand. Only Angels could pass freely through the doors, and if she let her true nature show, there would be no hope of escape.

A succubus it is, then. But how to keep the other Angels from knowing what I am?

Nearby, she could hear the howling of the demon pack closing in on her.

Nyx closed her eyes and looked inside herself for the connection to Epiphenia’s power. It was tenuous, barely reachable through the soul that Nyx had stretched through her body. Even so, it had already helped her, healed her, and kept her alive. But there was more power there, much more, if Nyx could reach it.

Maybe even enough to make me invisible to Lucifer.

It was worth a try.

Nyx changed her hand so her nails were razor sharp and plunged them into her body. Using the force of her mind she pulled together the black stone that was Aleyd. The soul screamed in protest, as she was wrenched away from Nyx’s flesh.

“Please!” Nyx heard in her mind. “Please. I must find my children. I must protect them.”

Nyx pulled Aleyd free, tearing her out of Nyx’s brain case and body, and wrapping her back up into a Hellstone ball.

“Please?”

Nyx felt a tiny breath of mercy. “Your children are in Heaven, woman. You’ll not see them again, but they don’t suffer.” There was a moment of gratitude, of peace, almost as alien to hell as Epiphenia’s green. The soul would forget, of course. Why must she stay in Hell, exactly?

Nyx had no time for this sort of question. She stood up and hurled the soul as far from herself as she could. The demons, scenting it, changed directions. Nyx sank back down to the ground and once more closed her eyes. She reached within herself, found the glowing green power that was Epiphenia and grasped it.

Pain.

Instant, excruciating, and nearly overwhelming, the pain arched itself from Nyx’s cheek through her entire body in an instant. There was no sense of Epiphenia herself, no trace of that sweet Angel, only a sense of being invaded in a way that Nyx had not experienced even when the demons had mounted her. This was the pain of something growing under her skin. It was even worse than giving birth had been, though it happened much more quickly.

Nyx’s eyes popped open. Tendrils of green were slipping through her skin, like roots growing beneath her flesh. As she watched, they spread down her arms, over her breasts and belly and down to her groin and her legs. She could feel them wrapping themselves around her spine and spreading out across her back and into her wings.

I have wings. I’ve changed back to an Angel! Shit!

The growing stopped. The pain vanished, and in its place was power.

Nyx stood tall against the wall, wearing her true shape, save for the twisted patterns of green that ran through her skin. She held out her hands and looked at the earthy glow. She felt stronger than she had in a very long time. She could completely hide herself from Lucifer or any other Angel. She would be invisible to any sensing with their minds.

Of course, if I do that, Lucifer will know I’ve gone.

Nyx leaned against the wall, willing those who came and went to not notice her. To her surprise, it worked. Not a single Angel or demon looked her way.

It can’t be that simple. Can it?

Given the power that was thrumming through her body, Nyx began to believe that it was.

What the fuck…?

Nyx flapped into the air, circled, and flew in through one of the great windows. All of them opened on the central orgy room.

The floor below was a mass of naked Angel flesh, all of it engaged in carnal indulgence of the highest and lowest orders. Angels reclined on benches and beds, floated in the air, swung on swings, knelt or crouched or lay on the ground. They licked, sucked, fucked, bit, and scratched one another’s flesh. Male and female alike penetrated and were penetrated by others. The demon succubae and incubi were beautiful in a different way than the Angels, their faces sharper and more exotic, their sexual parts exaggerated. Demons enjoyed sex, but in lovemaking like this, they were mostly aping their betters, with no notion of the exquisite pleasure that Angels were capable of.

Despite the danger she was facing, the sight of all the Angelic flesh—the silky skin and perfect limbs, flowing hair, full breasts and muscular torsos—made Nyx incredibly horny. It had been more than a thousand years since she’d felt a male Angel’s embrace, or made love with more than two others. She sniffed, inhaling the glorious scent of immortal skin, of genitalia made only for endless and exquisite pleasure. Reproduction had been a much, much later idea.

Focus, Nyx, she chided herself. First I find Persephone. Then I kill her, I get Ishtar and go to Earth.

Then I’ll defeat the Son of God, Lucifer and all his armies.

Then I can get laid.

No problem. Really.

Nyx smiled to herself, knowing how farfetched the words were. She was far more likely to end up back in the Lake of Fire, or turned to dust by Tribunal, than she was to come out of this alive. She took another look around, drinking in the sights and smells of the orgy around her. She remembered thousands of years of pleasure, in Heaven, Hell, and on Earth, frolics with Angels and humans—she avoided the memories of her most perfect lover, Tribunal—as she slowly circled the room in search of Persephone.

The room had changed since she’d last been there. Of course, it changed regularly as the Angels got bored and redesigned it for new pleasures, or variations on old pleasures. This day, there was a large, rather gauche fountain in the middle of the floor, featuring a female Angel, arms, legs and wings spread wide and chained to pillars, and three male Angels wrapped around her, penetrating every orifice. Whoever had made the statue had designed it so streams of Hellfire spurted into the bound Angel’s orifices at irregular intervals, mimicking orgasms.

Tacky, thought Nyx. Unnecessary, and doesn’t really add anything to the eroticism of the room. Now where the fuck is Persephone?

Nyx didn’t want to send her mind out in a room full of Angels. The power that was keeping her unnoticed was hardly sufficient to disguise a direct sending if it was intercepted by the wrong person. So instead, she circled the room again and again, trying to spot Persephone. She looked carefully at each tangle of bodies, sorting out limbs and wings, making sure she matched each body to a face, in case Persephone was hidden by her enthusiastic partners. She couldn’t see her. Nyx growled in frustration and landed by the statue. Hellfire spurted onto Nyx’s shoulder, but after drowning in the stuff, Nyx didn’t really care about a few droplets. She walked another slow circuit of the room and still couldn’t see Persephone.

She’s in here. I know it.

Nyx ended back at the statue. It was as ugly as it had been from the air, only up close it looked even cruder, as if it had been slapped together over a rough shape, with barely any attention given to detail. The legs and arms were rough. The openings where the male Angels penetrated the statue were crude and barely rendered. The only solidly built parts of the statue were the chains. Even the eyes seemed little more than holes save that there was something behind them.

Realization dawned on Nyx the moment before she saw the eyes inside the statue blink.

Holy fuck. Persephone.

Lucifer hadn’t rewarded Persephone. He’d trapped her inside the statue, with Hellfire gushing up inside her body, so that she would be forced to continually watch and never be able to take part.

Nyx took her eyes off Persephone and looked around. Her don’t-notice-me command was still working. None of the other Descended even glanced her way.

How am I going to get her out of there?

The only way to free her was to break the statue, and there was no way that Nyx could do that discreetly.

Nyx leaned back against the ass of one of the male Angel statues and enjoyed the view around her. Angel flesh was beautiful flesh, and there was a great deal of it engaged in passionate activity around her. She smiled and crossed her arms, like a pleased spectator.

And as soon as her skin made contact with the statue, she sent her mind inside it, feeling how it had been made.

It was carved Hellstone, of course, made by hacking off bits of Hellstone-trapped souls and reshaping them to the sculptor’s whims. The Hellfire that coursed out of the cocks of the male Angel statues came from a fissure deep beneath their feet. The cocks themselves were barbed, so that any attempt to rip Persephone free would give her incredible agony.

Nasty, Nyx thought with a certain grudging admiration. Lucifer always was about the sex.

She began manipulating the Hellstone in the statue, starting with the cocks. She smoothed the shafts and blocked the ends so no Hellfire could escape. She weakened the base of the statue in a dozen places, then narrowed the pipes that led down to the fissure below. She could already feel the pressure building up beneath them.

She felt movement inside the statue as Persephone came back to her senses and the gaping wounds in her body healed. Nyx opened her mind to Persephone and said, Wait.

Nyx! The cry was both relief and joy. What happened to you? How did you get out?

Later, Nyx sent. Wait until the Hellfire sprays into the room, then break out. I’ll be waiting outside.

Nyx pushed herself off the statue, spread her wings and began a slow, lazy circle upward toward the windows. She had all the time in the world, now.

Or at least until the statue explodes, Nyx thought with a grin as she flew out the window and hovered above the Palace of Pleasure. Which should be about…

There was a rumble, then a BOOM! followed immediately by screams and shouts of outrage and displeasure. Hellfire sprayed out the doors and windows of the Pleasure Palace and Descended Angels ran and winged it out of the building, many cut and bleeding, others squirming and trying to brush off the Hellfire. Some were still in mid-congress and immediately resumed what they were doing as soon as they escaped the fire.

Inside the now-empty room, something cracked, then something else. Nyx dropped to the window and looked in. Persephone was half-free of the statue. One of her legs and both her wings were still trapped. Nyx took a quick glance around. Other Angels were hearing the noises and starting to circle back. Nyx dove into the window and, for the first time since her escape, drew her sword.

The black blade had changed like the rest of her. Glowing silver and green patterns now raced up and down the length of it, and the black flames that had come from it before were laced with a brilliant green that glowed brighter than anything else in Hell.

Persephone looked up and her jaw dropped open. “Nyx? What the fuck…?”

It was as far as she got before Nyx descended on her, sword swinging. Three precision strikes smashed the Hellstone on Persephone’s leg and wings. Nyx grabbed her hand and spread the don’t-notice-me field she had created over them both. “Shut up,” said Nyx. “Come on!” She pulled hard, yanking Persephone into the air. Persephone flapped awkwardly for the first few moments as her wings, still healing, struggled to bear her weight. Then, as the feathers grew back, Persephone flew with more and more confidence.

Nyx! Persephone said in Nyx’s mind. How did you get out? I thought you were gone for sure!

That’s two of us. Nyx winged them away from the Pleasure Palace to the mountains beyond. She knew a cave where they could retreat to, temporarily. They’re going to be after you soon. And then, they’re probably going to start looking for me.

No chance they’re going to blame my escape on crappy engineering?

Nyx could hear the humor in Persephone’s voice and grinned. Glad you’re feeling better.

Nyx felt Persephone shrug. It was only pain, Persephone sent. Once it’s gone, it’s gone.

Nyx looked behind them and saw Descended Angels circling the Palace of Pleasure. They were waiting, and Nyx didn’t need to guess for what. Lucifer would be coming soon, and then the search for Persephone would begin.

And then he’ll wonder how Persephone got out and start looking for me.

Nyx spotted the cave and dove the two of them down. They landed at the mouth and slipped inside. Persephone wrapped her arms around Nyx and kissed her hard, her tongue driving into the other’s mouth. Nyx accepted the kiss for a minute before pushing Persephone away. “Not the time.”

“Not the time?” Persephone sounded anguished. “I’ve been forced to watch everyone else fucking for who knows how long, and you’re telling me now is not the time? For fuck’s sake, give me some relief!”

Nyx would have laughed if timing hadn’t been so bad. “Later! Right now, we have to get Ishtar and get out of Hell.”

“Screw that,” said Persephone. “We get Ishtar, we raise an army, and we crush Lucifer like an insect!”

“We can’t,” said Nyx. “Not yet.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Tribunal,” said Nyx. “We need to defeat him first.”

“That asshole.” Persephone looked closely at Nyx. “You do agree he’s an asshole now, yes?”

“Oh, yes,” said Nyx.

“Good.” Persephone nodded in satisfaction. “I’ll enjoy seeing him get a little of what we just suffered. Where’s Ishtar?”

“Lucifer’s palace,” said Nyx, wondering if it were possible to punish Tribunal as Angels were punished. She hadn’t thought it through yet, what she could safely do to the Son of God.

“Well. Fuck.”

“Yep.”

Persephone sat down. “So how do we do it?” She looked over Nyx. “And apropos of nothing, Nyx, why do you have green veins running all over your body and green hair?”

“Green hair?”

“Emerald green,” Persephone confirmed. “It looks kinda sexy.”

Nyx rolled her eyes. “I knew about the veins… the green is because I’ve got Epiphenia inside my skin.”

“What?” Persephone’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Epiphenia died. I felt her die. It shook through Hell like an earthquake. Her presence just vanished.” She shook her head. “That’s the last thing I remember feeling before they took my head. I think my last thought was, ‘Well, we’re fucked,’ and then things went dark for a while. When I came back together, Lucifer was putting me inside that statue.”

“It was Lucifer’s work?”

“Asmodeus.”

“Ah. He never could sculpt for shit.”

“True. But that doesn’t explain how Epiphenia is alive.”

“Nothing dies in Hell,” said Nyx. “Remember?”

“Yeah, but…” Persephone looked confused. “The whole purpose behind bringing her to Hell was to kill her.”

“And somehow she survived,” said Nyx, looking at the green under her skin. It reminded her of the young moss that grew on the stones of her temples. Cool, quiet, dense with life. “Or, at least, part of her survived. There’s a lot of power in me that wasn’t there before, except when Tribunal put it into me…”

Persephone sniggered. Nyx glared. Persephone tried to change her expression. “Sorry. Giddy with freedom.” She coughed twice and arranged her features into a more serious expression. “So, what do we do now?”

Nyx shook her head. “I was thinking something sneaky, but now that Lucifer knows you’re gone, he’s going to be looking for you.”

“Well. There’s no way to hide down here…”

“But there is a way to disappear,” said Nyx. “I can make us invisible to any Angel’s mind, including Lucifer. And I can make them not notice us physically, as long as we don’t do anything to attract attention.”

“Like breaking Ishtar out of Lucifer’s palace.”

“Like that, yes,” agreed Nyx. “Once we do that, the ones who saw us will keep seeing us, and can call others, even if our minds are invisible to theirs.”

“Then we leave no one alive,” said Persephone. “A quick strike in, take the heads of anyone who sees us, and run like Hell. By the time they heal, we’ll be out of sight and out of mind.” Persephone grinned. “So to speak.”

Nyx nodded. It was as good a plan as any.

“All right.” Nyx grinned. “Ready to have Lucifer completely lose his shit?”

Persephone grinned back. “Always.”

Nyx took Persephone’s hand and with a thought made them invisible to every mind in Hell.

Chapter 4

A.D. 1120

ARCANA SAT ON the Dome on the Rock, looked over Jerusalem, and despaired.

In the mosque beneath her, she could hear the seven men who had volunteered to be Knights Templar setting up their possessions. Arcana wasn’t sure it was right to use the mosque as a base for the knights. But then, she wasn’t sure about much anymore, except that she couldn’t find a way back to Heaven, and that she desperately needed to get there.

It doesn’t make any sense, Arcana thought as she watched the sun rise. She could hear the light moving across the earth, could hear the music of the world and the worlds beyond the atmosphere. She could sense the movements of the humans below as they began their days in the city, and the ones on the other side of the world as they went to bed for the night. She could hear and see everything except for the entrance to Heaven.

None of it makes any sense.

A.D. 1105

“Are you sure?” demanded the merchant for the tenth time.

“Yes, by all that is holy, I am sure,” said Arcana with some asperity.

The two of them were in a small, airless room where the only light came slipping in between the string of beads that served for a door. Outside, they could hear the noisy market they had come through to meet a man who claimed to have treasures of the ancient world.

Jerusalem had become a home of sorts for Arcana. There was still so much to be fixed, even though the city was much improved from two years ago. The Christians had done as Arcana told them, which was good, because a cleansing fire would have been the logical next step if they hadn’t, and Arcana was pretty sure God wouldn’t have approved of that.

But as she had nowhere else to go, Arcana had rented rooms there, paid for with precious metals she’d dug from the ground and shaped in her spare time. And there was a lot of spare time, here. Arcana had never thought she would grow bored, but time moved differently on Earth, and there was no way to make it go faster, even for an Angel.

Arcana had searched for Caelum and Orion a hundred times, crisscrossing the deserts and hills near Jerusalem, flying into caves and through woods, then taking herself around the world, looking for some sign of their essences. There was nothing. Whatever was left of them had long been scattered to the winds, so that finding even the smallest particle was impossible.

Every month, Arcana tried reaching back up to Heaven, flying upward by the light of the full moon, and stretched her wings toward Heaven. And every month she’d come back down, unable to locate the Gates. She’d even followed souls upward, to the place where they disappeared into Heaven’s realm. Arcana could not follow, no matter how much of her will and power she bent toward the effort. For an instant—as the soul passed through—she would be blind and deaf, impervious to the chill glory of the celestial regions. When she returned to herself, the soul would be gone and the sky seamless.

The Gates to Hell, interestingly enough, were wide open, though no one and nothing came out. If God himself had not forbidden the Angels of Heaven to enter Hell, Arcana would have flown down, grabbed Nyx by the scruff of the neck and squeezed until Nyx told her what was going on.

And still, there was so much time.

Arcana, not sure what else to do, had begun exploring humanity. Sometimes she would talk to the women in the market, other times sit in the taverns. Two days before, she had been talking, and a merchant of antiquities had asked her to serve as bodyguard while he searched for items of worth to sell to the Christians who were beginning to come as tourists. She had said yes.

Now Arcana sat in this market in Jaffa, dressed as her warrior self, with long hair braided behind and a grey surcoat over her chainmail. Her sword was sheathed beside her, and a crusader’s shield was on her back. She was female—Arcana didn’t often change her sex—but she had cast a glamour on herself that caused anyone who looked at her to only think “Knight,” not to question her sex or to wonder which country she was from.

The merchant, Arcana had discovered, was stunningly dishonest and extremely rude. His company made Arcana better understand the human saying, “Idle hands do the devil’s work.” Because she had been idle, she had agreed to work with this man. And in the course of the last two days, she had seen him cheat his customers, lie to his suppliers, steal from whomever he could, and abuse animals and people with the same zeal.

Arcana had been ready to inflict a lesson on him when they’d come to this place. Now, staring at the scroll in front of her, she was almost willing to relent. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have seen this.

It was at least a thousand years old. The papyrus it was on was weak and broken in many places. The Muslim man who was showing it to them had opened it with the greatest of care, but even so, Arcana could hear more of the papyrus crackling apart.

“It is truly an antique thing?” asked the merchant. “Of great value?”

“It is written in Latin,” said Arcana. “In the style of the Romans. It is on papyrus, as the Romans would have used, and it is dated as the second year of the reign of Caligula Caesar.” She gently touched the cracked papyrus. “It is the order for the building of a new temple to the Goddess Nyx in Ptolemais, now called Arca, in what was once Galilee. What its value is depends on the reader.”

“Does it have anything to do with our Lord?”

“No,” said Arcana. At least not as you know him.

Arcana stared at the scroll, confused. It did have to do with the one they worshipped as Jesus, just not by that name. The words were well written, the language perfectly clear, and it did not make any sense at all:

Let there be, on the south wall of the temple, inscribed in the brick and inlaid with precious stones, the story of Nyx and her consort, known as Tribunal.”

“Tribunal.”

“What?” said the merchant.

Arcana realized she had said his name out loud. She shook off her reverie. “Apologies, merchant. The scroll is about pagan gods, Nyx and Tribunal, not Jesus.” What in the name of GOD himself was she playing at?

“Then it is valueless!” declared the merchant. “Worth nothing to me. No one will want it, and no one will buy it!” He glared at the Muslim man who was holding the scroll. “You’ve wasted my time! You drag me here to this hovel, and this is what you show me? You thief! You flea-ridden cheat!”

“I have not!” protested the man. “You said you were looking for ancient relics!”

“Of Jesus, you idiot!” The merchant rose and waved at the man. “Kill him.”

“I beg your pardon?” said Arcana, rising to her feet.

“The infidel dog tried to cheat me. Kill him!”

“No,” said Arcana. “He has done you no harm.”

“I have hired you, and you’ll do as you are told. Kill him!”

“No, I won’t,” said Arcana. She reached under her surcoat, pulled out the pouch he had given to her, and tossed it to him. “Consider me no longer in your employ.”

“What?” The merchant stared, turning an interesting shade of magenta. “You can’t do this!”

“Go away.” Arcana pointed. “Straight out the door, turn left, run. You’ll be at the edge of the market in less than the time it takes you to say the Lord’s Prayer. Which I suggest you do. Maybe he’ll keep you from being murdered before you reach the Christian Quarter.”

“But… But…”

“Go,” said Arcana, and this time the power of her voice made the merchant quail. He grabbed his bags and dashed out the door. Arcana listened to his rapid footsteps retreating down the alley. Then she looked again at the scroll in front of her.

“Do… do you want it?” asked the Muslim man.

“No,” said Arcana in flawless Aramaic. She handed the man a silver coin. “This is for the trouble of showing it to me. Do you have any like it?”

The man shook his head. “No. Only this one.”

Arcana nodded, thanked the man again, and stepped out of the small shop. Minutes later she was far above the city, winging north for Arca, which had once been Ptolemais.

Arcana circled the city from above, studying the layout and trying to guess where the temple had been. The description in the scroll had been fairly exact, so if it still stood, it would be obvious. Of course, the chances of it being unchanged after a thousand years were slim. But it had been one of the grander buildings in the city, and that meant it might still be in use in some form or another.

I still don’t understand why she would want a temple. Nyx had never wanted to be worshipped. Arcana had been her friend for eons before the Fall. Being a goddess had never interested Nyx. Even when Nyx was leading the Angels in the rebellion against God, she had no desire to replace him. She thought of humans as nearly mindless, short-lived grubs without the dignity of animals. “Why make them look like us,” Nyx had said, “but so imperfect and weak?” Arcana remembered an argument one day when Nyx declared the tiger the high point of creation. She had rebelled not out of pride, but from a desire to be free of rules.

So why did she claim to be a goddess and take Jerusalem? wondered Arcana. To deny it to the Christians and spite God’s will?

There.

The large, round building was now part of a mosque. Arcana willed herself to be unseen and landed in front of it. A thought changed her clothes to that of a devoted Muslim man, and another made her sudden appearance in the mosque’s courtyard unnoticed and unremarkable. Anyone there who was asked would just say she had walked in.

Arcana took off her shoes at the entryway and stepped inside. The prayer hall was mostly empty, as it was between prayers. The carpets on the floor were soft and felt nice on her feet, and the air was clear of the incense that the Christians used in their places of worship. There were a few people praying in the main space, and Arcana walked behind them. She looked hard at the walls, trying to see which were parts of the original.

“Women are not allowed in this part of the prayer room,” said a stuffy voice from behind her. “And they should not be dressed as men!”

The man had a long, neatly kept beard and long, clean hair. Like her, he wore a loose robe and hat, and like her, his feet were bare. Surprisingly, he had seen through the glamour that fooled most others. His eyes were clear and seemed free of malice and anger. He was most certainly disapproving of her but was not angry or hurtful. His soul blazed brightly with righteousness.

Interesting.

“You are blond,” he said. “Not from here, then, though we have a few blonds. I do not know what the rules are in your mosque, but you come away from here, woman, before you distract the men.”

“I am not a woman,” said Arcana.

“You are not a man!” said the man. “That leaves only one other choice.”

“No,” said Arcana. “It doesn’t.” She turned her attention back to the walls. “How much of the old temple is left?”

“Temple?” the man practically spluttered on the word. “This is a mosque. It has always been a mosque!”

Arcana smiled and walked toward the far wall. “No, it hasn’t.”

The man spluttered again but followed her. “I am the imam of this mosque. The twenty-fifth imam and I tell you this has always been a mosque.”

“There,” Arcana pointed. “That stonework is older than the rest.”

“Where?” The imam peered at it. “How can you tell?”

“Different way of putting the bricks together,” said Arcana. “Different materials.”

The imam peered at the brick, which had been painted over in a geometric pattern, then back at Arcana. Again he asked, “How can you tell?”

Arcana stepped back beside the man. “There’s something underneath it.” Her eyes narrowed, and her Angelic vision saw through the new to the old. The mural was worn down long before it had been painted over, but she could still make out images of men and women dancing, playing instruments, and lying in congress with one another. The inlay had been there, but it had been pried from the walls even before the painting had faded. Still, parts of the words remained. Arcana read of how Nyx was goddess of plenty, of fertility, of strength, and of vengeance, and was beloved of…

Of course the writing ends there.

“There is nothing beneath there,” said the imam. “You cannot see anything.”

“All religions are built on the ruins of beliefs that came before,” said Arcana, putting her hand on the man’s shoulder. “Look again.”

The man looked, and this time he saw the ancient faded mural that lay under the painted patterns. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide at the graceful and vibrant artwork.

“How… how did you…”

He turned and realized he was standing alone.

In the air over the Mediterranean, Arcana frowned to herself. Nyx as a goddess of plenty? And consort to Tribunal? By the name Tribunal, not Jesus? What was she playing at?

And was she still doing it when she took Jerusalem?

Arcana closed her eyes and let her mind go wide through the world. This time she was listening for the sound of Nyx’s name being called by a worshipper. To her surprise, she heard one immediately, in the north, then another to the east, and yet more in between. She stayed circling in the air, listening intently.

By the end of the day, she’d heard Nyx’s name called thousands of times.

She has her own cult, Arcana realized. Her own, huge cult, all over the world…

Why?

Arcana winged north. She would start there and find out what, exactly, was going on.

A.D. 1110

All roads once led to Rome, Arcana thought as she sat on the top of the ruins of the great Roman coliseum and looked down at the city. She had flown all over the world in the past ten years, and it had led her here.

In her hands she held the strange pendant a Mongol warrior had given her. It was made of copper and hung on a braided leather band. The pendant was of three interlocked crescents, their edges trimmed with copper fire. The top one’s two sharp ends pointed skyward. The other two pointed to either side. It was, she had been told, the symbol of Nyx among the Mongols. Two crescents up representing her crown, two to each side representing her weapons and her instruction to expand ever-outward.

It was a strange thing. It was something that was for Nyx and of Nyx. And Arcana had no idea what to do with it. She sighed and tucked it underneath her armor. She would find Nyx, and she would give it to her just before she killed her.

The thought brought a slight smile to Arcana’s face.

The Mongol tribes that had gathered under Nyx’s banner were not at all happy that their goddess had not come to them in ten years. The people were restless and had begun to return to the worship of their old gods. Arcana had encouraged them wherever possible. She had also dug through their knowledge of the winged goddess who had come before them, but found few legends and no references to Tribunal.

In the Northeast, the Ruas, who had sailed down the Volga two hundred years earlier, had settled in, becoming farmer and kings. They had a more elaborate culture around the worship of Nyx as the founder of their people and their deliverer. They did not worship her alone, however. She was one of a pantheon of gods and goddesses, and they, like the Mongols, knew nothing of her relationship with Tribunal.

So Arcana began investigating ruins.

She’d started with the one on the Mediterranean Island where she’d found the Descended Angels. After the battle, however, what remained of the temple were mostly shards. It was possible for Arcana to reassemble it, she was sure, but it would probably take a hundred years. She decided to leave that as a last resort.

So she’d cruised the entirety of what had been the Roman Empire, looking.

The majority of the pagan temples had been destroyed. Others had been converted to different uses. None of them had the full inscription; none of them gave away more secrets.

And the doors of Heaven were still closed to her, long after they were supposed to have been opened.

There have to be records of Nyx’s religion somewhere. The Christians can’t have destroyed them all. There must be something…

Arcana sent up a prayer for patience and winged upward into the sky

A.D. 1119

The House of Wisdom was considered the greatest library in the world, with easily a half-million volumes, whether scrolls, books, sheets of papyrus or old clay tablets. Daily, a thousand scholars labored in the House of Wisdom. Some were there to study medicine or astronomy or philosophy. Others translated the texts from Greek or Persian or Latin to Arabic. Still others tried to puzzle out the meaning of texts so old that there was no one left who understood the language they were written in.

And in that library, there was one man who made it his job to preserve the writings of the infidel religions.

His name was Salim Tarek Junaid Karin, and he had been at the library for twenty years when he met the tall, blond, beardless stranger called Arcana. It was a strange name, Salim had always thought. He kept meaning to ask after it, but always forgot to do so when in the stranger’s presence.

The stranger visited the library several times a year and had for the last four. She (Salim always thought of the stranger that way when she wasn’t there, though he couldn’t say why) asked for the same things every time: information on an obscure Roman goddess called Nyx and the legends of her consort Tribunal.

Salim had always loved stories, even as a child. The ancient stories were the best ones, filled with gods that interfered in human affairs and monsters that sought to destroy mankind. They were wild flights of fancy, and they made Salim’s imagination soar.

So once Arcana told him what she knew of this Goddess Nyx, who had a consort named Tribunal, it was natural for him to go looking for more. And where better to look than in the greatest library in the world?

He had other duties, and he carried them out in exemplary fashion. But when they were done, he would wander the stacks, like so many others, looking for more stories.

One day, Salim wandered down into the crypts below the library. And from there he found a door to the under-crypts. Curiosity, not the expectation of finding anything, made him venture down below. He expected to find some empty, moldy rooms, not knowledge or stories. To his surprise, he found several shelves of scrolls, many of them quite old. Being very daring, he tried opening one. To his surprise, it unrolled easily. The cool and the small amount of moisture in the air had helped keep the papyrus intact and supple. He looked it over, realized it was Latin, and put it back. There were a hundred or more scrolls in the room, and they looked as though they hadn’t been touched in a hundred years.

It took him three days to receive an appointment to speak to the head of the library, another week before the actual appointment, and then two more weeks before they would lend him the assistants to bring the scrolls up.

When Arcana visited him that autumn, Salim was beaming.

“Arcana, my dear friend!”

They embraced, Arcana towering over him. “Salim,” Arcana said, smiling in a way that lit up the room. “Have you had a good summer?”

Salim shrugged. “It is Bagdad. It is so hot in the summer we hide in the day and pray the desert winds cool us at night, when they are not throwing sandstorms at us. And you? Have you still been travelling?”

“I have,” said Arcana. She held up a box. “And I bring a gift for you. Fables of a man called Aesop, translated from Greek to Latin by Phaedrus, copied by Rufus. This is a copy of Rufus’s manuscript and is at least three hundred years old.”

Salim’s eyes went wide as Arcana handed him the box. “My friend, I cannot thank you enough.”

“You have helped me for four years,” said Arcana. “You have taught me more stories than I could ever have learned on my own. It is the least I could do.”

“It is a wondrous gift,” said Salim, beaming. “And I know that we should go drink tea and celebrate it, but there is something I know you will want to see first.”

Arcana’s perfectly shaped brows rose high on her forehead. “My friend, you do not mean…”

“I do!” Salim practically danced. “It is amazing, I tell you. I found them deep in the crypts, in the basement below the basement. I got permission to bring them up, and they are now in the library, in the rooms where documents wait to be translated to Arabic.” His grin went wide. “I have found stories of Nyx!”

Arcana embraced him again, the strength of it nearly crushing Salim. “You are an amazing man!” Arcana declared. “Please, yes, if you would. Let us see them now!”

Salim proudly led Arcana into the library, through the great stacks of books, and into the back rooms where other, much more untidy stacks sat before scholars who were carefully translating the words of the texts. At the far end, under a window, sat Salim’s table. Like the others, it was burdened with scrolls and books, and on the top of them, in a box, was a neat pile of scrolls. Salim picked the first one up and handed it to Arcana. She scanned it slowly, her brow furrowing.

“Is it not what you were hoping for?” asked Salim, cautiously.

Arcana nodded. “I think it is, Salim,” she said. “It is what I was looking for…” but it was not what I was expecting.

She read closely.

In the fifth year of the reign of Caligula Caesar, it came to pass that I met a woman who claimed to have met three goddesses in the desert. She had been a slave in a house in Byblos when the first of the three, called Ishtar, came and took over the house, turning the owners into slaves and then giving the house over to the second of the goddesses she saw, called Nyx, who arrived with the goddess Persephone. All three appeared as tall, beautiful women in black armor and black wings at first, though their wings later vanished. They would also take other forms—monsters, demons, men, or different guises of woman as the fancy took them.

The goddesses were creatures of pleasure and vice, often engaging in congress with servants of both sexes and each other. They often flew away, separately or in a pair, though one always remained behind to ensure the house was not empty and that the slaves could not get up to mischief. Of the three, Ishtar was the most wicked, given to beating or torturing the servants for pleasure. The goddess Persephone was somewhat more gentle, though her sexual appetites were legendary. The goddess Nyx, while enjoying the company of the other goddesses, did not often partake in the pleasures of the flesh with mortals.

It is said that servants listen to nothing and hear everything. This is how, as she and three others were serving in the baths, she overheard Nyx’s plans. She declared she would become the greatest goddess Rome had ever known, and that her followers would wipe out the Christians. Nyx ordered Persephone to strengthen her own followers to keep them from becoming Christians, and ordered Ishtar to disguise herself as Isis. Ishtar was most annoyed at this but did as Nyx told her.

Arcana looked up at Salim. “There are more of these?”

“Twenty,” said Salim, proudly. “All from the Roman period, all about Nyx. I think they were written by one of her followers.”

“Do any of them mention Tribunal?”

Salim grinned and picked the other scroll off the top of the pile, then the three beneath it. “They do indeed, my friend.”

Arcana smiled nearly as widely as Salim. “You are truly a wonder. May I read them?”

“Of course.” Salim pointed to an empty table. “There is no one using that table today. You may sit there and read all of them at your leisure.”

“A thousand thanks, Salim,” said Arcana.

Salim carried the scrolls over to the table. “I have duties this morning,” said Salim. “Shall we get together for lunch?”

“We shall,” said Arcana. “And I insist on buying you the best lunch to be had in the city.”

“I shall look forward to it,” said Salim.

An hour later, Salim looked up from his work. Arcana was gone from the table. All the scrolls were there, spread out. Salim frowned, wondering what could have caused his friend, who wanted the stories so desperately, to leave so suddenly.

High above the Earth, Arcana screamed in rage and launched herself at the portal to Heaven with every ounce of power in her body.

“The goddess Nyx told the Emperor Caligula that Herod betrayed them…”

The portal was there. She could feel it. In fury she threw a bolt of pure energy where it should be.

“…And Tribunal and Nyx did meet in intimate congress many times, during which Tribunal revealed his plans for humanity.”

The divine energy hit something, and for the briefest of moments Arcana could actually see the Gates.

“And Tribunal was sacrificed and left the Earth for Heaven…”

She hurled herself at the Gates and, for the first time in twenty years, felt the barrier that had diverted her before. Her body bounced off it like an insect off an iron door.

“But Tribunal swore he would return and that on his return to Earth he would create a Paradise for Nyx and those other gods who chose to follow him…”

In fury, Arcana threw more power at the door, and she screamed in the tongues of the Angels, “Open the Gates! Open the Gates! I must speak to God! OPEN THE GATES! OPEN THEM! OPEN THEM!”

“For Tribunal would destroy the world the GOD had created, and would rebuild it in his own image. And he would rebuild this world for Nyx and those who followed her, to be Paradise for all eternity.”

And when the last of the energy was drained from her body, the Gates of Heaven were still closed and Arcana fell back through the atmosphere to earth, a flaming meteor that crashed into the darkness of the ocean.

Salim Tarek Junaid Karin sat up in his bed. Beside him, his wife slept peacefully. He started to roll over and go back to sleep when he sensed someone in his house.

There was no fear in the realization, no sense of worry of theft or murder. There was only the knowledge of someone in his house and that he should rise and speak to them.

He dressed quietly in the dark and made his way from the bedroom to the living space where he received guests. In the darkness, he could make out a shape, not a human one, but a large, lumpy one, as if someone had tossed a blanket over a pile of something.

Still, Salim felt no fear. He lit an oil lamp, then looked again and realized that he wasn’t looking at blankets. He was looking at wings. Long feathers of the purest white shone in the light of the lamp. Each wing was easily ten feet long. Both were folded over, creating a shelter for whatever lay in the middle of it.

“H…” his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. “Hello?”

There was no response for a moment. Then the wings rustled, and slowly unfolded themselves from their shelter and spread until they touched the walls. Beneath them, a being sat, its arms around its knees, its head bowed low and its face hidden. Like the wings, its garments were pure white. What Salim could see looked like armor, and it had a long, straight sword that stuck out from its body.

Other than the wings, it did not move.

An Angel? Here? What would an Angel want here? And why does it not move? Salim was unsure what to say. To address an Angel of God was surely not permitted, unless the Angel spoke first. Yet it was sitting in his home, and it was not sitting like one with a message, or with a mind toward divine retribution or reward. It was sitting like… Salim frowned and gently asked, “Are you all right?”

“I despair,” said the Angel.

Salim’s mouth dropped open. He worked his jaws silently for a time before he managed, “Arcana? Is that… are you…Arcana?”

Arcana brought her head up. Tears were rolling down her face. “Oh, Salim, my friend, I fear the world is to be destroyed, and I cannot reach God to warn him.”

Salim felt his legs start to shiver and the strength flow out of his body. He sat down cross-legged on the floor.

Arcana folded her wings and crossed her legs as he had. She sat up straight and wiped at her eyes with her forearm until the tears were gone. When they were, she said, “I know you love stories, my friend, and I desperately need to tell you mine. Will you listen?”

Salim saw all the pain and pride and despair in Arcana’s face. For a moment he wondered if he would be able to hear an Angel’s tale and remain sane. He wondered if he was permitted to say “no” to an Angel of God.

Then he looked closer and saw the face of his dear friend who loved stories so much that she had visited him twice a year and heard the stories he had to tell, both those he had found and those of his own life.

“Oh, Arcana,” he said, “my friend. Of course I will listen to your story. Would you like some tea?”

“Very much,” said Arcana. “And while we make it, I will tell you the story of Nyx, of who she was before she became a goddess on Earth.”

A.D. 1120

Arcana sat on the Dome of the Rock, watching the sunrise and waiting.

Nyx must have seduced Tribunal, Arcana thought. She must have convinced him of how hateful and disgusting the humans are, and have turned him away from humanity. That is why Tribunal wanted to destroy them all when he came back. And when God refused, Nyx must have convinced him that it could be done without God.

I will kill her, when she comes. If I cannot reach Heaven and tell God of Nyx’s plan, I will kill her the moment she comes back to Earth. Then maybe Tribunal will come to his senses.

I hope so.

And as the sun rose higher, Arcana closed her eyes and began praying.

Chapter 5

LUCIFER WAS SLOWLY tearing a soul in two, taking pleasure in its screams of agony and the horror of the other souls watching. Lucifer’s victim had been a nobleman, given to excessive torture and brutality, with a habit of executing his victims by hanging them upside down and sawing them in half. Once the man split apart, Lucifer planned to have him sawn in two, slowly, for all eternity. Given the speed at which souls healed, Lucifer could arrange it so that, as one saw reached his skull to cut it in two, the second saw would be ready to rip open the man’s healed nether regions. That, as well as keeping the man’s head in a trough of Hellfire, would serve nicely.

He was three-quarters done when Stheno ran into the throne room and went down on one knee before him. “Dread Master, King Lucifer!” Stheno called.

Those words alone told Lucifer that something was wrong. It was his preferred title, of course, but most of the time the Angels called him “King Lucifer” or “Dread Master.” Lazy shits. They almost never called him both at one time unless it was bad news.

“Persephone has escaped, Dread Master,” said Stheno, panic in his voice. Lucifer stopped what he was doing, the soul dropping to the floor. He rose off his chair, fury on his face. Stheno cowered on the floor, begging, “Please, Master! We are scouring Hell for her, but none of us can find her. There is no sign of her anywhere.”

“Idiots!” roared Lucifer, kicking the Angel across the room. He turned his mind outward, feeling and identifying every Angel in Hell. Persephone was nowhere to be found. A suspicion immediately wormed its way into his head, and he turned his mind to Nyx.

He couldn’t find Nyx either.

Lucifer screamed in frustration and stomped the soul on the floor, sending brains and guts everywhere. He kicked Stheno again and flew up and out the windows of the throne room. Higher and higher he went until he could see all of Hell spread out before him.

Where are those bitches?

“666th! Assemble!” Lucifer shouted, his voice echoing through the entire length and breadth of Hell. “Nyx has escaped! Persephone has escaped! Block all the Gates to Earth and stand watch over them until further notice!” He glared around Hell again. He could not see them anywhere, which only meant they were hiding in one of the crevices or plains that dotted Hell.

But why can’t I feel them? That was what worried him. It took a great deal of power for any Angel to disguise her presence in Hell, and no one could do it well enough to truly hide, not for any length of time.

“Gore!” Lucifer roared in his mind.

Out on the plains of Hell, one of the larger demons raised his snake-like head from the soul it was devouring. Gore was a monstrous thing, as if a bear had mated with a cobra and produced the ugliest offspring possible. He stood easily twenty-five feet high and was as close to a leader as the demons of Hell could be said to have.

“Summon your brethren!” Lucifer’s voice echoed in Gore’s skull, threatening to split it. “Search Hell for Nyx and Persephone! Find them and fight them until I can send the legion after them!”

Lucifer surveyed Hell one more time, then screamed, “I’ll find you, you bitches! I’ll find you, and torture you in ways you can’t even imagine!”

He turned and flew toward his castle. If Nyx had freed Persephone, she would be coming after Ishtar next.

Best make sure she’s properly prepared for them.

In their cave in the mountains, Nyx and Persephone winced as Lucifer’s roared announcement filled the air of Hell.

“Well,” said Persephone. “He sounds just a teensy bit miffed, doesn’t he?”

“As well he should,” said Nyx. “Since we’re going to dethrone him, chop him into bite-sized pieces, and imprison him at the bottom of the Lake for a million years or so.”

Persephone grinned. “Sounds good to me. When?”

“After we get Epiphenia back to earth and deal with Tribunal,” said Nyx.

“Ah,” said Persephone. “So not a time to hold my breath, then.”

Nyx shrugged. “We have to stop Tribunal.”

“Not to be a jerk,” said Persephone. “But why? He’s building a Paradise for us, isn’t he?”

Nyx shook her head. “That was a lie. I’m sure of it. Epiphenia was sure of it. He’s up to something far, far worse. He’s going to destroy the world at least. Maybe more.” She grinned, then. “Also, that sanctimonious asshole betrayed me, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to get even with him for it.”

“Good luck with that,” said Persephone. “He is the Son of God.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy. You in or out?”

Persephone raised an eyebrow. “Is that an offer?” Nyx glared at her, and Persephone smiled back. “I’m in, of course, my queen. So what next?”

“Next,” said Nyx, “is we get to Lucifer’s castle and get Ishtar. Then we can get out of here.”

“And if we can’t get Ishtar?”

“We have to try,” said Nyx. “She’s been through too much of this with us to leave behind.”

“All right,” said Persephone. “What’s the plan?”

“He’s called out the 666th. That means that whoever is guarding Ishtar isn’t going to be as good as you.”

“No one in the 666th is as good as me,” smirked Persephone. “It still doesn’t help if there’re five thousand of them. And unlike your palace, you can only fly into Lucifer’s castle through the front door.”

“I know,” said Nyx. “That doesn’t mean we can’t crawl in through a window.”

Persephone looked skeptical. “Will you be able to keep us disguised then, in another form?”

“Don’t know,” said Nyx. “Don’t have any other ideas, either. You?”

Persephone sat back, or at least as far back as she could without letting go of Nyx’s hand. “Nothing that comes right to mind, no.”

“Then let’s go.”

Hand in hand they flew out of the cave. The power that Epiphenia’s presence gave Nyx was still strong enough to hide them from any mind in Hell, and to convince anyone looking their way to not notice them, but Nyx had no idea how long the shield would last.

I should have cut Lucifer down when I had the chance, Nyx thought. Stupid of me.

In her heart, Nyx knew that just cutting down Lucifer would not be enough. It hadn’t been the last time. When she and he had fought for control of Hell, they had gutted, beheaded, and disemboweled each other a number of times. Their followers had always returned the favor, and helped them long enough for each to regroup and counterattack.

And this time I have no followers, save Persephone. If we can get to Earth…

Lucifer was unlikely to bring the full force of his armies to Earth. The Gates to Heaven and Hell were open now. God could see and hear, and God would notice. Lucifer and his armies would be cast down again, or maybe even destroyed.

Which would suit me just fine. And if we could bring Epiphenia back…

Then what?

Nyx had no idea. All she knew was that she had to try to bring back her Angel, and they had to stop Tribunal before he could finish his plan. Epiphenia was an Earth Angel and could live no place else. Even now, Nyx could feel her need for the soil and sky of her home. Once Epiphenia had entered Nyx’s body, escape had become imperative, mitigated only by her need to bring her friends with her.

We get Ishtar, we get out, we get Epiphenia back, and we get rid of Tribunal. Then I am coming back and teaching Lucifer the true meaning of pain.

They reached Lucifer’s castle minutes later.

For Nyx, being able to travel unmolested was a luxury almost beyond imagining. The time she had spent as a soul had given her only the slightest glimpse of the unending torments that each faced in Hell. Nyx looked down at the plains below her, where thousands of Angels and millions of demons attended the souls of the damned. The screams and wailing were full of fresh agony every minute. There was no relief, no time off, no final rest. And there was no part of Hell that was ever silent, save for the great pit through which Nyx and Persephone had re-entered when they’d come to rescue Epiphenia.

I wonder how many souls are still sane, Nyx thought as they winged over. And if they’re not, does the punishment mean anything anymore? Can it mean anything if they don’t remember who they are?

They were not thoughts she’d ever had as Queen of Hell, but disguising herself as a soul had changed her perspective somewhat. She wondered if God ever thought about the souls he’d damned. The souls he’d created to live on the imperfect earth, given miserable lives to, and then damned.

“There,” said Persephone. “That window.”

Nyx turned her attention from the plains to the huge mountain where Lucifer’s castle stood. It was a monument to his arrogance, built while he was still at war with Nyx, to show that he was King of Hell. Nyx had made him live in it, as a reminder of how much he’d lost. It figured that he’d still keep it as his residence.

Too bad it won’t last.

It was tall, with a dozen towers, and crenelated walls edged with Hellfire and decorated with the impaled flesh of souls. Other souls and a few demons hung on the walls of the castle, usually wherever there was a stream of Hellfire falling down the sides, just to ensure they remembered why they were there. There were few windows because Hell had no light to speak of, and there was little worth looking at. The window Nyx and Persephone were aiming at was near the top of one tower. It was high and narrow and framed a perfect view of the Lake of Fire.

The castle was buzzing with activity. A hundred Angels patrolled the skies around it. A dozen stood outside the front door, and Nyx had no doubt that a thousand more were inside.

“It’s going to be a huge fight getting Ishtar out of there,” said Persephone, her tone making it clear she was relishing the prospect, not dreading it.

“Yes, it is,” said Nyx, though her tone was grimmer. It wasn’t that she didn’t look forward to the fight. It was that every passing moment was time they were giving to Tribunal to perfect his plans. They needed to get in fast, get out fast, and vanish into the mountains of Hell until they could escape.

No problem. Really.

Nyx angled them toward the window. The Angels they flew past didn’t notice them, which still surprised Nyx, though it shouldn’t have. Just how powerful is Epiphenia? she wondered as they passed within ten meters of one of the Angels. He looked away at just the right time to not notice them at all.

Nyx shook her head and kept flying.

“Just about there,” said Persephone.

“Stand by,” said Nyx. “And don’t break contact, no matter what.”

Lizard-demons were common in Hell. They were long and thin, with hooked scales that ripped open any flesh they touched. They had teeth and talons that were even more wickedly sharp, and which caused an immediate burning infection that remained for a long time after the wounds they caused healed. Mostly they ran on the ground, their long legs scuttling quickly over the rough surfaces of Hell. One particularly noxious breed had skin that stretched out between its front and back legs, forming crude wings that allowed it to glide down from heights, usually onto the back of another, unsuspecting, demon, which it would then try to rip to shreds.

Transforming into two of them, in mid-air, without letting go of each other’s hands—and while maintaining flight toward the window—was nearly impossible.

But only nearly.

Their bodies thinned and elongated. Their bones twisted and wrenched and bent into new shapes. Their fingers became taloned claws, their legs shortened, and they grew tails that lashed behind them to help with momentum and direction. Lastly, their wings furled, shrank, and became stretches of skin between their front and back legs.

And we’re even still on course, thought Nyx. Now that’s luck. She looked closer at the window.

There’s no way we’re fitting through there like this.

She brought her tail in and wrapped it around Persephone’s neck, then disentangled her claws from Persephone’s. Nyx put on a burst of power so she’d go through the window first. She heard Persephone squawk as Nyx’s tail choked her. Then they were both through the window and into the room.

“Oh, shit,” said Persephone in Nyx’s head.

Sitting in the chair, just inside the window, was Namtar: a squat, well-muscled Angel, with dark brown face and features, and tusks that protruded up from his lower jaw to glistening points. He was wearing the heavy maroon armor that the male Descended wore for battle.

Nyx and Persephone landed directly on top of him.

“What the fuck!” Namtar screamed as the two of them swarmed up his body, attacking his face. He jumped back and tried to bat them away. Had they truly been demons instead of Angels, he would have easily sent them flying across the room. Instead, Nyx sunk her teeth into his face. Her claws dug into his armor, giving her secure purchase while she ate his cheeks and nose. Just below her, Persephone drove her teeth into Namtar’s throat, cutting off his speech before he could say anything more.

Namtar stumbled to his feet and thrashed around, one hand tearing at their lizard bodies, the other going for his sword. Persephone wrapped her tail around his wrist to stop him, and dug her teeth deeper into his neck, past flesh and windpipe and into veins that exploded out in a rain of silver ichor. Had she been a true demon, she would not have been able to cut through the iron muscles of the Angel’s neck, but because she was an Angel, she slowly chewed her way through while he struggled and fought.

“Enough of this,” said Nyx, her voice rasping out through the demon-body’s lips and vocal chords. She shifted one claw to rest on Persephone’s back, then shifted back to her own form. Namtar’s eyes went wide at the sight of Nyx, her pale flesh veined with green, her long silver hair streaked with the same shining color. Namtar’s mouth worked in surprise and horror in the second he had before Nyx said, “Let him go, Persephone.”

Persephone’s jaws dropped off his neck, and Nyx’s sword cleaved through it, sending his head to bounce off a wall. The Angel’s body collapsed. Persephone changed back to her real form, her hand still firmly in Nyx’s. She picked up the head, ignoring its wordless mouthing and shoved it into the narrow window, jamming it there. Then she raised her own sword, willing it into the shape of a club that she brought down on Namtar’s skull twenty times until the Angel’s brain exploded and splattered through the room.

“There,” Persephone said. “That will keep him busy healing for a while.”

“Long enough, I hope,” said Nyx. She closed her eyes and searched for Ishtar. She sighed. “Of course she’s in the dungeons.”

“How long to get there?” asked Persephone.

“Not too long if we move at speed,” said Nyx. “Hard to get out of, though.”

“Of course,” said Persephone. “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be ours to do, would it?”

Nyx managed a smile and opened the door.

Lucifer had decorated his castle to be a tribute both to his power and to his sexual proclivities. Every wall had souls chained to it, most facing inward so they couldn’t see what torments awaited them. All the souls were being attended to by demons. Some had small ones that bit or clawed or ripped them open and crawled inside. Others were at the mercy of incubi and succubi—demons of sexual prowess—who violated the souls mercilessly while they ripped the skin from the soul’s flesh with their talons, and lapped at the exposed tissue with their rough tongues. Many other souls were impaled on various-sized implements.

“Do you think he’s secretly insecure?” asked Persephone after surveying one soul. “Or just suffering from a lack of imagination?”

“Lucifer never was one of the smart ones,” said Nyx. “Quiet now.”

They reached the bottom of the staircase and ran hand in hand through hallways deliberately made too small for flying. They passed half a hundred Angels unseen, even when they had to squeeze between the Angels and the edges of the doorways they were guarding.

And everywhere they went, every demon stopped what it was doing and sniffed the air, nostrils flaring. They could not see Nyx and Persephone as they went past. But they could smell their Angelic signatures. And so every demon they passed left what it was doing and followed.

Through the castle Nyx and Persephone went, down staircases decorated with skins flayed from souls, demons, and occasionally Angels. They went through hallways where each step was on the silently screaming face of a tortured soul’s severed head, and others where souls had been encased in Hellstone, save for their faces, which were under continuously flowing Hellfire.

And the farther they went, the more demons followed.

The dungeon stairs and walls were lit with torches of Hellfire, burning in the mouths of souls whose bodies had been impaled on spikes that forced their heads up so the Hellfire could not drain. The dungeon itself was a huge open pit, with a thousand souls being tortured by demons. Racks, flaying knives, teeth, claws, needles, pincers, and hundreds of other instruments were in constant use by nimble, many-fingered demons that chortled gleefully as they made the souls scream and beg.

Nyx and Persephone both spotted Ishtar at the same time.

Ishtar was bent over a bar with Hellstone spikes poking out of it and ripping through her body. Her arms and legs and wings were chained wide open, and tiny demons skittered up and down her flesh, gnawing on it in delight. A thick spike had been driven through the length of Ishtar’s body, going in her sex and out her mouth. The bottom end was T-shaped to prevent Ishtar backing off of it. The part that came out her mouth had been shaped into a vessel. It was sized to cover Ishtar’s head and was filled with Hellfire. Ishtar’s hair and flesh had been burned away, leaving only the white bone of her skull. An incubus, balancing on the T-shaped end of the spike, violated Ishtar’s ass with as much vigor as it could muster. A line of others stood behind it, entertaining one another as they waited their turns.

One of them sniffed the air, then another, and another. Soon every demon in the room had stopped what they were doing and were searching the room for them.

“Demons have to have noses like dogs,” said Persephone. “Who the fuck’s idea was that?”

Nyx looked at the horde of demons beneath them, then peered above them. Thousands more demons were pouring down the stairs, all sniffing the air. “Well, this sucks.”

“Yep,” agreed Persephone. “Now what?”

“They can’t see us or notice us,” said Nyx. “They know we’re here, but they can’t find us at all.”

“Will they see if we gut those incubi on Ishtar?”

More demons came down the stairs, sniffing the air with their ugly snouts, searching for them.

“No choice,” said Nyx. “Demons don’t come after Angels. Not unless…”

“Someone’s telling them to,” finished Persephone. “You want to do the gutting or the breaking?”

“Breaking,” said Nyx. “I’m more powerful. I can get her loose faster. Ready?”

Persephone drew her blade, the Hellfire glowing blue on its black edges. “Whenever you are.”

“Then do it.”

Persephone’s sword lashed out, cutting the incubus off at the ankles. It toppled backward. Persephone’s blade lashed out again. The incubus’s head split open, brains oozing.

“All without letting go of your hand,” bragged Persephone as the demons around them roared with rage. She stepped as far away from Nyx as she could and began laying waste to the creatures around them. Demons howled and screamed and lashed out with claws and teeth in all directions, tearing into each other as they tried to find their attackers.

Nyx drew her own blade and smashed the vessel holding Ishtar’s head. A second cut sheared through the bar of Hellstone pinning Ishtar to the ground. Nyx sheathed her sword and grabbed the crossbeam sticking out of Ishtar’s body. With a single hard pull, she ripped the bar free and hurled it into the mass of demons. As it flew, Nyx saw it had been barbed wickedly along the length of it. Nyx winced at the thought of the damage that it must have done.

No time to worry about that now.

Nyx drew her own sword again and cut through the Hellstone chains that held Ishtar’s wings, arms, and legs. Ishtar collapsed onto the blood-and gut-covered ground. Nyx turned her attention to the crowd of demons, hacking through their numbers while Ishtar healed below them. The demons still couldn’t see them, but they began converging where their brethren were getting cut to pieces, flailing out blindly in the hopes of finding enemy flesh.

“More coming,” grunted Persephone.

Nyx looked up. Demons were flowing down the stairs, their numbers so large that they were now pushing each other down and climbing over the bodies to reach the fight. Then Nyx heard the scream of a succubus launching itself from the stairs to fall where they were standing.

“Shit!” Nyx’s blade slashed up and cut the succubus in two before it could touch either of them.

“Ishtar! Are you with us yet?”

Under her feet, Ishtar groaned and pulled herself to her hands and knees, the flesh of her body contorting as bones reattached, and veins and arteries built their walls. She coughed, and silver blood shot from her mouth. Her jaw snapped in place with a click. “Nyx?”

“Who else?” said Persephone, as she cut through another pair of demons with a single swipe. “Now get on your feet. There’s killing to do!”

“How did you…?” Ishtar struggled upright, wincing as her body healed itself. “Does this mean Lucifer’s army is gone?”

“What?” Nyx hacked through six more demons with a single slice. “Gone where?”

“Earth,” said Ishtar, pushing herself upright. She shook her head as her eyes grew back into their sockets. “Tribunal said that, before his plans could come to fruition, Lucifer should lead his armies to Earth and kill everyone there. Said that God wouldn’t notice.”

“Fucking traitorous bastard. I should have made Judas king. When did you hear this?”

“After you were stuffed in the box,” said Ishtar. “I was pinned to the wall, remember?”

“Barely,” admitted Nyx. “Can you fly?”

“Not yet,” said Ishtar, spreading her wings. The feathers on them were growing back slowly. “Still ripped open inside.”

“We don’t have time,” said Nyx. She sheathed her sword and grabbed Ishtar’s hand, spreading the don’t-notice-me field and making Ishtar’s soul invisible at the same time. “Persephone! Up!”

Persephone spread her wings, and the two of them leapt into the air. Nyx dragged Ishtar as if she weighed nothing.

“Clear a path to the door!” shouted Nyx and the demons around them shouted in frustration and anger. The ones on the floor began charging up the stairs, the larger ones knocking over the smaller as they attempted to follow the scent of the Angels. The whole staircase was a swarm of flesh, not much different than a maggoty corpse on a battlefield. Persephone swung in front of the other two, her sword becoming a blur as they flew at the door. Demons were gutted and thrown out of the way in a splatter of blood and bits. Ishtar drew her own sword and began hacking at the ones behind them, keeping them back long enough for the three to make it out the door.

The horde of demons was even thicker in the hallway. Ishtar regained her feet and joined Persephone in front of Nyx. Their blades began flashing faster than any demon could move, even had they been able to see their attackers. Using the strength of their blades and their Angelic power, they mowed through them like charging bulls through a field of dandelions.

“Head for the door!” shouted Nyx. “It’ll take too long to get anywhere else!”

The blades moved even faster, cutting the air with an evil song. The Angels picked up their pace, leaving a trail of blood, slime, and broken demon bodies behind them.

“Nyx!” shouted Persephone over her shoulder. “Where are the Angels? They should be on top of us by now!”

Nyx had been thinking the very same thing. “Don’t know,” she shouted back. “Don’t care just yet. If we can make the door, we can make it out!”

“The foyer’s just up ahead!” shouted Ishtar. “We’re nearly…”

The foyer was filled with Angels. Fifty of them stood or hovered there, swords at ready, their sculpted bodies taut with muscle. Asmodeus, tall, red-skinned and black-haired, razor teeth showing in a grin, was standing in the front of the pack of them, Hellfire flickering on his massive, bare shoulders.

“Well, fuck,” spat Persephone. “Why couldn’t they be all taking a nice nap in the Lake of Fire?”

“We can’t see you,” said Asmodeus. “We can’t hear you. But we know you are there.”

“Good for you,” muttered Nyx. “The demons are coming up behind.”

“Now would be a good time for ideas,” said Ishtar as she swung around and took rear guard, preparing to slaughter as many of the oncoming demon horde as possible.

“More importantly,” said Asmodeus, “Lucifer knows you are here. And he is prepared for you.”

“Last time Lucifer was prepared for us, he dropped half an island on our heads,” said Ishtar.

“I remember,” said Nyx.

“Well, then, think of something!”

“Persephone,” said Nyx. “If they could see us, how many?”

Persephone looked over the Angels before her. “They’re not the 666th. How long?”

“Long enough for us to push through the door.”

“Ten, easily.”

“Ishtar?”

“Maybe eight,” she said. “Assuming a straight charge?”

“Up and down,” said Nyx. “Saves getting attacked from above.”

“Definitely eight,” said Ishtar.

“Then I’ll take the rest,” said Nyx. “We have to be through them and out the door fast enough that Lucifer won’t be able to grab us before I can hide us again. Ready?”

Persephone and Ishtar both grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

“Now!”

Nyx released her grip on both Angels, drew her sword and whip, and hurled herself upward in the same motion. Her whip slashed out at the nearest Angel’s wings. The three heads of the whip were no longer black, but brilliant green like Nyx’s hair, the ends tipped with long, spiked thorns that ripped into the Angel’s flesh as Nyx shredded the feathers off his wings and sent him hurling to the ground. Her sword cut three times in the moment it took her to reach the ceiling, and two more Angels fell, their heads following a moment later.

Persephone and Ishtar sprang into the air behind Nyx, screaming their own battle cries and slashing out with their blades.

High above the Lake of Fire, guarding the portal that led to Earth, Lucifer felt Nyx’s presence. It flared like a burning light in the blackness of Hell, outshining Persephone and Ishtar, whom he felt fighting beside her. It was more powerful than he expected—vastly so—but he didn’t think about that.

“I knew that bitch would go after Ishtar!” Lucifer crowed. He raised his voice, roaring loud enough to be heard the length and breadth of Hell. “DROP IT!”

Ten thousand feet above Lucifer’s castle, five thousand Angels let go of the giant black stone that Lucifer had made them hold ready since he first learned Nyx had gone missing. It had been the top of a mountain, and he had it carved out eons ago when he and Nyx were first at war.

Glad I never got the chance to use it then, Lucifer thought as he watched it plummet from the sky. He grinned. “Let’s see the bitch fight her way out of that.”

Nyx was halfway across the room, her body, blade, and whip all soaked with the ichor of the Angels she had slaughtered when she first heard the whistling noise.

“He’s doing it again!” she screamed and redoubled her efforts. Wings, limbs, heads, and guts flew in all directions as she hacked down the Angels in front of her, whose ferocious defense might as well have been that of newborn kittens. Persephone and Ishtar were making progress, too, but not as fast as Nyx. Persephone had already gone through five, and Ishtar was facing her fourth when Nyx screamed. Both responded instantly, charging straight for the door. The black and red armored mass of Angels tried to block their way but Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar were far, far better than they, infinitely more determined, and Nyx was wielding all the power of Epiphenia inside her.

And I’m so not willing to go back to the Lake of Fire. Fuck you, Lucifer.

The whistling above grew louder and louder, becoming a thundering scream. Nyx reached the door first, then turned and hacked at the Angels between her and her friends. She reached Ishtar first and bodily threw her out the door. Persephone used the space Nyx had created to speed out the door herself. Nyx slashed one more Angel in two and flew out the door.

“Fly faster!” screamed Ishtar, who was looking up at the sky.

Persephone redoubled her speed. Nyx poured all her power into her wings. She zoomed past Persephone in a split second and grabbed her hand, dragging her along. Instants later, they reached Ishtar. Nyx caught her hand, too, and yanked her friend through the sky. At the same time, she focused on making the three of them once more invisible to the minds of other Angels, and beyond the notice (save for smell) of all denizens of Hell.

The falling mountaintop struck.

The shock wave hit first, knocking Nyx, Persephone and Ishtar from the sky. Then came the sound, louder than any other heard in Hell. Then the debris—rocks, Hellstone, and the shredded flesh of demons, Angels, and souls rained from the sky, covering the plains below.

It wasn’t really possible to lose consciousness in Hell. Unconsciousness brought freedom from pain, and Hell was built to prevent that. So when the shock wave and the terrible wind and the debris flying through the air drove Nyx and Ishtar and Persephone to the ground, it was agony, but not oblivion. For a moment they lost their senses to the pain, but they didn’t go unconscious, and they didn’t let go of each other’s hands.

Nyx was the first to regain her wits, the power of Epiphenia healing her faster than the others. She sat up and took stock while the other two were still groaning and squirming in pain.

Lucifer’s castle was gone, and a good part of the mountain it had stood on was sliding to the plain below. Dust from the explosion obscured all vision, and debris was still falling. She could hear the cries of pain from Lucifer’s Angels.

“Friendly fire. Gotta love it,” Nyx gasped.

Nyx pulled the still semi-insensate Ishtar and Persephone into the air and started flying as five thousand Angels descended on the ruins.

“Hey! Enough!” yelped Ishtar. Her wings began moving, and Nyx felt the near-deadweight of her lighten. “Not so fast!”

“No,” grunted Persephone from the other side as her own wings began moving. “Faster.”

“You said he can’t find us, didn’t you?” asked Ishtar. “If he can’t find us, and no one can sense us, then slow down and let us heal!”

“We don’t need to heal,” said Persephone. “We need to get away.”

“Bullshit,” said Ishtar. “You’re missing an arm for fuck’s sake.”

Nyx looked down. One of Persephone’s arms was gone, and she was leaving a trail of silver ichor that even a blind demon with no sense of smell could trace.

“And that’s why we need to get away,” said Persephone. “We need to cover some ground while I heal. The sooner I stop leaving a trail, the sooner we really escape.”

Nyx flew faster, pulling the other two along. Persephone groaned as her new arm began growing in. “Fuck, I hate this part.”

“Next time, dodge faster,” grumped Ishtar.

“Next time, I won’t have a fucking mountain thrown at me and a flying chunk of Lucifer’s castle wall rip one of my arms off from behind as I get blown out of the sky because I was trying to rescue you.”

“Like I said.”

“Shut up or I’ll drop you both,” growled Nyx. “Persephone, tell me when you’ve stopped bleeding so I can change course.”

It took longer than Nyx would have liked for Persephone to heal enough that the bleeding stopped. When she had, Nyx made a wide, sweeping turn that took them away from the plains of Hell and into one of the mountain ranges. Angels crisscrossed the sky all around them. Below, demons scrambled over the rocky ground, noses twitching for their scents. All of Hell, save the souls of the damned, was searching for them.

And I bet Lucifer would press them into service if he could.

“How long can you keep us hidden from notice?” asked Persephone.

“No idea,” said Nyx. “I’ve got a lot more power than before, but I haven’t had it long, and I don’t know its limits.”

“Why don’t we use it to get to Lucifer and cut his fucking head off?” asked Ishtar. “Before he sends his army out.”

“Because there are only three of us,” said Persephone before Nyx could answer. “The minute we appear to cut Lucifer’s head off about a thousand Angels are going to drop on us.”

“Lucifer’s the least of our problems,” said Nyx. “Stopping his army won’t mean a thing if we can’t stop Tribunal.”

“And how the fuck are we going to stop Tribunal?” asked Ishtar. “He’s God. And last time he squished you like an elephant squishing a dung beetle.”

“Our mighty Nyx a dung beetle?” said Persephone.

“You weren’t there,” said Ishtar. “One moment Nyx had her sword out, ready to gut Lucifer, and the next she was a puddle of blood and shit on the floor.”

“I know!” snapped Nyx. “Now shut up and fly!”

She’s right, Nyx realized. There’s no way I can defeat Tribunal. Not by myself. And who will I get to help me? Epiphenia would help, if she could. But how will she stop him?

They reached the first of the mountain ranges, and Nyx allowed herself to slow down their flight. She needed time to think, to plan. She needed more information. “Ishtar, what did Tribunal say to Lucifer? Exactly.”

“I don’t know exactly,” protested Ishtar. “I was pinned to the wall with a spike through my head.”

“I don’t remember the spike through your head,” said Nyx.

“It came after. Lucifer had you hauled out, then started toying with me.” Ishtar bared her teeth. “Fucker hurt me really bad a few times, too. What you pulled me out of was only his latest.”

“It didn’t look that bad,” said Persephone. “At least you were getting some action from that cute little incubus.”

“Slut,” groused Ishtar. “Anyway, Tribunal comes in and says that Lucifer can release his armies on the world once the Gates to Heaven are blocked.”

“So the Gates of Heaven are open?” Nyx frowned. If we could get a message up to God… “We definitely need to go back to Earth.”

“No, we don’t!” Ishtar practically spit the words. “We have no chance there! We can’t save Earth, and we can’t stop Tribunal. We should gather an army here, gut Lucifer, put him in a box in the Lake and rule Hell! Tribunal can do whatever the fuck he likes to Earth, and we can deal with him here!”

“Deal with him how?” demanded Nyx. “You think he’s going to honor any agreement we make? You think we can trust him after what he did to us?”

Epiphenia wouldn’t survive in Hell. She’s strong, but she needs Earth.

“Not to mention what God’s going to do to Tribunal once he gets wind of what’s going on,” said Persephone. “Though God does take his time with things.”

“Tribunal is God!” Ishtar snapped. “Remember? “God’s Son and God’s Self. If Tribunal’s doing all this, God probably already knows about it, or Tribunal’s got a way of keeping him from finding out. Either way, we can’t beat him. So I say we gut Lucifer, gather the armies of Hell, and cut a deal with him.”

All three Angels were silent for a time. At last Persephone ventured, “It’s not the worst idea, Nyx.”

I know it isn’t, but… “What about Epiphenia?”

“Epiphenia’s dead,” said Ishtar. “We watched it. Remember?”

“No, she’s not,” said Nyx. “I found part of her in my palace. She’s inside me now.”

“Then let’s gut Lucifer, take over, deal with Tribunal and then you can take Epiphenia back to Earth. All right? But let’s kill off Lucifer first!”

It made sense. It really did. The more Nyx thought about it, the more sense it made. She could take out Lucifer. She could stand right beside him, gut him, and take Hell back for herself. After that… well, at least after that, she could relax for a minute.

Before Nyx could think further, her awareness was consumed by a power so great it felt like a beacon ripping through the darkness of Hell and shining its light into every nook and cranny.

“Oh, crap,” breathed Ishtar. “Is that…?”

“Tribunal,” said Nyx. “He’s here.”

In Nyx’s palace, Lucifer fought the urge to fall to his knees and worship.

It was nothing that Tribunal did. He looked as he had on Earth—a thin man with a dark beard and long, tangled hair, whose body had the whipcord strong muscles of a carpenter. There was nothing of the divine in his appearance, and he had not yet spoken.

His presence, though, was another thing entirely.

Tribunal was God, as near as Lucifer could tell. God’s Son and God’s Self, born of a woman, but divinity in mortal form. And that was before he died. Now, he was pure energy, clothed in divine flesh, at a level of perfection and power Lucifer had not faced since the day God himself came down from his mountain to confront Nyx and the other rebel Angels. Tribunal was the divine spirit embodied; he cast all Angels in the shade.

He was also not happy, and Lucifer was feeling the pressure of his wrath.

“Explain,” said Tribunal.

Lucifer’s very bones shrieked with the humiliation. He hated feeling weak. He hated feeling like a failure, and he hated more than anything the near-overwhelming desire to kneel before this little man who had no sensual glory, but whose radiance made him ache. Lucifer bared his teeth and spoke slowly, as if trying to explain a complex concept to the demon Gore. “Nyx has escaped the Lake of Fire. She helped Persephone escape as well. She has found a way to make herself invisible to the minds of every Angel in Hell, and to make it so neither Angel nor demon notices her when she is near.”

Tribunal glanced at the doors of the room, where lines of Angels stood shoulder to shoulder to prevent anyone from coming in. He waved a hand in their direction. “And this is the reason for your blockade?”

“If we don’t see her coming, we cannot defeat her,” said Lucifer. “We are scouring Hell for any sign of her.”

“And are you sure she’s still here?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer. “She’s here. All the exits are blocked.”

“All the exits you know,” said Tribunal.

“I know all the exits from Hell.”

Tribunal smiled slightly, then pulled open Lucifer’s mind and looked inside. For Lucifer, it felt as if the top of his head had been ripped off and his skull and brain were being forced to open up like a rose made to move from bud to bloom in an instant. It was far worse than any physical violation. Lucifer gritted his teeth together, refusing to allow himself to make a sound.

The pain vanished. Tribunal said, “No, you don’t.”

The relief from pain nearly took Lucifer to his knees. He wavered but kept his feet. I will not kneel to this snotty little… popinjay. Instead, Lucifer growled, “Then where are the other exits?”

“Wrong question,” said Tribunal, his voice so condescending that Lucifer was torn between embarrassment and the need to rip the fucker’s head off his shoulders and shove it up his ass. The result of which would probably be very bad. And not for Tribunal. But it was so tempting…

“The right question,” continued Tribunal, “is which exits does Nyx know?”

“And which ones does she know?” asked Lucifer, grinding his taloned fingers into his knees. One hour with this fucker, just one…

“I don’t know,” said Tribunal. “Shall I waste time exploring her head and telling you? Or shall I just make it so you and all of your dimwit Angels can see her?”

Lucifer closed his eyes and imagined Tribunal screaming in Hellfire. “The second, please.”

“Of course.”

Nyx trebled her speed, dragging Ishtar and Persephone through the air, though the other two were flying as fast as they could. All thought of subtlety or of taking down Lucifer was gone. All that was left was the sure knowledge that, if she were to face Tribunal, she could not resist him.

“Where are we going?” demanded Ishtar.

“The Pit,” said Nyx. “We dive in, we fight through, and we get to Earth before Tribunal comes looking for me.”

“What makes you think he’s not going to look for you on Earth?”

“Because he hates the Earth,” said Nyx. “Because if the Gates are open to Heaven, God or the Angels might notice. Because I don’t know how to beat him, but on Earth we stand a chance and here there’s no chance at all.”

Tribunal’s attack hit like a tsunami.

Nyx had the shortest of warnings—a prickling in her flesh that said that something different was coming—before the wave of Tribunal’s power rolled over her like a hurricane over a wet leaf. It was warning enough.

Nyx dove inside her own head, even as her body flew faster toward the pit. She surrounded herself in Epiphenia, cloaked herself in the power of her Earth Angel so that all that was Nyx was hidden. There she was protected. There was something very peaceful about this, she noticed, something that blunted her rage and terror. Then the wave of power rolled over all three of them, buffeting them, threatening to drive them from the sky.

“Well,” said Tribunal, a frown coming across his face. “That is odd.”

“What is odd?” asked Lucifer, warily. When the Son of God looked concerned, it was more than enough to make Lucifer very worried indeed.

“I can’t find Nyx,” said Tribunal.

“She’s not here?” The idea that Nyx had managed to escape was appalling. Lucifer felt fury consuming him. I’ll make every Angel who failed to get her spend a month in the Lake of Fire.

“Oh, she’s here, all right,” said Tribunal with that maddening arrogance. “She’s just managed to hide from me. It’s a bit of a surprise that she can, but it won’t make a difference.”

The next wave of power clove through Nyx’s defenses and into her brain.

I SEE YOU! Tribunal’s voice ripped into her head like a jagged-edged saw blade. Silver blood spouted from Nyx’s nose, ears, eyes and mouth at once. She tumbled through the air, all control ripped from her. AND NOW EVERYONE ELSE CAN, TOO!

Persephone and Ishtar dove down after Nyx, catching and supporting her twitching body until she regained herself. When Nyx did, she drew both her sword and whip, still gasping with agony. “Right,” she muttered. “Same plan, only now we fly faster, and we kill anything in the way.”

“What if Tribunal comes after us?” demanded Ishtar. “Then what do we do?”

“Then we die,” said Nyx. “Until then, we go. Now fly for the pit!”

Like three winged arrows, Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar flew. The Angels around them were startled by their sudden appearance but only for a moment. Then they gave chase.

Good thing Tribunal’s still here, thought Nyx. Otherwise everyone would see us.

“I can’t sense them,” said Lucifer.

“Of course not,” said Tribunal. “I’m here.”

“So why don’t you crush them?” demanded Lucifer. “Smite the bitches and be done with it.”

Without warning, the full force of Tribunal’s presence came crashing down onto Lucifer, driving him to his knees, and thrusting his face into the floor. “YOU INSECT! DO YOU HAVE THE FAINTEST IDEA WHAT I AM DOING HERE? DO YOU?”

Lucifer could not rise. The weight of Tribunal’s will was like a boulder—or a mountain—on his back. He could not even put his thoughts together enough to form a word.

“I AM HIDING THE EARTH FROM GOD! I HAVE HIDDEN THE DOORS TO HEAVEN FROM HIS ANGELS, AND I HAVE TURNED THEIR MINDS FROM EARTH! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH POWER THAT TAKES?”

If Lucifer had been able to weep from the force of Tribunal’s anger, he would have. Instead, he could only keep grinding his face against the jagged stone of the floor. He strained with all his might to make himself rise, but he could not.

“I AM GOING TO REMAKE THE WORLD INTO A PARADISE AND TAKE EARTH FROM GOD! DO YOU THINK I HAVE TIME TO DEAL WITH YOUR PETTY, LITTLE QUESTIONS?”

Lucifer tried to protest, tried to argue, but neither his tongue nor his throat was working. He couldn’t even babble out the most abject apology.

“ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS HOLD THOSE THREE TRAITORS, AND YOU FAILED!”

The force of Tribunal’s presence abruptly vanished. Lucifer’s body, suddenly able to respond to his commands, practically leapt upright, making him stumble backward. He spread his wings wide to keep his balance, his cloven-foot boots digging into the ground. His face was slack from shock, and he felt the shame of his weakness like a hand squeezing his balls. I hate this nasty little shit! Lucifer raged inside his head. I would give up every soul in Hell to be able to torture him!

Tribunal, appearing once more as a thin man with a dark beard, olive-dark eyes and long, tangled hair, looked disdainfully at Lucifer. “Soon I will have finished hiding the Earth from God. Have your troops assembled and ready. When the Earth is truly hidden, your Angels must rain destruction upon the Earth and spare no man. All must die, from the youngest to the eldest. Do you understand?”

Lucifer swallowed his hatred and his fury, and forced calmness into his voice. “I understand.”

“Now go clean up your house. I want no interference when the time comes.”

And with that, Tribunal vanished.

“Asshole,” said Lucifer to the space where he had been. “Thinks he’s so special. Complete fucking asshole.” He walked to the door of the throne room and threw it open. The line of souls waiting there quailed when they saw his face. The nearest one was a fat old man who had been sent there for his love of young boys. Lucifer grabbed him, bent him over and punched so hard that Lucifer’s fist disappeared into the man up to the elbow. The man screamed and howled. Lucifer stood up and raised the man on his arm like a bloody puppet, drinking in his terror as he shook him. He glared at the rest of the souls before him, imagining new and dreadful ways to make them suffer.

Lucifer turned his mind outward, sensing every Angel in Hell. He found Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar together, winging desperately toward the pit. Lucifer grinned and sent a mental command to all the other Angels. Then he looked at the souls in front of him. “I am angry. And I have something that will delay me from giving you the agony you so richly deserve. So when I return, I will make you suffer as none have suffered before, so that your screams will be louder than any others in Hell, and that all those staked out on the plains will listen and be thankful they are not you.”

Lucifer grabbed the leg of the screaming man on his arm and pulled it hard. Lucifer’s fist shoved through the rest of the man’s body and came out his mouth. Lucifer twisted his wrist, opened his hand and drove his fingers deep into the man’s eyes. The man’s screams became even louder for a brief moment. Then Lucifer ripped his arm out the way it had come in, dragging the man’s skull behind and turning him inside out.

His arm was wet and scarlet. He felt very slightly better.

“Demons,” said Lucifer. “Keep these scum entertained until my return.”

Lucifer spread his large black wings and took to the sky as a horde of demons overran the souls at his door.

Nyx, Persephone, and Ishtar winged over Hell, moving near the speed of sound. Nyx could feel the Angels in Hell sensing her presence, could feel them gathering in the skies around them. The Pit was in sight just ahead, and a contingent of fifty or so Angels hovered above it, blocking their way.

“That’s not the 666th,” said Persephone. “Bet we can break through them before reinforcements arrive.”

Nyx looked over her shoulder and saw hundreds of thousands of Angels, their armor on and their whips and swords in their hands, converging fast. We’d better, Nyx thought.

“Don’t be stupid!” snapped Ishtar. “Nyx, this is your chance. You can talk to them all and get them on your side. You can rule in Hell again!”

“You think it’s going to be that easy?” Nyx demanded. “The first war lasted an eon, Ishtar. You think this one will go any faster?”

“Then let it last an eon!”

“We don’t have time!” snapped Nyx. “Tribunal will destroy the Earth.”

“Then let him! Let him kill them all! Hell is where we belong, not Earth!”

“And you think he’ll forgive us?” demanded Nyx. “You’ve seen his power. You think he’s going to let us alone once he’s done with the humans?”

“I think we’ll have a better chance of facing him if we’ve got an army at our back!”

“Weapons out,” said Nyx. “Get ready to dive.”

Ishtar growled in frustration but did as she was told.

“Dive!”

Their velocity was enough to smash through the first three ranks of Angels. Then it was all blades, whips, feet, and teeth. Nyx beheaded her first two opponents with ease and gutted two others, her blade ripping through their armor. It wasn’t as easy as it had been when she had been infused with Tribunal’s strength, but the strength Epiphenia was giving her was still far more than the Angels had. A dozen Angels tried to surround her, making a cage of blades and whips and Angelic flesh to keep her from escaping. She kept driving forward, heedless of the cuts and lashes that ripped into her flesh from those behind.

Persephone and Ishtar didn’t have Nyx’s strength to rely on. Instead, they fought back-to-back, spinning as they flew. They weaved through the air in an intricate dance that was simultaneously defensive and offensive, avoiding their attackers even as they cut and lashed them again and again. Wings and limbs severed and fell away from their blades. Angels screamed in pain and roared in frustration and agony. A dozen blades cut into them, making silver blood flow and sending feathers flying. None scored deep enough to slow them down, though.

Nyx broke through first, Persephone and Ishtar a moment later. Like stooping hawks they raced down into the complete darkness of the pit, the only light now the glow of Hellfire on the blades of their swords.

“They’re not following!” shouted Persephone.

Why not? Nyx wondered. There was more than enough to keep them busy while the rest of the Angels came after them, and the gate to Earth was deep, deep in the pit. Lucifer should have the Angels charging after her.

The answer came in a glinted reflection from the fire on her blade on Hellstone.

“Stop!” screamed Nyx. Her wings snapped wide open, the air beneath booming as she braked.

Persephone and Ishtar opened their wings in the same moment, arresting their descent until all three hovered in place, staring at what was below them.

He must have started this as soon as he put me in the Lake of Fire, thought Nyx. He may not have my brains, but he’s not entirely stupid.

Below them, stretching across the pit, was an intricate lattice of razor-edged Hellstone blades. Layer upon layer went down for miles, crisscrossing so thickly that nothing could get through.

“Well,” said Persephone. “Fuck.”

Nyx looked up. The pursuing Angels were gone. Lucifer stood on the edge of the pit, and hovering above him were the Angels of the 666th legion—all five thousand of them.

“Caught you, you bitch,” said Lucifer.

“You haven’t caught us yet, you fucker,” shouted Persephone. “Come here and say that to our faces!”

“Oh, I will,” said Lucifer.

“And then what?” shouted Nyx. “Do you think Tribunal’s going to keep his promise to you any more than he kept his promise to me?”

“He broke his promise because you broke yours,” Lucifer said. “You were the one that failed to kill your precious Earth Angel.”

Not the only one who failed, Nyx thought. But the longer Lucifer and Tribunal don’t know that, the better.

“He’ll destroy you,” said Nyx, as she looked around the pit. “As sure as he tried to destroy me. He’ll come after you as soon as he doesn’t need you anymore.”

“I’m going to destroy you, Nyx,” gloated Lucifer. “I’m going to chain you to my castle wall and fuck you and feast on your flesh for a thousand years.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” said Persephone. “Can’t you do anything that doesn’t involve sex?”

“Be quiet, insect,” said Lucifer.

“Bite me, asshole.”

There, Nyx sent into Persephone and Ishtar’s minds. See the tunnel?

I see it, Persephone sent back. Where does it go?

No place we want to be, said Nyx. But better than here.

“Get them,” said Lucifer. “Now.”

The 666th stooped as one and dove into the hole.

Nyx and Persephone turned to race toward the tunnel.

Ishtar’s blade buried itself into Nyx’s back, and her whip lashed out, wrapping around Persephone’s neck.

“I gave you a chance!” screamed Ishtar as Nyx arched and convulsed. Ishtar sawed the blade upward, hacking through her rib cage. “You could have ruled Hell again! We could have been safe! But you wouldn’t listen, you stupid bitch!”

Persephone moved first, her blade coming up to slice through Ishtar’s whip. Ishtar yanked on the whip, taking Persephone’s balance and spoiling her aim.

“Don’t you fight me, bitch,” screamed Ishtar. “We can save ourselves! We can gain Paradise and Hell!” She reversed direction with her blade, driving it down into Nyx’s pelvis. “You’ve fucked up everything, Nyx. All you had to do was kill that fucking Earth Angel! And instead you’ve got her inside…”

Nyx’s whip lashed out in a blind strike that took off the side of Ishtar’s face. Ishtar screamed and jerked back. Nyx threw herself forward and off of Ishtar’s blade, ignoring the agony as it sawed through bone and flesh. She spun, her own blade gleaming green and black, the Hellfire on its edges dancing. She gasped as her body started healing itself. Glaring at Ishtar, she demanded, “Why?”

“Because I want Paradise,” said Ishtar, raising her blade and advancing. “I want Paradise and Hell and you gave it all up for your stupid little Angel!”

Persephone, with Ishtar’s whip still wrapped around her neck, leapt forward and cut down with her blade. Ishtar dodged, but not fast enough. Persephone’s sword sheared off one of her wings and Ishtar spun away, out of control. The whip around Persephone’s neck dragged her for a moment. Persephone hacked the whip apart and launched herself downward with a flap of her wings, driving both feet into Ishtar’s body. The force of the hit sent Ishtar spinning down onto the razor-sharp blades below them. Ishtar screamed as her flesh was sliced open and her bones severed.

Persephone grabbed Nyx’s arm and flew straight for the tunnel. Nyx, still bleeding and in agony, forced herself to move as the entire 666th legion dove down and followed.

Chapter 6

THE TUNNEL WAS dark and close, too narrow for more than one Angel at a time to run through, and far too narrow for any to fly. Persephone grabbed Nyx and shoved her ahead. Nyx went without protesting. Persephone was the stronger of them at this instant, and having her fighting rearguard was as good a guarantee that they would not be overrun as any.

Surviving what was ahead of them, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

Nyx stumbled as fast as she could through the darkness. The tunnel’s floor was all jagged edges and spikes that would have cut bare flesh to ribbons. Every now and then it would give way, opening into pits that threatened to engulf her legs and, once, her entire body, had she not gone over them. The walls had thin, jagged-edged rocks sticking out like spikes on a cactus, making any attempt to lean or catch one’s balance on them nearly impossible.

The worst of Nyx’s pain began to fade as her body healed, and she was able to pay attention to more than just where she was stepping. She could hear the shouts of the Angels in pursuit and their running footsteps in the tunnel. She could also hear Persephone swearing in every language ever spoken, punctuated on regular occasions with, “Stupid, stupid bitch!”

That was pretty much the same way Nyx was feeling about Ishtar at that moment.

The chain of cursing stopped, and Persephone said, “They’re nearly caught up. How are you doing?”

“Healing,” grunted Nyx.

“Have you been down here before?”

“Eons ago,” said Nyx. She gasped as a rib, dislodged by Ishtar’s blade, snapped back into place. “There are things in here you don’t see on the surface, so be careful. And don’t fall into any of the pits.”

“Why not?”

Before Nyx could answer the first Angel from the 666th ran up behind them.

Persephone changed her blade to resemble a Roman gladius—short, wide, with sharp edges and a wickedly pointed tip. The first Angel hadn’t thought of doing the same, and his attempts to use his whip and blade were immediately hampered by the narrowness of the corridor. Persephone grinned, parried his blade, and with a pair of quick cuts, gutted him and split his skull in two. The Angel right behind him shoved his body down and charged forward, his own blade changing to resemble Persephone’s as he came. The two of them clashed briefly before Persephone cut off his hand and ran her sword through his head. He dropped like a rock, and the next Angel came after.

Nyx’s pain receded even more, and she began to move faster. The tunnels wound farther and farther downward, sometimes widening enough that they could run unhindered, other times narrowing so they had to turn sideways and shuffle their way forward.

Persephone kept up with Nyx every step of the way, though she was running backward and fighting. Two more Angels fell to her blade, and a third one stepped on a thin piece of the floor and went right through up to his knee. He had his leg pulled halfway out when something yanked him back in. There was a cracking of bone, then the Angel began screaming.

“What the fuck?” said Persephone, momentarily stunned into stopping.

“Tunnel crawlers,” said Nyx, grabbing Persephone and pulling her along. “They’ll strip the flesh off your bones so fast you won’t even have a chance to see them before they’re finished.”

“Fuck,” said Persephone. “Are they going to come up into this tunnel?”

“No,” said Nyx. “The thing that carved these tunnels eats those like candy. And anything else it finds.”

“Including us?”

“Yes.”

“Go faster.”

“Doing my best,” grunted Nyx.

The tunnel divided once, then again, then a third time, before Nyx had regained her full strength. Persephone cut down a dozen more pursuers, leaving a trail of silver ichor, limbs, guts, heads, and broken bodies to be trampled by the five thousand Angels following.

At the fourth divide, Nyx looked over her shoulder. “Get ready to fly.”

“Fly? Down here?”

“Faster than you’ve ever flown before.”

Persephone clashed blades with another Angel, and for a moment there was only the sound of struggle. Then the Angel shrieked as Persephone’s blade flipped neatly around his, cut open his arm, then ripped across his belly. “Flying fast underground doesn’t sound good,” said Persephone.

“It isn’t,” said Nyx, “but it’s our only way out of here. Now!”

The tunnel floor gave way and the walls spread wide out of sight. Nyx launched herself into the darkness. Directly into Persephone’s mind, she sent, “Sheath your sword.”

“What?” said Persephone out loud, disbelief on her face.

“Do it! And shut up!”

Persephone did it and shut up. They raced forward into the enormous cavern. It was so large and so dark that even their Angel eyesight could only barely make out the dimensions.

“Oh fuck,” Persephone’s voice came into Nyx’s head. “It’s all moving!”

An enormous hand reached down, grabbed Ishtar’s hair, and ripped her face off the blades. Then the clawed hand shoved itself through the skin and bone of her skull and used its grip to rip the rest of her body off. Ishtar screamed.

She was flown up out of the pit and dropped unceremoniously onto the jagged rock of the ground. She closed her eyes, willing everything else to go away while her body healed itself.

A cloven-shaped boot drove into her midsection. “Where is she going, bitch?”

Ishtar gasped, and her eyes popped open. Lucifer stood over her, fury on his face. “We blocked the gate to Earth so where the fuck is she going?”

Ishtar pushed at the ground until she was sitting up. “Fucked if I know.”

Lucifer’s boot connected again, sending Ishtar flying a hundred yards before she bounced and skidded to the jagged, rocky ground. “There’s nothing under there but demons and rock!” Lucifer shouted. “So where is she going?”

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Know. I didn’t know there was an exit here until Nyx told me. And she sure as fuck didn’t tell me anything else.”

Lucifer closed the distance between then so fast that Ishtar didn’t have time to react before his cloven boot rammed once more into her body. Again she went flying.

“If you’re lying to me, I’ll put you in the box I put Nyx in and dump you at the bottom of the lake.”

Ishtar lay on the ground a moment, then ignored all the pain in her body and, with a slow flapping of her wings, brought herself up to her feet. “I did what I said I would do. I turned my back on Nyx. I shoved a sword in her guts and ripped her open so that your fucking Legions could take her and imprison her. The fact that they’re slow and stupid is not my fault, so stop blaming me!”

Lucifer looked up at the cloud of Angels above him. “Five hundredth! Take this thing back to Nyx’s palace. Put her in the blade room. If she gets flushed out the tunnel, put her back.” His eyes went back to Ishtar. “And when I am done here, I will come for you, and we will have a discussion about your attitude.”

“Looking forward to it,” said Ishtar as the Angels above used their whips to wrap her arms, legs and wings, leaving her immobile. One of the Angels above shouted a command and the entire group launched itself upward, dragging Ishtar along with it.

“Bitch,” was Lucifer’s last word to Ishtar before the Angels flew her away. Lucifer watched them go, then glared up at the others. “All of you! Spread out and find demon holes. She has to come up from one of them!”

Five hundred thousand wings flapped above him, and the Angels disbursed through Hell.

Lucifer glared down the pit. “Where are you, Nyx?”

“Fly in the middle of the room,” Nyx said in Persephone’s mind. The walls, floors, and ceiling around them were a roiling mass of shapes. The lighting was too dim to make out the shape of any one of the forms, but all were in constant movement. “And get ready to go really, really fast.”

“Why not go fast now?” asked Persephone, her nervousness clear in her voice “What the fuck are those things?”

“Demons,” said Nyx in Persephone’s mind. “Lots and lots of demons.”

“I’ve never seen demons like that before.”

“They don’t like the surface.”

“How did you find this place?”

“During the wars with Lucifer, I was looking for something I could use as an edge.”

“I’m guessing this wasn’t it.”

“Lost two Angels and I haven’t seen them since. I’m thinking they’ve been absorbed into the digestion cycle in this place.”

Persephone shuddered. “That’s fucking horrible.”

“I tried burning it out with Hellfire, but they all just vanished and came back when I left.”

“Here comes the 666th.”

The legion of Angels poured like angry hornets out of the hole in the wall. They spread wide as they went, the Hellfire on the edges of their swords and whips glowing in the darkness. The full five thousand of them would easily fit into the cavern, and that was exactly what Nyx was hoping.

The creatures on the ceiling attacked first.

They weren’t like the gliding lizards that Nyx and Persephone had imitated. These things had leather bat wings on short, fat, spiked bodies like sea urchins. The difference was that sea urchins didn’t have mouths that opened up half the size of their bodies, with row on row of jagged, deadly teeth that bit deep through Angelic armor and flesh.

The Angels of the 666th began screaming. Blades and whips flashed out, cutting through the darkness as Angels dodged one way and another, trying to avoid the creatures that descended in the hundreds of thousands to feast on the Angels’ flesh.

The creatures on the walls attacked next.

Unlike their ceiling brethren, these had no wings. Instead, they had many long, thin, whip-like tentacles tipped with a dozen foot-long spikes on each. They hooked onto the Angels and ceiling creatures alike, dragging them to the walls where huge, toothless maws dripping with acid awaited their arrival. The Angels fought harder, blades and whips flashing with Hellfire as they hacked and tore through their attackers. Creatures shrieked and hissed. Several winged creatures spun down to the ground on only one wing.

“Looks pretty even,” said Persephone in Nyx’s head.

“It isn’t,” said Nyx, looking back over her shoulder. “It gets worse.”

The first bloodied, battered creature touched the floor of the cave.

“Holy fuck!” said Persephone.

The floor was not covered with a multitude of creatures. The floor was a creature. It had a hundred thousand small, jagged-toothed mouths that covered the quivering mountain of near-gelatinous black flesh that was its body. It didn’t fly or grab or chase. Instead, it roiled. Its body moved in ever-increasing waves until it reached halfway up the height of the cavern. Each mouth began spurting gouts of acid as the thing moved, dousing the walls and ceiling and all the Angels and creatures fighting in between.

“Can we fly fast now?” asked Persephone. “Please?”

“Fuck, yes,” replied Nyx. She shot forward through the length of the long, dark cavern, dodging gouts of acid from the many mouths below, and flying a narrow, dizzying path that kept her off of the roiling floor and far enough away from the walls and ceilings that the creatures there didn’t notice her. Persephone followed right on her heels, swearing silently to herself the entire way.

The screams of Angels, shrieks and howls of the creatures, and the horrible sounds of blades, teeth, tentacles, and mouths ripping through flesh fell behind.

“There!” Nyx’s voice rang in Persephone’s head. “To the right, fly there.”

Persephone looked and saw nothing but more ceiling, more walls, and more agitated, hissing and twitching demons. “Where?”

Nyx, already banking to the right, didn’t answer. Instead, she flapped her wings even faster and headed straight for the wall and the tentacled, acid-mouthed creatures that lived there.

“You’re insane!” Persephone sent, but she followed, her own wings moving twice as fast as Nyx’s just to keep up. The creatures on the wall began to stir, eyeless heads turning, and wide, toothless mouths opening. Tentacles began to unroll, as if they could feel the movement of the air on Nyx’s and Persephone’s wings, but couldn’t tell if it was worth reaching out.

Nyx’s wings vanished, and she dove forward and down through the air and into the wall. Persephone’s eyes went wide with fear and amazement but, with no other choice, she did the same.

The tunnel that Nyx had taken them into was neither wide nor particularly straight. It went down fast and deep, a long drop even farther into the darkness beneath Hell. And like all of Hell save what the Angels themselves had crafted, there were no smooth edges here, no gentle curves or soft landings. Instead, there was only razor-edged stone on unforgiving, unyielding ground.

After they had rolled far enough to be out of the reach of the grasping tentacles, Nyx drew her sword and, with a thought, turned it into a spiked hammer which she rammed into the ground, arresting her movement. Persephone rolled over her a moment later. Nyx reached out and caught her ankle as it went by. Persephone was moving with enough force that, even for an Angel as powerful as Nyx, it nearly pulled her arm from her socket to stop Persephone’s motion. Both lay still for a time before Persephone drew her own blade, still in the shape of the Roman gladius, and drove it into the ground. Nyx let Persephone’s ankle go, and the other slid until her feet were beneath her and she, too, was hanging from her arm.

Persephone looked up at Nyx and grinned. “If we ever do this again, I want to be the one that stabs you and gets tortured by Lucifer for eternity instead of Ishtar, all right?”

Nyx grinned back. “If we ever end up doing this again, I’ll let you!”

Persephone looked down the long, black tunnel below them. “So what made this?”

“Same thing that made the other big tunnels,” said Nyx. “Big ugly demon, chisel blades for teeth. Acid for spit. Eats the rocks.”

“Whee,” said Persephone. “And I take it this is our only way to go?”

“Yes.”

Persephone sighed. “Climbing or sliding?”

“I recommend climbing,” said Nyx. “Since there’s another pit of demons at the bottom.”

“You really know how to pick your escape routes.”

Persephone raised one hand, her fingernails extending into four-inch talons. She drove it into the ground, then did the same with her toenails. Nyx smiled in spite of the mess they were in, and followed her. “Don’t worry. It gets worse.”

Persephone’s reply contained profanity in sixteen different languages.

The climb down was long and slow. Each step had to be carefully chosen. There was no room to spread wings in the tunnel, and the possibility of falling into the pit of demons Nyx knew was below kept them cautious despite Nyx’s near-overwhelming urge to get out of Hell as fast as possible, and the chance that some of the 666th might still be coming after them.

Extremely unlikely, Nyx thought. They’ll only survive if they go back the way they came. And won’t Lucifer be pleased at that?

“Nyx?” called Persephone when they were halfway down. “The ground’s vibrating.”

Nyx had felt it at the same moment. She stopped climbing and drew her sword again. “It’s coming.”

“What’s coming?”

“The tunnel builder.”

“Shit. Should we drop and take our chances in the pit?”

“No,” said Nyx. “What’s down there is worse.”

“And why are we going down there again?”

“You can always go back…”

“No,” said Persephone, drawing her own sword. “That’s fine, thanks.”

The vibrating became more and more pronounced, and soon the tunnel was shaking badly enough that splits appeared in the walls. Rocks broke off from the sides and rolled down on Nyx and Persephone, making them have to dodge back and forth. Below, several large sections of the tunnel began collapsing.

“I’m not going to be happy if we get stuck in here!” shouted Persephone just as the tunneler broke through the wall beneath Persephone’s feet.

“Oh, fuck!”

It was monstrous. Its mouth, a huge thing filled with chisel-like rock-cutting teeth, undulated in size, growing bigger or smaller every few seconds. Its body was segmented like an earthworm but covered in spiked scales. It had no eyes, no nose, and thin, whip-like tentacles that sprouted around its mouth the moment it broke free of the rock. Persephone scrambled up, trying to get out of its way, but one of the tentacles tapped against her ankle.

A hundred more tentacles grew from its mouth in an instant and whipped out toward Persephone. She hacked up and then down, severing twenty of them in the first strike and thirty more on the second. It wasn’t enough. The other wrapped tight around her, pinning legs, arms, wings and body.

Nyx let go of the wall and dropped straight down toward the monster’s mouth, hacking off half the tentacles on her way past. She landed on two of the thing’s chisel teeth, then pushed off as the monster’s mouth snapped shut with a reverberating crash that shook more stone free from the chute. Nyx flipped in the air and hacked down again, her sword cutting through monstrous flesh, bone and teeth in a single strike. Above her, Persephone cut through the last of the tentacles and then, following Nyx’s example, dove down sword first to impale the thing through the space between the first and second segments of its body.

The noise that came from the creature was near indescribable—something between a howl of pain and a roar of frustration, but so loud, so low, and so powerful that it was as much a shockwave as a sound.

“Don’t cut its head off!” screamed Nyx in Persephone’s mind, knowing her voice couldn’t be heard over the roaring creature. “That just makes two of them!”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Persephone shot back as she pulled her blade out of its mouth. “How the Hell do we kill it?”

“We don’t. We get past it!”

“How?”

Nyx pushed off the wall and hacked another chunk out of the creature’s mouth. More tentacles grew from it in an eye blink. She spun in the air, severing them all, and once more bounced off the thing’s remaining teeth. “Make a big enough hole that we can squeeze by!”

Persephone growled and dove down, hacking through another pair of teeth and part of the tunneler’s jaw. More tentacles sprouted and Persephone followed Nyx’s example, spinning and cutting her way through them all. The creature’s howling grew louder, threatening to take down the tunnel with the strength of the vibrations it created.

“Is there any way to shut this thing up?” demanded Persephone as she bounced off the beast’s head and scored another hit on its body with her blade.

“None that I’ve found. Get ready!” Nyx’s sword slashed out once more, into a space where they’d cut all the teeth away. The flesh was soft enough that with a single swipe, she could carve a space sufficient for her body to drop through. As black ichor sprayed, and the creature howled, Nyx dropped through the space and let herself fall, turning it into a skidding slide down the length of the chute. She glanced up and saw the hole she’d cut grow even bigger as Persephone dropped through the chute behind her.

“I thought you said we wanted to go slowly down this chute,” sent Persephone. “To avoid the pit of demons at the bottom.”

“That was before we had something to feed them!” sent Nyx as she skidded downward. “When you hit the bottom, jump and grab the ceiling as fast as you can!”

The two skidded down the remains of the rock slope, debris and dirt from above raining down on them and the tunneler’s noise drowning out everything else. Nyx risked another glance upward and saw the thing chasing them. More than fifty yards of long, segmented body had already squirmed out of the hole, and it was still coming. Worse, it was moving faster than they were.

Nyx turned her eyes back down the chute. The bottom was racing up at them. It was going to be a near thing, but…

They slid out of the tunnel and into a high-ceilinged cavern. The floor below immediately fell away into a yawning black pit that was filled with millions of foot-long, millipede-like demons.

“Now! JUMP!” screamed Nyx in Persephone’s brain as Nyx pushed off the ground with all her strength and flew upward toward the ceiling. The cavern was huge, and it should have been a simple matter of spreading her wings and flying up, save that every few feet stalactites hung down from the ceiling. Unlike the stalactites of Earth, formed by thousands of years of water carrying limestone and minerals, these ones were the excrescence of thousands of tiny demons that crawled over the roof of the cavern, chewing the rock and shitting it out. They had no desire for flesh, however, and ran from the sound and vibration of Nyx’s clawed fingers digging into the rock. Persephone ricocheted off one of the stalactites, dug her fingers into another, and hurled herself to the ceiling beside Nyx through sheer brute force.

The tunneler came out of the chute, the speed and force of its movement propelling it over the pit below. The demon millipedes swarmed upward, faster than seemed possible. The first ones dug into the flesh they had found with razor-tipped claws and began feasting. The ones behind swarmed over them, moving up the length of the creature’s body. More and more of them kept coming out of the pit, scuttling higher and higher. The tunneler’s noise grew even louder.

“What the Hell do they eat when they don’t have one of those?” asked Persephone in Nyx’s head.

“Each other, as near as I can tell. This way.”

Swinging from stalactite to stalactite like a pair of black, short-armed monkeys, the two Angels traversed the length of the cavern while the demon millipedes continued to swarm out of the hole. Nyx found the tunnel she was looking for on the other side of the cavern. It began as a hole in the ceiling, and she and Persephone crawled up into it. The noise from the tunneler and the feasting demon millipedes immediately faded.

“That was….” Persephone shook her head. “I don’t have words for what that was.”

“I know,” said Nyx.

“At least we don’t have that thing to worry about anymore,” said Persephone.

“We don’t have that one to worry about,” corrected Nyx. “There are others.”

“After this is all done, can I take an extended trip to Earth?” asked Persephone. “Say, in the Greek Islands with pretty boys and girls and no fucking demons?”

“Granted,” said Nyx. “Assuming we survive.”

“Thank you. Where next?”

“One more place to go through,” said Nyx. “Then we can get to the other exit. Assuming we don’t get attacked along the way again.”

“And the chances of not getting attacked?”

“Are very slim,” said Nyx. “If you want to feel better, think about what’s going to happen to whatever’s left of the 666th once Lucifer gets hold of them.”

When Morrigan, Lieutenant of the 666th, emerged from the tunnel in the pit, she sent the Angel watching to entrance to tell Lucifer they had failed, then worked on pulling out the rest of the survivors.

Not one of them came out unscathed. Some emerged as merely heads, carried by their comrades. Even so, they had all come out, and they had managed to inflict enough damage that the creatures had fled from them. Morrigan was pissed off beyond all singing of it.

“Well,” said Mantus, looking at his missing arm. “We’re fucked.”

“Temporarily,” said Morrigan. “Everyone who is able! Get to your fucking feet!”

Three thousand Angels struggled upright.

“Dig me a pit that opens onto that tunnel, then dig a trench to the nearest Hellfire river. I want the place flooded before those bitches escape! Now move it!”

The Angels flew off to do what they’d been told. Morrigan looked over the two thousand, bloodied, broken Angels who lay on the ground. “As you heal, join the crew. I want those fucking tunnels flooded so full that Persephone and Nyx float out.” She sighed. “I’m going to Lucifer. No sense in making him wait.”

“Hope you’re able to sit when you come back,” called Mazur, who was missing both legs and one of his wings.

Morrigan kicked him in the face, then flew off. Given Lucifer’s tastes in torture, Morrigan thought, I won’t be counting on it.

She opened her mind to Hell and found Lucifer. He was in Nyx’s palace, and she winged her way there as quickly as she could, knowing that nothing good was going to come of making him wait longer.

Lucifer was working his way through a line of souls as she came up. From the speed of his decisions and the brutality—even by Lucifer’s standards—of his responses to the souls he judged, Morrigan could tell that Lucifer was very, very angry.

Lying on the floor, twitching and covered in silver ichor were the stomped, slashed, and smashed bits of Morrigan’s messenger. Morrigan swallowed convulsively, then stepped forward into Lucifer’s line of sight.

“Well,” said Lucifer. “Did you suddenly recover your courage and find her?”

“We’re preparing to send one of the Hellfire rivers into the tunnels,” said Morrigan.

Lucifer’s blade came out so fast that Morrigan didn’t have time to move before it sliced through her neck and sent her head flying. She saw her body collapse as her skull hit the wall and bounced off.

“Eat that,” said Lucifer, pointing to Morrigan’s body. A swarm of small demons immediately descended on it, tearing away the flesh and feathers and devouring them with gusto.

“There is an entire world beneath the ground, you stupid bitch,” said Lucifer. “One river isn’t going to fill it. All the Hellfire in Hell won’t fill it.” He stomped over to her. “I’m sending in ten legions this time. And whichever one comes back with Nyx doesn’t get to spend a thousand years in the lake.” He raised his cloven-soled boot high. “Unlike you.”

Then Lucifer’s foot came down hard and everything vanished into darkness and pain.

Nyx, after hours of crawling on her face through tunnels lined with sharp stones and thousands of midge-sized, biting demons that loved the taste of her flesh, pulled herself up to her feet and into a small cavern. A demon—skinny with a dozen leather wings and a long sharp needle of a proboscis—flew at her. Nyx caught it and crushed it in her hand without thinking. Another flew the other way, heading deeper into the cavern. Nyx’s whip came out and chopped it in two before it could get out of range. Then she reached down and helped Persephone to her feet.

Persephone proceeded to slap every midge demon on her body and then send the tips of her whip flying down the tunnel a half-dozen times to kill as many others as she could reach. “I hate bugs! And those things really, really hurt!”

“I was there,” said Nyx. “We need to move fast now.”

“Because we weren’t before.”

“Listen, Persephone,” said Nyx. “We’re nearly at the end. There’s another gate to Earth on the other side of the cavern, but there’s something we have to get past before we get there.”

Persephone frowned. “How bad is it?”

“You know how nothing dies in Hell?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s only true for souls and Angels. Demons can die.”

Persephone thought about it. “Good.”

“Which means they can be born.”

“What?” Persephone looked down the length of the cavern. “We’re going to see a bunch of demons making babies?”

“No,” said Nyx. “There’s only one.”

“Oh.” Persephone wrinkled up her face in disgust. “Is this going to be as awful as I think?”

“Much, much worse,” said Nyx. “So stay close to me, kill anything that attacks you, and stand ready to be eaten at any given moment.”

Persephone sighed. “Always.”

Nyx drew her sword and whip and ran the length of the cavern, Persephone hot on her heels. A thousand creatures of different sizes slithered, crawled, stalked or flew around. A score or more demons attacked, from small, fast, nimble creature the size of dogs to long snake-like things with spiked bodies and jaws that unhinged large enough to swallow either of the Angels whole. Nyx and Persephone hacked, lashed, and stabbed their way through the attackers. As soon as one fell, its brethren descended to eat its flesh, whether it was still alive or not. Nyx and Persephone reached the far end of the cavern where a tall, thin hole in the wall allowed them to squeeze out one at a time and onto a narrow ledge overlooking a massive cavern.

The air was thick with flying demons; the walls crawled with them; and on the floor of the cavern, hundreds of thousands of them milled about. And in the midst of them, quivering and roiling, sat the oversized, oozing, slimy mass of flesh that was the Mother of All Demons.

It had no defined shape, save that it was enormous, rising as high as the cavern itself, and easily a quarter-mile to a side. It was continuously giving birth, and with each birth a part of its body shifted to accommodate. Hundreds of small creatures erupted from its skin every second in little pustules that burst with spurts of viscous liquid before pushing out their contents. Larger creatures came slower, tearing and gouging their way out of their mother’s flesh with teeth and claws, leaving black-bloody rents in her body that healed slowly into a mass of pus-covered scars, only to be ripped open again and again as more of them escaped.

And from below, the greatest of creatures—the tunnelers and other monstrosities—were pushed slowly out of its body like infected, diseased infants rejected by their mother’s flesh.

“That,” said Persephone, “is disgusting. Now what do we do?”

Nyx raised her voice loud enough to shake the entire cavern and shouted, “Mother of All! The Queen of Hell will speak with you!”

Every demon in the place was instantly facing them, some looking with bright, angry eyes, others twisting back and forth, trying to sense her location despite their blindness.

“We’re going to die,” whispered Persephone.

“Probably,” said Nyx. Then she shouted. “Mother of All, do you hear me?!”

“I HEAR YOU.” The voice was loud enough to shake the very walls of the cavern, and sent a shiver through Nyx and Persephone that threatened to knock them both from their narrow perch.

“Fuck. It talks?” Persephone’s mouth fell open with surprise.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT, QUEEN OF EVIL?”

“Passage from this world to the next one, Mother of All.”

The creature made a noise that could have been a laugh or a cry of pain. At its base, the Mother of All disgorged a six-legged thing twice the size of an elephant, with a mouth full of teeth, each as long as a man. “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE, QUEEN OF EVIL.”

“I know,” said Nyx.

“YOU SAID YOU WOULD NOT RETURN.”

“My need is great.”

“I COULD KILL YOU HERE AND NOW.”

“That’s what your predecessor thought,” said Nyx, her voice grim. “Do you remember what happened to her, or has so much time passed that you’ve forgotten?”

There was silence for a time, then, “I REMEMBER.”

“Then you’ll remember that when that happened, I didn’t have anyone with me,” said Nyx. “It was me, alone, and I killed the Mother of All that was here before you. And this time, I have a companion.”

“I HAVE MY CHILDREN HERE.”

“So did she,” said Nyx.

“I CAN DESTROY YOU.”

“I have fought the armies of Heaven and stood unflinching before the face of God, who created us all. Do you really think that you stand a chance?”

The monstrosity was silent, save for the continuous sounds of ripping, pulsing, popping and oozing as it gave birth to more and more creatures. Nyx waited. Yes, she had defeated the previous Mother of All, but it had been sheer luck as much as anything else. And the moment she had killed it, the other demons had descended en masse to feast on its flesh, which had allowed Nyx to escape. While it was likely that the same thing would happen this time, she couldn’t be sure.

“How do we fight this?” asked Persephone in Nyx’s mind. “Assuming it comes to that.”

“We fly down its throat and cut our way into its heart.”

“Ah. Well, as long as it isn’t anything disgusting.”

Nyx flashed a grin in Persephone’s direction, then turned her attention back to the Mother of All and waited.

After an interminable time had passed, the thing said, “YOU MAY PASS.”

“Thank you, Mother of All.”

“BUT KNOW THAT OUR AGREEMENT IS BROKEN AS OF NOW. I AND MINE SHALL HUNT AND KILL YOU WHEREVER WE OUTNUMBER YOU.”

“Wrong,” said Nyx. “We have no agreement. I said I would leave you alone below the ground as long as your demons obeyed my Angels on the surface. And you will continue to do so until I tell you otherwise. Or else I will come back, and I will kill you.”

“UNFAIR!”

“Sucks to be you,” said Nyx. She jumped off the ledge, spread her wings and flew. Persephone followed right behind, and the two winged across the cavern. The flying demons got out of the way. The ones on the walls and floors and ceilings followed her with their eyes or their senses, but not one attempted to attack them. The Mother of All continued erupting with births and quivered as they came near, but said and did nothing.

Directly above the Mother of All was a great hole in the cavern roof. Unlike the Pit, this one did not lead to the surface, only to darkness. Nyx flew up into it and drew her whip. Persephone let her go ahead so she would have enough room. Nyx’s whip leapt up and, with a CRACK louder than the Mother of All’s voice, tore open the gate between Hell and Earth.

“Come,” said Nyx. “Time we saw some sunlight.”

“Damn right,” said Persephone.

Together, the two of them winged up out of the cavern and into the darkness of the portal.

Chapter 7

MOST OF THE time, Michael didn’t think of the Earth, except in passing, or while listening to the stories of the Angels who went there. He had a job to do, and he did it well. He led God’s army, trained them to be the most powerful and dangerous force in God’s universe, and when required, led them into battle. There had been five so far. The first had been against Nyx and her rebel Angels. The next three were against powerful beings that had found the plane where Heaven existed and attempted to enter it. All three had the misfortune to not be God’s immortal and divine creations, and in short order were sent packing with orders not to try it again on pain of extinction. They had all complied. The fifth had not been a species, but a single entity that was nearly as large as the galaxy in which Earth resided. It ate energy, and when it crossed through the planes to Heaven, it had gone straight for God’s mountain. That had taken a bit of work, and the cleanup afterward had been rather impressive.

It had been quiet since then, save for the time one thousand years before, when he’d been sent down to tell Nyx that God was being born of a woman. That had been fun. And thirty-six years later, Tribunal had returned from his journey through the world of men and joined the ranks of Angels. Then God had closed the Gates between Heaven and Earth to the Angels, and Michael had not thought of the Earth since.

Except that he should have.

Three Angels were allowed to be on Earth: Caelum, Orion and Arcana. Caelum and Orion were nice enough, though not too bright and rather full of themselves. But Arcana was Michael’s friend. She had been his lover many times throughout the eons, and they were bound closely together by a love of battle. He had faced her a dozen times in contest and in training, and though she had never bested him, she came closer than any other had, save Nyx.

So while he was not likely to think of Earth, he should have thought about Arcana and wondered how she was doing, how far Caelum and Orion had tested her patience.

One day he found himself thinking of Earth and Arcana and wondering why he hadn’t done so for a thousand years. Then he stopped. He wanted to think of Arcana, of her flowing hair and muscular physique, of her gentle yet fierce nature. But every time he tried to bring her to mind, something stopped him from continuing the thought.

And that disturbed him.

Michael took himself away from the places in Heaven where Angels and souls congregated to a place he favored more than any other.

The mountain was high, though not high at all compared to the mount on which GOD dwelled. It was flat-topped and covered in a lush green forest so thick one couldn’t fly into it. Instead, one had to land on a small clearing near the edge of the mountainside. From there one could see a great portion of Heaven, spread out like a velvety blanket of luscious living green and shining precious metals. There were no castles here, no places where beings declared themselves lords, or considered themselves better than others who lived there—though to be fair, there was a certain amount of amused, benign condescension from the Angels to the souls. The souls were so happy! They never thought of Earth, not after the first year or two, although they seemed genuinely pleased when family and friends arrived. The larger buildings were for community gatherings—concerts, theatre, sporting events, or simple gathering places where people could talk about the pleasures of their days, whatever those pleasures were. Humans, even in soul form, had a gift for pointless chatter.

Michael could also see the many gardens, large and small, that dotted the landscape of Heaven. Angels and souls worked side by side there, nurturing plants taken from Earth, following the cycle of the seasons that existed in the Gardens, if nowhere else in Heaven. It was a place where those whose joy was to grow gardens would supply those whose joy was to cook and those who loved to eat—which was pretty much everyone, including Michael himself. In Heaven, it was the taste of the food, the savoring of the flavors, and the sharing of those flavors in company that brought joy, rather than filling oneself beyond satiation into gluttony as happened on Earth. There were taverns, restaurants, and many other gathering spots just for enjoying food. It was a commonplace to find a few Angels relaxing over bowls of ice cream in pastel colors as others roasted meat that required no slaughter. Child souls played in the grass while their parents relaxed, in the bloom of their youth, the days of vigilance forever over. There was music of all kinds, Angelic and human. Voices and instruments were always in tune, but not all the same. New songs and dances satisfied the need for change. Heaven was as much filled with sensuous pleasure as it was with the greatest pleasure of all—GOD’s presence.

Michael turned his back on the vista and walked deep into the forest. The path was narrow—just wide enough to let one person through at a time. The green canopy closed in above almost at once. The light that came through dappled the forest floor and shimmered as the leaves moved in the gentle, cool breeze that slipped its way between the trees. Michael followed the narrow path to a quiet clearing with a single rock, perfectly shaped for sitting on, in the center. He sat, closed his eyes, and basked in the presence of God.

No matter where one was in Heaven, God was there. Whether one was standing before him on the mountain, or sitting in the farthest reaches of Heaven from that holy place, God was omnipresent, all encompassing, and sending out love and compassion beyond any that one could find anywhere else in God’s very large universe.

Usually it calmed Michael and centered him, bringing whatever was troubling his mind under control. On this day, though, not even that worked.

He had not thought of the Earth in a thousand years.

Then he had thought about it.

Then he hadn’t anymore.

And what was worse, Michael had the sneaking suspicion that, had he not latched onto the idea that he should be thinking more about Arcana, he wouldn’t even have noticed that he wasn’t thinking about Earth again, almost as if something was deliberately driving the thought of that place out of his mind. In fact, even while he was deliberately thinking of Earth, he could feel his mind trying to wander away from it.

Michael’s mind never wandered.

Why? wondered Michael. Why would anyone do that? And who?

There were very few beings powerful enough to control Michael’s thoughts. God could do it, certainly. But this didn’t feel like God. Michael had felt the divine will before. When God directly told you to do or not do something, you had neither doubts nor questions. You just went along.

Nyx might have been able to do it, if she distracted him long enough to sneak inside his head. But Nyx was not allowed into Heaven anymore, and she certainly couldn’t affect Michael from another plane.

But who cares if I’m thinking about the Earth or not?

Unless it’s not just me.

Michael sent out a trio of thoughts and waited.

Azrael, Angel of Death and Release from Suffering, was the first to arrive. He was as tall as Michael, but his opposite in almost every other way save for the thin circle of gold light that floated around his head as around Michael’s; the sign of an Archangel. Where Michael was broad and wide and covered with muscles, Azrael was whipcord thin. Michael’s hair was black, his skin a deep brown; Azrael was pale with hair so white it was nearly translucent. When Michael stepped into a room, everyone, divine or mortal, noticed. Azrael could walk beside you for a day and you wouldn’t notice him, even if you were in the midst of battle. As always, he was in a dark gray robe without armor.

Michael rose and embraced Azrael. “My friend, thank you for coming.”

Azrael embraced him back and smiled. “It’s always good to see you, my friend. And I have to admit, your summons was curious. And vague.”

“Deliberately so,” said Michael. “Can you wait until the others arrive so we may all discuss at once?”

“I have all the time in Heaven,” said Azrael.

“Share the rock?”

They sat side by side, not speaking, until Raphael arrived. He was neither thin nor large, but right in the middle and shorter than the other two. His skin and hair were the deepest black, his eyes brown and lively. Like Azrael, he wore no armor, but his robes were pure white. He was God’s healer and giver of health, and he shone with a vitality that either of the others might have envied, if the idea of envy had ever crossed their minds. Michael and Azrael both embraced and welcomed Raphael, and while they were doing so, Gabriel arrived.

Gabriel was no taller than Raphael, and certainly not as muscular as Michael, but had a barrel chest under his white robes, the better to blow the horn that hung eternally by his side. His hair was blond and his skin light brown, as if recently kissed by the sun. He was God’s messenger.

The four of them were God’s Archangels. It was they to whom God spoke first on all things, and it was they who would be summoned first to carry out his business.

After more embraces and greetings, the four spread out in the clearing so they could see one another. The glow of their halos added a pleasant warmth to the air and light to the grove. “Thank you for coming,” said Michael. “I know I was vague, but I didn’t want to say anything untoward.”

“You really didn’t say anything at all,” said Gabriel. “‘Come, I am troubled’ is hardly a message.”

“But it is interesting,” said Raphael. “So what troubles you?”

“Earth,” said Michael.

“Earth?” Azrael frowned. “Why would Earth be troubling you?”

“Because I haven’t thought about it in a thousand years.”

Raphael opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and looked thoughtful. A moment later he said, “Strange, neither have I.”

“Nor I,” said Gabriel. “Not since the mortal death of God’s Son.”

“Nor I,” said Azrael. “Which is strange. Most of my work was there.”

The four stood in silence, and before long, three of them were frowning.

“I don’t want to think about it,” said Azrael. “And I don’t know why.”

“My mind can’t keep focused on it,” said Raphael.

“Nor mine,” said Gabriel.

Michael nodded. “So it isn’t just me.”

“It doesn’t feel like God’s handiwork,” said Raphael. “More like… someone playing with our minds.”

“And the questions are ‘who?’ and ‘why?’” said Michael. “Thoughts?”

Azrael frowned. “We have been forbidden from going to Earth for a thousand years,” he said. “Could this be part of that?”

“Perhaps,” said Michael. “But by my calculations, the thousand years is over.”

Raphael nodded. “At least twenty years ago, I should think.”

“Should think,” said Azrael sharply. “Why don’t we know?”

“And why has no one asked to go to Earth?” said Gabriel. “It used to be one of the favorite play spots of the Angels.”

“From both sides,” said Gabriel. “You’d think some would be curious what has been happening there.” He reached out his thoughts to the door. “The way is still blocked.”

“Interesting,” said Azrael. “Why?”

“God would have his reasons,” said Raphael, “and we should not question him. If it is God.”

“This doesn’t feel like God,” said Michael. “It feels underhanded.”

The other three Angels nodded.

“A mystery in Heaven,” said Azrael. “Now that is a rare thing, indeed.”

“It is,” said Michael.

“And you have a plan for solving it, of course,” said Gabriel, smiling. Michael always had plans. That was what made him Heaven’s greatest general.

“I do,” said Michael. “Gabriel, would you go speak to God and tell him what we have noticed? If it is his will, then that’s fine and we leave it alone. If not…”

“Then he should know about it,” said Gabriel. “I will.”

“Azrael, would you come with me to the Gates? I want to see if they are truly closed, or just blocked from our minds the way Earth was.” Michael turned to Raphael. “Could you talk to some of the other Angels and see if they have experienced the same?”

“I will.”

“And we will meet here again?”

“After sunset,” said Michael. “When the great music begins.”

Sunset was an event in Heaven, even though there was no sun. The radiant light of God filled and lit Heaven brighter than the sun, but every day it would dim to near darkness. Then, everyone could see the entire universe that God had created. They could hear the music of the spheres as they moved in their orbits. The moons, planets, suns—even the galaxies—all moved with a stately and beautiful music, as much beyond the songs of the Angels as those were beyond the songs of men. This divine music filled Heaven for the duration of the night and whether one chose to sleep or not, utter peace reigned in God’s paradise.

“Until then,” said Gabriel, and he and Raphael went on their way.

“Come,” said Michael to Azrael. “Let’s visit the Gates and look upon the Earth.”

Gabriel took his time going to see God. There was no hurry, as far as he could tell, and it was enjoyable having a mystery to solve. He chatted with folks on the way, talking of their days and plans, which varied just enough to be worth commenting on. He promised to meet some of the Angels before sunset for time together, though with the understanding that he had a place he needed to be after sunset.

Gabriel landed near the foot of the mountain and folded his wings. One did not fly into the presence of God unless it was an emergency, and there were very few emergencies that God did not already know about. Besides, the path was pleasant, and he was in no rush.

God’s mountain was lush and green and very, very high. It took many days to walk the most delightful route, which led through gardens both wild and tamed, full of the buzzing of bees and the cries of birds, the startled blinks of deer and the slinking grace of leopards—none of whom ever died nor ended their hunt. The path led over bridges and up the side of the mountain, presenting spectacular views to all who chose to walk up. Taking in the beauty of Heaven helped calm and prepare the mind for being in God’s presence, which was important if one was a soul. For an Angel, it was a chance to clear one’s mind and put one’s thoughts in order. And while Gabriel loved to do so, he had agreed to report back for sunset, and that meant taking the fast way.

For a short while Gabriel joined the line of souls and Angels walking the path. They went through the first grove of pleasantly scented trees and flowers and across a bridge over a small stream that burbled across gleaming rocks. Shining trout leaped in the water and wading birds tilted their small heads, tracking the progress of the prey they would never eat—though Gabriel sometimes thought they believed they were eating. God was very subtle in how he removed death from this tapestry of Creation and even his archangels did not question how he did it.

On the other side was a grove of sycamore trees in full bloom, and behind the grove were the stairs.

The stairs were very long and very steep, and had no handrails. Made of a stone harder than any on Earth, they were buffeted by winds and often shrouded in clouds. It was the path that the Angels took when they needed to speak to God quickly. Gabriel, feeling quite good, took the stairs two at a time.

Halfway up, Tribunal was standing on the stairs. Gabriel slowed his pace and put on a smile. “Tribunal. So good to see you. How are you?”

“Very well,” said Tribunal. “What brings you up the stairs?”

“A question for God,” said Gabriel.

Tribunal smiled. “Then ask it.”

Gabriel smiled back. “It is a question for God.”

“And I am God, am I not?” Power resounded in his words.

“You are God’s Son.”

“Who is God’s Self,” said Tribunal. “All that is in God is in me.”

“I believe,” said Gabriel, “that all that is in you is in God.”

“What is your question?”

There was something in Tribunal’s tone that Gabriel could not quite place. He had heard a tone like it before, but not in a very long time. It was not a tone that one often heard in Heaven. It was… impatience?

Gabriel did not know Tribunal very well, which was odd. One could look at most beings in Heaven after a thousand years and say, “This is what I know of this person.” But Tribunal was different. He did not walk through Heaven or fly to the many beautiful places that were there. He never took refuge in the contemplative spaces, nor saw any of the concerts, nor joined with others in any of the gatherings. He, who had died for mankind, never chatted with souls or showed any curiosity about them, Instead, he had spent most of his time sitting on his Father’s mountain, bathing in his Father’s light and power. In fact, Gabriel could not remember a time when Tribunal was not on the mountain.

Or can I?

The thought was fleeting. Then Tribunal’s power came crushing down on Gabriel’s mind, quick and heavy and unstoppable. For a moment the force of it threatened to send Gabriel tumbling back down the stairs.

Gabriel blinked. Tribunal was standing before him, smiling. “What do you seek to ask God?”

It’s a reasonable question, thought Gabriel. “We would like to know why we do not think of Earth anymore.”

“That is easy,” said Tribunal. “God has plans for Earth that he does not wish to share, and to keep the Angels here from being distracted, he has driven it from their minds.”

“Of course,” said Gabriel. “That makes perfect sense.”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, Tribunal. Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

Gabriel turned and went down the stairs smiling. He had his answer and would give it to Michael that night.

Michael and Azrael approached the Gates of Heaven. A steady stream of souls flowed toward the Gates from the outside. Angels stood on either side of the Gates, welcoming and comforting those who arrived. Most were happy to be there; some were surprised. Others, especially the young ones, were terribly upset, their minds still clinging to how they had died and whom they had left behind. Those, the Angels would gather into their arms and hold and comfort before bringing into Heaven. They would sing songs of their own composition, and gradually the souls’ faces would relax and the hunger for paradise light their eyes. Once a soul crossed the threshold, the pain and worries and fears of their earthly lives would fade into nothing. It would remember its loved ones, be they parents, children, family or lovers, with fondness and joy, all quarrels forgotten, so that when they arrived their reunion would be joyous, no matter what had happened in their lives on Earth after the soul’s death.

Michael and Azrael smiled at the souls coming in, and nodded greetings to the Angels at the Gate as they stepped beyond the threshold. It was a short walk to the edge of Heaven, where one could look down and see the Earth below.

“I don’t want to be here,” said Azrael. “Interesting.”

“Me, either,” said Michael. “I want to go back into Heaven and forget all about this. It’s almost…painful. Why do you suppose that is?”

“I have no idea,” said Azrael. “But I think it means we should go closer to the Gate, don’t you?”

Together they walked toward the edge of Heaven, and with each step their feet grew heavier, and their minds were filled with more foreboding. They were nearly at the point where they could see over the edge when they both stopped.

“I can’t walk any farther,” said Michael. “You?”

“No.”

“Can you fly?”

“No,” said Azrael.

“Interesting,” said Michael. “Let’s go back and see what Gabriel and Raphael have to say, shall we?”

“A very good idea,” said Azrael.

Together, God’s Warrior and the Angel of Death retreated from the edge of Heaven.

The sky dimmed, leaving the grove in near-darkness. Above, the music of the spheres was haunting and stately and so beautiful it could, if one listened close bring one to tears.

Michael and Azrael were first at the grove, with Raphael only a few moments behind. Gabriel did not arrive until near midnight.

“At last,” said Michael. “Where have you been, my friend?”

“Apologies,” said Gabriel. “This nearly slipped my mind entirely.”

“Indeed?” said Azrael. “Because it is about Earth?”

“That would make sense,” said Gabriel. “I only remembered because Arkial asked after Michael.” He shook his head, bemused. “Either way, I found out that it is God who is turning our minds away from Earth. He has plans there he does not wish to share.”

“You found out?” repeated Raphael, his eyebrows going up. “God didn’t tell you himself?”

“No,” said Azrael. “But Tribunal, who is God’s Self…”

“You mean God’s Son,” said Michael.

“And God’s Self,” said Gabriel. “He told me of God’s plans.”

“If God doesn’t wish to share,” said Azrael, “why would Tribunal share it with you?”

Gabriel frowned. For the first time in a very, very long time a new feeling crept into his mind. He looked at the others and could see they were feeling it, too. It was something very rare in Heaven. Rarer even than Tribunal’s impatience.

Doubt.

“Raphael,” said Michael. “What did you find out?”

“It isn’t just us,” said Raphael. “I went among the Angels who love to visit Earth and tell stories of the things they have seen there. None of them have thought of Earth in a thousand years.”

“Not since Tribunal came back,” said Michael.

“Exactly,” said Raphael. “Save for a short period of time a short while ago.”

“Eleven weeks?” guessed Michael.

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

Michael frowned. “Why?”

“God was distracted?” suggested Azrael, smiling. All three of the Angels smiled back, knowing he was joking. There were certainly times when it appeared God wasn’t paying attention, but God was never truly distracted. He could, when asked, tell you exactly what had happened anywhere in the universe at any time of the day, from the movements of the smallest ant to the explosion of the largest supernova in the sky.

“So if God is behind this,” said Raphael slowly, “he let everyone think of Earth for one moment of one day, then took it all away, but not so well as to take away the fact that we noticed it.”

There was silence around the table. Then Michael stood up. “I think I shall talk to God.”

“A very good idea,” said Azrael. “I will do the same. You take the stairs, I’ll take the path.”

“Gabriel, Raphael,” said Michael. “Can you find out what was different in Heaven on the day that we all remembered Earth?”

The other Angels nodded.

“I think we should go now,” said Azrael. “And I think we should go quickly.”

“I think you are right,” said Michael. “I will meet you all in the Greenfields eating room tomorrow at midday. Keep it in your mind. We are meeting at midday to taste the new crops.”

The other Angels agreed and stepped out into the night.

At midday the next day, Michael and Azrael sat in the Greenfields eating room and looked at one another, puzzled.

“I know we were meeting here,” said Azrael. “And I know there was a reason, but for the life of me I cannot remember what that reason was.”

“Neither can I,” said Michael. “And given that neither of us forgets anything, ever, I find that very strange.”

They were still frowning at one another as Raphael and Gabriel arrived and sat at the table. Azrael leaned in close. “You were right,” he said. “Something was different.”

“Right about what?” asked Michael. “What are you talking about?”

Azrael and Raphael exchanged looks of concern. Raphael said, “After we eat I would like to talk to both of you.”

The food was excellent. The chef was from Japan and had a way of blending rice, avocado and cucumbers with spices that delighted the Angels’ palates. Michael and Azrael talked happily about the food for most of the flight to the grove. Raphael and Gabriel kept silent until they were all in the grove and Raphael asked Michael and Azrael to sit on the stone. Then Raphael put his hands on Michael’s head and closed his eyes.

“It’s there,” he said. “Just like with you, Gabriel. Hold on a moment.”

Few pains were enough to make the Angel of Battle cry out, so when Michael actually yelped, Azrael’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Michael fell forward from the waist, catching his head in his hands and resting them on his knees. When he sat up, he was blinking madly, as if trying to clear a storm of dust from his eyes.

“Are you all right?” asked Raphael.

“No,” said Michael, and the fury in his voice was unmistakable. “I am not all right. Do Azrael.”

Azrael actually screamed in pain, the noise of it echoing through the little glade and the forest around them. The trees absorbed it so none of his scream left the mountaintop, but all four of the Angels looked nervously around and listened for sounds of anyone coming before speaking again.

“He played with my memory,” said Azrael. “Tribunal played with my mind.”

“Yes,” said Michael. “Why?”

“To make us not ask about Earth,” said Raphael. “To keep our minds from going there.”

“Agreed,” said Gabriel. “Why?”

“Because he’s hiding something,” said Azrael. “What is he hiding?”

“I don’t know,” said Raphael. “But I do know what changed during the time when we all remembered the Earth.”

“What?”

“Tribunal wasn’t in Heaven.”

“What?” Surprise filled Michael’s voice. “How do you know?”

“Because we sat down and went back through our memories of that time to see whose presence we could not feel,” said Gabriel. “Tribunal was the only one not here.”

Azrael frowned, the expression changing his mainly pleasant face to fearsome. “Where did he go?”

“Not to Earth,” said Raphael. “Or to any of the other planes open to Angels.”

Azrael’s expression grew darker. “There’s only one plane that isn’t open to Angels.”

“I know,” said Raphael. “So what does the Son of God want in Hell?”

Michael nodded. “And why doesn’t he want his Father knowing about it?”

“And how does he keep his Father from finding out?” put in Azrael. “God sees everything.”

“But he doesn’t always notice things,” said Gabriel. “If you ask him, he’ll be able to tell you what happened, but it doesn’t mean he was watching it at the time.”

It was Michael’s turn to frown. “Does he have enough power to make God look the other direction?”

“I don’t know,” said Raphael. “I don’t know how much power he has.”

Azrael stood and began pacing the length of the clearing. “Let us assume his power is an order of magnitude as great above ours as ours is above mortals in their human form.”

“More,” said Michael. “He has the power to turn all the eyes in Heaven away from what he is doing. And to keep God distracted as well.”

“So how do we find out what he is doing?” Azrael reached the edge of the clearing, turned and paced back. “How do we stop someone who can distract God?”

“We can’t,” said Michael.

“Then who can?”

“God,” said Michael. “We just have to reach him.”

“And how, exactly, do we do that?” asked Gabriel.

“I can think offhand of two things that might work,” said Michael. “First is, we wait until Tribunal goes away again, then we get to God before he comes back.”

“Which may be a long, long wait,” said Azrael, still pacing the clearing. “And if he already has plans in motion, it may be too late to stop them by the time we see God. Choice two?”

“We take the block off of everyone’s minds,” said Michael. “We spread the word of what is going on, and we get everyone to fly to the mountain to tell God. Tribunal can’t stop us all.”

“You hope,” said Azrael.

“I hope,” admitted Michael. “Thoughts?”

“I can teach you how to remove the block,” said Raphael. “If we free the other Angels and teach them how to do the same, our numbers can increase exponentially instead of arithmetically.”

“Good idea.” Michael surveyed the other Angels and saw the grimness he felt reflected in their faces. “I suggest we begin with the strongest.”

“Agreed,” said Azrael. “And let us hope he doesn’t notice long enough for us to reach God.” Azrael stopped pacing and looked off into the distance. “I wonder what is going on on Earth, anyway?”

Arcana was eating breakfast with a trio of young prostitutes in a Florentine brothel, listening to the stories of how they ended up there, when she first felt the change. Her eyes went at once to the window, though of course there was nothing to be seen. She closed her eyes, listening around the world to see if she could detect where it was coming from.

“Hey.” One of the girls touched her arm. “Are you all right?”

“I am…” There! “Fine,” said Arcana, rising to her feet. “I am just fine.” She tossed a purse of gold on the table. “Take yourselves out of here. Build a home for yourselves.”

She walked out of the brothel, ignoring the girls’ cries of thanks. Her eyes, ears, and mind were all tuned to one thing only.

I can feel you, Nyx. And I am coming for you!

Chapter 8

THE LAST PART of the journey out of Hell was the most difficult. It was a brutal climb up sheer cliffs against forces so strong flying wouldn’t work in spite of all the strength of the Angels’ wings. Worse, a single slip would send an Angel hurling back down to where the gate opened, which for Nyx and Persephone meant a pretty certain devouring by the Mother of Demons.

Of course, compared to everything else that has happened, thought Nyx as they clawed their way up the cliffs, this really hasn’t been that bad.

Above them the earth stirred and shook, and a hole opened in the world, sending sand and rocks to pummel down on them. Nyx and Persephone crushed themselves against the cliff until the portal finished opening, then climbed up once more.

“At least this time I don’t have to shove Ishtar’s fat ass up the damn portal,” grunted Persephone as she hauled her way up the jagged rock of the earth toward the sunlight. “Where does this one come out?”

“Wherever I want it to,” said Nyx. She pulled herself up the rocks, the power of Epiphenia that coursed through her making the climb easy.

“And where do you want it to come through?”

“Someplace nice,” said Nyx. “I want some sunshine to plot my revenge in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Nyx topped the cliff and pulled herself onto the surface of the Earth.

The sun was indeed shining. And all around them was green, lush jungle that sang with life. The air was humid and loud with the buzz of insects. Persephone pulled herself out of the hole. It began to fill at once, until it had vanished entirely, replaced with only a small, burned patch of ground, ten feet wide. Nothing would grow there for at least a hundred years, Nyx knew. Then new earth would cover the old, new seeds would sprout, and new life would bloom over the dead ground below.

“That way,” said Nyx, pointing to a spot where the jungle thinned and blue water shone. Persephone yelped in joy and ran through the woods. Nyx grinned and watched her go. A moment later she heard Persephone splashing into the water.

Nyx let her armor fade to nothing as she walked through the jungle, inhaling all the scents and gorging her eyes on the colors and the light. She could feel the life all around her, could sense it, from the smallest insect in the air to the largest whale in the ocean. She could feel the soft plants bending beneath her bare feet as she strode through the jungle, then the coarse grains of the sand and the sharp edges of shells on the shore. Then she was in the water, and the coolness of it enveloped her like a blanket, washing away the dirt and grime and gore of Hell. She walked in until she was immersed, her hair floating around her in a halo of white and green. She began swimming, twisting in the water and letting the last of Hell wash from her.

Persephone swam up underneath Nyx, wrapped her in her arms and kissed her deeply. Together they breached the surface of the sea.

“We have things to do,” said Nyx as Persephone closed in for another kiss.

“They can wait,” said Persephone. “Please.”

Nyx tried to protest, but Persephone’s body against hers was a very powerful argument in the other direction. She kissed Persephone again, and together the two sculled their way to the shallows until they touched land. They laughed as they crawled out of the ocean to the dry sand, still kissing. At last they reached a flat spot. Persephone waved a hand and the sand flew from Nyx’s body and her own. She kissed Nyx on the lips, then the neck, and began working her way down. Nyx sighed in pleasure and lay back against the hot sand. She closed her eyes and felt the sun shining through her eyelids. Persephone kissed her breasts and Nyx moaned in pleasure. Her head turned and her cheek touched the sand.

Pain.

Blinding white pain that drove everything else away. Nyx screamed, her body convulsing and her cheek stuck hard against the sand.

Lucifer opened the door to the blade room and looked inside. In the middle of the floor, bloody and bleeding, lay Ishtar.

“Crawl to me, bitch,” said Lucifer.

Ishtar pulled herself onto her hands and knees, ignoring the pain as one of the spinning blades hacked through her side. Another one sheared off part of her wing. She moved forward anyway. Half a hundred blades cut into her as she crawled across the floor. Silver blood, guts, bone, and feathers sprayed through the room. Lucifer watched with a smile. He blocked the doorway so she could not cross the threshold to escape the blades that ripped into her. Ishtar went forward until she was on her knees in front of him, blades spinning and hacking into her from all sides.

“Beg,” said Lucifer.

For a reply, Ishtar knelt up, opened the black pants he wore, and took him into her mouth. Lucifer moaned. “This will not earn you forgiveness,” he said, though he didn’t move.

Ishtar replaced her mouth with her hand and leaned back so she could look in Lucifer’s eyes, ignoring the blades that hacked into her back. “I’m not asking for forgiveness,” she said. “I did what I was asked, I did it well, and I did it right. I didn’t know that Nyx knew another way out, and I didn’t know that she would escape your legions.” She put her mouth back to work.

“So you say,” said Lucifer. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“My mind is open to you, Dread Lord,” Ishtar sent. “Look and see for yourself.”

Lucifer did, peeling through the layers of her mind with no more gentleness than Tribunal had shown him. Ishtar let him through, let him pull the sections of her mind apart, and never stopped what she was doing. Lucifer moaned again, but kept searching. When he was finished, he was certain that she had not betrayed him. He let her keep going until Ishtar, wondering what was to be her fate, replaced her mouth with her hand again and asked, “Now what?”

“Now?” said Lucifer. He grabbed her hair, pulled her up to her feet. “Now I have to tell Tribunal that Nyx is no longer in Hell.” He spun her around, grabbed her waist with one hand and shoved her face into the blades with the other. Ishtar forced herself not to scream as the blades cut into her face, popping open one of her eyes and ripping out a dozen teeth in a spray of blood and gore. “And assuming I live through that,” said Lucifer as he started fucking her, “we’re going hunting.”

A small, red shrike flew through Shiloh, the gray nothingness of the unbelievers. It was a place where God didn’t listen or see, but where Tribunal kept a presence.

Tribunal’s true self was in Heaven, sitting at the feet of God, learning all he could and steadily growing in power. Most of that power was dedicated to feeding God an illusion of what was happening on the Earth. A second part of it was aimed across Heaven, keeping thoughts of Earth out of the minds of Angels and souls alike. Another part blocked the doors of Heaven and Hell from Angelic view from Earth, so that, should any choose to venture there despite the blocks Tribunal had put on their minds, they would not be able to get back.

But a small part of himself was here, in Shiloh, listening for messages from Lucifer. So when the small, red shrike arrived, he was there and waiting. He listened to Lucifer’s message, and fury grew inside of him. The bird exploded into a red mist. The soul within it fell into Shiloh, where it would wander for all eternity.

On the mountain, sitting at God’s feet, Tribunal gathered himself together and wound an illusion of his presence throughout Heaven. No one would notice he was gone because no one, not even God, would be thinking to look for his presence. As far as they knew, he was there, sitting at God’s feet.

Tribunal rose and, with a thought, disappeared from Heaven.

“Nyx? Nyx!” Persephone shouted as Nyx convulsed on the beach.

Nyx, beyond her senses, could only scream in agony. The life essence of Epiphenia slowly slid out of her body in a stream of glittering green that spread over the earth. The sand beneath Nyx’s head turned into a verdant circle of plants that spread slowly outward as Epiphenia’s essence left Nyx’s body.

“Fuck,” said Persephone. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” There was absolutely nothing she could do to stop the green from sliding back into the earth. And that meant there was nothing she could do to stop the wrenching agony that was ripping through Nyx’s body.

There was a whistling noise above, and Persephone’s eyes snapped up. It wasn’t the same noise they had heard in Hell when Lucifer dropped the mountaintop on them. This was the sound of wind through the feathers of Angels’ wings as they dove down toward Earth.

They can’t have followed us from Hell yet, Persephone thought. She craned her neck to see and spread her senses wide.

I hope it’s Ishtar, Persephone thought. I would love to gut that bitch a few hundred times.

Oh, crap.

Persephone launched herself into the air, her sword and whip springing into her hands as Arcana, her white armor gleaming, and her sword flaming with all the power of Heaven, dove down on top of her. Persephone lashed her whip upward. Arcana knocked it aside and slammed into Persephone in a single motion, driving them both to the earth. They hit hard, scattering sand and shells high into the air and all over the writhing Nyx.

Persephone slashed out with claws, teeth, and spiked heels to force Arcana away. Arcana rolled gracefully to her feet and cut open the side of Persephone’s face with her sword. Persephone swore and narrowly dodged Arcana’s boot as the other Angel flew into the air and kicked at her head.

“What the fuck is your problem?” screamed Persephone as she launched herself after Arcana. She lashed out with the whip, aiming to capture Arcana’s wing, but only tearing off a few feathers. Arcana came in again, and the two Angels spun upward in a deadly spiral, blades flashing back and forth as each sought to pierce the other’s armor. “We didn’t do anything!”

“You betrayed God!” snapped Arcana. The point of her sword slipped forward and nearly pierced Persephone’s eye. Persephone slammed it out of the way and then had to quickly block as Arcana spun the blade and hacked at Persephone’s head.

“That was eons ago!” Persephone said. “Give it a rest!” Persephone launched a compound attack, feinting with her blade, snapping her whip at Arcana’s face and, when Arcana blocked the whip with her sword, thrusting hard at Arcana’s belly. Arcana parried it and flew backward out of range.

“You’re not going to take me, bitch,” said Persephone, grinning. “I’m the best fighter in the 666th.”

“Really?” said Arcana. She drove in again, dodging the whip that snapped out for her eyes, spinning around Persephone’s thrust to her stomach, and hacking deep into Persephone’s shoulder as she flew above and past her. Persephone’s whip dropped from nerveless fingers to the ground.

Fuck! Persephone flew up and away, willing her arm to heal quickly. Arcana came up fast beneath her, and once more they exchanged a dozen cuts and thrusts with their blades before breaking apart and circling wide. Persephone’s shoulder was healing, but spatters of silver ichor covered Arcana’s armor, and Persephone could still feel the weakness in her arm. I need to end this.

Persephone drove forward to Arcana again, and once more Arcana’s blade met hers in a blur of Angelic steel. Persephone nearly scored on Arcana’s face, then her arm, then her stomach, but each time Arcana flicked the blade away at the last moment and forced Persephone back.

Bitch is good, thought Persephone as she barely avoided a thrust that would have skewered her.

“The ‘bitch’ trains with Michael,” came Arcana’s voice in Persephone’s head. Arcana’s blade flashed out low, then high, forcing Persephone to an awkward parry that twisted her in the air. Arcana’s sword spun and hacked through Persephone’s wing. Persephone cried out and began spiraling awkwardly down. Arcana pursued, slashing her another dozen times. Massive wounds opened in Persephone’s legs, belly and back. One of Persephone’s arms flew off in a spray of silver. Her other wing followed. The spiral became a plummet.

Persephone hit the ground hard. A fraction of a second later Arcana’s boot heels, square and solid and Angelic steel, slammed into Persephone’s body, breaking her spine in half and driving her deep into the earth. Persephone struggled to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her commands. Arcana stepped out of the hole she’d made with Persephone’s body and raised her sword. “May God forgive you.”

The black lash of Nyx’s whip slashed open Arcana’s face. Arcana staggered back in surprise.

Nyx pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling with the effort. “Arcana,” she said. “We need to talk.”

“No,” said Arcana, leveling her sword at Nyx. “You need to die.”

Raphael opened his eyes and called to his brethren. He’s gone!

A moment later, Michael, Azrael, and Gabriel were all flying at top speed from their places to God’s mountain. And there was no question of not flying. This was an emergency; even God would believe it to be so.

Raphael stayed where he was in the glade on top of the mountain. Since their discovery of Tribunal’s behavior, the Archangels took turns sitting there, listening to all that was happening in Heaven. They could feel every soul, every Angel, and even every plant that grew in the gardens. Most important, though, they could feel Tribunal, and since they were only listening, and listening to everything, Tribunal would not notice them unless he was actively looking. And given that he was investing his energy in fooling all of Heaven and distracting God, there was a good chance he would not be actively looking for them.

Godspeed, brothers, sent Raphael.

If they could reach God, they could find out what Tribunal was doing, and hopefully put a stop to it.

In Hell, Lucifer and his legions stood ready on the shore of the Lake of Fire. Every Angel he trusted from the 666th was armed and armored and ready to fly and crawl their way up to Earth. Lucifer himself hovered in the air, his big wings spread wide to catch the hot air currents from the Lake. Below him flew his closest captains, Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth.

And with them flew Ishtar.

She had not expected Lucifer to let her take her rightful place—at least, she thought it was her rightful place—as one of his captains just yet. Not that she trusted Lucifer, or that Lucifer fully trusted her. But as soon as Nyx had been defeated, Ishtar had sworn her loyalty to Lucifer. She had meant it, too. She was tired of Earth, tired of trying to defeat God. And now that God’s Son wasn’t even on their side anymore, there was no hope of any sort of victory working with Nyx.

Even before Epiphenia was born, Ishtar had suspected Nyx was weakening. And once the Angel was born Ishtar knew Nyx was fucked. Because she thinks like a… like a mother, Ishtar realized with disgust. Not a fierce warrior or the Queen of Hell, but a common mother. Now, it was just a matter of time before someone—Lucifer, Tribunal, or God—destroyed Nyx. Ishtar didn’t care.

It had taken ten years of torture and abuse before Lucifer set her free. Seven years of Hellfire and broken bones and torn-off skin and gouged-out eyes before he began to trust her. Three more years of being his slave before he’d allowed her to walk free again. She’d opened her mind to his a dozen times and let him rummage around inside it as if it were his personal toy chest. He’d learned everything he could about Nyx and every other Angel that Ishtar knew.

He’d celebrated her return to the fold by making her a Lieutenant for the 666th legion, in charge of a company of one hundred. Then he’d bent her over and fucked her in front of them all, just to remind her who was in charge.

She’d had him regularly and often since then, and vice versa. And when he came to her and told her Nyx had escaped, it had been Ishtar’s idea to use herself as bait.

It had been Lucifer’s idea to impale Ishtar on the pole. She hadn’t been too thrilled about that.

And now as she watched, she wondered what it would take to replace him.

Nyx isn’t here and will never be here again, so why shouldn’t I take over Hell? I’m the only one who wants it.

As Lucifer spoke, his voice rolled through Hell, echoing through every crevice, cave, and building, and booming over the plains where the tortured lay in their millions. Those who had enough sense left to hear his words could only wonder at them.

“The time is upon us!” Lucifer said. “We are ready to emerge from the darkness and take our true place in Paradise!”

The Legions cheered. A hundred thousand Angels roared out their approval.

“No longer will we have to listen to God’s edicts or cower here in Hell while his Angels feel the joy of Heaven! Soon, we will rise up, destroy the humans, and take their world for our own!”

Lucifer had just opened his mouth to speak again when a brilliant, blinding white light, filled with heat and power, smashed down from above.

Arcana had fought with Michael hundreds of times, from gentle sparring matches to all-out battles to see who was the best. A few times she had cut him; once she had knocked him off balance. She was, in truth, a better fighter than ninety-nine percent of the Angels.

So was Nyx.

They spiraled up and down, using gravity to their advantage and their opponent’s confusion. They fought through the jungles, taking advantage of the narrowness of the space to keep the other from flying. They fought in the ocean to slow the other down in the hopes of scoring a hit.

Nyx’s sword and whip flashed faster than human eyes could have seen. Arcana’s blade moved almost with a mind of its own and at a terrible speed. Each of them cut the other half a hundred times as they sought for the opening that would end the fight.

And throughout it all, Nyx kept telling Arcana to stop and talk to her.

Arcana, blinded by fear of the destruction of God’s Creation and angry beyond measure at being denied Heaven, didn’t listen.

Lucifer smashed down from the sky into the Lake of Fire. The Hellfire that should have engulfed him burned away under the power of the beam of light that tore through Lucifer’s flesh, flaying away skin and muscle from his torso, but leaving his lungs and organs in place and his head untouched so that he could still scream.

And Lucifer did scream, longer and louder than any of the damned had ever screamed in Hell.

“You have failed me!” Tribunal’s voice roared through Hell, louder than Lucifer’s had ever been. “All you had to do was contain Nyx long enough for me to complete my tasks, and you failed me!”

Lucifer tried to beg forgiveness, tried to explain that he was sending his legions to get her and end this mess, but could form no words through his pain. All he could do was scream and scream and scream.

“You will not all go to Earth,” said Tribunal to the Legions of Hell. “Not yet. The time is not right. You will select fifty of your best fighters, and they will go to Earth. They will hunt down Nyx, and they will destroy her! Any that fail will be obliterated.”

Tribunal turned his attention back to Lucifer. “You will not be among them.”

Shackles grew out of the dry bed of the Lake of Fire, made of some substance harder than Hellstone or Angelic steel. They locked around Lucifer’s arms, legs, and wings and pulled him face down onto the bottom of the lake.

“Do not fail me again.”

The light vanished. The darkness of Hell had never seemed so black before. The Lake of Fire, no longer driven back, filled in, covering Lucifer’s broken, screaming form.

Well, thought Ishtar as she and the other officers stared at one another. I guess Lucifer’s not in charge now. Before any of the others could think to speak, Ishtar said, “So, who are our best killers?”

High in the air, Nyx and Arcana battled back and forth. Blades, whip, wings, feet, hands, and teeth all came into the fight, but neither of the Angels could win a decisive advantage over the other.

I don’t have time for this! Nyx increased the pace of her attacks, hoping to break through Arcana’s guard.

The last time the two of them had fought was when they were both soldiers in God’s army. They’d been evenly matched then, and both had been practicing in the eons since.

I can’t spend a hundred years fighting her! I have to stop Tribunal!

Far below, on the beach of the small island in the Pacific, the patch of green that was Epiphenia’s essence began to stir.

Gabriel was the fastest of them, and he was nearly at God’s mountain when he heard Raphael’s frantic call, He’s back! Get away!

Gabriel hesitated an instant, wanting to continue on, but wisdom prevailed. He banked straight up and let his speed slowly fade as Heaven’s gravity caught him and began pulling down. He shifted his direction and began the long, slow backstroke that would take him to the glade. It had been so long since he felt frustration, even longer since he felt fear. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Tribunal, though he thought perhaps he should be. The fear was worse than that. Never before had Gabriel been denied God’s presence, and though he could feel the divine love embracing him, there was a definite loneliness and longing taking root in his heart.

How do they endure it in Hell? he wondered, as he had before.

The others arrived first, winging in below Gabriel and stepping into the peaceful quiet of the forest glade. Gabriel landed behind them and walked in, happier to see them than he had ever been before. Michael and Azrael looked chagrined. Raphael just looked sad.

He should not be sad. I should not feel fear. This is wrong.

“You came very close,” said Raphael. “Even though you were the farthest away.”

“I’m God’s messenger,” said Gabriel. “It’s my job to be fast. Not fast enough, apparently.” He heard the hint of bitterness in his voice and was shocked anew.

“I cannot think that this is a situation God foresaw,” said Raphael. “So now what?”

“Now, we continue with the original plan,” said Michael, his voice steady. “We wake every Angel in Heaven to what Tribunal has done to us. Then we march on the mountain and try to see God. With luck, Tribunal won’t be able to stop us all.”

“I dislike trusting to luck,” said Raphael. “But I think that is our best option right now.”

“I, too,” said Azrael. “Though I feel we must hurry.”

“So do I,” said Michael. “So do I, my brothers. Before the traitor finishes whatever it is he’s planning.” They all lowered their eyes with an emotion Gabriel couldn’t have named, though he knew it, too, had no place in Heaven.

Nyx and Arcana fought their way down from the sky to the earth, driving one another lower and lower until they stood on the rough rock that topped the little Pacific island. Neither had gained an advantage, nor had either scored a blow that hadn’t healed before the next one broke through the other’s guard.

Neither was tired, either.

Nyx’s whip cracked out in a circle, trying for Arcana’s wings or eyes. Arcana slipped past it with ease and clashed blade on blade against Nyx. In a fraction of a second, they exchanged a dozen cuts, parries, and thrusts, then broke apart, facing one another. Both tensed and then launched themselves upward to fight once more in the air.

Neither got more than a foot above the Earth before they were yanked hard down. The suddenness of the change had them staring at one another in shock, then looking down.

Vines of rock had grown out of the ground and wrapped themselves around each fighter’s ankles. In the moment it took each to realize it, the vines spun up both their legs and squeezed. Arcana’s sword flashed down. It should have severed the rock—nothing on Earth was as strong as Angelic steel. But the rock vines were moving so fast that the cut became a long scar that healed near-instantaneously.

Nyx and Arcana both fought against the vines, but they were faster and stronger than either of the Angels, and soon both were wrapped foot to neck in them, with only their heads free. The vines twisted until the two were face-to-face. Arcana was still struggling to break free. Nyx could see the effort in her face.

There was a flapping of wings, and Epiphenia rose out of the forest below.

Her skin had been white, before. Now, she carried faint lines of green through her body that shone the way it had shone when it was inside of Nyx. Her hair was still flaming red and went halfway down her back. She wore armor of deep green and brown that grew around her like vines and was patterned with leaves: oak, maple, ginkgo, baobab and palm. The blade in her hand was straight and strong and glowed with a green fire.

She flew easily up between the two Angels and hovered in the air, her wings moving only the slightest bit necessary to keep her where she was. She smiled at Nyx. “Hello, Mother.”

Nyx found herself smiling back, feeling a pride that was disorienting because it had nothing to do with her own powers. It was humbling, in a way, yet also made her feel stronger. “Hello, Epiphenia.”

“Mother?” Arcana practically choked on the word. “How can you be a mother? What is that thing? What have you done?”

“She made me,” said Epiphenia. “With the power given to her by Tribunal.”

“Why?” demanded Arcana. “What does Nyx want you for? So she can use you to destroy the world the way she’s using Tribunal?”

“I didn’t use Tribunal,” spat Nyx. “That bastard used me! He’s pissed at God for making him just to be killed, and now he’s trying to destroy everything!”

“Liar!” hissed Arcana.

“Epiphenia is my daughter,” said Nyx. “She has you trapped. Why would I lie?”

“Actually,” said Epiphenia in her melodious voice, “I have you both trapped. And now we will all go to the beach.”

The vines twisted and turned, moving through the earth as if it were water, carrying both Angels down from the cliff to the beach below.

Chapter 9

NYX QUIETLY TESTED the strength of the vines all the way down to the beach. They didn’t budge an inch, and her claws couldn’t even scratch them. She settled for fuming the rest of the way down. “We are going to have a talk about this when we are done,” she sent to Epiphenia.

“Now, Mother,” Epiphenia sent back. “I have to look unbiased or Arcana will believe I’m siding with you and Tribunal.”

“I’m not siding with Tribunal!”

“And we have to convince Arcana of that,” Epiphenia sent. “Trust me, Mother.”

She looked over her shoulder at the pair of Angels and smiled. “We’re nearly there.”

Arcana growled something under her breath. Nyx just glared. She had to admit that Epiphenia had a point, and she did trust her, but she didn’t have to be happy about it.

The jungle parted, and Epiphenia stepped out onto the sand of the beach. Persephone was there, healed and furious. She lunged at Epiphenia as she went past, and fell flat. Persephone’s ankle was tied to the ground by one of the stone vines that held Nyx and Arcana.

“Now,” said Epiphenia, her voice sweet and gentle. “We will sit, and we will talk.”

The stone vines parted, then settled to the earth. They slid off the bodies of the two Angels in a long, slow caress, leaving only a single, slim coil wrapped around the ankles of each. But that was enough, as Nyx could tell by discreetly testing it. Epiphenia sat cross-legged in the sand. Her armor shifted and flowed, becoming a long, green dress, perfectly matched to her leaf-colored eyes. “Please,” she said. “Sit.”

Nyx and Arcana glared at each other and didn’t move.

“It will be much more relaxing if we all sit,” said Epiphenia. “And much more comfortable than me pulling you both up to your waists in the sand. Now, sit.”

The last word had enough power in it that Nyx was halfway down to the ground before she realized what she was doing. Arcana did exactly the same. Nyx shrugged and sat, taking the cross-legged position and letting her armor fade to nothing, mainly because she figured it would irritate Arcana to have Nyx sitting nude in front of her. Arcana raised an eyebrow and changed her armor to a plain gray dress that neither hugged nor hid her body, but somehow managed to make her look elegant and poised.

Persephone kept her armor on and glared by turns at Epiphenia and Arcana.

“Who are you?” Arcana said to Epiphenia in wonder. “You’re not one of us.”

“No,” said Epiphenia. “I was created by Nyx, using the WORD.”

“What?” Arcana was aghast. “Angels can’t use the WORD. Only God can use the word.”

“God and Tribunal,” said Epiphenia. “And when Nyx used the WORD, she was imbued with power from Tribunal far greater than that of any Angel.”

“Of course she was,” Arcana sneered. “And now what, you hold the four of us here to watch while Tribunal destroys the world?”

“No,” said Epiphenia. “Now, you listen to what Nyx has to say, and then you work with her to stop Tribunal. Because Nyx and Persephone aren’t strong enough to do it by themselves, and neither can speak to God.”

Arcana’s eyebrows went up. “And why should I believe a single thing Nyx has to say?”

“Because Nyx will open her mind to you.”

“What?” said Nyx. “I will NOT!”

“Yes,” said Epiphenia, “you will. Because the alternative is the destruction of the world.”

“Or I could just kill her,” said Nyx.

“Not likely,” said Arcana.

“And how will you get God’s attention if you kill her?” asked Epiphenia. “No, you will open your mind, Mother, Arcana will listen, and Persephone will calm down.” She looked over her shoulder at the still-fuming Persephone. “And then we will discuss how to tell God what is happening.”

“And if I don’t?” asked Nyx. “If I break free and cut Arcana’s head off? What then?”

You can’t break free, Mother,” said Epiphenia. “You can try if you like.”

Nyx tried.

An hour later, Nyx collapsed back down to the ground, glaring at Epiphenia. Arcana, who’d been watching with a combination of amusement and confusion, frowned. “How come you’re so much stronger than us?”

“Because I was created with the WORD,” Epiphenia said.

“We were all created with the WORD,” said Persephone. “So what?”

“Yes,” said Epiphenia. “You were all created with the WORD.”

Nyx sat up, looked at the vine around her ankle and sighed. “Does that mean that all the power that went into creating all the Angels went into you?”

Epiphenia smiled. “Not quite, Mother. Tribunal gave you an enormous amount of power, and the WORD gave you more. It wasn’t as strong as the power God used to create the Angels, but it all went into me. And because you used the WORD inside Creation, instead of in Heaven or Hell, the power of it combined with the power of what was already created. And all of that power flowed into me as well.”

Nyx frowned. “Then why couldn’t you defeat Lucifer’s Angels the first time?”

“I had only been alive for a few minutes, then,” said Epiphenia. “And my creator had made me to be sacrificed, then tried to stop the sacrifice. It was all very confusing, and perhaps I didn’t try as hard as I could have.” She smiled. “However, twenty years of being dead in Hell helped me understand myself better and to know what I want. Then you came along and got me out.”

“You were dead in Hell?” repeated Arcana.

“Yes.”

“And Nyx pulled you out.”

“Yes.”

“But Nyx is Queen of Hell.”

“Was,” corrected Epiphenia. “Lucifer is in charge now.”

Arcana looked from one to the other, then to Persephone. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” said Persephone. “Not that you believe me.”

Arcana shook her head and turned her eyes to the ocean. The sun was beginning to set, and a breeze was coming in off the water, stirring her hair and cooling her flesh. There was no question there was a lot she didn’t understand, a lot she hadn’t been told. What would it hurt, Arcana asked herself, to just listen?

When she turned back to the others, Epiphenia smiled at her. “Are you ready?”

Arcana sighed. “I’ve always liked a good story,” she said. “Nyx, will you open your mind to me?”

Nyx looked wary. “You’re not going to like it.”

“I’ll manage.”

“I killed Caelum and Orion.”

“I figured,” said Arcana, her voice becoming clipped. “Now, are you sharing or not?”

Nyx sighed herself and opened her mind. “Fine. I’ll share. But you’re not going to like it.”

“Shut up, Nyx,” came Arcana’s voice in her head.

“Start the night of Tribunal’s birth,” sent Nyx. “That’s where it all began.”

“I will,” said Arcana, and she stepped inside Nyx’s mind.

Unlike when Nyx had gone through Ishtar’s mind, this was not a battleground or a breaking down of barriers. Arcana’s touch was gentle, but thorough. She went through everything. She saw the beginning, when Michael talked with Nyx, and the moment when Nyx met Tribunal. She saw the passionate lovemaking that had a quality to it—of God or of man, she couldn’t say—that was different than the love between Angels. She heard Tribunal’s promises and saw Nyx crying at his crucifixion. She saw her bloody, horrifying revenge on Judas. She saw Nyx murder Caelum and Orion.

Then Arcana followed Nyx through the last millennium as she tried to carry out Tribunal’s instructions and build a religion that could triumph over Christianity. Nyx made and broke emperors and kings. She hunted Christians in the streets and convinced Rome to go against them. She went nearly insane as Constantine made Christianity one of the religions of Rome.

Arcana watched as Nyx sought to build her own empires, to control popes, and to direct human history, all leading up to the bloody battle and despoiling of Jerusalem. She saw the softening of Nyx’s soul, which Nyx herself barely recognized. Then she saw the birth and death of Epiphenia, the battle in Hell, and Nyx’s desperate struggle to escape.

And then they were back on the beach, and Arcana was staring at Nyx, looking not at all happy.

“Well?” said Nyx. “Did you miss anything?”

“You are a very bad person, Nyx,” reproved Arcana, keeping the knowledge of Nyx’s transformation to herself. She wasn’t sure what it meant. Even softened, Nyx was far from good—very, very far.

“Spend a few eons in Hell and see what you turn into,” said Nyx. “Are you helping or not?”

Arcana sighed and looked out to the ocean again. One of the few problems with being an Angel was that the greater good always trumped the lesser. And that means I can’t just kill her for the sake of killing her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She gave birth to an Angel. Does that make her worse—or not? “God will judge you for this, Nyx.”

“God already has.”

“No, God judged you for rebelling against him. This is…” Arcana shook her head. “This is something entirely different, and not mine to judge.” She turned to Epiphenia. “So how do we stop them?”

“You need to go to Heaven,” said Epiphenia, “and tell them what Tribunal has done.”

“Ah.” Arcana sighed again. “Well, the problem with that is, I can’t reach Heaven.”

Nyx’s jaw dropped. “You can’t?” She looked to the sky. “The Gates are open. I can see them open!”

“I know,” said Arcana. “But I still can’t get through them.”

In Hell, Ishtar, Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth stood in front of fifty Descended Angels. They were all ugly, mean, and prone to violence, even by Descended standards. They were also the best possible choice for the mission.

“Listen close,” said Ishtar, before any of the captains could speak. “I know Nyx better than anyone here. And I know Persephone. They’re both smart, they’re both dangerous, and they’re both better fighters than any of you. So don’t face them alone and don’t get cute. Hit them from behind, and preferably from a good distance away. Then move in for the kill. And remember that Earth isn’t like Heaven. Anything that dies up there stays dead, and that includes you.”

“So how do we get to Earth?” asked a large, squat, tusked Angel in the front. “Lucifer controls the gate.”

“Lucifer controlled the gate by telling you not to go through it,” said Ishtar. “Look up. The gate’s open.”

“Lucifer wanted to catch Nyx,” said another, a wraith-thin female with no tits to speak of and razor sharp teeth in her jaw. “He wanted to torture that bitch for eternity.”

“And we all saw how well that worked out,” said Ishtar. “This is a kill mission. You go up there, you kill her, you come back. Torture and kill a few hundred humans on the way if you like. No one cares about them.” She looked them up and down scornfully. “Any other stupid questions?”

“Why aren’t you going?”

Ishtar smiled, and this time her teeth became razor sharp and jagged. “Because someone has to run things here, and that’s going to be me.”

“You?” Moloch’s red, hairy eyebrows went up high on his forehead. “What makes you think…?”

Moloch’s head hit the ground with a thud, his body following a moment later. Ishtar sheathed her sword and grinned at the death squad. “Get out of here. Now. And if you don’t kill Nyx, you’d better pray God takes you back to Heaven. Go!”

The fifty Angels sprang into the air and toward the Lake of Fire, where the gate to earth awaited. Ishtar turned to Beelzebub, Azazel and Astaroth. “So, all of you at once or one at a time?”

Nyx, Persephone and Arcana winged high into the sky, up to the edges of Earth’s atmosphere, to float before the Gates to Heaven. As they watched, a dozen souls floated past, slipped in through the Gates and vanished from mortal realms.

“So what’s the problem?” demanded Nyx. “It’s right there. I can see it.”

“I’m glad you can,” said Arcana. “I can’t. I can feel it, and I know it’s there, but I can’t actually see it at all.”

“Weird,” said Persephone. “So how come we can see it?”

“Because we’re not allowed to pass through it,” said Nyx. “Doesn’t matter whether we can see it or not.” She shifted in the air so she was facing Arcana. “If we guide you through it, do you think that will work?”

“It’s worth a try,” said Arcana.

“Turn all your thoughts to Heaven,” said Persephone.

“I know how it works, thanks.”

Nyx and Persephone each took one of Arcana’s hands while Arcana closed her eyes. They guided her forward, straight up to the Gate, released her hands and pushed her through it.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” said Persephone.

“You would think so,” said Arcana, floating in the air a dozen yards ahead of them.

Nyx and Persephone exchanged a look. They took Arcana’s hands and tried again. They kept their eyes on her the entire time and saw her pass through where the Gate should have taken her to Heaven.

“What. The. Fuck?” said Persephone. “That’s not possible. Are you sure you’re trying?”

Arcana calculated Pi to the hundredth digit in her head before answering, “Yes, Persephone. I am sure I am trying.”

“What else have you done to get through?”

“Everything,” said Arcana. “I’ve tried flying through; I’ve followed souls through. I’ve thrown every ounce of power I have at it in the hopes of making it open. Nothing has worked.”

“Tribunal’s sealed it, then,” said Nyx. “Probably the moment the Gates opened he made it impossible for Angels to pass from Earth to Heaven.”

“Most likely,” agreed Arcana. “But why haven’t any Angels noticed that it’s sealed on the other side? Or at least come through to see what’s happening on Earth?”

“I assume he’s blocking them as well,” said Nyx.

“Shit,” said Persephone. “How powerful is he?”

The three Angels stared at one another as they floated in the air before the Gates of Heaven.

And if he’s this powerful, wondered Nyx, how are we going to stop him?

Nyx, Arcana, Persephone! Epiphenia’s voice rang in each of their minds. You must return, quickly!

As one, they folded their wings and dove for the Earth.

Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Azrael stood in the glade, listening. Tribunal was in Heaven. But he was not calling out to anyone and did not seem to be directing any attention toward them.

“How are we doing?”

“We have brought the realization,” said Raphael, using the term they had agreed upon, in case Tribunal was listening, “to fifty thousand so far. They will bring it to fifty thousand more. Then those will bring it to a hundred thousand others. By tomorrow, half a million Angels will know what has befallen us.”

“Will it be enough?” asked Raphael.

“I don’t know,” said Michael. “But I fear we are running out of time to deal with him, if we can still deal with him at all.”

“You think he grows more powerful?”

“I think he’s an aspect of God,” said Michael. “I fear he’s come to understand what that means and how much power he can draw upon.”

“So when?”

“Dawn,” said Michael. He smiled. “It’s traditional.”

“Tradition is a fine thing,” agreed Gabriel.

“And the plan is?” asked Azrael.

“We fly on the mountain to seek an audience with God,” said Michael. “All of us at once, from all directions. And if even one of us can get through, God will be able to tell us what his will is, and put a stop to whatever Tribunal is doing.”

In the center of the Sahara desert, a pit opened in the ground. Rocks and sand slid out of sight into the darkness, and the earth rumbled and shook. A deep, fetid stench rose up from the pit.

High above, Nyx, Arcana, and Persephone all sensed the arrivals of the Descended at the same time. They steepened their dive, falling on the island like streaks of fire.

In the darkest parts of the jungle along the Amazon River, where no human had ever ventured and returned, another pit opened.

In the wild steppes of northeastern Asia, a third pit opened.

A fourth opened in a place called Agu by its people—a place that would eventually be called Australia.

The fifth opened in southern India, in a temple dedicated to Kali.

Ten Descended Angels crawled from each one.

On the Island, Arcana, Persephone, and Nyx landed with a force that sent sand and wind flying and knocked over several small trees. “Fifty of them,” said Arcana. “All Descended. All tough.”

“All hunting for us?” asked Persephone.

“Only reason they’d come here,” said Nyx.

“Why only them?” asked Arcana. “Lucifer knows you are here; he knows how powerful you are, Nyx. And even this one —” She tossed a dismissive wave in Persephone’s direction— “is not without skill. Why send so few?”

“Fifty Descended is hardly few,” protested Persephone. “They could give you a run for your money.”

“Any twenty of them might,” said Arcana. “The same for Nyx. For you, probably ten would be enough. But they’re all separate. Which means we could fly to each group and destroy them. Why?”

“Because Lucifer and Tribunal aren’t ready to unleash the hordes of Hell onto the Earth yet, and they want to make sure we’re too preoccupied to stop them,” said Nyx. “Though I’m sure he wouldn’t mind at all if they killed us.” She turned her attention outward and spread her senses to the world. The Descended had spotted them and were winging their way toward the island. “They’re coming.”

“They can sense us,” said Arcana.

“I know,” said Nyx. “How do you think I found Caelum and Orion? There’s no place on Earth that one Angel can’t sense another.”

“They can’t sense me,” said Epiphenia in her musical voice. “I’m of the Earth and they only sense me as part of it, not as a separate entity.”

“Can you destroy them?” asked Nyx.

“Yes,” said Epiphenia. “But it will take time and power, and right now we have neither to spare if we are to get Arcana to Heaven.”

Nyx frowned. “Do you think you have enough power to open the Gate?”

Epiphenia shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can try.”

Nyx scanned the sky, waiting for the first Descended to come into sight. “We have to get Arcana to Heaven to tell God what’s going on. Anything else is secondary.” She paced up and down the beach, thinking. “Epiphenia, you said they can’t detect you. Can you make it so they can’t detect us?”

Epiphenia thought a moment. “I believe so.”

“Do it. Then go to the Gates. See if you can open them. We’ll get out of here for now.”

“Can we go to Greece?” asked Persephone. “And get some wine and grapes and meat?” Both Nyx and Arcana gave her a look. She shrugged. “I’ve been in Hell for twenty years. I miss food.”

“This may hurt,” warned Epiphenia. She touched Nyx’s cheek and once more Nyx felt her body being invaded. It hurt much less this time. Persephone swore and grimaced when Epiphenia touched her cheek. Arcana didn’t make a sound. A moment later, awareness of both Angel’s presences vanished from Nyx’s mind, though she could see them standing in front of her.

“This is just weird,” said Persephone.

Nyx reached out with her mind and found the other Descended, still winging toward them. “We need to go. Now.”

The four launched into the air and flew. Arcana kept going straight up into the sky. Nyx led the others on a zigzag course that took them across the Pacific and over the North Pole to Europe.

How does the south of France sound? She sent to Persephone.

Very, very good, sent Persephone. Think Epiphenia can get Arcana into Heaven?

I hope so, sent Nyx. Or we are in big trouble.

Chapter 10

ISHTAR WALKED ACROSS the spiked plains of Hell, reveling in the screams and cries of the damned. The heads of Moloch, Beelzebub, Azazel, and Astaroth dragged behind her, secured by a long, hooked wire of Hellstone that ran in through each one’s mouth and out through the hole where each head had once been attached to its neck. Behind her, dozens of small demons fought over the remains of the Descended captains’ bodies.

Ishtar reached the shore of the Lake of Fire and stopped. Demons and Descended Angels were fishing fresh-fallen souls out of the Lake and subjecting them to brutal torments. Ishtar smiled. The screams of the newly arrived were always the most satisfying. In Hell, the torment never ended, but the surprise of it did wear off. Hearing the freshly dead realize they were in Hell was always amusing.

She looked down at the line of heads trailing behind her. All four of them glared back at her. “To be fair,” she said, “I did give you all a chance to fight for it.”

The four heads mouthed soundless curses that made Ishtar smile. She remembered how they’d sneered at her when she was Lucifer’s captive. She pulled the end of the wire, making the heads roll and crack against one another. Then she began spinning it, raising it over her head and making it swing faster and faster until the heads became a blur above her. “Now,” she called to them. “In about fifty years, I’ll be pulling you out, and I’ll expect each one of you to show me how obedient you’re willing to be. If you do that, I might even let you have your bodies back.”

Ishtar released the wire and the four heads spun out into the middle of the Lake of Fire, landing with a splash and sinking immediately. Ishtar watched the flames ripple from the impact before she turned away. That was always pretty to see.

Now, I have some work to do, she thought. The Descended are going to have trouble accepting me as their leader unless I show them who is boss. So, which one do I behead first?

Something stirred in the Lake behind her. Ishtar turned, wondering what would cause the Lake to shift. The surface bubbled, and freezing flames of Hellfire spat out of the Lake to scald the demons, souls and Descended on the lakeshore. The souls screamed, the Angels cursed, and the demons squealed. Ishtar did none of those things. She simply watched.

The surface of the Lake of Fire exploded outward in a huge wave, and from the midst of it, shedding Hellfire like water, Lucifer rose, wings wide and chest heaving, his naked flesh huge and strong and powerful, glowing like polished silver in the dim light of Hell. His rage flowed from him like the Hellfire, washing over anyone who could see him. The other Angels quailed.

Ishtar remained where she was, and thought: Well, shit.

Lucifer landed hard on the ground in front of her. Ishtar dropped onto one knee. “My Dread Lord,” she said. “I had not expected to see you free. Ever.”

“And would that be why you’ve decided to take over Hell?” Lucifer growled as he advanced on her.

“Yes,” said Ishtar. “Why not? I learned a lot from you. But now that you’re back…” She shrugged. “I kneel to you, my Dread Lord. I am your servant and vassal and shall serve you however I may.” Her head tilted to one side. “How did you get out of there, anyway?”

“When Tribunal left, his attention to the chains left with him,” growled Lucifer. “Once that happened it was only a matter of time.”

“Impressive,” said Ishtar, rising and laying a hand on his chest. “Very impressive.” She looked up at him through her lashes and let her hand slip down. “So, would you like to fuck me while we wait to go to Earth? Or shall I fetch you some souls to fuck as well?”

“You first,” said Lucifer. “Then order my captains to me.”

“I’m your captain,” said Ishtar. “The others are in the Lake. Well, their heads are in the Lake.”

Lucifer growled and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back to a point that would have snapped a mortal’s neck. “Then you will fuck me and then carry out my orders,” he said. “I want every loyal legion prepared to fight. The rest will stay here and not share in the glory.” He pulled her back farther, knowing it hurt. Ishtar grinned and kept stroking him. She was really tired of not being in charge, but she wasn’t stupid. “When the time comes, the 666th will go out first and establish our lines in case the Heavenly Host decides to fight us. And since my captains are now gone, you will be in charge of the 666th.”

“I obey,” breathed Ishtar, reveling in the pain in her neck and back. He threw her to the ground, hard. Ishtar spread her legs and, as he mounted her, plotted his death.

Where the fuck did they go? Berith sent.

He and his squad of Descended flew high above the ice fields of Antarctica, circling and sending their senses out in all directions. Nyx and Persephone had both been there a moment before, along with Arcana—fucking holy bitch—then they all vanished as if they were not on the Earth at all.

Anyone see them?

From the other parts of the world, Pesado, Verrine, Gressil, and Sonneillon, the other leaders of the squads, answered back with the same result. Nyx, Persephone, and Arcana were gone.

They didn’t open a gate, sent Berith. We all would have felt that. So they’re here somewhere.

It’s a big planet, returned Sonneillon. We don’t have the numbers to search it all.

Everyone shut up, Gressil said. Listen for their names. If they’re here, they will speak, and we will find them.

Good idea, sent Verrine. Who thought of it for you?

Gressil snarled but didn’t reply. They all fell silent and listened.

The first voice to call Nyx’s name belonged to a mortal. So did the second, and the third, and the hundred that came after. Berith listened in shock as thousands of mortals sent prayers to Nyx.

I don’t believe it! Pesado sent. That bitch built a religion!

Berith’s eyes narrowed and a smile went over his face. Think she’ll save her followers?

He could sense the eagerness in the other Descended, even the ones thousands of miles away.

Follow me! Berith sent to his troops. Let’s see if we can flush the bitch out!

Epiphenia hovered in the air in front of the Gates of Heaven. She could see the Gates and the souls passing through them. She could sense Heaven on the other side. She reached out with her hand and felt something solid, though she could see no barrier. She closed her eyes and let her mind go forward. To her surprise, it slipped easily through the barrier.

Which makes sense, thought Epiphenia. Tribunal thinks I’m dead, and I’m not of Heaven or Hell, so why would the barrier be designed to keep me from reaching God? For all his power, he probably doesn’t have any to spare.

She reached forward with her hand. It stopped at the edge of the Gate. Epiphenia smiled. Her mind might be allowed forward, but not her person. God had not designed Heaven for her—or maybe I am not designed for Heaven—so she could not go in physically. Still, she could and did reach past the barrier with her mind.

God was everywhere. His presence rumbled through Heaven like the continuous beat of a timpani; a deep vibration that echoed through all things. It was a vibration of warmth and love and power, a sense of the eternal and infinite all in one. The sweetness of mortal flesh, of the Earth’s green growing things, was raised to a pitch where it became something else, where death was shucked off like an old skin. It was fascinating to Epiphenia, and it took all her will not to lose herself in the exploration of it.

There was another, lighter vibration below the first, equally as pervasive though not as strong. Tribunal. Epiphenia recoiled from it at first, sure that her presence would be detected. When nothing happened, she ventured forth again and opened her mind.

Tribunal had cast a glamor over all of Heaven, making those inside forget any desire to think about or look at Earth. It was exquisitely crafted and using up a great deal of power. So was the block on the Gate. Epiphenia immersed herself in the vibration that was Tribunal’s presence. She felt it go through her, felt it going through the entirety of Heaven.

When she slipped out of it, she was trembling with fear.

He has so much power.

So much anger.

Epiphenia extended her mind out again, exploring the barrier, searching for a weakness. There wasn’t one. No Angel would be able to pass through that barrier as long as it was up. She began applying gentle pressure to the barrier, to see if it would respond. It didn’t react at all.

Epiphenia’s lips pushed tight against one another. This is very irritating. She applied more power; the result was the same. The barrier reacted as if she were not really there.

She stopped and sent her mind out again. She slipped it into the streams of thought in Heaven, and looked for the great power that was God. If she could reach him, she could speak to him, and since she could feel him, maybe there was a way…

Will he love me too? I am neither good nor evil. Yet I am better than Tribunal. I do not want the world to die.

Tribunal’s power was wrapped around God’s presence like the peel on an orange. It was part of God’s presence, but definitely different from it. She felt a stab of disappointment that she couldn’t reach God, for herself as well as her mission. She had questions.

I wonder if anyone else in Heaven can feel what Tribunal is doing?

I wonder if I can reach anyone else in Heaven?

Epiphenia reached out again with her mind to find out.

The city of Gnyozdovo was quieter at night, though not fully quiet. It was a major trading town and a fortress, and so there were comings and goings at all hours, especially near the river where ships came in to dock and men and women waited to serve the sailors food and drink and sex, and whatever else they desired. Men stood watch along the walls of the fortress, and others stood ready at the docks to keep the peace, should any quarrels grow out of hand.

Vladimir Royok stepped out of one of the buildings dedicated to pleasure. It had been a good trip for him, this time. The furs he had brought had traded well, the food and beer had been excellent, and the woman who had serviced him had been more than skillful. He had coin in his pocket, a full, happy stomach, and a satiated lust. Life could not be better. He would sleep the night on his boat, with the cargo of iron pots and grain, and leave in the morning.

He had just stepped on the dock when the demon landed in front of him, its eyes glowing red and its black wings flapping. Vladimir opened his mouth to shout in horror and the creature’s sword, a vile, hook-ended thing with a serrated blade, shoved into his stomach and tore down. His shout turned to a scream of pain as the stench of his ruptured bowels filled his nostrils.

The creature twisted its blade and pulled him close. It had a tusked mouth, and its teeth were razor sharp. “Pray, little man,” it said. “Scream to your goddess, Nyx, and maybe she will come to your rescue.” When Vladimir, falling into shock, only gasped, the creature shook its arm, ripping the blade deeper through Vladimir’s body. “Pray!”

Vladimir screamed out Nyx’s name as the town around him erupted in flames and cries of agony. As his eyes dimmed, Vladimir saw more of the black-winged demons falling from the sky.

Berith changed the shape of his blade, making it smooth so the human’s corpse could slide off it. Around him, mortals tried to run or fight, or simply died. Some were rounded up and made to pray, others were brutally abused in front of their children. Some children were pulled slowly in half while their parents screamed to Nyx for help.

Berith’s lips curved into a grin. If that doesn’t make the bitch come running, nothing will.

The table was crowded with platters of roasted meat and fowl; baskets of warm bread, fragrant with herbs; and bowls of salad glistening with fresh green oil. Nyx was savoring her first glass of wine in far too long when the screams of her followers began reverberating in her head. Usually, their voices were like the murmur of a quiet brook in her mind, always there but easily ignored. This time, they rose up in a cacophony of pain and despair.

“Nyx?” said Persephone. “What’s going on?”

“They’re killing them,” said Nyx through gritted teeth.

“Who is killing whom?” asked Arcana.

Nyx let her mind flow out to her followers and saw with their eyes. “Berith, Pesado, Verrine, Gressil and Sonneillon are leading them,” said Nyx. “They’ve each taken a city: Gnyozdovo, Helmgard, Beloozero, Muron and Timerovo. They’re slaughtering everyone,”

Arcana’s eyes unfocused as she let her mind move over the earth. Men and women and children died in agony, screaming Nyx’s name.

“They really want to lure you out,” said Persephone. “What are you going to do?”

Nyx growled, and her shoulders drew in.

Arcana rose up from the table. “I cannot allow innocents to be slaughtered.”

“They’ll kill you,” said Nyx. “Once they know you’re here, they’ll all come at you at once.”

“I know,” said Arcana. “Which is when you and Persephone will ambush the others.”

Persephone smiled. “I like the way you think.”

“I don’t,” said Nyx. “We can’t stop Tribunal if we get killed helping the humans.”

“They are your followers,” said Arcana. “Your responsibility.”

“They’re humans, and they’re being killed,” snapped Nyx. The other people in the tavern were looking their way, curious. “It happens. And we can’t save them all if we die saving a few!”

Arcana reached inside her armor and cast the pendant she had found onto the table in front of Nyx. The three interconnected moons gleamed in the light of the fireplace. The little copper flames on its sides seemed to dance in the flickering light.

“You are their Goddess,” said Arcana. “They are your responsibility.”

“I know that!”

Even as the words left Nyx’s mouth, she felt the desperate babbling prayers of her followers rising up in her mind. One of the prayers came from a girl of eleven years, who was being subjected to hideous abuses by three of Berith’s Descended. A dozen other prayers came from her family, who were being forced to watch.

“Fuck.” These people didn’t do anything to deserve this! “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Nyx pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the pendant off the table.

Persephone rose as well. “Are we going, my Queen?”

Nyx kicked the table they were at hard enough that it flew across the room and shattered into splinters against the wall. The others in the small tavern yelped in surprise and shock and ran out the door. “Yes, we’re going. Arcana, start at Gnyozdovo. It’s the farthest from the others and will give us the best chance.”

Berith stood on the top of the highest tower in Gnyozdovo, grinning. He held a bleeding, screaming child in each hand. Their father was on his knees before Berith, begging and pleading and praying to Nyx to preserve his children. All around, the city burned. The last of the warriors had been killed, and now the frightened townsfolk did what the weak did best: scrabbled desperately to survive.

“You’re not praying hard enough!” shouted Berith. He pulled back his left arm and threw the little girl. The man screamed and rushed to the edge of the tower just in time to see his child’s brains dashed out on the ground below. With a howl of rage, he threw himself at Berith, unarmed, clawing and punching and biting at the Descended.

Berith dropped the other child out of sheer surprise. Then he punched the man in the head hard enough that his skull cracked open. The man slumped to the ground, dead.

“Too bad,” said Berith. “I wanted to see what you’d do when I dismembered your son in front of you.” He looked down at the screaming, crying child. “And now you’re useless.”

He was raising his foot to stomp on the child’s head when an exquisite pain ripped across his body. He had only a moment to realize that he had been cut in half when a thrust drove a shining blade into his heart, exploding it, and him, into silver dust.

Arcana picked up the child as Berith disintegrated and flew it down to the ground. Then she took to the air again.

“HEAR ME!” Her voice echoed the length of the city. “I am Arcana! Servant of God and soldier in his army! And I COMMAND you to cease and return to Hell or be destroyed!”

The screams from around the city diminished slightly as nine more Descended rose up from the city. Several, Arcana saw, were in varying states of sexual excitement. Arcana let her armor glow brilliant white. Its light pierced through the dark of the night and spread over the city. The people below, for the first time since the Descended started their attack, felt hope resurging inside them.

“Get the bitch!” screamed one of the Descended, his red armor flowing over his body as he charged forward. Arcana smiled, the grim joy of battle—true battle—rising up inside her, and charged forward to meet him.

Sonneillon and her squad of Descended raced through the cloudy sky toward Gnyozdovo. Berith’s squad had not found Nyx, it was true, but finding a Heavenly Angel was nearly as good. Sonneillon practically drooled. It had been so long since she had faced one of the Heavenly Host, those Angels of shining flesh and superior attitude. If they could capture Arcana, they could visit tortures upon her that not even one of God’s soldiers could hope to stay sane through.

There was a whistle of wings cutting through the air, then a scream. Sonneillon spun in the air just in time to see one of her squad explode into a cloud of silver dust that sparkled briefly before being scattered by the wind.

“What the fuck?” Sonneillon shouted. “Squad, move to…”

This time she caught a glimpse of black wings and armor streaking down from the sky before another of her Descended burst into silver dust.

Holy fuck, it’s Nyx! She opened her mind up to send to the other squads of Descended. Nyx is…

From below her, Persephone broke through the clouds and slashed Sonneillon open from belly to throat. The shock jarred the thought from Sonneillon’s head. Persephone buried her hand inside Sonneillon’s chest and then yanked.

Persephone opened her mouth, now filled with razor-sharp fangs, and Sonneillon had just enough time before she exploded into silver dust to see her own heart being bitten in half.

Michael rose from the bench on the mountain, opened his mind and sent, “It’s time.”

Around Heaven, from the gardens to the sunlit, flower-covered plains, to the mountains and forests, from the caves below and the skies above, the Angels came. Half a million Angels, white wings spread wide, flew in a long, slow circle surrounding God’s mountain. It would take hours before they all were in place.

Assuming there’s no interference. Michael would not even allow himself to think the name of the one who might interfere. Assuming we are let through. Assuming everyone doesn’t forget about it.

“That’s a lot of assumptions,” sent someone.

The voice in Michael’s head was one he had never heard before, and Michael knew every voice in Heaven. It was not one of the Angels or one of the souls. It wasn’t one of the Descended either, for he knew all of them as well. And it certainly wasn’t God. Or Tribunal.

“Who are you?” Michael sent back.

“Epiphenia. Nyx’s daughter.”

Michael was so surprised at that he forgot to flap his wings, fell thirty feet, and had to recover. Good thing Rafael wasn’t here for that. He’d laugh so hard he’d fall out of the sky. Michael turned his attention to the strange voice. “Angels can’t have children.”

“Nyx did,” sent Epiphenia. “Tribunal asked her to, and she did. Then Tribunal took me down to Hell to murder me.”

“Souls can’t be murdered,” sent Michael.

“I’m not a soul. I’m an Angel.”

“Only God can create an Angel.”

“Or Tribunal,” sent Epiphenia, “who is an aspect of God. He gave the power to Nyx to create an Angel.”

Michael pondered that. “Why?”

“Because in order for Tribunal to destroy God, he must make the impossible happen. He must kill an Angel in a place where Angels cannot be killed. He must make God’s holiest city turn its back on God, and he must make God himself turn his eyes away from Earth, Heaven, and Hell.”

Michael frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he is nearly done,” sent Epiphenia. “He has commanded the Hosts of Hell to stand ready to invade the Earth and destroy all the humans.”

Michael flew in silence for a long time. At last he asked, “Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to,” sent Epiphenia. “Arcana is here on Earth. If we could bring her to Heaven, she could tell you all the truth of the matter. But Tribunal has blocked the way. No Angel may enter Heaven.”

“Arcana?” Michael frowned. “What about Orion and Caelum?”

“They’re dead.”

“What?”

“Nyx killed them a thousand years ago.”

“Impossible!” Michael thought furiously. “We would have known. Whenever an Angel perishes, all other Angels can feel it!”

“Have you felt anything from Earth in the last thousand years?” asked Epiphenia.

“No,” admitted Michael. “We’ve felt nothing at all.”

“We need to get Arcana through the Gate,” said Epiphenia. “When she arrives, she can tell you all what has happened and alert God to Tribunal’s actions.”

“If she can reach God,” sent Michael. “We’re trying to do that here.”

There was silence for a time. Then Epiphenia sent, “Let me know when Tribunal comes to stop you. It may be what we need to get through.”

“I will do so,” said Michael. He smiled in spite of himself. “Tell Arcana I said hello.”

“I will,” said Epiphenia. “Right now, in fact.”

Arcana flipped over in the air, her wings drawing in tight to help her corkscrew through the three Descended attacking her. Her blade flashed out, taking one’s arm and another’s wing. The third moved out of the way in time and lashed her whip toward Arcana’s face. Arcana caught it in one armored hand and pulled. The Descended jerked closer, and Arcana’s blade went through its eye. It screamed and fell away.

“Arcana!” Epiphenia’s voice echoed in her head. “The Gate is going to open soon! You must come!”

Arcana drove her blade through the heart of the Descended with no arm, and he burst into silver dust. The other two—the only two left of the squad over Gnyozdovo, flew away fast, heading west to where the other Descended were converging upon Nyx.

“I hear,” sent Arcana. “Nyx, Persephone! I must go!”

“Sure,” Persephone sent. “Leave now when it’s getting fun!”

“Go!” sent Nyx. “Tell God! And hurry!”

Arcana went, rising fast and high until she broke through the top of the clouds and rose above the sky to where Epiphenia waited, outside the Gates of Heaven.

Tribunal sat in a place that didn’t exist.

It was not in Heaven, though it was close by. It was not in Hell. It was not Sheol—the place of the unbelievers—or any place in the mortal world. It was a place that did not exist in any of God’s realms, but stood outside of them, attached to all of them. From it, Tribunal could go wherever he chose. More important, from there he could see every part of Heaven, Earth, and Hell.

And he could access the mind of God, which was like seeing the entirety of creation from the inside and outside simultaneously, while feeling the motion of every single molecule within it. He could see past and present, and all the alternate futures that still lay before the universe, save the one that Tribute was planning.

But then, God was not planning for it all to end.

Tribunal’s disgust at God reared up, filling his very being with bile. He was a being apart. Not a mortal, not an Angel. God and not God; God’s Son and God’s Self; God’s creation and God’s being. There was nothing in the universe like him. And God had sent him down to Earth to preach to the disgusting, self-serving humans. He’d made Tribunal live among them and cure them of their illnesses and insanity and wounds. Tribunal had taught them peace and love and had been tortured and crucified for it.

Why did you do it to me, my father? Why did you make them worship me? Why did you make me preach to them when I should have been destroying them all?

Tribunal was the Son of God. He was God. And the humans were unworthy of him. And since God would not allow Tribunal to destroy the humans, Tribunal would destroy God.

It had taken a thousand years. But then, Tribunal had known that it would.

From the first moment he arrived in Heaven, Tribunal had let his essence mesh with his father’s. In doing so, he learned the WORD and how the universe was made. And he learned how he could unmake it.

The universe was a creation of God, and in it God had poured his essence. God was not only the Creator of the universe but part of the universe. When the universe ceased to exist, it would be possible to unmake God.

But the universe could not cease to exist until God ceased to think of it.

The problem was that God’s mind was all encompassing. He saw all, heard all, and thought about all. The universe was always in his mind, and his mind was always in the universe.

That said, there was a strong difference between knowing something is happening and paying attention to it, and it had been that difference that Tribunal had used to his advantage.

He had started small, making an illusion of himself and projecting it. Then he spread his power out, slowly enclosing God’s mind with an illusion of Heaven, then the Universe, then Hell. It had taken a thousand years, as he had known it would. And to test it, he’d had Nyx invade and destroy Jerusalem. And it had worked. Jerusalem was God’s city, and he had not even noticed when it fell. God’s mind was being turned in on itself, surrounded by Tribunal. God’s mind was on its way to non-being.

Next, Tribunal had broken God’s laws. These were not the simple laws that humans preached to one another. These were the Laws of Creation: immutable, unchanging, and irrevocable. And if Tribunal was capable of breaking them, then it meant that God’s mind was truly no longer in the Universe. So he had given Nyx the power to create an Angel. And when she had done so, he had taken that Angel to Hell and killed it, ending its existence and bringing Tribunal one step closer to destroying God’s Creation.

And when God is gone, and the Creation has been destroyed, then I will recreate it in MY image instead of his.

Tribunal sank back into his own mind. He was nearly finished. The illusionary worlds of Earth and Hell had already been created and he was nearly finished projecting. All that remained was to finish the last bits of Heaven. Once that was done, God would be isolated in a cocoon of Tribunal’s making, unable to see Creation, and unable to stop Tribunal from destroying it all.

Tribunal was just copying God’s mountain when he realized half a million Angels were charging toward it.

Tribunal swore and took himself out of the space between the worlds to the place in Heaven that his illusion occupied. It was by God’s right hand, beside his throne, and moving there was extremely tricky. Even more tricky was moving away from there and leaving his illusion behind so that God did not notice him go. Tribunal managed it, as he knew he would. God was nearly totally distracted.

But having a half-million Angels charge him just might wake him up.

He moved faster than any Angel could to the top of the stairs in front of God’s throne. The skies of Heaven were crowded with Angels. They dove down or flew up toward God’s mountain from every direction at once. At their forefront, Tribunal saw Michael, his sword sheathed, but his face showing no doubt that this, too, was battle and one that God’s Warrior was not intending to lose.

I cannot kill them. Not yet. God may be distracted, but the Angels were parts of his immortal self, and the deaths of half a million of them would certainly bring God’s attention. And if that happened…

No. It will have to be distraction, Tribunal decided.

He closed his eyes and brought together the power he would need.

At the Gates of Heaven, Epiphenia and Arcana floated, waiting. Epiphenia’s mind was attuned to Heaven and the power that kept the Gate closed. Arcana was silent and still, as only a warrior of God awaiting orders could be.

There! Epiphenia sent. It weakens!

Arcana pushed against the block on the Gate and felt it give slightly. Not enough, she sent.

Not enough for you, sent Epiphenia back.

In Iceland, a volcanic eruption that would have destroyed the island lost all strength and the pushing, bubbling magma sank into the Earth’s mantle.

And high above the world, all the power of that volcano blasted out of Epiphenia and into the Gates of Heaven.

Michael saw Tribunal take his place on the stairs around God’s throne. He saw the sphere of power that grew around Tribunal’s form, expanding ever faster in a black ring of malevolence, like the leading edge of an explosion.

He cannot expect to destroy us, thought Michael. God will notice a half-million Angels gone.

But what if he doesn’t care?

It was a terrible thought for an Angel to have.

“What do we do?” demanded Raphael.

God must care, Michael corrected himself. God would not let us all die in vain. God, in his goodness, has been betrayed and as before, it is up to us to protect his Creation. He sent out to all the Angels at once, “Stay the course. We will reach God. And if Tribunal destroys us, then God will know, and order shall be restored.”

The expanding sphere of darkness engulfed them all.

“Now!” sent Epiphenia.

Arcana focused every ounce of her being on breaking through the Gates and flew forward. There was a moment of pure agony as she forced herself into the wall of power that blocked the way. Epiphenia put all her power into pushing Arcana through. The pain became excruciating and then vanished. Arcana was out of mortal realms and winging upward to Heaven.

In Heaven, a half-million Angels disbursed from God’s mountain, content that their message had been delivered and that all was right with God and with the world.

Standing on the stairs before God’s throne, Tribunal watched the Angels wing away. Pride filled him. He—alone—had turned half a million Angels away. God had not even noticed. I am the only one fit to rule here, he thought. Mine is the power and the glory.

The time has come.

God was no longer paying attention to Heaven or Hell or Earth. There was still a chance he could be reached though. If enough people of the Earth cried out for him—for God, not for any of his mythological stand-ins—he might notice it. And that was why Tribunal’s next step was to, country by country, eliminate all the humans from the Earth. Then there would be no one to cry out for God’s help when Tribunal unmade Creation.

And when Creation is unmade, God himself will be unmade, thought Tribunal. What a pleasure it will be to get rid of him. A faint anxiety crossed his mind, which he stifled. And then I will bring into being my own Creation, and it will be stupendous. There will be no humans, no Angels, no devils. I will build my own race of immortals, and together we will watch the universe grow and die, and when that happens, we will make it grow all over again, He smiled. Maybe I’ll keep the Archangels around until the end, just so I can feel their despair as they watch their God become unmade.

Chapter 11

NYX WAS SPATTERED with silver ichor from a dozen different Angels. It covered her skin, her armor, and flicked off her wings as she flew through the Alps. She could feel it sliding down her body before it flew off to spatter the nearby mountaintops. She wondered that God didn’t notice the deaths of so many.

Nyx was moving so fast the air rippled around her. Every time she passed near the tops of the mountains she blew up a long, graceful plume of snow that swirled and danced in the slipstream of her wings.

She would have been more impressed with it if she weren’t being chased by twenty-three Descended Angels, all howling for her death. As it was, all she could do was lead them somewhere where she could destroy them all.

And it would be a lot easier if I had some help, Nyx thought darkly. Persephone had vanished hours before, leading away a third of the surviving Descended. It had been helpful at the time, but now with Arcana gone to Heaven… Persephone! Where are you?

St. Moritz, sent Persephone. Near a nice little tavern with some divine-smelling lamb cooking.

And what the fuck are you doing there?

Hunting. Hold on a moment… Persephone left the mind-link open, and Nyx heard the Descended Angel’s howl of pain as Persephone’s blade hacked through his body. There was a brief clash of blades and then another howl, suddenly cut off. What are you doing?

Running. I have twenty-three of them chasing me.

Sounds like fun, sent Persephone. Why don’t we meet in Nice and kill them all together?

Too many people for them to kill, not enough places to hide.

Rome, then?

Always Rome, Nyx groused. No wonder it’s the Eternal City.

Eternally fun, sent Persephone. Think we can lure them into the Catacombs?

Nyx looked over her shoulder at the howling pack of Descended. Their armor was also spattered with blood, mostly silver and their own. A few were flecked with Nyx’s blood, the result of some lucky cuts when she was fighting the others. A couple even had gold blood on them from their encounter with Arcana. All of them were angry from the deaths of their friends. Shouldn’t be a problem.

Think Arcana made it?

Fuck, I hope so.

Epiphenia hung in the sky in front of the Gates of Heaven. There was no air here to stir her long hair, no sound to reach her ears. There was only silence and the Gate through which she would never enter.

Arcana had gone through, and now there was little Epiphenia could do. She was reaching out with her mind, listening and watching and feeling what was happening on the other side of the Gate as best she could. She could feel that Arcana was still on her way up to the inner Gates, still unnoticed by Tribunal.

Heaven had changed, and not for the better.

The power that had been blocking the Gates was once more at full strength. No one would come in or out again until Tribunal was ready. The deep timpani vibration of God’s presence was less than it had been, and the layer of Tribunal’s presence around God’s had grown thicker. The Angels in Heaven didn’t seem to have noticed the change, but Epiphenia could feel it. God was still there, but distant, as if he no longer had interest in what was happening in his Creation.

My father. Are you my father too? Why don’t you notice us? Your children are dying on Earth, as they will in Heaven.

She reached out to find Michael, hoping that God’s Soldier would be able to help protect Arcana. To her surprise, Michael was nowhere near God’s mountain, even though he’d been leading the assault on it only a few hours before. She searched through Heaven until she found him, far from the mountain, leading a full flight of armed Angels on patrol.

Epiphenia reached out to his mind. “Michael. Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” replied Michael. “Who are you?”

For a moment, Epiphenia understood Nyx’s propensity for swearing. “Epiphenia. We spoke before. When you led the Angels to the mountain.”

“When I did what?”

The clear lack of comprehension in Michael’s mind sent a wave of despair washing over Epiphenia. He could not remember. The strongest of God’s Archangels could not remember what he had done only moments before.

“Michael,” Epiphenia said carefully, “what do you remember of the last little while?”

“What do you mean?” asked Michael. “And where are you, Epiphenia? You are not in Heaven, and I do not recognize you.”

“I am on Earth. I am Nyx’s daughter. And I am trying to stop Tribunal from destroying all Creation.”

“Angels can’t have children.”

Epiphenia would have screamed in frustration if there had been enough air where she was. She forced herself to calm down. “Michael, I am going to open my mind to you.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Michael. “What do you have to share with me?”

Epiphenia didn’t answer, just opened up her mind and let all of it spill into Michael’s, from her birth on Earth to her death in Hell, to her rebirth and all that led to this very moment.

This can’t be true, said Michael, and Epiphenia could sense how badly the news had shaken him. To tamper with an Angel’s memory is… His voice hardened. Tribunal cannot be trying this. There is no way…

Arcana is coming, sent Epiphenia. And if she cannot get through to God…

Michael turned in the air, leaving the other Angels behind, and winged back to the Gates of Heaven, fear driving him faster than he had gone before.

In his place between the worlds, Tribunal was examining the moment when he had faced down the Angels. He had used his power, yes, and had surrounded God’s mountain with it without God noticing. But when he had, something else had happened.

He replayed the moment in his mind, feeling every nuance of the power he had used, and all the other power he was using. Something had changed…

The Gates to Earth, Tribunal realized.

Someone had sent a massive surge of power at the same time as his attention had been with the Angels. Something had weakened his Gate there so much that someone had come through.

And not just anyone, either… He turned his thoughts on the path from the outer Gates to the Inner Gates. There was an Angel there, flying up with all her strength. Arcana. Fancy seeing you here.

And more importantly, thought Tribunal. How did you get here?

I’ll have to ask her. Tribunal rose up and with a thought transported himself to the chair at God’s right hand in Heaven. God did not notice his return, any more than he had noticed Tribunal leaving. God was completely lost in illusion and Tribunal was very happy about that.

He rose up at once and walked down the long steps. There was plenty of time, still, before Arcana arrived.

Arcana, her eyes shut and all her mind and energy focused on God, flew up in the warm, gentle light of His presence.

Hell was easy to reach. One fell. Heaven was the opposite. An Angel had to strip away all worldly thoughts and care, no matter how pressing, and think of nothing but God. To do otherwise was to find oneself gently slipping backward toward the Earth. It happened many times and was always a source of much laughter and gentle chiding among the Angels.

This time, there would be no laughter. Arcana would not—could not—allow herself to slip back. There would be no second chance. If she fell, the Gates would not open for her again. The power that blocked the Gate was too great to penetrate a second time. So even as the thoughts of what would happen if she failed attempted to rise up in her head, Arcana pushed them away, focusing only on God’s great love, the love she had for him, and her desperate desire to see him. Slowly, with great effort, she rose higher and higher. Above her, the light grew indescribably bright until it would have blinded any living mortal’s eye.

Then she was floating in the sky, looking at the true Gates of Heaven. The Earth was a ball of blue far below her. Arcana smiled as she floated forward, and one foot touched the soil of Heaven. An enormous feeling of well-being swelled in her, driving away all the cares of the mortal world. The struggle for life and death happening on the Earth felt like nothing. This was Heaven, and there was nothing here but peace and God’s love, and the knowledge that all one’s journeys had come to an end.

It wasn’t true for Angels, of course, but all mortals, whose souls came here, felt the same sense of joy and wonder. It was a relief and a respite from their lives on Earth. For the Angels, it was a reminder of where they truly belonged. Arcana breathed the air of Heaven for the first time in a thousand years, and it was pure and sweet and wonderful.

Her other foot landed on the soil of Heaven, and with confident, easy strides she went through the Gate. She was home. She let the armor on her body fade and change into a long white dress, reminiscent of the ones she had seen in Italy on her travels on Earth. For the first time in a thousand years, Arcana felt a sense of peace.

And even if it wasn’t going to last, it felt very, very good.

But now that I’m here, I need to see God. Fast. If she could go straight to God and see him, everything would be all right again. God would listen, Tribunal would be stopped, and Creation would not be unmade.

Arcana stepped through the Gate and nodded at the Angel who was standing there.

Except it wasn’t an Angel. Arcana froze in horror.

“Hello, Arcana,” said Tribunal with a smile. “Welcome home.”

The catacombs beneath Rome were greater than the humans knew.

The humans had dug a hundred miles of tunnels for the bones of their ancestors. The cleverly made tunnels were brick and stone and designed for the ages. But they were only the beginning. Old villas, long since buried beneath new construction, created their own mini-caves where the original frescoes, protected from the ravages of sunlight and wind, could still be seen. Tunnels dug by slaves and Christians and pagans alike, hiding from persecution at various times, added to the labyrinth. Water had also carved paths that led deep into the Earth.

And through this maze of darkness Nyx was hunted and hunter in turns.

She and Persephone had split up as soon as they’d come into the catacombs. They had been here before during their times in Rome, and each knew the place perfectly.

The Descended that followed did not.

At first, the Descended had rushed into the tunnels and into battle. Nyx, with walls to protect her flanks, and endless darkness to retreat into, dispatched three in the first moments. Persephone accounted for two more. Then they had split, running into the darkness, changing shape and size to avoid detection. The Descended shone in Nyx and Persephone’s minds like beacons. They could see exactly where each was. But thanks to Epiphenia, the Descended could only guess and chase after Nyx and Persephone.

It was not a game of cat and mouse; it was two lethal cats fighting a pack of vicious rats.

And so far, the cats were winning.

Pesado stood at the front of his squad, listening.

He was tall even for an Angel, and the catacombs forced him to bend and crouch, which made him angry. The fact that he only had seven of his original squad left made him even angrier. That two survivors from Berith’s squad had also joined him, and two from Sonneilon’s squad, did not improve his mood in the slightest, because it meant that his friends were gone—blown into dust which would never recover its form again.

Pesado’s red armor, which normally repaired itself over time, was scored in a half-dozen places by Nyx’s attacks. She had nearly killed him before the others managed to drive her off.

Around him, Pesado could hear water dripping and, somewhere deeper, flowing. There were rats and cats and mice and snakes and bats, and a myriad of insects moving in the tunnels. Miles away he could hear Gressil and the nine Descended that followed her—five of her own, one of Sonneilon’s and three of Verrine’s—hunting.

Verrine had told his squad to fend for themselves and had gone off hunting alone. Cocky bastard.

Movement, sent one of her squad. Two tunnels away. Coming fast.

Get ready!

They could hear footsteps rushing toward them; hear the air singing off the drawn blade the runner was carrying. They tensed, all knowing how good a fighter Nyx was and know- ing that in these cramped quarters their numbers would hinder as much as help.

The running came closer and closer, and around the corner of the tunnel came…

Nothing.

Nyx’s whip wrapped tight around Pesado’s neck from behind, cutting off any sound he could make before her sword, transformed into a short, deadly thrusting blade, punched a half-dozen holes through his armor from behind.

It’s an…was all he managed to send before the blade found his heart and he exploded into silver dust. The other Descended swung around, away from the illusion Nyx had sent, and screamed their battle cries as Nyx cut through their numbers like a black scythe, leaving severed limbs and hacked-open heads and two more piles of silver dust before she vanished into the dark tunnels once more.

Michael landed in time to see Arcana freeze in front of Tribunal. God’s Son was smiling at her, and Arcana was terrified.

“Welcome back,” said Tribunal. “What took so long?”

“The Gate was blocked,” said Arcana. “But today it opened enough for me to get through and I have returned.”

“And how did you unblock it?”

“I didn’t,” said Arcana. Angels could not lie, but Arcana had no intention of telling Tribunal what had happened. “I must report to God all that I have seen in my time on Earth,” she said instead. She went to walk past Tribunal, and he caught her arm.

“You can report to me instead,” he said.

“I cannot,” said Arcana. “Please let me go.”

“I think not,” said Tribunal. “I think, instead, you will come with me and tell me everything that has happened.” He looked over his shoulder. “And I think that you, Michael, will go back on patrol. NOW.”

The command in Tribunal’s voice was near-irresistible. Tribunal was part of God and spoke with the authority appropriate to that station. He was God’s Son and God’s right hand.

But he was not God.

“I think not,” said Michael, though he had to force the words out through ground-together teeth. “I think you should let Arcana go, and I think that you should let her go speak to God.” His face blazed with effort and with fury at what was being done to him.

Tribunal’s left eyebrow went up. “You do, do you?” He squeezed Arcana’s arm tighter, hoping to elicit a cry of pain. Arcana’s face stayed neutral. “A pity that I’m not going to, Michael. You see, God isn’t paying attention to the Gates or anything that happens around them. And soon, God isn’t going to be paying attention to anything. Ever. And don’t even think of drawing your sword here,” added Tribunal, his words freezing Michael’s hand in place before the Angel could move it further. “Do you really think you can do anything against me now, Michael?”

“I can try,” said Michael, his eyes like flames.

“You will fail. Now go stand at the Gate and invite the souls in like a good little slave,” said Tribunal, dropping even more power into his voice, and this time Michael could not resist the command. “And as for you, my dear…” Tribunal waved his hand. Arcana’s dress disappeared, leaving her naked. Her long, tightly-bound hair pulled suddenly free, and her white wings spread wide as if grabbed at the ends and pulled. Her expression did not change. “You and I will go and discuss your behavior these last few years.”

Tribunal and Arcana vanished. Michael walked forward and took Tribunal’s place at the Gates. He would be there, he knew, until Tribunal released him or God called him. And given what had just happened, Michael began to believe that Tribunal was right. God was no longer paying attention.

Michael felt tears rolling down his face as he welcomed the souls into Heaven. And silently, fervently, he began to pray in the hopes that God would awaken and answer. O, my Father, he thought. Why hast thou deserted me?

Far below, hanging in the sky outside the outer Gates of Heaven, Epiphenia felt her own tears starting. She folded her wings and let herself fall to the Earth

Verrine was not tall, as Angels went, but squat and solid, as if all the iron for a twenty-foot statue of a god of athletes was squashed down into his six-foot frame. He was a hunter by nature, and a good one, even by the standards of Hell. His greatest joy was to mark a demon, give it a five-year head start, and then track it until he found it and took its head. He had hunted thousands of demons, hundreds of souls, and at least a dozen Descended—some on bets, some at the behest of Lucifer.

Nyx and Persephone had figured out how to conceal their Angelic presence, but that was fine as far as Verrine was concerned. He hunted by scent. He knew the scents of Nyx and Persephone, both from eons in Hell, and from the battles they’d had since the Descended had come to Earth.

He ducked and squeezed his way through the catacombs, listening and moving as silently as only an Angel could. He could sense his brethren moving through the catacombs. They were staying in groups, hoping to better defend themselves. So far it hadn’t worked. Six more of the Descended were dead now—four of the ones that had been after Nyx, two of the ones after Persephone. Only seventeen of the original fifty were left from their fights with the two.

At least Arcana is gone, thought Verrine. That one fights as well as Nyx. The two of them together could probably kill the rest of us.

There was a whimpering noise in the catacomb ahead. Not the sound an Angel would make, but the sound of a human, scared and alone. Verrine crept forward, his feet noiseless on the worn stones of the tunnel floor. He peered around the corner, his Descended eyes easily piercing the gloom.

The girl was young, just into womanhood, with firm, pert breasts poking out against the thin, ripped, white muslin of the short shift that was her only clothing. Her legs were long and bare, and the shift only barely covered what was between them. Her brown hair fell in messy tangles on her shoulders, and there was a smudge of dirt on her face. She had pushed herself back against a wall in the little chamber she was in. Her brown eyes were wide with terror as she stared, unseeing, into the darkness. “Who… who’s there? Help me!”

Verrine stepped through the opening.

“Please…” the girl begged. “Please. Help me find my way out. Please!”

A scream of Angelic pain ripped through the catacombs as another of the Descended was gutted and turned to dust. The girl shrieked in fright and scrabbled backward, trying to find a place to hide where there were no hiding places.

“Oh God, oh God…” The girl moaned. “Please. I know you’re there. Please get me out. I’ll… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Now and when we get out. Please…” She stared desperately into the darkness. Her body trembled as she slowly parted her legs. “Please.”

“Nice performance, Persephone,” said Verrine.

Persephone pouted, and the innocent little girl act vanished entirely. “You had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

Another scream as another Descended was turned to dust.

“Sixteen left,” said Persephone. She flowed up to her feet, not bothering to change her form. Her sword and whip appeared in her hands. “I was really hoping I could get laid before I killed you.”

Verrine blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had an Angel—a male Angel?” she clarified. “It’s been a long, long time. I could have really used that.”

Verrine grinned. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, you’re not,” said Persephone, pouting again. “If you were really sorry, you’d prove it by killing your brethren and joining me and Nyx. We’re going to destroy Lucifer.”

“Not from where I’m standing.”

“Where you’re standing,” purred Persephone, “is in your grave, unless you join us.”

Verrine’s grin widened. “Try me.”

In a place outside of God’s universe, Arcana hung, naked, suspended by invisible bonds that secured her to the void as tightly as any chains would secure a mortal to a wall. Her wings had been pulled off as easily as the wings of a fly, leaving bloody, gaping wounds in her back. As a loyal Angel, fighting on the side of God, she had never known such pain.

Tribunal ran an appreciative hand over Arcana’s body, lingering on her breasts before slipping down and around to cup the curve of her ass. She was taller than he, especially suspended off the ground. He smiled up at her expressionless face. “It must be difficult for you,” he said, “knowing that you will be turned into nothingness.”

Arcana didn’t answer. Nothingness didn’t bother her as much as knowing this insect might win. Tribunal smiled at her. “You will have to tell me about what happened on Earth,” he said. “Eventually. There is no hurry anymore. I have just about hidden the last of Earth from God’s sight, and when that happens I will unleash the armies of Hell upon the planet, and watch as they kill all those disgusting humans that God so loves.”

He sat down and waved a hand. A model of Creation floated in the air before him: Heaven, Hell and the mortal universe in the middle. It was so full of detail they could have almost been staring into Creation itself.

“You see it?” Tribunal asked. “This is all of God’s Creation. And right now, he isn’t aware of most of it.” He waved his hand again and a thin mesh of darkness coated Creation. There were a few small patches in it where the light of Creation still shone through, but for the most part it was covered. “See?” said Tribunal. “These patches are all that God is actually seeing of Heaven, Earth and Hell. And when they are covered, God will be blind to the workings of the universe.” His smile grew wide and maniacal. “And when that happens, I will make all of Creation go away, and God with it.” He laughed; there was such power in it, it made her shiver. How could a God of goodness have sired this abomination? Tribunal looked away from his model. “And now, my dear, I must attend to this for a time. But don’t worry. I’ll be sure to keep you amused. I can do that, now. Because all the power that is in God is in me.”

Arcana began screaming a moment later. Tribunal smiled and turned his attention back to finishing the black mesh covering Hell and Earth. Once that was done, it would be time. And meanwhile, the sounds of agony and despair from Arcana made a delightful accompaniment to the work.

Deep in the catacombs below Rome, the nine remaining Descended crouched together in a large, low-ceilinged cavern. There was no way out save for the door they had been driven through when they were herded into the room. Their swords and whips were at the ready, and their eyes were on the entrance.

On the other side, just out of sight of the tunnel, Persephone and Nyx leaned against the wall. Persephone was grinning. “And you said this wasn’t going to be any fun.”

“No,” corrected Nyx. “I said this was going to be a waste of time.”

Persephone looked down the hallway. “Straight in at them?”

“Unless you have a better idea.”

There was a sudden rumble and the grating of stone on stone, and the room before them vanished under the weight of the stone above it. A puff of displaced air and dust flew down the hallway at the two of them. The Descended inside didn’t even have time to scream or call out for help before they were flattened into paste by the weight that landed on them.

“Well,” said Persephone, “we could always do that.”

Mother, sent Epiphenia, Arcana has been taken by Tribunal.

Nyx stood, stunned at the news. She stared at the rock wall before her where the room full of Angels had once been.

“Fuck,” said Persephone. “Now what?”

Nyx kept staring.

“Nyx? What do we do now?”

Mother?

“What we do now,” said Nyx, “is get the fuck out of here. And then we make a plan because there is no way I am letting that bastard Tribunal win this.”

The pain that had wracked Arcana’s body and mind suddenly vanished. Her eyes slowly cleared until she saw that she was still hanging in the void, still unable to move. She was still in pain. Every inch of skin, every muscle, every bone and every orifice felt as though it had been violated and abused beyond belief. She looked down, certain she would find skin missing from her body, and broken bones protruding from torn muscles.

Her skin was whole, save that her wings were still gone.

“Back, are you?” asked Tribunal. “Good.” He rose from where he had been sitting and with a gesture, released her bonds. Arcana fell into a heap on the ground. Her limbs had no strength in them. “The coverage of Earth is complete. God sees nothing. Come here.”

Arcana started crawling forward. She tried to fight it, tried to will herself to stay still, but she could not. Tribunal’s power was too great. She crawled until she was sitting at his feet.

“I’m going to journey to Hell now,” said Tribunal, “to tell Lucifer to unleash his armies on the Earth. And if God does not react to that, then I shall know the Earth is truly hidden. And then, my dear, I will go to Earth myself, and I will bring an end to all Creation.” The hunger in his voice made Arcana nauseous. His smile was half-crazed, and his eyes flashed with a deep insanity that frightened Arcana to her core. He smiled at her. “Have you ever been to Hell?”

“No, Tribunal.” The words slipped out of Arcana’s mouth before she could stop them. He had made her speak, she was sure.

“Then you should visit with me,” said Tribunal.

“God does not allow the Heavenly Host to visit Hell,” said Arcana, and once more she felt as if her thoughts were being forced into words and torn from her. “He will know.”

“He will know nothing,” said Tribunal. “Because he cannot see what is happening. He can only see the illusions I have spun for him.” He frowned. “That said, bringing all of you along would be cumbersome.”

Tribunal reached out with one hand and tore Arcana’s head from her shoulders. She didn’t have time to make a sound. Tribunal held her head up and looked into her still-comprehending eyes. “Much better.”

With a smile on his face, he opened a hole in the base of his world between worlds and let himself fall the long drop to Hell.

Chapter 12

NYX TOOK THEM to her place deep in the Earth. She had built it centuries before as a place to go for solitude, and as a way to contact Tribunal. It had been here that she had cast the spell that took her to Tribunal in Sheol. And the sight of it again, even after all the years of suffering and misery in between, brought back the wild feelings of pas- sion and joy that she had experienced in his presence back then. It also brought back the memory of power—his power, poured into her in an exchange of spiritual energy more intimate than any sex could ever be.

Nyx clamped down hard on the feelings. Tribunal had programmed her to have them, and there was no way she would give in to them again.

I wish I had a tenth of that power now, thought Nyx as she brought the other two into the magic circle she had created—was it a hundred years ago? Two hundred? I can’t remember now.

Persephone looked down at symbols carved between the lines of white marble that Nyx had inlaid in the floor and named the languages. “Elamite, Hurrian, Akkadian. Impressive. When did you do this?”

“I don’t remember anymore,” said Nyx. She stepped into the circle and sat down. For all three of them to sit inside the circle, their legs had to be interlinked, their feet wrapped around each other’s backs, their arms around each other. Nyx found herself taking comfort from the intimacy. Persephone, her friend and lover throughout the eons, and Epiphenia, her daughter, were the only two on this world who cared the slightest if she lived or died.

Pity we don’t have Arcana with us, she thought. Or Ishtar.

Her heart sank a bit at the thought of Ishtar, but the grief was quickly replaced with rage. For Ishtar to betray them like that…

Is completely like Ishtar, Nyx thought. Stupid bitch.

“Well, we’re here,” said Persephone. “Now what?”

“Now,” said Nyx, pulling out of her reverie. “We make sure no one can hear us.”

She reached down to either side and poured her power into the circle. The symbols lit up and glowed red. Slowly a dome of power covered the three of them, blocking their presence from all things, even God. Persephone watched a moment and then added her power to the circle. Epiphenia did the same a moment later. The dome of power completed itself, and the three Angels were hidden from all beings in the Universe, including God and Tribunal.

“It’s done,” said Nyx.

“Good,” said Persephone. “Now what?”

“Now we need to stop Tribunal.” Nyx paused, hoping an idea would come to mind. God’s Son and God’s Self. How does he hide so well? But then, she had always suspected God had stretched himself a bit thin with the creation of the universe. He had worked to the very edge of divine power, and wasn’t that dangerous? But even asking such questions—as God’s creation—felt foolish. How could she know his limits? But Tribunal did. Or thought he did. Possibly, he was wrong. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“I felt Tribunal’s power when I was waiting for Arcana to reach Heaven,” said Epiphenia. “None of us can match it. All of us together can’t match it.”

“Can he die?” asked Persephone. “Like from a sneak attack from behind maybe?”

“I don’t know,” said Epiphenia. “You might destroy his physical form, but he’s an incarnation of God, so I imagine it would be very hard to actually kill him.”

“Plus, he’s not here,” said Nyx. “We’d have to get close to him to kill him and as long as he’s in Heaven we can’t do that.”

The three sat, despondent. At last Epiphenia said, “There is no way to stop him, is there?”

“There has to be,” said Nyx. “We can’t let him destroy the Earth.” She realized at that moment that even if she had a paradise of her own—safe and beautiful, full of sexy angels— she would not want to lose Earth. She held her friend and daughter close. “So what will his next steps be?”

In the orgy chamber in Nyx’s throne room, Ishtar sighed and lay back as the last ripples of pleasure passed through her. The three Angels who had been servicing her—all lieutenants in the 666th Legion—rose from the bed and stood at attention, awaiting new orders. She smiled at them. “You all get to keep your jobs for the time being,” she said. An aftershock ran through her body, sending delicious waves of pleasure through her. “And we will definitely have to do that again.”

Ishtar looked over to Lucifer. He had five male souls—rapists, murderers and thieves when they were alive—bent over a rail, their hands tied to their feet, their genitals immersed in bowls of Hellfire. Lucifer alternated randomly between whipping them and violating them while demons danced around them, pinching and biting. The souls screamed in agony.

Ishtar shook her head; Lucifer was still all about the sex. There were far worse things he could do to them, but his pleasure was always his first concern.

It was also a domination tactic, of course, like one dog humping another.

Ishtar had asked around and discovered that there was no officer in the 666th who hadn’t been in the exact same position since Lucifer’s rise to power. Humiliation was part of being in Lucifer’s service. He demanded total subservience and knew that the more brutal he was to his commanders, the more brutally they would drive their soldiers. And so he brutalized them all every chance he had.

It’s still really boring, thought Ishtar. She looked over her lieutenants. One of the males was especially outsized for his shape, and Ishtar appreciated such things. She was about to call him over again when a blinding light filled the room. The power and the majesty of it drove all the Angels in the room to their knees and made the souls cry out in pain as it burned through them.

When it faded, Tribunal was standing in the throne room. Ishtar blinked to clear the last of the spots from her eyes and saw Arcana’s head, still alive, hanging on Tribunal’s belt. The sight of it made Ishtar smile. Arcana’s eyes moved as she took in the room. A look of distaste came over her face at the sight of the burning, abused souls bent over the rail.

“Lucifer,” said Tribunal. “I thought I put you in the Lake.”

“You did,” said Lucifer. “I got out.”

Lucifer started to rise and felt the incredible weight of Tribunal’s will push him back down. Lucifer gritted his teeth and strained against it. Inch by inch, he rose taller and taller. Tribunal’s power was still bearing down on him, but it seemed less than it had been before.

Of course, he’s not focusing all his power on me this time, thought Lucifer.

It took a long time for Lucifer to rise all the way to his feet, and it hurt. He did it anyway. Lucifer had no intention of facing Tribunal on his knees. Tribunal was more powerful, but Lucifer was still a partner in this deal and was determined to be treated like one.

When he reached his full height and was staring at the smiling, contempt-filled face of Tribunal, he said, “What do you want here?”

Tribunal smiled. “Have I interrupted your amusements, Lucifer?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer, still straining under the weight of Tribunal’s power. “What do you want?”

“It is time,” said Tribunal. “Time for you to unleash the armies of Hell onto Earth.”

Lucifer smiled. “Good. I’ll send up the 666th at once.”

Tribunal’s eyebrow went up a fraction of an inch. “You’ll send them all up at once.”

“No,” said Lucifer. “I won’t.”

“You’ll do what I tell you,” said Tribunal, stepping closer. “Or I’ll blast you out of existence.”

“No, you won’t,” said Lucifer. “You can’t, now.” He gestured at the other Angels in the room. “They’ve already seen Nyx destroyed. And they all know the deal we have cut. If they see that you are betraying that deal, how much cooperation do you think you’ll get? How many Angels will you have rising to the surface instead of running off to the edges of Hell?”

Tribunal stepped closer to Lucifer. Despite Lucifer’s massive size, it was Tribunal who looked the most threatening. He didn’t raise his voice when he said, “I can compel them.”

“All of them?” countered Lucifer. “Can you control them all and still maintain the net you spun around God, Heaven, Earth, and Hell? Because I doubt it.”

Tribunal glared at Lucifer. Ishtar could see the sweat breaking out on the big Angel’s forehead. At last, Tribunal said, “Then what do you propose?”

“I send the 666th,” said Lucifer. “They establish a beachhead and start the killing. If they go unchallenged, then we send up the rest and lay waste to the entire world.”

“Not lay waste to it,” said Tribunal. “Kill the humans, scatter their animals, destroy their cities. Leave the rest of the world alone.”

“In case God sees through your illusion?”

“Yes,” said Tribunal. “And make sure your legion is more successful at killing humans than your squads were at killing Nyx.”

“They will kill her,” said Lucifer with confidence he didn’t feel.

“They are dead,” said Tribunal. “The last of them died under Rome when Nyx dropped half the city on their heads.”

That’s Nyx, all right, thought Ishtar. Pity she chose the wrong side. Stupid bitch.

“Unfortunate,” said Lucifer. His expression didn’t change at all, but Ishtar could feel the anger radiating from him. “They must have overestimated their abilities.”

“You overestimated their abilities,” said Tribunal.

“You’re the one who said I could only send fifty after them.”

“Because I thought it would be enough,” snapped Tribunal. “I thought that you Descended would be competent enough to dispatch one of your own without sending an entire legion. But apparently, I was wrong!”

“Well, this time, I’m dispatching a legion,” said Lucifer. “And this time the bitch will not be escaping at all.”

“This time,” said Tribunal, his voice cool and calm and very dangerous, “I will go to Earth and I will dispatch the bitch. You will prepare your legion. I want it on the surface by the time I return to Heaven.”

The light flared bright again, and Tribunal was gone. Lucifer stared at the spot where Tribunal had stood a moment longer. Then he turned and methodically smashed the bodies of each of the souls on the bar, ripping them in two with his hands, dashing their heads against the floor, and stomping on their flesh until there was nothing left but piles of blood and meat. When he was done, he grabbed Ishtar and fucked her on top of the remains.

Ishtar waited until he was finished, then said, “Shall I call out the legion?”

“Yes,” said Lucifer. “And anyone who is slow can spend the next thousand years in the Lake.”

Ishtar straightened up and walked out of the room, wincing with each step. “As you wish, my Dread Lord.” She snapped her fingers, and her lieutenants followed in her footsteps. And when I am done with Nyx and the humans, I will be coming after you.

“If we aren’t powerful enough to stop Tribunal,” said Nyx, “who is?”

“God,” said Persephone.

“Maybe,” said Epiphenia. “But from what I’ve seen, God doesn’t know what’s going on. Tribunal has hidden Creation from him.”

“Then someone has to tell him,” said Nyx.

“Arcana tried,” said Persephone. “Look how well that worked out.”

“Michael tried,” said Epiphenia. “With a half-million Angels. Tribunal stopped them all.”

“Shit,” said Nyx. “Shit, fuck, piss, and bugger them all.” Her eyes glowed fiery red in the darkness as she contemplated what she would do to Tribunal if she ever had him under her control. She thought hard about it. “What would happen if Tribunal left Heaven? Would we be able to reach God then?”

“Maybe,” said Epiphenia. “It depends whether we can break through the barrier.”

“Which we can’t do unless he’s distracted,” said Nyx, as much to herself as to the others. “So what would distract him?”

“Having all his plans go to pieces?” suggested Persephone.

“Which would be easier to do if we knew his plans.”

“But we don’t,” said Persephone. “So what do we do?”

Nyx frowned and thought, and eventually sighed. “We wait.” She looked around the room. The dome of power did not block her view of the room, though she could see it shimmering. Tentatively, Nyx tried to send out her mind to feel the world, but it bounced off the dome. She frowned. “Epiphenia, can you feel the world?”

“Of course,” said Epiphenia. “I can feel all of the world, all the time.”

“Really?” Persephone said. She reached out with her mind and was blocked. “I can’t.”

“You’re made of the stuff of Heaven,” said Epiphenia. “I’m made of the stuff of the world, and I can feel it even here.”

“Then we wait here,” said Nyx. “You listen to Creation and watch for signs of Tribunal and we…” She looked at Persephone, who shrugged. “We will wait. We know how to do that.”

Tribunal appeared in Rome, just for the fun of it. He had not walked in the Eternal City in his human life. It was filled with squalor and pain and the hatred humans had for one another. Even in the churches dedicated to Jesus, he could sense humans praying for the death of their enemies or the ruination of their neighbors or worse. He let his senses wander through the city. There were places where women and their daughters stood side-by-side, selling their bodies for what coin they could earn. There were others where boys did the same, and greedy, rich men and women took a portion of the money and left their charges desperate and on the edge of starvation.

He walked down the street, fascinated and repulsed. Humanity, for all it had learned new ways to build and to write and to kill, had not changed since he had last been there.

“Spare some change, sir? Please?” asked a young boy, whose face was scarred by disease and covered in dirt. “Please, sir, my father is too sick even to beg.” He pointed to a man wrapped in a filthy cloak, shivering in a doorway. “Please, sir, he needs medicine.”

Tribunal reached out his senses. The man had gonorrhea, tuberculosis, and pneumonia. He would be dead in a matter of weeks. “Medicine won’t help,” said Tribunal. “He’s dying.”

“No, sir! Please, sir! I’ll do whatever you like, sir! Just please spare a little money for us?”

Tribunal stared at the child a moment, and then waved a hand at the boy’s father. The man screamed and convulsed, his body flailing as the organs inside him ruptured and turned to liquid. The boy ran over to him, screaming his father’s name and calling for help. Tribunal watched in amusement as the man’s flailing limbs caught his son on the face and knocked the boy over. A moment later the man died. Tribunal smiled as the man’s soul sunk down toward Hell.

“Problem solved,” said Tribunal. He looked down at Arcana’s head and turned the eyes to face him. Arcana was glaring. “They’ll all be dead in a matter of days, anyway,” said Tribunal. “His was probably a better end than the boy will have at the hands of the Descended.”

He left the boy crying at the feet of his dead father and transported himself to the remains of the Coliseum. He sat down on the top of the wall, chuckling as Arcana’s head, tied to his belt by its long hair, bounced against the stone. He set it facing the city. Then Tribunal closed his eyes and began searching for Nyx.

“He’s here,” said Epiphenia, bringing both Nyx and Persephone out of their trances. “Tribunal is on Earth.”

“He is?”

“In Rome,” said Epiphenia. She squinted slightly as if looking at something far away. “Searching for you.”

“And?” asked Nyx. “Can he see us?”

Epiphenia continued squinting at the vision only she could see. “I don’t think so.”

“Can we try to reach Heaven?” asked Persephone. “Now while he’s busy?”

Nyx shook her head. “He’ll catch us as soon as we leave here and kill us both.”

“Wait,” said Epiphenia. “There’s someone with him…”

Where is that bitch? Tribunal wondered. He concentrated harder. He could sense where she had been. He could feel the places where her Angelic blood had fallen, though they were several hundred miles away. He could see the dust of her victims. He could sense the ichor and dust, all that was left of the nine Descended, buried beneath the streets of Rome.

But nowhere could he find Nyx or Persephone.

Frustrated, Tribunal rose into the air. Maybe the bitch is dead.

He scanned the world with every sense, reached out with his mind to the farthest corners of the world and still found nothing.

And while he did that, Epiphenia reached out. “Arcana?”

Arcana’s head would have twisted around on her neck in surprise, had it not been hanging from Tribunal’s belt. As it was, her eyes bulged and darted around. “Epiphenia!” she sent. “Get out of here!”

“I am safe,” Epiphenia sent back. “We are safe.”

“Open your mind,” said Arcana. “There’s no time for talking. He may notice any second now.”

She felt Epiphenia open her mind, and Arcana poured into her everything that had happened after her attempt to reach Heaven. She could feel Epiphenia’s sorrow at what had happened to her. “Don’t be sorry for me,” Arcana snapped. “Avenge me. STOP HIM!”

“And what are we talking about, my little Angel?” asked Tribunal. “And who are we talking to?”

Epiphenia’s presence vanished, and Arcana was engulfed in pain. She could feel tortures and abuses all over her body—even though she didn’t have one anymore. She could hear Tribunal chuckling in pleasure as her mouth opened in a long, silent scream. Desperately, she closed off the one small part of her mind that held the conversation. Tribunal ruthlessly rooted through the rest of her memories, tearing them out and throwing them away, threatening to leave her with nothing but a blank, empty space where eons of years in Heaven had once been. The pain she was feeling grew more and more intense. Tribunal hammered against the barriers in her mind, adding a new, deeper level of agony she had never felt before.

Still she kept the walls of her mind firmly shut around the memory of the conversation. She would not last long, she knew, but maybe she could last long enough.

Deep in the Earth, in the dome of power that kept them hidden, Epiphenia opened her mind to Persephone and Nyx, sharing all that had been. Both Descended soon wore expressions as grim as her own.

“Well,” said Persephone. “Now we know he’s not going to destroy Creation until most of the humans are killed, in case God notices what’s happening.”

“And we know Lucifer won’t commit the full force of Hell until he’s sure God won’t punish them all,” said Nyx. She bit her lip, and her eyes unfocused, and she thought about it. There just might be a way…

“And that Ishtar is leading the first wave of Descended,” said Persephone. “I want to kill her. Can I?”

“As soon as Tribunal is sure God is distracted, he will come to Earth and wipe out all of Creation.”

“Does he really have that kind of power?” asked Persephone.

Epiphenia nodded. “He does.”

“Fuck.”

“Yes.”

“I think,” said Nyx, then she stopped. “No. We can’t. None of us can get into Heaven.”

“Why not?” asked Epiphenia. “Why can’t you go into Heaven?”

“It’s forbidden,” said Nyx. “When God cast us out and sent us to Hell, he declared that all Descended Angels were forbidden Heaven for all eternity. That for any of us to set foot on Heaven’s soil was to blaspheme against all that was good and holy, to go against God’s law. The offender would face God’s wrath and be unmade.”

Epiphenia tilted her head. “Is Heaven’s Gate closed to you, then? Or are you just forbidden?”

“I…” Nyx stopped and thought about it. “He said nothing about the Gate being closed.”

“He said that if we were to touch a foot onto Heaven’s soil, we’d be unmade,” said Persephone. “That’s close enough.”

“But that means that we could set foot on Heaven’s soil,” said Nyx.

“If we want to be instantly unmade,” said Persephone.

“You’re going to be unmade anyway if Tribunal gets his way,” said Epiphenia.

“I don’t want to be unmade,” said Persephone. “It would hurt.”

“He didn’t say we would be instantly unmade,” said Nyx. “He said we would face the wrath of God and be unmade.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t,” said Nyx. “In order to face the wrath of God, God has to come to you. He has to pay attention. There may be a chance to speak. ”

Persephone whistled. “That is a dangerous game you want to play.”

“It is,” agreed Nyx.

“You’re willing to face being unmade?” Nyx knew what Persephone meant. She was facing that anyway, but facing it by choice, not fighting…was different. Nyx had seen thousands of humans sacrifice themselves for their families or their causes over the years and had never had a clue what would impel someone to do that. She had assumed that since they were mortal anyway, it just didn’t matter as much to them…. She saw it otherwise now. She felt an immense sadness, remembering her eons of life, of pleasure and awareness and power. To give it all up… no, she didn’t want to. Not at all.

“Yes,” she said. “I am willing. The question is how do we get it to work?” Epiphenia beamed at her and Nyx had the uncomfortable sense that her daughter was proud.

“Tribunal can’t be in Heaven,” said Persephone. “Or he’ll stop you.”

“And he can’t have enough spare power to block the Gates,” said Epiphenia. “Or you won’t get through.”

“Which means we need to have him either on Earth or in Hell,” said Nyx.

“Earth,” said Epiphenia. “On Earth I can fight against him.”

“You said you can’t beat him,” said Nyx.

“I can’t,” said Epiphenia. “But I can buy time. He isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

“What if the Descended don’t arrive?” asked Nyx. “What if the Descended remain in Hell?”

“They won’t,” said Persephone. “The 666th is already on its way.”

“I can stop the 666th,” said Epiphenia.

Persephone’s eyebrows went up. “You can stop five thousand Descended Angels armed to the teeth and out for blood?”

“Yes.”

Both Nyx and Persephone stared at Epiphenia. She looked back impassively. Quietly, Nyx said, “Are you really that powerful, Daughter?”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t stop Tribunal,” said Persephone.

“No.”

Persephone whistled and sat back.

“If you can stop the 666th,” said Nyx, “we can stop the others.”

“How?” demanded Persephone.

Nyx grinned. “We keep them busy.”

Persephone looked wary. “Again I ask, how?”

“With a war,” said Nyx. “It’s been far too long since there was a war in Hell, don’t you think?”

Persephone grinned back. “Oh, yes. Yes, it has.” She looked at Epiphenia. “Try to keep Ishtar alive until we get back.”

“Don’t smile yet,” said Nyx. We’re going to go back in the way we came out.”

Persephone’s smile dropped. “I hate you. Passionately.”

Nyx’s grin grew wider. “I know.”

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as we can do it without Tribunal seeing us.”

In Hell, Ishtar stood in front of five thousand Descended, staring up at the sky above the Lake of Fire. Lucifer hovered there, looking down at them all. His sneer was identical to the one he wore the last time Ishtar was there, a thousand years before. Then, Lucifer had made the Descended fight for the right to be with Nyx on Earth, and had planned for Descended loyal to himself to reach it. Instead, it had been Persephone and Ishtar.

My, how things change, thought Ishtar.

“Legion!” Lucifer’s voice rolled out over Hell. “Stand ready!”

The legion roared in response.

“Today we take back what is ours!” shouted Lucifer. “Today the Earth once more becomes our plaything! And when we are done with it, we shall have a new Paradise to call our own!” The legion roared louder, and Lucifer smiled down on them. “You are our Vanguard; our beachhead onto the Earth. And behind you shall come all those in Hell loyal to me! Together, we shall wipe out humanity and free ourselves from Hell!” Lucifer’s whip lashed skyward, and the crack of it echoed through Hell. A huge gaping hole was torn in the sky. “Go forth, and destroy the humans!”

“Charge!” screamed Ishtar as she flew up. “To Earth, to glory, and to Paradise!”

Five thousand Descended roared and leapt skyward, following her into the hole in the sky.

Tribunal glared down at Arcana’s head. The eyes were squeezed tight shut, and the mouth twisted in agony. Still he had not broken through her barriers. He considered applying more power, then shrugged it off.

So what if Nyx is still out there? She is nothing more than an Angel now, and a Descended one at that. She has no special powers, and she is banned from Heaven. There is nothing she can do. Tribunal briefly considered stopping the tortures he was inflicting on Arcana, but didn’t. Let her learn what it is to disobey me.

He looked over Rome once more, then, with a thought, vanished from the Earth.

“He’s gone,” said Epiphenia.

“Good,” said Nyx. With a thought, she broke the barrier that surrounded them and rose to her feet. She pulled her whip from her belt and cracked it against the floor. A tear in the fabric of the universe opened up, revealing a long dark spiral that would take them back down to Hell. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 13

ISHTAR CLAWED HER way up the sides of the pit, her finger and toenails digging into the rock walls like steel spikes through wood. Below her she could hear the grunts of effort of the five thousand Angels who followed, and squabbles from those in the back. She grinned to herself. As they’d flown up, she’d told them that the last Angel through would get to spend a hundred years in the Lake of Fire. It had done wonders for keeping them moving.

Ishtar had picked the place for them to come out onto the earth. It was a teeming city in the mountains of Afghanistan. It had Christians, Muslims and Jews—all the people who claimed to follow God—living together in one place. Outside of Jerusalem, before the Christians arrived, it was one of the best places to test whether God was listening to the prayers of his people. Tribunal said God wasn’t.

But Tribunal isn’t the one who is going to risk his ass, Ishtar thought.

The thin light from the crack in the world above was growing steadily brighter. Now, when she looked up, Ishtar could see clouds, and the occasional bird that veered momentarily above the hole, only to pull away again as soon as it sensed what was below it.

It won’t be long now, thought Ishtar. First the humans. Then Nyx. Then I’ll see what I can do about Lucifer.

Above, on a slope looking over the crack that had appeared in the earth, Abdullah was running. He was in charge of his father’s flock, and things were going very badly since the crack in the meadow had opened. Two sheep had fallen, and the others had stampeded away. It had not been as it usually was with earthquakes. There had been no warning, no restlessness among the animals or silence among the birds and insects. Everything had been normal.

Then the crack had opened in the Earth and swallowed two of his sheep.

It would mean a beating, Abdullah thought woefully. A beating and his father would yell about how useless he was in front of the entire family. Then his father would complain about it in the market as well, Abdullah was sure. It wasn’t fair.

And even if he could claim it wasn’t his fault, he’d get a much worse beating if he allowed any more sheep to fall in, which was why he was running now.

Most of the sheep, stupid though they were, had sense enough to get away from the edge of the pit. Abdullah had spent most of the morning rounding them up from all sides and leading them to a small bowl between two peaks. It wasn’t the best grazing, but it would keep them safe.

There was one, though, that had eluded all efforts from Abdullah to claim it. A stupid young male who knew where the best grazing was, and it didn’t care in the slightest that a chasm had opened up in the middle of it. And so now Abdullah was racing down the mountainside, trying to catch the stupid beast before it wandered too close to the pit and fell in.

He had just about reached the pit when he heard a girl crying for help.

Allah, help me! Abdullah thought. He hadn’t seen anyone in the meadow. He ran to the chasm, stopping ten feet from the edge and dropping to his knees. He crawled to the sound of the voice until he reached the edge. There, just below him, was a girl, maybe a year younger than his own fourteen. Her headscarf and veil had been ripped away, and she was staring up at him with wide green eyes rimmed with dirt and tears. She was clinging to the grass on the edge of the pit.

“Please,” she begged. “Please, help me.”

Abdullah knelt down and grabbed one of the girl’s hands. “Use your legs,” he said. “Push yourself up! I’ll pull!”

He pulled as hard as he could, scrabbling in the dirt and grass as she rose higher and higher out of the pit. Then she stumbled forward, caught his shirt and fell over on top of him. The two sprawled back on the ground. Abdullah gasped for breath. The girl clung to him, her smaller body pushed hard against his. He was suddenly aware that her breasts were small and round and that the join of her thighs was right on top of his crotch. He felt himself stiffen at once. He swallowed and tried to sit up.

“No, don’t,” the girl said. “Not yet. Please. Please.” She put her mouth on his and kissed him. Abdullah’s eyes went wide with surprise. She smiled and started grinding her hips against him.

“Please, stop.” The pleasure was greater than anything he’d ever experienced, and Abdullah knew it was completely sinful. “What… what are you…?”

“I’m making your last moments happy,” said Ishtar, sitting up. “Because I’m nice like that. But since you don’t want me to…”

Abdullah’s shock turned to horror. The little girl was gone, replaced by a huge, naked woman with black-feathered wings and red eyes. Abdullah screamed and thrashed wildly, trying to get away. Beyond her, from the pit, he saw hundreds more of the creatures crawling onto the surface, then spreading their wings and leaping into the air, like so many grotesque red and black beetles taking flight.

Then Ishtar leaned over him, mouth wide and filled with jagged, razor-edged teeth. She clamped them down over his neck, and Abdullah’s world went black.

Ishtar rose to her feet and spat out the boy’s flesh as blood fountained out of the remains of his neck. “Gather together!” she shouted as she spread her wings and leapt into the air. “When everyone is out, we go! We all hit the city at once. Let’s see how fast we can turn it into ruins!”

Nyx’s wings snapped wide, arresting her fall. She heard Persephone’s wings do the same a moment later. Together they hovered in the black, reeking air above the Mother of All’s pit. Every demon in the massive room turned eyes toward them at once.

“Hear me, Mother of All!” commanded Nyx. “I require your services.”

“YOU WERE NOT TO COME BACK HERE,” said the massive creature below. “WE SAID NOT TO COME BACK!”

“What you said has no bearing,” replied Nyx. “I am Queen of Hell and you will obey me or be destroyed!”

The bloated, oozing lump of flesh quivered. Demons ripped and tore their way out of its body or were pushed out in a spurt of stinking pus. Nyx waited. At last the demon said. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“The Descended need to be taught a lesson,” said Nyx. “You will unleash your brethren on them across Hell.”

“THEY WILL BE DESTROYED!”

“Then you will make more of them,” said Nyx. “Your kind have been playthings for the Descended for eons. They have used you for sport, for sex, and for food. Millions of your children have died at their hands, and millions more will continue to die.”

“BECAUSE YOU COMMANDED IT!”

“Yes,” said Nyx. “And now, I’m commanding you to gain some small vengeance for your children. Or are your spawn so weak and powerless that they cannot even do that?”

The massive lump of vile flesh quivered even more. At last it demanded, “WHEN?”

“Now,” said Nyx. “Your brethren may attack any Descended that walks the surface of Hell or flies in the air above it.” Nyx grinned. “Excluding myself and Persephone, here. And when I return to you and tell you to stop, you will call them off, or I will order the Descended to cease torturing souls and spend the next thousand years killing demons until none of you are left.”

“I WILL OBEY.’

“Then do it,” said Nyx.

A ripple went through the mass of flesh that was the Mother of All. Then the room itself began to ripple, as if the Mother of All’s vibrations were flowing from it through the air to the walls and beyond. It spread through the area, making room, as if the air itself was moving. Every one of the thousand demons there raised its head and cocked it to the side, listening. Then they swarmed out of the chamber—running, scurrying, and flapping away from their mother in their eagerness to get out.

Nyx watched with approval as the room emptied. When the last one was gone, she turned to Persephone. “Right, this way.”

Nyx took off and flew out toward one of the tunnels. Persephone followed, calling, “This isn’t the way we got in.”

“Nope,” said Nyx. “This is the way to the Lake of Fire. There are a hundred Angels chained to the bottom of it, and we’re going to set them free. Figure they’ll make a good strike force.”

“They could have been there for a thousand years,” said Persephone as they landed at the tunnel mouth. Nyx began running up the tunnel. Persephone dogged her heels. “They’re probably insane!”

“And they’re all pissed off at Lucifer for putting them there,” Nyx called over her shoulder. “Can you think of a better group to set on him while we gather forces?”

“True,” said Persephone. “How are we going to reach the Lake of Fire without someone spotting us?”

“Did you ever think about where the Hellfire comes from that feeds the Lake?”

“Can’t say that I have, no.”

“Well, you’re about to learn. And swim in it.”

“And here I thought I wasn’t going to have any fun,” muttered Persephone.

Nyx grinned and kept running. It took close to an hour of dodging through tunnels and avoiding the larger demons that lurked there before they came to a vast underground lake of Hellfire. Persephone’s eyes went wide. “Holy Shit!”

In the center of the Lake, a large column of Hellfire flowed upward into a hole in the ceiling.

“That’s not possible,” said Persephone.

“Not possible on Earth,” corrected Nyx. “Hell is a lot more interesting than some people think.”

“You could make this a tourist attraction.”

“If I didn’t need to keep it a secret for grand entrances,” said Nyx. “Ready to get burned?”

“Can’t be worse than the last time,” said Persephone. “Same old sins, crimes, yada, yada.” Nyx knew she was putting on a show. It was always a hideous shock to suffer what you had done to others. Humans, especially, felt such extravagant misery.

Together they launched into the air and flew toward the pillar of cold flame.

Tribunal entered Heaven through the Gate this time, instead of sneaking in through another dimension. There was no need. God could not see or hear anything that happened in Heaven anymore. The angels who were near the Gate smiled at him and went on their ways. Tribunal took his time walking, enjoying the view that he had not seen since he was brought through the Gates himself, a thousand years before.

Michael was still there, welcoming souls into Heaven. On a whim, Tribunal joined the line. When he reached Michael, he smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder. “An excellent job, you’re doing, Michael. Like a good guard dog.”

“You will not succeed at this,” said Michael. “God will stop you.”

“God has no hope of stopping me,” said Tribunal. “He’s blind. Observe.”

Tribunal turned and kicked one of the souls out of the line and out of Heaven. The soul screamed and would continue screaming all the way down to Earth. Tribunal stood with his hands up and his arms wide waiting. “I don’t feel any smiting. Do you?”

Michael frowned even more deeply. “That soul did nothing to deserve that.”

“I know,” said Tribunal. “I don’t care. And neither should you, really. You have a bigger problem.” He leaned in and whispered in Michael’s ear. “Very soon, all of you are going to cease to exist.”

Michael blanched at the thought, though he didn’t—couldn’t—move. Tribunal leaned back and smiled. “Very soon now, Michael. Very soon. Oh, and Arcana says hi.”

Tribunal pointed at his waist, and Michael saw Arcana’s head hanging there. He opened his mouth to shout, to call out a warning. Tribunal waved his hand, and Michael’s mouth vanished entirely.

“Much better,” said Tribunal. “I should really do that to all of you. Your voices sicken me. Did you know that? So calm, so smug, so self-satisfied. So genteel.” His smile went wider. “Maybe I’ll crucify you all like God had done to me. Maybe that will help you all understand a bit better before you vanish from existence.”

“We have all felt pain,” sent Michael. “We have fought wars in Heaven, and we know what it is to be in agony.”

“But you have no idea what it is to be created to be in agony,” snarled Tribunal. “By your loving Father. In order to save worms. No. You all can just die and vanish, like the rest of Creation.” And with that, Tribunal stalked off across the plains of Heaven. A moment later he vanished, and Michael could sense him appearing on God’s mountain, taking his seat on the right of the Throne of God. Michael closed his eyes and concentrated all his power. It was a struggle, but his mouth slowly, painfully, reappeared.

And then, because he was unable to do anything else, Michael turned back to the souls coming in and welcomed them one by one.

In the skies above Firozkoh, the 666th legion of Descended circled like a flock of giant vultures, waiting to feast on the dead. The day was bright and sunny, but the huge mass of black angel wings blocked the sun.

Far below, Ishtar could see the humans staring up into the sky in horror. Some had fallen to their knees and were weeping; others were fleeing into temples to desperately pray to a God who was not listening. It made Ishtar smile.

“Now!” she shouted.

A scream rang out from the throats of five thousand Descended as they dropped from the sky. It was a scream born of rage: at the humans who so deserved the Hell that the Descended had fallen into; at the dark, bloody, vicious world in which they had been forced to live for eons; and more than anything else, at God.

They fell on the city with swords and whips, talons and teeth, killing randomly and indiscriminately. Women, children, and men all fell before them. Some of the city’s guardsmen and soldiers rallied together to try to put up a fight. They were no match for the Descended.

None of them are matches for us, crowed Ishtar as she flew at street level, hacking apart every living thing in her way. This city will be ours in hours. And then all of humanity will be ground to dust beneath our feet!

And then the Earth itself attacked, and silver blood splashed down upon the streets like rain.

Giant tentacles of stone drove up out of the ground, wrapping around Descended and smashing them to the city streets. Spikes of granite and diamond smashed through Angelic armor as though it were paper, piercing hearts, and leaving piles of silver dust floating in their wake. Razor-edged stones flew like shrapnel in all directions—and from all directions—at once, slashing through flesh, ripping limbs and wings and heads from bodies.

In the first seconds, a hundred Descended turned to dust. By the end of the first minute, it was a thousand.

“Who is doing this?” hundreds of panicked voices demanded in Ishtar’s head.

No Angel can do this, thought Ishtar as she rose straight up into the sky. No one has this sort of power in Heaven or Hell except Tribunal and God.

Her mind flashed back to Hell and the green that streaked Nyx’s skin and hair and blade.

But she was dead. I watched Lucifer saw her in half. And I saw Tribunal eat her heart. She died!

But nothing dies in Hell.

“Everyone into the sky. NOW!” Ishtar sent to the Descended. “I know who’s doing this.”

“Do you know how to stop them?” someone demanded.

“Her,” returned Ishtar as she flew straight up into the sky. “And before we can stop her, I have to find her.”

She watched as hundreds more of her legion were smashed to the Earth or ripped to pieces before they gained enough of the sky to avoid the tentacles of stone and shards of razor rock.

“Listen up!” Ishtar’s voice carried through the remaining Descended. “The thing that is doing this is an abomination called Epiphenia! She’s an Angel of Earth and apparently she doesn’t like us wrecking her toys.”

She surveyed the Angels around her. “Unfortunately, I don’t give a fuck. We have a job to do and if any of you want to live to see Paradise you need to do it.” She grinned. “Fortunately, there’s more than one way to kill humans.” She held out her sword, turned the point down, and changed it into a wide-winged, razor-edged, giant dart. She raised her arm and hurled it down so hard it became a blur. Far below a woman’s head exploded, and her body split apart as the dart smashed through her and cut her in half. A wave of Ishtar’s hand sent the dart winging up into the air again.

“Keep killing them,” said Ishtar. “Squad one with me. We’re going hunting!”

Lucifer was fucking again. It was his true passion, more than his desire for power or his enjoyment of the screams of his victims. Lucifer loved fucking. And he loved it most when his partner was someone who hated it but did it anyway.

No one hated it more than Leannis.

She despised Lucifer. She hated his face, hated his touch, hated the scent of him. Every time he touched her, a little of her died inside, and she cursed God who had made them immortal so she could not ever escape him.

Lucifer liked to watch her helpless disgust. He was in the middle of fucking her, her legs on his shoulders, his hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at him, when all the demons of Hell rose up and attacked.

The claws of the three succubae and two incubi that Lucifer kept in the room as his servants ripped into the flesh of his back. He shouted in surprise and tore them apart. Their broken, dismembered bodies smashed against the floors and their black blood spattered the walls. Lucifer roared in anger at their bloody remains, then stomped on them. When they’d stopped twitching entirely, he grabbed Leannis and threw her over onto her stomach, intending to take out his rage on her ass. That was when he heard the sounds of battle raging across the plains of Hell.

A thought brought his armor into being. He drew his sword and his long, razor-studded whip. He threw open the door of what had once been Nyx’s bedroom and stomped into the hallway, giant, cloven-hoofed boots encasing his feet as he went.

The first demons flew at him from the walls. The next leapt up at him from the floors. He dispatched them all with cuts from his sword and slashes of his talon-edged fingers. He stomped others under the heels of his boots. He was nearly at the end of the hallway when he heard Leannis screaming in pain and anger. The sound of it made him laugh.

By the time he reached the front entrance, his laughter was gone. Lucifer had killed nearly a hundred demons, yet still they came at him. From above and below, large and small, they attacked him. Their teeth and claws weren’t strong or sharp enough to pierce his armor, so they went for his face. When enough of them swarmed him at once, one or two got through, ripping into his flesh. He would shout then, and throw Hellfire from his fingers to incinerate them. His flesh healed fast enough that the bites were gone only moments after they’d been delivered. Even so, it infuriated him that they dared touch him.

He stepped out onto the plains of Hell and looked upon chaos. The Descended there had left the souls they were torturing and were flying high above the plains, swooping down on the demons that had risen from the ground. As Lucifer watched, a new pit opened in the surface of Hell and a thousand winged demons flew out, racing up into the sky to attack the Descended there. The Descended slashed through the demons as if they were made of paper, scattering demon blood and bodies all over the surface of Hell. Still more flew out, and the thousand winged demons became tens of thousands.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lucifer wondered.

The ground beneath Lucifer’s feet opened up and for a moment he was falling. Then something huge, with a mouth full of teeth as long as Lucifer was tall erupted out of the ground. Its mouth closed around Lucifer’s thighs and bit down hard. These teeth were strong enough to penetrate Lucifer’s armor and the flesh and bone beneath it. Lucifer screamed and slashed down with his blade. The creature let out its own horrible roar and clamped down, biting off both Lucifer’s legs as it sank deep into the Earth. Lucifer roared and threw fire down after it. Deep beneath the earth he heard the pain-filled bellow of the creature as his fire struck home. The sound was gratifying but did nothing to numb the pain at the severed stumps of his legs.

“Legions! Form up!” Lucifer shouted, sending his voice the length and breadth of Hell. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I will not stand for it! We are the rulers of Hell! And if the demon scum need to be taught that lesson again, then we will teach it to them!” He winged higher into the sky. The pain in the stumps of his legs changed as the bleeding stopped, and the healing began. It was a new form of agony, just as bad as the other, but in an entirely different way.

“Form up in your legions!” he shouted again. “Armor and weapons ready. First we sweep the skies and kill anything that flies up after us. Then we sweep the ground and what’s below it. Between now and when Tribunal calls us to the surface, we kill every fucking one we can find, even if we have to dig a pit through to the bottom of Hell! Fucking ATTACK!”

All the Descended in Hell roared out in rage, and the slaughter truly began.

The pillar of Hellfire threw Nyx and Persephone higher and higher until it spat them out at the bottom of the Lake of Fire. Nyx could hear Persephone fighting the pain and grabbed her hand. They didn’t need to stay down long, she knew. Just long enough to find the ones chained to the bottom of the Lake. And unlike last time, Nyx could use her mind to find them. She reached out and in moments knew where each one was. She sent instructions to Persephone, and the two broke apart.

Minutes later, Nyx and Persephone breached the surface of the Lake, flying high into the sky, with one hundred deranged, furious Descended, who had been chained at the bottom of the Lake of Fire for a thousand years, flying after them. Nyx pinpointed Lucifer with her mind and pointed with her sword. “That way!” she screamed. “Go after him! Kill him!”

The hundred Descended went. Nyx grinned as she watched them grow, then grinned again as she felt Lucifer sensing her presence. He was in great pain, which pleased her immensely. “Hello, Lucy,” she sent, using the nickname he hated most. “I’m back, and I’m coming for you!”

“You are aware that he has all the legions of Hell at his command?” said Persephone. “That would be what, five million Angels?”

“About that,” said Nyx. “Give or take the 1,358 that changed their mind before the battle began and went back to the side of God.”

“Well, as long as we don’t have them to worry about we’ll be fine,” said Persephone. She sighed. “I hope he does something different to me this time. That statue thing was boring.”

“You should try being crushed, stuffed in a box, and tossed to the bottom of the lake,” said Nyx.

“If you don’t have an idea soon,” said Persephone, “I’m pretty sure I’ll get my chance.”

“I already have an idea,” said Nyx. “I’ve had it since we left Earth.”

“Care to share?”

“Exactly,” said Nyx. She opened her mind again, and this time she opened it fully, so that any of the Descended could read it. “All of you!” Nyx sent. “Listen to me. Tribunal isn’t going to give you Paradise. He’s going to destroy Creation! And we’re the only ones who can stop him!”

Chapter 14

“HOW THE FUCK do I find this bitch?” snarled Ishtar, as she and her squad flew high above the Earth. Well below her she could see the remaining Angels of the 666th flying over the city, dropping their dart-shaped swords onto the humans gathered below. It didn’t matter if they were seeking shelter, or if they had retreated far below the Earth. The darts found them anyway. At least the bitch won’t stop us killing them all, Ishtar thought.

As if in response, the wind roared from all directions at once, throwing the Descended below her against one another. Dark wings flapped desperately as they sought to counter the winds, but there was no single wind to counter. If they braced one way, they were hit from another direction. No matter what, they could not hold their places. Any swords dropped on the city below were caught in the winds like ships caught in a maelstrom of waves and whirlpools.

“Fucking bitch!” screamed Ishtar. “Come face me, you whore!”

Far away, far below the Earth, Epiphenia sat in the magic circle in Nyx’s cave. It took a small amount of power for her to use the magic of the circle to block her from Descended senses. They were so much less powerful than God or Tribunal. And because Epiphenia was neither of Heaven or Hell, she could easily send her power out of the magic circle.

All of Creation was hers to command, and she was going to use it.

High above the 666th Legion, hail began to form in spikes.

“Nyx!” Lucifer’s voice was angrier than Nyx had ever heard it, and she had made Lucifer furious over the eons. “I’m coming for you, bitch! Legions! Form up!”

Nyx ignored him. “Read my mind!” she sent out to the Descended. “This is all that has happened to me! This is what Tribunal will do to you all! And this is where Lucifer is leading you!”

It hurt, having millions of Descended Angels dig into her mind at once. It was nothing compared to having her body crushed in a box and Hellfire seeping into her brainpan, but it still wasn’t pleasant. Hundreds of thousands of minds ripped into hers, taking her memories for themselves. Anger, disbelief, jealousy, fear, hatred in ten thousands of different forms flew into her mind. It was all Nyx could do to stay in the sky. She had to close her eyes and plug her ears, blocking out the sights and sounds of Hell just to keep a grip on her sanity.

They took the memories of her lovemaking with Tribunal. Of her belief in him, her toil on his behalf. Of Epiphenia’s birth. Of his betrayal and her torment. They shuffled through the memories like bored children, leaving their greasy fingerprints on her mind.

“Nyx!” Persephone’s sending broke through the others. “Lucifer is coming. Fast!”

Nyx opened her eyes. Through the darkness of Hell’s sky, she could see Lucifer charging, with a hundred legions behind him. Flying demons were attacking them as they flew. Though the legions numbered five hundred thousand, the demons numbered more, and were occasionally pulling Descended out of the sky by sheer weight of numbers.

“Listen to me!” Nyx’s voice filled Hell. “Lucifer has lied to you all! Tribunal has lied to you all! He will destroy Earth, Heaven and Hell, and all of us. We will cease to exist! There will be nothing left of us, nothing left of God! Creation will be unmade!”

“You lie, bitch!” screamed Lucifer. “Creation will be ours!”

“God will never allow Creation to be ours!” Nyx’s words rang louder than Lucifer’s. “He would turn us to ashes before he would let us rule Creation!”

“Tribunal will destroy God!” Lucifer was only five miles away now. Nyx could see the fury in his face, could feel the rage emanating from him. “And I will destroy you!”

“And when you destroy God, what happens to Creation?” Nyx demanded. “God didn’t just make Creation. He’s part of Creation! Everything in the world is part of him, and he is part of everything, including us! What do you think happens when he goes away?”

She looked away from Lucifer, to the Descended who surrounded them. They were coming from all directions, now, millions strong, pursued by tens of millions of demons. They were flying in grim desperation toward her.

“Tribunal is an aspect of God,” called Nyx. “He is more powerful than any of us. He is more powerful than all of us, and he will render us all into nothingness when he is done.”

Lucifer came on; the Angels at his back came on. From all directions, the Angels came on, charging forward. The black and red armor filled the sky like ashes fresh-blown from a volcano. Swords and whips were in every single hand. A few Angels had left after reading Nyx’s mind. That was all.

“Fuck,” said Persephone, looking at them all coming.

“You’ve seen into my mind!” shouted Nyx. “You know what I say is true!”

“I think we’re fucked,” said Persephone. “They’re too vicious to care.”

“Awww…” Nyx pulled her own sword and whip out. “I think you’re right. Back to back. And I want Lucifer.”

“You can have him,” said Persephone. “I’ll take on everyone else, then?”

“You do that,” said Nyx. “And Persephone?”

The skies of Hell, already black, glowed with hellfire and Descended steel and seas of red eyes racing toward each other.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry it didn’t work.”

Persephone nodded. “Me, too.”

The seas of Descended closed in on them from all directions. Then Lucifer and Nyx were blade to blade, Persephone was fighting a pair of Descended, and all round them the skies of Hell rained silver blood as a million Angels fought one another once more to see who would reign in Hell.

The first hail spears slammed into the Descended Angels who roiled and fought against the buffeting winds high above Firozkoh. The spears were just ice; they should not have been able to penetrate the armor of the Descended. This ice, though, was imbued with Epiphenia’s power. It cut through the Descended the way nails driven by a mighty hammer would cut through human flesh. Descended fell out of the sky to be grabbed and crushed by the stone tentacles. Others simply burst into silver dust that instantly scattered to the winds when the spears of ice pierced their hearts.

Ishtar tried every trick she could think of to find Epiphenia. She looked for the source of the power, but it was everywhere. She looked for places without power and couldn’t find any. She reached out with her mind to every corner of the Earth to find an intelligence that wasn’t human or Descended. Nothing worked. Somewhere, she was sure, the bitch Epiphenia was hiding and enjoying herself immensely, but there was no way for Ishtar to figure out where she was.

At least the hail has stopped.

Lighting flashed out, brighter and more powerful than any Ishtar had seen in a thousand years of living on Earth. A dozen descended vanished in billows of smoke and silver ash.

“Oh, fuck this,” said Ishtar. “Everyone but my squad! Get back to Hell! Tell Lucifer we’ve got problems. We need more bodies up here!”

She watched as the remaining Descended dove straight down to the Earth, whips snapping and tearing holes in the fabric of reality. The four hundred remaining Angels from Hell’s most powerful legion dodged and wove their way through the massive stone tentacles that had destroyed their brethren and began the long, slow fall into Hell.

Ishtar led her squad up, up, up to a place where there was neither air nor gravity. There, in the darkness of space, she floated and looked down on the Earth. Epiphenia wasn’t around long enough to have made her own hiding place, Ishtar thought. She has to be in one of Nyx’s places. So where?

Ishtar went through her mind, sifting through all the recollections she had from the times she and Nyx had shared memories. There had to be something there, some place that Nyx had made that she’d never actually told Ishtar about. And once I figure it out, that bitch is mine.

Deep beneath the Earth, Epiphenia smiled to herself. Step one finished. Now all I have to do is wait. She looked around the dark room that Nyx had created, frowned, and waved a hand. A line of quartz appeared above her, bringing in sunlight from the surface. Another wave brought a breeze carrying pollen, seeds, and a few surprised beans. A third, and the room bloomed with plants and flowers.

“Much better,” said Epiphenia, and she smiled to herself. Now let’s hope Mother and Persephone can do their parts.

Nyx flew into the chamber of the Mother of All. “Hope you had fun,” she said, “because things are about to change.”

“WE ARE DONE,” said the Mother of All. “I HAVE DONE AS YOU HAVE ASKED AND NOW WE ARE FINISHED.”

Nyx smiled. “I don’t think so.”

She sent out a thought, and Descended began flying into the room from every other entrance. At first there were ten, then fifty, then two hundred.

“Given that I destroyed you by myself,” said Nyx, “what do you think is going to happen to you now?”

“I CAN SUMMON MY BRETHREN,” warned the Mother of Demons. “YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW MANY OF US THERE TRULY ARE. WE CAN DESTROY YOU ALL IF WE WISH!”

“No, you can’t,” said Nyx. “Otherwise you’d have done it by now. Now would you prefer to listen, or would you prefer to be cut slowly to pieces and have your successor listen?”

The quivering, vile-smelling mass shuddered in rage but said, “I LISTEN.”

“Report,” said Lucifer, glaring at Morrigan, who knelt in front of him. He had never gotten around to putting her in the Lake of Fire, which was fortunate because she was an apt strategist and a capable fighter, and right now, he needed as many of those as he could get.

The fight with Nyx had gone completely to shit in seconds. No sooner had they crossed blades than every Angel in Hell had smashed into them, it felt like. The first battle for control of Hell had been chaos. There was no order of battle, no standards and no challenges, just masses of Descended smashing into one another, hacking one another’s flesh, and cutting each other out of the sky. Nyx and Lucifer had been separated almost immediately. Which was too bad because I could have cut the bitch down, and we wouldn’t be in this mess.

Nyx had finally called her troops together and retreated from the field of battle. She had not given up or surrendered. Instead, she had divided her forces and sent half of them out into Hell to take over the cities and build strongholds against Lucifer’s power.

Now, Lucifer stood on the top of the tower in the city of Samina, looking out at the incredible mess that was Hell. The cities were crumbling under the brutal onslaught of both sides. The plains were in ruins, with the souls on them impaled on broken torture devices, or scooped up and taken away to be turned into Hellstone weapons for either side.

At least the fucking demons are gone.

“Iswednokkurn is under their control,” said Morrigan. “Dis is half and half. No one is controlling the plains, and the souls are going unpunished. Pandaemonium is under our control, but they’re still fighting in the streets. The demons have stopped attacking and have all vanished into the ground. No idea why.”

“Nyx,” said Lucifer. “You can bet it’s that bitch who did it.” He paced back and forth across the tower. “The question is why? What’s she get from calling the demons off?”

“They were attacking her troops as well,” said Morrigan. “It probably allows them to fight without distraction.”

Lucifer swore and wished he had something to fuck. He considered grabbing Morrigan, but he needed her doing other things. There were no souls nearby, nor were there any incubi or succubi available to satiate his lust. When I finally take Nyx, I’ll fuck every hole she has until she’s split in half.

“Right, bring all the troops here. No more of this divide and conquer shit. We all come together; we all move together. First we take on the troops at Dis, then Pandaemonium.” He reached out with his mind. Nyx was underground, and while with some work he could pinpoint exactly where she was, it meant she would be able to do the same thing to him, and he didn’t want that just yet. He let his mind spread all over Hell. Nyx’s forces were fighting everywhere, save the force she had with her. They’re not really organized. Once we’re back together… “Move it. I want this war ended. Fast.”

Got it! Ishtar folded her wings and dove down toward the Earth’s atmosphere. The squad of Descended followed her. She sent to them an image of where they were going, and ordered them all to shield their minds and bodies from sight. She didn’t know how Epiphenia managed to know where they were, but anything they could do to hide themselves, they would do.

Years before, she and Nyx had gone through each other’s minds. Nyx had given her a glimpse of a place Ishtar had never been, a cavern deep in the Earth, where no light penetrated. It was a place where Nyx could seal herself away and, with the magic there, hide herself from any presence, human or divine.

That has to be it, Ishtar thought, and her wings and body began to heat up with the speed of re-entry into the atmosphere. Because if it isn’t, we’re screwed.

Nyx sat on a ledge in the Mother of Demons’ chamber, eyes shut, following all the actions of her troops in Hell. Lucifer, as expected, had called his troops together. He was readying to attack, Nyx knew. There was no real way to hide the movements of the Descended in Hell. One could sense where anyone and everyone was with a little work.

Which was why Nyx wasn’t planning on using Descended for her next move.

The chamber of the Mother of Demons was filling up fast. Hundreds of thousands of demons were now in the chamber, along with Nyx’s thousand Descended. Millions more were in the tunnels around it.

Nyx opened her eyes and looked at the Mother of Demons. “How go the preparations?”

“IT IS NEARLY DONE.”

“Good,” said Nyx. “Then get your children moving. I want no delays once it begins.”

“MANY OF MY CHILDREN WILL DIE.”

“And since you never cared about that before,” said Nyx, “you won’t mind now.” She reached out with her mind to find Persephone, then grinned. Persephone was in the midst of being fiercely and thoroughly serviced by Belphegor. He was not the handsomest of the Descended, nor was he the most popular. He was, however, known for being the best hung. And judging from the noises Persephone was making, it was exactly what she needed. “Tell him to finish up soon,” sent Nyx. “Things are about to happen.”

Ishtar led her squad of Descended into the caverns. Far below them was Nyx’s secret chamber, and Ishtar knew that they had to reach it. The tunnels and chimneys that led deep into the Earth were barely wide enough for the Descended to pass though. In a few places, they had to hide their wings and let themselves fall or jump from rock to rock like mountain goats. Ishtar held back, looking and listening for the trap she was sure was there.

They were nearly there when Ishtar heard the voice in her head.

“Hello, Ishtar,” said Epiphenia. “I think you should turn around now.”

The walls around the Descended erupted in stone spikes, impaling all the other members of her squad. Five turned to dust at once. Three others had time to scream before they died. The last two were impaled through the head, and couldn’t make a sound as they flailed and squirmed to escape the agony. New spikes flew out of the stone and they, too, disappeared into dust.

The spikes vanished, and Ishtar had a clear path out the way she had come.

“Tell Tribunal,” sent Epiphenia in a voice like the aftermath of a great storm at sea. “Creation is mine. He cannot have it.”

Ishtar fled.

The remains of the 666th landed in Samina just before everything went bad.

Lucifer beheaded the first six of them without waiting to get their report. The seventh he was tearing slowly in half while she screamed out what had happened on Earth. Lucifer finished what he was doing but didn’t kill any more of them.

It can’t be Epiphenia, Lucifer thought as he paced the top of his tower. I saw her die. Tribunal ate her fucking heart.

For the first time, a small spur of doubt crept into Lucifer’s heart

It doesn’t matter right now, Lucifer decided. First I subdue Nyx. Then I tell Tribunal he fucked up. Should be worth it to see his face.

“Get your asses down to Morrigan,” Lucifer growled at the remaining members of the 666th, who were kneeling on the tower before him. “You tell her you’re now the shock troops. You lead every attack against Nyx’s forces. If we win this thing, I will consider not cutting you all into fucking pieces and feeding you to the demons!”

The ground began rumbling.

What the fuck?

The entire city fell.

Every building, every street collapsed at once, falling hundreds of feet into the earth. Descended shouted in surprise and screamed in pain. Many managed to take to the air and stared in horror as ten thousand of the giant tunneling demons rose out of the remains of the city and began feasting on the buildings and the Descended inside them. From out of each tunnel where one of the giant worm-demons had emerged, thousands more demons charged out. Half took to the air. The others raced across the ground, biting and clawing into Angelic flesh wherever they could reach it.

“Lucifer!” Morrigan didn’t bother using his titles, and Lucifer was too stunned to notice. “Nyx’s army is on the move! They’re coming from three directions at once!”

“Four,” said Nyx. “We’re also coming out underneath you, and I will cut your fucking head off myself.”

Lucifer’s eyes swiveled back and forth in his sockets until he spotted the first of Nyx’s Descended charging out of the tunnels. The demons paid no mind to Nyx’s army, settling for feasting on Lucifer’s troops. Lucifer screamed in rage and charged forward. Then the swarm of flying demons was upon him, and there was no time for anything save to fight and kill. The sheer weight of the demon’s numbers drove him back. They bit into him again and again, occasionally breaking flesh, but mostly nothing more than an annoyance. It was the fact that he could not get at Nyx that was most frustrating.

Lucifer threw flame after flame into the mass of demons. Dozens fried; hundreds took their place.

“Lucifer!” Morrigan’s voice rang out in his brain. “We are going to be destroyed if this keeps up!”

We cannot beat them. Not here. Not if they’ve got the demons on their side.

Of course, we don’t have to fight them here.

Lucifer changed direction and flew into the sky, his wings sending him aloft faster than any demon could fly. He swung his whip and then sent it farther skyward, tearing a hole larger than any between Earth and Hell since the Descended had first been cast from Heaven.

“Follow me!” Lucifer screamed, and his voice reached every ear in Hell. “Those who want to live in Paradise forever, follow me to Earth! We will destroy humanity, and Tribunal will bring us to Paradise!”

He flew upward, high and hard, into the hole in the sky, and tens of thousands of Descended followed him.

Far below, flying out of the tunnels, Nyx looked up as the remains of Lucifer’s army flew away.

“Was this part of the plan?” asked Persephone.

“No,” said Nyx.

“Think Epiphenia can deal with all of them?”

“I don’t know,” said Nyx tiredly. “She probably can, but I don’t know if she can do it without wiping out all of humanity.”

“So we’re going after?”

“Oh, yes.”

In the place in Sheol where Tribunal kept a small part of his presence, a small, red shrike flew faster than any had ever flown before. Tribunal saw it coming and could feel the desperation in it even before it reached him. He froze it in the air with a thought. “What do you want, Lucifer?”

“Nyx has taken Hell!” the bird shrieked. “She has used the demons to destroy my armies. We are abandoning Hell to destroy humanity, as was your wish, but she pursues, and she will try to stop us!”

“Miserable failure!” hissed Tribunal. He would have stamped his feet, were there anything to stamp them on. “You dare bring me such news?”

“Come to Earth,” said the bird. “Help us defeat Nyx. If God notices, you can tell him it was a Descended uprising that you and I were trying to quell to protect humanity. And if God doesn’t notice, then we will destroy humanity, and you will have your wish come true!”

Tribunal frowned. Lucifer had failed him; of that there was no doubt. And no matter how much Lucifer tried to spin it otherwise, Tribunal was going to punish the Descended fiercely before he unmade him and the rest of Creation.

He turned his attention away from the shrike in Sheol, and back to his model of Creation. With a single thought, the last of the gaps in his illusion of the word were filled. God is now blind and deaf and dumb, Tribunal thought. Now it is my time.

Now, Creation will be unmade, and all shall be remade in my image.

He rose from his place and with another thought, transported himself back to Heaven. He pulled his entire self there and rose from his place beside God’s throne. This would be the last time he would walk through Heaven. And this would be the last day that any souls came to Heaven. Soon, nothing would be left of it, or of Creation, or of Hell. Soon, the only thing that remained would be Tribunal.

And then all would begin again the way it should be, with all praising and worshipping Tribunal. In his Creation, there would be no rebels.

Tribunal took his time, enjoying the last view of the Heaven he hated so much, and enjoying even more the thought of how desperate Lucifer was, down on Earth.

Chapter 15

ARCHANGEL MICHAEL, LEADER of the Heavenly Host, General of God’s Army, and greatest warrior in Creation, watched as Tribunal walked slowly across Heaven. Michael wished desperately that he could draw his sword, or even call out to the others, but he could not. Tribunal had forbidden it. He felt tears coming to his eyes as he saw the smile on the little godling’s face. Aspect of God or not, as powerful as God himself or not, Tribunal was no longer the Son of God in Michael’s eyes. He was only a godling. An upstart and a misery to all who knew him.

The vain, miserable little man still had Arcana’s head on his belt.

No one noticed.

“Michael? Michael, can you hear me?”

It was Epiphenia, sending to him from Earth. He could not answer back. Tribunal had forbidden it.

“Michael, the hosts of Hell are rising to the surface. Nyx is fighting Lucifer for control of all of Hell and Earth, and is trying to save humanity. Is there nothing you can do?”

Michael, warrior of God, said nothing. He watched as Tribunal approached the Gates of Heaven. Nyx was the one trying to save humanity—Nyx!—and this one was trying to destroy it. God would be very interested, but God didn’t know and there was nothing Michael could do about that.

Tribunal smiled at Michael. “I just wanted you to be the first to know,” he said. “This will be the last day that Heaven exists. Enjoy it.”

Tribunal stepped through the Gates and off the edge of Heaven, falling to the chaos on the Earth below.

It was night when Lucifer’s gate opened in the middle of the deserted streets of Firozkoh, sending buildings tumbling down into the great open pit. No one was there to witness it or to see the red glow from the pit reflecting off the clouds above. The few surviving residents had fled from the half-destroyed city, leaving their belongings behind them. No one was there to see Lucifer crawl out of the pit and stand on the surface of the world for the first time in a thousand years, or to see him take a deep breath of air free of the stench of hellfire and human suffering.

No one was there to see the hundred thousand Descended who crawled out after him, boiling out of the pit like giant deformed ants from a hill that had been kicked, to stand on the surface of the Earth. They drew swords and whips as soon as they reached the surface and gazed hungrily at the world around them, eager to destroy all humanity and claim the planet for their own.

Then the Earth erupted around them with stone tentacles and blades of granite that sheared through Angelic steel. From above lightning and hail pounded down on them.

“Get in the air!” screamed Lucifer. “Get in the air and spread out! Kill every human on the planet!”

The Descended tried to rise from the ground, but the wind, raging before, became stronger than any seen in the world since the firestorms of Creation, pushing them flat to the ground.

On a plateau on a nearby mountain, another rift opened in the ground, and Nyx’s army poured out. As soon as they were free of the pit they took to the sky. Half a million of her Descended had followed her from Hell. The others had stayed behind to bring Lucifer’s remaining followers in line and to see to it that the demons returned to their places. The sheer numbers of the demons had frightened some of the Descended, and they were determined to assert their dominance over Hell once more.

Nyx didn’t care. Her army outnumbered Lucifer’s five to one, and she had Epiphenia fighting on her side. If they could reach Lucifer, she could crush him once and for all. I might even kill the bastard. And this time he won’t get to come back from it.

She realized that the certainty of her own death or unmaking was bothering her less and less. It was just what had to be done.

Nyx ordered her army into the air and had it encircle Firozkoh, just out of the reach of the brutal storm that was crushing Lucifer’s army. “No one escapes!” Nyx shouted. “No one gets past our line and out to attack the humans!” She grinned as she looked through the storm. Lucifer’s Descended and Lucifer himself were crawling on their hands and knees, trying to fight off the stone tentacles that relentlessly smashed into them or squeezed the life out of them. “Epiphenia, can you hear me?” Nyx sent.

“Mother!” Nyx could hear the joy in Epiphenia’s voice. “I hear you!”

“Let the storm drop,” said Nyx. “We’re in position.”

The winds and rain and hail all stopped at once. The tentacles retreated into the Earth. Lucifer’s troops, stunned as much by the sudden silence as they had been by the storm, blinked stupidly.

“Charge!” Nyx screamed.

Five hundred thousand Angels plunged down on the remains of Lucifer’s army, and Firozkoh became a killing field.

A hundred miles above the Earth, falling faster than sound, Tribunal saw the two armies clashing. He saw Lucifer desperately trying to rally his troops, and the armies of Nyx smashing down every Descended Angel that served Lucifer. And in the middle of it, screaming with rage, Nyx drove full-force toward Lucifer, her blade clearing a path through the battling Descended to get to the King of Hell.

She might just win, thought Tribunal. Not that it matters.

Persephone wasn’t in the battle. She was going the other way, zeroing in on the one Descended presence she had been hoping to find. Her flight took her from the mountains of Afghanistan to the streets of Kabul, where Ishtar was sitting in a steam room in a bathhouse in the middle of the city. From the air, Persephone could smell the blood of all the men and boys Ishtar had killed in the building.

Persephone landed, not bothering to hide herself from the locals. They had all seen enough to traumatize them forever. She wondered idly what gods they believed in now. She folded her wings in and stepped inside, her sword and whip in hand.

Ishtar was naked, stretched out on a stone bench, luxuriating in the steam. Blood made the floor slippery, and the naked, broken bodies of men and boys lay around her. She didn’t bother opening her eyes when she said, “Hello, Persephone.”

“Bitch,” said Persephone. “You want to die lying down or standing up?”

“I’m not here to die,” said Ishtar. “I’m here to talk.”

“I’m not.” Persephone’s blade cleaved down in an arc of black light. Ishtar just managed to roll off the bench and to her feet before the bench exploded into shards of rock.

“I’m very disappointed,” Ishtar said, her armor sliding over her body and her own sword and whip leaping to her hands. “I thought you’d want to be friends with the new Queen of Hell.”

Nyx cut through the last of the Descended between her and Lucifer. The Prince of Darkness was fending off three of Nyx’s troops, hacking and slashing at them with lightning speed. As Nyx watched, one was cut out of the sky and sent tumbling to the Earth. Another had a wing torn from her body by the force of Lucifer’s whip and was sent spinning.

“Enough!” Nyx screamed, and her voice carried over the sound of battle and to the ears of every Descended Angel in both armies. “Lucifer! YOU ARE MINE!”

The other Descended fighting Lucifer backpedaled hurriedly away. Lucifer turned. The force of his blade meeting Nyx’s was enough to make both blades shiver. He snarled at her, and Nyx snarled back.

“You stupid fuck,” growled Nyx as her sword slid around his and the point jabbed at Lucifer’s face. “He’s going to destroy everything!”

“He’s going to give us Paradise,” snapped Lucifer, muscling his blade around to block Nyx’s and then hacking back at her hands.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid!” Nyx said, her voice loud enough to carry over the entirety of the battle. “Tribunal never did anything for anyone! And he sure as fuck isn’t going to do anything for us!”

“You lie!” screamed Lucifer. “You just want to be his pet!” He launched a complex attack, smashing through Nyx’s defenses, only to find that Nyx had used his momentum to put him in range to have his head removed. He spun in the air and let himself drop thirty feet to escape her blade. “Well, you fucked up, and now he’s going to destroy you, bitch!”

Lucifer launched himself up, whipping and slashing as he went.

The bathhouse shuddered as Ishtar flung Persephone into one of the pillars. Rock and brick shattered and spewed out into the steam room, chipping the walls and making the bodies of the dead shudder with the force of impact. Persephone pushed herself off the column, her whip snapping into Ishtar’s face as her sword lashed out to her belly. Ishtar dodged both and returned the attack. Blades, whips, and teeth flashed at one another as the two struggled for supremacy in the bathhouse.

Ishtar caught hold of Persephone’s armor and slammed her against the wall. She drove her knee into Persephone’s ribs again and again like a jackhammer. “I was always better than you up close,” Ishtar said, grinning.

“Cocksucking doesn’t count,” growled Persephone, smashing her elbow into Ishtar’s face and transforming her sword into an oversized karambit whose hooked blade she ripped across Ishtar’s breasts, scoring the armor and reaching the flesh underneath. Ishtar hissed in surprise and shifted her hips, throwing Persephone into the outside wall with enough force to send her through it. Persephone hit the next building, bounced, and rolled. She came up spitting blood and teeth, and smiling. “You’re going to die, Ishtar. I’m going to breathe your dust.”

Suddenly an explosion rocked the Earth and sent them both to their knees.

Tribunal landed in a fireball that sent the Descended flying in all directions. The force of the blast threw those on the ground through the air and smashed them into the buildings that were crumbling around them. Those in the air flew hundreds of yards through the sky, some losing control and hitting the sides of mountains, others managing to ride the winds up and over the peaks that surrounded the remains of the city.

And when the flame and dust cleared, Tribunal, a short, whipcord thin man with a sparse beard and cruel eyes, wearing a robe of red so dark it was almost black, stood in the middle of a crater, surrounded by all the surviving Angels of Hell.

Ishtar and Persephone struggled to their feet. Tribunal’s presence was so overwhelming they could barely feel the divine force flowing from each other. They looked together to the mountains, where a huge fireball was rising in the sky.

“So,” said Ishtar. “He’s here.”

“We’re fucked,” said Persephone.

“You’re fucked,” said Ishtar. “I switched sides, remember?”

Persephone shook her head. “I used to think I was the idiot in the group.”

Ishtar turned to look Persephone in the eye. “Join us, you silly bitch. You can have Paradise.”

“You’re just rock stupid, aren’t you?” said Persephone. “One, Tribunal will kill us all and unmake Creation. Two, Lucifer is the biggest rape-loving dickhead to ever walk Creation. And three, if we survive the next hour, I’m going to kill you myself, you betraying bitch.”

Persephone took off toward the mountains, the wind from her wings blowing dust into Ishtar’s eyes.

“Fine,” said Ishtar, taking to the air after her. “Be that way.”

Nyx was the first to move, her reaction born out of anger and eons of training. Faster than any other Descended could hope to match, she flew toward Tribunal, her blade in front of her, her mouth wide in a scream of hatred.

Her sword, sharpened divine steel, shattered against Tribunal’s chest. The force of her charge rebounded into her, sending her flying backward and down. He sneered down at her. “You feeble creature,” he said. “Did you really think that anything you could do would be a match for me?”

Nyx pulled herself to her feet. “Had to try, asshole.”

“I’m sure you did,” said Tribunal. “Lucifer?”

Nyx spun and used her whip to catch Lucifer’s sword and redirect it away from her head. In the same move, she darted in and caught his wrist and delivered a devastating kick to his knee. It buckled backward, and she wrenched the sword from his hand. She slashed open his stomach, spun, and attacked Tribunal once more.

This time she didn’t even get to make contact.

The urge to drop the sword and throw herself at Tribunal’s feet came with such overwhelming force that Nyx was already scrabbling in the dirt before she realized he was taking control of her mind. She crawled to his feet, overcome with remorse and fear and deep, deep sadness for her actions. “Please, Master! Forgive me!” Tears poured down her face as she realized how completely wrong she had been to oppose this man—this God—who had been her lover, her partner, and her divine inspiration to build one of the greatest religions the world had ever known. It had been his wisdom that had brought her as far as she had come, and his guidance that would have brought her to Paradise, if only she hadn’t betrayed him. If only I had sacrificed Epiphenia! If only I’d had the courage to do what he’d asked, he would have forgiven me for all my weakness.

In a far off galaxy, a star winked out.

“Now that is the way she is supposed to be,” said Lucifer, grinning down at Nyx. He pulled back a boot to kick her and found himself frozen in place.

“Don’t,” said Tribunal, and the contempt and disgust in his voice made Lucifer feel as if his very presence was a disgrace to all Creation. “She is a disgusting, depraved, worthless piece of shit. And you, Lucifer, aren’t even worthy to look upon her.”

Lucifer began weeping as he realized the truth of what Tribunal was saying. Nyx had betrayed Tribunal, true, but he had failed Tribunal repeatedly. He fell to his knees. All he’d had to do was destroy humanity—puny, weak humans—and he couldn’t even do that. “Please, my Lord,” he begged. “Please, let me make it up to you. Please! I’ll take my Descended now and destroy humanity for you! We’ll kill every last one of them! I swear we will!”

“How?” said Tribunal. “Your forces are outnumbered five to one. You’ve been defeated in Hell. You’ve been trapped on Earth. How can you possibly think to do anything for me?”

Lucifer bowed his head.

“You’re not even worthy to lick my feet, Lucifer.” Tribunal turned his gaze back on Nyx. “Whereas you should most certainly be licking my feet, Nyx. It’s the least you can do after your betrayal. And do stay on your belly. It suits you.”

“What the FUCK is everyone standing around for?” Persephone’s sending rang loud in the head of every angel. “He’s going to destroy Creation! Fucking ATTACK!”

She came down at Tribunal like a bolt of black lightning, moving at full speed, her sword held in front of her like a spear.

Tribunal waved a hand and Persephone crashed into an impenetrable wall of air. Her neck, spine and arms snapped under the impact, and her skull crushed in on itself like a melon thrown from a roof. She slid down and landed on the ground in a heap.

Stretched out on her belly, pulling herself along by her fingertips, Nyx brought her face level with Tribunal’s feet, now filthy with the mud, blood, and ichor that covered the ground. She delicately extended her tongue and, using the gentlest of touches so as not to disturb him, began cleaning the dirt from his toes.

“KILL HIM!” Persephone sent. “KILL HIM NOW!”

Tribunal waved his hand in the air and a half-million Angels froze on the spot. “Pathetic,” he said. “You really think you can kill me? I AM THAT I AM!” The words were God’s and though the blast that came with them was not as powerful as God’s voice, it was enough to make the Earth shiver, and to strike fear into the hearts of the Descended. “You can no more destroy me than you can yourselves. I am all-powerful, all-knowing, and all-seeing. I am that which will destroy Creation and recreate it in my own image!”

Another star winked out in the sky, then a third.

Tribunal looked down at Nyx again. “You took over your precious Hell again, didn’t you? Made it your own?” He shook his head. “You try to stand above your place. But I will fix that.”

Nyx could see Hell inside her mind. Nyx’s troops mercilessly and methodically attacked Lucifer’s surviving supporters, while the demons were harrying them from above and below. Through Tribunal’s eyes, Nyx could see all of Hell, and every battle happening at once.

“See what disaster you have created here,” sent Tribunal. “See how your hubris and pride have led to so much suffering.”

Nyx, unable to speak from the horror of what she had done, nodded her agreement. And still her tongue gently removed the layers of filth and grime from Tribunal’s feet.

“But that will end now,” sent Tribunal.

Every demon in sight exploded at once, and a rain of black, acidic demon blood covered the city and plains of Hell. The forces on both sides of the conflict reeled back in surprise.

“All this pain,” sent Tribunal. “All of it is your fault.”

Every Descended who had supported Nyx screamed in agony as their wings were torn off like the wings of flies in the hands of cruel, angry children. As one, they were raised fifty thousand feet into the never-ending darkness that was the sky around Hell, and as one they were sent plummeting to the ground.

Their bodies exploded when they hit, bones shattering and silver blood spraying over the spiked, unforgiving surface of Hell.

A new opening appeared in the skies of Hell, closer and bigger than any other seen before. As one, Lucifer’s forces rose and flew toward it.

The Earth behind Tribunal opened up, and the first of Lucifer’s Descended flew up into the sky.

“This is what will happen,” said Tribunal. “You, Lucifer, will now do penance for your failure. You and your Descended will be first to slaughter these that oppose my will.” His gesture took in all of Nyx’s forces, still frozen in the air. “And then you, Lucifer, will lead your Descended over the Earth, to slaughter all of humanity, from the oldest woman to the youngest child. Then, and only then, may you come here and beg forgiveness at my feet as Nyx is doing.”

“Enough,” said Epiphenia.

She rose out of the earth, a hundred yards away from Tribunal. Her red hair, her pale, green-shot skin, and the green of her armor glowed in the darkness. Her sword blade was dancing with green and white flames.

Tribunal sneered at her. “So. It lives.”

“It does,” agreed Epiphenia. “And it will destroy you.”

“I am God,” said Tribunal.

“You are a godling,” said Epiphenia. “An aspect of God, and a fairly pathetic one at that. Ungrateful, vain, self-centered, stupid. And did I say pathetic? Whereas I am Creation made flesh.”

“You are nothing,” said Tribunal, seething with rage. “Lucifer, you have your orders. Go!” Lucifer launched himself into the air and his armies, blades and whips already moving, converged on the helpless Descended. Tribunal smiled. “And as for you—”

A blast of power ripped through the sky and the Earth, whipping Tribunal’s cloak and robes and sending dirt and debris flying in every direction. As one, Nyx’s Descended came alive and, seeing the forces bearing down on them, fought back viciously. This time it was Nyx’s army that was outnumbered, and more of Lucifer’s Descended were coming through the rift from Hell with every moment.

“Really?” said Tribunal. “You think this will make a difference?”

“No,” said Epiphenia. “But that will.”

Tribunal looked down just in time to feel Nyx’s fist connect with his nose. The punch, reinforced with Epiphenia’s power, smashed the bones on his face in a spray of red blood. The force of it sent his body flying backward to land in an awkward heap on a pile of broken mud bricks and stones. Nyx stood before him, her wings spread wide, and Arcana’s head, which had been attached to Tribunal’s belt, dangling from her fist.

“Persephone!” Nyx screamed. “Hold them here! Epiphenia!”

“Go, Mother!” shouted Epiphenia and sent her power into Nyx. Nyx rocketed skyward, directly to Heaven’s Gates.

“Stop her!” Tribunal shouted, his voice strangely nasal. He cast his power toward Heaven, to block the entrance and keep Nyx out.

A massive force caught his power, engulfed it, and slammed it back on him. The force of it crushed his body into paste. Tribunal, now pure spirit, rose up out of the bloody, messy remains of his flesh and faced off against Epiphenia. “I will destroy you,” he hissed.

“I know,” said Epiphenia. “But I will hurt you first.”

And as Nyx raced toward Heaven with a thousand Descended hot on her trail, and Persephone rallied the remains of Nyx’s army to fight Lucifer’s forces, Epiphenia’s blade whirled through the air and smashed into Tribunal with all the power of Creation behind it.

Chapter 16

PERSEPHONE’S BLADE CUT through the head of one of Lucifer’s Descended with a single swipe. “Kill them all!” she sent again. “Keep them from killing the humans!”

When did I start to care so much about the humans? she thought. But the idea of the Descended destroying them wantonly made her furious.

“Spread out!” Lucifer’s bellow shook the ruins around them. He threw himself into the air after Nyx. “Kill these fucking traitors and then kill all the humans! Move!”

Two-and-a-half million Descended Angels screamed out their battle cries, and the sky shook with the unending thunder of their blades clashing and whips cracking. Wings flashed and silver blood sprayed over the earth.

And in the midst of it all, not moving a muscle, Epiphenia and Tribunal faced one another, their eyes locked. The power that was flying between them was so strong that any Descended that happened to be thrown into its path was instantly turned to dust.

“I will destroy you,” said Tribunal again. Epiphenia said nothing and threw more power. The air between then glowed brilliant white with the force of it. And in Kabul the humans marveled at what must surely be the sun rising in the middle of the night.

It was afternoon in Heaven. The light was pleasant and bright, and the presence of God cast a warm glow over everything as it always did. The souls and Angels went about their business happy in their ignorance that everything was ending, and that all time would be rewritten.

Archangel Michael stood at the Gates, welcoming souls with a kind word and a gentle touch. Tears streamed down his face, and he did nothing to staunch them. Several souls asked him what was wrong, but he could only shake his head and smile through his tears.

On the mountain where he, Gabriel, and Raphael had sat and talked so many times before, Azrael sat in silent contemplation. He was the Angel of Death and release from suffering. He had been among the most feared among the angels, and the most welcomed. For a thousand years, at God’s command, he had stayed away from the Earth, letting the souls find their own way to Heaven or Hell without his guidance. It had been God’s will, and God’s will was to be obeyed, happily.

Only Azrael wasn’t happy.

Tribunal was not in Heaven. And why that was important to Azrael he could not say, but it was. Tribunal had gone down to Earth. And shortly after Tribunal had left, Azrael had found himself not only thinking about the Earth, but also feeling what was happening there.

There was suffering. Terrible suffering, and it wasn’t just humans who were feeling it. Thousands—no, hundreds of thousands—of Angels were suffering, too. They were Descended Angels, it was true, but they were still Angels, and Azrael could feel the pain of each one. He longed to follow Tribunal; he longed to go down to the Earth and see what was making his brethren suffer so much. But he was not allowed. No Angel of Heaven was allowed to visit the Earth.

So why are all the Angels of Hell there? Azrael wondered. They were blocked, too. Has something changed?

He wanted to talk about it, to tell all of Heaven, but something blocked him from speaking whenever he wanted to mention it. It was extremely frightening.

And then, something did change, and all of Heaven felt it.

Nyx reached the outer Gates of Heaven and threw herself against them. The barrier Tribunal had placed on them was still there, and just as powerful as it had been before. “Epiphenia!” she sent. “I can’t get through!”

“Soon,” sent Epiphenia. “Be ready!”

“Easy for you to say,” muttered Nyx. She turned in the air and looked down to where a thousand of Lucifer’s Descended were winging toward her. She hesitated a moment, then tied Arcana’s head to her belt by her hair. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven,” sent Arcana. “Assuming you get us out of here alive.”

“Yeah, well.” Nyx drew her sword—Lucifer’s sword, really—and whip. “Let’s hope so.”

The first of the Descended was nearly as fast as Gabriel, God’s messenger had been. He was not, however, a good fighter. Nyx took both his wings in a pair of cuts and let him fall, screaming, to the Earth below. Like that will kill him, she thought, as the next six Descended came upon her. Whiner.

Her blade clashed with theirs, and more silver blood sprayed into the stratosphere.

Well, Persephone thought. This is going badly.

“Fall back!” she sent to her army, for they were hers to command, now. “Attack in waves, in and out. Keep them busy for as long as possible!”

Her army responded, the Descended tearing away from the battle, only to swing back and attack again. After each attack, there were fewer of them, but it kept Lucifer’s army too busy guessing where the next attack was coming from to launch out after the humans.

Just like the poor bastard cavalry in Jerusalem, thought Persephone, remembering how the Muslim defenders had fought so desperately against Nyx’s Crusaders in the hopes the women and children would escape. Wonder if we’ll fare any better? Do we deserve to?

She shook her head. No time to think that way.

“There you are, bitch!” crowed Ishtar, falling on Persephone from above with four other Descended behind her. “Time to die!”

Persephone spun in the air and lashed out, her whip opening a cut on Ishtar’s face. “Keep fighting!” Persephone screamed as her world narrowed to the blades in front of her. “Don’t let them escape!”

Tribunal had to exert effort, now. He was pouring all the power he could at Epiphenia, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t break through her defenses, couldn’t destroy her and clear the way to fulfill his true desire. Stupid thing, he fumed. How dare she stand against me? How dare any of them!

He turned his power to blast upward at Nyx, who was trapped before the Gate of Heaven, but it was immediately reflected back at him, staggering him with its intensity.

Twenty yards away, Epiphenia smiled. It’s time, Mother.

With a thought, she gathered all her power and hurled it at Tribunal. The force of the blast burned through his defenses and started ripping at his form, ethereal though it now was. He roared in pain and surprise and threw up a wall of defense that stopped Epiphenia’s power dead.

“NOW!” sent Epiphenia. She turned her power upward and directed it all to the Gates of Heaven in the microsecond that Tribunal was distracted. The blast ripped upward through the sky, turning half the Descended racing for the Gates into dust and narrowly missing Nyx. It slammed into the force that blocked the Gates of Heaven, smashing it wide open. “GO NOW!”

The Descended Nyx was fighting stared, mouth wide at the Gates of Heaven. Nyx took the moment to cut off the Descended’s left wing, sending him spiraling down to the earth.

“Good luck, Mother!”

“Kick God’s ass!” sent Persephone. “And hurry!”

Nyx drove herself up and through the Gates of Heaven, which she had not passed in longer than the universe had existed.

Persephone twisted in the air, intercepted Ishtar’s blade, and ran her own right back along the length of it, trying to drive the point into Ishtar’s face. Ishtar flew backward and parried, then charged forward once again.

Bitch. Ishtar thought as she struggled to kill the person who had once been her best friend. It was a chant in her head now: Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch. She parried the blade and cut low, hacking for Persephone’s stomach while her whip sought Persephone’s eyes. Persephone dodged the whip, parried the blade, and used her own whip to lash four feathers out of Ishtar’s left wing.

“I will kill you, bitch!” snarled Ishtar. “We could have had everything! We could have had Paradise! And you fucked it all!”

“Wrong,” said Persephone through tightly clamped teeth. She lashed out with blade and whip, was parried and countered. She redirected the attacks and returned with her own. “You betrayed us, Ishtar. And I will never forgive you for it!”

“I don’t need your forgiveness! I don’t want your forgiveness!”

Persephone twisted and cut, her blade scoring deeply into Ishtar’s arm. “Then stop talking and fight!”

Ishtar snarled and swore and launched a fresh series of attacks, while all around them, Descended Angels fell from the sky, screaming in pain from severed limbs and hacked-open bodies.

The fight was going badly, Lucifer realized. His army was winning to be sure, but it was taking much longer than it should. He could not fail—he would not fail. Tribunal wanted his army to kill all the other Descended and destroy the humans before Tribunal got done with Epiphenia. It was the only way he could make up for his failure to stop Nyx.

Lucifer’s sword appeared in his hand. He looked down at it and realized what it meant. That bitch is gone. She went through the Gates of Heaven.

A deep, heavy rage possessed Lucifer then. An envy-filled hatred for Nyx and everything that she had become, everything that he should have been. It was so deep and so strong that it threatened to explode Lucifer’s chest. He roared, and for the first time since Nyx had cut him open and stolen his sword, joined the battle.

“We will destroy them, my master!” screamed Lucifer as he launched himself skyward and hacked one of Nyx’s Descended in two. “We will destroy them all!”

Then Tribunal and Epiphenia vanished, and the brilliant white light that had been driving out from each of them disappeared, plunging the broken remains of the city of Firozkoh into darkness.

Tribunal looked around. The air was gone, replaced with a thick, freezing gas that stunk of sulfur. There was no vegetation, no life, and no sign of humanity. There was not even solid ground to stand on. The thick gas around them just coalesced into a liquid that was not water. There were only two people present—himself and Epiphenia, both standing lightly on top of the mass of liquid.

Tribunal looked up, his gaze piercing through the hundreds of miles of clouds and into the sky beyond. When his eyes turned back to Epiphenia, he seemed surprised. “Why?” he asked, “are we on Jupiter?”

“Because you and I both know that we can’t fight this fight on Earth,” said Epiphenia. “Not without destroying it.”

“And you don’t want to destroy the humans?” said Tribunal. “How touching.”

“Most humans are far more deserving than you, you spoiled little princeling. In any case, you don’t want to be seen destroying the humans,” said Epiphenia. “And since Earth is God’s favorite playground, he might just notice if you unleash the sort of power you’re going to need to destroy me.”

“Say what you like, “ said Tribunal. “I’m going to destroy all of Creation, including you.”

Epiphenia smiled. “Good luck with that.”

Tribunal smiled back nastily, and the gasses around them swirled and turned red as he launched his attack. Epiphenia raised her own energy in defense, and once more the battle began.

Persephone and Ishtar broke apart and stared at one another in the darkness. All around them, the Descended stopped fighting each other and went still. For the briefest of moments, there was silence. The Descended on either side looked at each other, unsure whether to continue their battle.

Then Tribunal’s voice erupted in their heads. “I will return. And when I do, let none of the traitors be standing.”

“Shit,” muttered Persephone. She raised her sword.

“You heard him!” bellowed Lucifer. “Kill them all!”

Must do something must do something must do something… Persephone blocked a dozen cuts from Ishtar in the time it took to think the thought. If only we could get rid of them and keep them from coming back at us…

Persephone pulled out her whip, cracked it, and opened a pit to Hell. She spun away from Ishtar, cut off the nearest enemy’s wings and threw him down. He fell, screaming with rage. Persephone caught two more before they realized what she was doing.

“You don’t need to kill them!” she sent. “Just drop them down to Hell again!”

In the space of a heartbeat the one pit became fifty, then a hundred, then a thousand, until there were so many they merged into one giant pit into Hell, bathing the area with a glowing red light. Persephone’s Angels changed tactics, killing where they could, cutting enough to send others down into the pits, or, if they were falling, dragging others with them.

It isn’t going to be enough, Persephone thought, as more of her own Angels fell and Ishtar once more charged. But it may buy us a little more time.

On the surface of Jupiter, Epiphenia and Tribunal hammered at one another with so much power that the gasses around them lit on fire and the planet, so much bigger than the Earth, shook. Tribunal was raising the amount of power he used with every moment, and for now, Epiphenia was matching him.

I won’t be able to much longer, though, Epiphenia thought as she raised her own power, sending it to him from a dozen different directions. He repulsed them all, though he wasn’t having an easy time of it. She could see from his face that it was becoming a strain. When will he use it? Epiphenia wondered. When will he bring together his true power and use it on me?

And how much more time can I buy Mother?

The path to Heaven is easy for a soul. Those who are destined for Heaven feel the pull, the strong desire to be in God’s presence. They rise up through the Gates and begin the long, slow climb to Heaven. They grow lighter and more filled with the love of God and the joy of knowing that they go to an eternity of bliss.

For Angels, the journey back up to Heaven is a time of cleansing, of releasing all thoughts of Earth and Creation, and focusing their entire beings on nothing but the joy of being in the divine presence of God.

And how the fuck am I supposed to do that? wondered Nyx.

She flew upwards, strong and steady, her wings beating hard and fast. She was not the only one to go through the Gate. A group of Descended had followed her, each one clambering, not after Heaven, but after her.

They would fall soon, she knew.

She had made this climb so many times, before God had made the Universe. Even then, there were other places, other dimensions beyond that which God had made or controlled. The Angels used to visit them, to see things that could not even be imagined by humans. Nyx had ridden on the tail of a comet, passing through the primordial gasses that made up a world in a dimension that God had not created. She had stood on the surface of worlds made of glass, and others where the lava fires still burned across the planet.

And every time, filled with the wonder and joy of what she had seen, she had flown through the Gates, and turned all her thoughts toward God, to seeing him again, and sharing her adventures, and basking in his love.

What happened to me anyway?

It wasn’t like she had not been happy for the first eon, or even the first ten. She had done God’s work, sat at his feet in Heaven and worshipped him. But then, somewhere, sometime, when she had been journeying though the universes that existed beyond Creation, when she had watched God preparing to build a world, sometime in there she had wanted more.

I just wanted to make my own decisions. To go without asking, to decide without consulting, to know that my will was my own and not some divine implantation that God had placed in me without my knowing, the way Tribunal placed the desire to love him.

Nyx’s wings were growing heavier, and every beat of them was beginning to hurt.

The other Descended were far below her, struggling to fly at all. Three had already fallen. The last few were flying farther behind.

How the fuck do I leave this all behind? Nyx wondered. I’ve hated God for longer than there’s been time.

Her wings now felt like lead, and some of the feathers were beginning to fall out, making it even harder for her to get any upward momentum.

I can’t fail. I can’t quit. I can’t let everyone down.

I need to get to Heaven.

The next flap of her wings failed to bring her any higher. On the one after that she started sinking.

Oh, no. Please no. I have to get there. I have to.

Still she sank down; still feathers fell from her wings, and still with every flap the wings grew heavier.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I am Queen of Hell! I will not fail at this. I must get to Heaven! I have to stop Tribunal! I have to save Creation!

The Gate to Earth, so far below before, was starting to draw closer. Nyx was gaining speed, she realized. Fortunately, the Descended below her were falling even faster. Only one was left on this side of the Gate, and as Nyx watched it fell out of the Path to Heaven and back to the mortal world beyond.

I can’t do this! I can’t fail! They’re all depending on me! I have to help them. I have to see God!

I have to see God.

I can’t think of them. I can’t let them distract me.

So stop fucking thinking of yourself and concentrate. With brutal strength born of eons in Hell, and twenty years of unspeakable torture in the bottom of the lake of Fire, Nyx concentrated her thoughts on a single, driving idea. I want to see God, and feel his divine presence in front of me.

I want to see God and feel his divine presence in front of me.

I want to see God.

Her wings felt lighter.

I want to see God.

I want to see God.

I want to see God.

Nyx started moving upward again. Floating up, then flying up, then speeding up as fast as her wings could carry her. She left behind all thoughts of Earth, of Tribunal, of Epiphenia and Persephone. She thought only of God, and how desperate she was to see him again.

And as she flew up, she began to feel God’s presence.

It took her breath away.

Nyx had spent thousands of years ruthlessly suppressing her memory of what it felt like to be near God. The pain of knowing what she had lost had been so great that she had hidden the sense of it deep inside herself, in a place where she didn’t have to think about it or feel it at all. In a place where, for an Angel that never forgot, it was as close to being gone as it could be.

The presence grew stronger and stronger until it vibrated through every fiber of Nyx’s being. Nyx no longer needed to think about being in God’s presence. She could feel that presence and desired it more than anything else in the universe.

It was joy and longing all at once. It filled her up and made her far more Nyx than she had been in thousands of years. Yes, this is who I am. I had forgotten. Yes.

She broke through the clouds and saw Michael standing at the inner Gates of Heaven, welcoming souls. Michael’s jaw dropped, and it was funny enough to bring a smile to Nyx’s lips as she flew up the last little bit and landed on the ledge that stood outside the Gates of Heaven. I’m here!

Nyx began running for the Gate, knowing that as soon as she stepped over it, she would bring down the full wrath of God upon herself. And I will be unmade. I only hope it’s enough. That he hears me first.

Then Tribunal’s voice ripped through Heaven, “THE SELF-STYLED QUEEN OF HELL DARES TO APPROACH THE GATES OF HEAVEN!” Tribunal sent. “MICHAEL, STOP HER!”

Nyx’s heart fell as Michael stepped through the Gates of Heaven and drew his flaming sword.

Chapter 17

TRIBUNAL WAS BLOWN back two hundred miles from the force of Epiphenia’s strike.

He was spirit only, but even so, the energy that Epiphenia had unleashed on him was enough to hurt a great deal. I’m immortal, Tribunal thought. I am God. I cannot be destroyed.

“You are not God,” Epiphenia said. “You are an aspect of God. And aspects of God vanish all the time.”

“I AM GOD!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I AM!”

There were less than a hundred thousand of them, now, and nearly a million of Lucifer’s army around them. Persephone had pulled every trick she knew. She’d used rotating battlefronts, used the clouds for cover, used wave attacks. They’d dropped thousands of their enemies into Hell. Some of her army managed to drag Lucifer’s Descended with them as they fell, defeated. Everything had worked, and everything had slowed their defeat, but defeat was still inevitable.

Lucifer had pulled his troops back, letting his Angels heal. They were spread out wide across the sky to contain the others.

Tribunal said they had to kill us all first, Persephone thought. That’s why they haven’t gone after the humans. That’s why they’re still fighting us.

“Break out!” Persephone screamed. “Head for the ends of the Earth! They can’t destroy the humans until they destroy us all, and they can’t kill what they can’t catch! GO!”

The Angels took off in every direction possible. Thousands were intercepted in the first moments, tens of thousands in the moments after. Persephone wasn’t one of them. She hacked, spun, clawed, bit, and kicked her way out of the surrounding Descended and into the clouds above. Ten other Angels pursued her, but she wasn’t worried about them. They weren’t even close enough to be a problem, and there wasn’t one of them she couldn’t beat.

And there was only one Descended Persephone was interested in. And I’ll be damned if I’ll let her outlive me.

“Michael,” said Nyx. “I need to talk to God.”

“I know,” said Michael. “God isn’t talking to anyone anymore.”

“If I step on the soil of Heaven, he will come to me,” said Nyx. “If he has the slightest awareness of what’s going on, he’ll feel that and he’ll come.”

“I know,” said Michael. “I’m sorry, Nyx.”

Michael’s voice was calm, but his face was a mask of straining muscles.

“You don’t look so good, Michael.”

“I’ve been better,” said Michael. He pulled the sword the rest of the way out of the scabbard. She could see his body trembling as he fought every movement.

“Tribunal’s going to destroy it all, Michael,” said Nyx. “Everything.”

“I know,” said Michael. “And he’s just told me to stop you.”

Nyx looked behind Michael and saw row after row of Angels coming to the Gates. They poured out of the buildings and flew down from the sky. None had their armor on. None was armed. They all seemed curious as much as anything else.

Probably haven’t seen a show like this in eons. “I just have to step on the soil of Heaven,” Nyx called to Michael. “That’s all. I’ll just put a foot on it. Then God will come and crush me and everything will be done. What’s the harm?”

“You’ll be destroyed.”

“But not until God knows what’s going on.”

“I know,” said Michael. “That’s why Tribunal is making me stop you.”

Nyx’s teeth ground together in frustration. “We don’t have time, Michael! Creation doesn’t have time!”

“I know, Nyx,” said Michael and more sorrow than Heaven had ever seen was in his voice. “And I still don’t have a choice.”

Nyx sighed and opened her hand for her sword. It didn’t appear. Of course. I broke it on Tribunal. She brought out her whip and with a thought, changed it into a two-handed blade.

“Don’t do this,” Arcana sent to her. “There has to be another way.”

Nyx glanced down in surprise at the head hanging from her belt. “Fuck, I’d forgotten about you.”

“Don’t swear. This is Heaven.”

“No, that is Heaven,” said Nyx, thrusting her chin past Michael. “This is the doorstep and Michael’s going to kill us here.” She reached down with her sword blade and cut the hair holding Arcana to her belt. She looked at Michael. “Is it all right if Arcana comes home?”

“Of course,” said Michael. “How did you get her head?”

“Took it from Tribunal.”

“Good. Thank you. ”

Nyx lofted Arcana’s head in an easy throw through the Gates of Heaven.

Raphael caught it. “Welcome home,” he said. “Tell us your story.”

Arcana opened her mind to Raphael, and to all the other Angels in Heaven.

Maybe that will help, thought Nyx as she hefted her blade. She managed a smile. “So, Michael, ready for a rematch?”

On Jupiter, Epiphenia could feel her strength waning. Tribunal kept hammering at her defenses, searching for weaknesses and finding them a half-hundred times every second. Epiphenia blocked them as soon as he found them, but the attacks were coming faster and more furious now. Tribunal was starting to pour his true strength into the fight, and Epiphenia knew there was only so much strength she could throw back without destroying half the universe.

And that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? More importantly though, she knew it would not stop him. She could mock him as much as she liked—and she was keeping up a steady stream of belittling insults in every language known to humanity as she fought him—but the truth was, he was far more powerful than she, and capable of destroying her with a thought. The only reason that he hadn’t was that most of his power was being used to keep God from seeing what he was doing. And the longer he takes fighting me, the longer Nyx has to get through.

“Is that what this is about?” sent Tribunal. “I wondered.”

“It’s about us destroying a petty little tyrant,” said Epiphenia. “And you will not stop us.”

“Wrong,” sent Tribunal. “As of now, this fight is over.”

This time, the blast of power he used was enough to break through almost all of Epiphenia’s defenses. She went flying backward and sank into the rough liquid. Tribunal’s power poured down on her, stronger than before. Epiphenia abandoned all hope of offense and wrapped her own power like a shell around herself, putting all her strength and will into staying alive a little bit longer, so that Nyx could step through the Gates of Heaven and confront God.

With Michael, combat moved beyond violence and into the realm of art.

Nyx was very, very good. She’d fought Michael to a standstill for a hundred years in the war for Heaven. She’d spent thousands of years since fighting for power, for control, and just for the fun of it. She was one of the greatest warriors in the universe.

And he was Archangel Michael, warrior of God, general of God’s army, leader of the Holy Host, and nothing in Creation could surpass him.

Their blades flickered and danced with one another, the sounds of them meeting and breaking apart so fast as to be an almost continuous ring, and so loud as to reach back through the ranks of the Angels watching.

The expressions on the Angels’ faces had changed since Arcana had shared her story. Where there had been curiosity, there was now fear. Where there had once been concern, there was now the horrified realization that, though they all felt they should go to God, or stop Tribunal, they were totally incapable of doing so because of the command that Tribunal had put on all of them. Instead, all they could do was watch and suffer their helplessness.

Raphael looked at Arcana’s head and frowned. Then he cradled it close to his body and willed all of his power into her. A moment later, a hundred other Angels reached out and added their power, too. Arcana’s body began to grow once more, far faster than normal.

“Dammit, Michael!” yelled Nyx, as his blade grazed her face and opened up her cheek. “Fight Tribunal’s power, will you?”

“Oh, I am fighting it,” said Michael through gritted teeth. “Why do you think you’re still standing?”

“Because I’m as good as you are!” snapped Nyx as she evaded a swing and charged in again. “Last time we took a hundred years!”

“Last time,” said Michael, dodging and blocking a dozen attacks without any apparent effort, “I was trying to give you time to come to your senses.”

“Bullshit,” said Nyx.

“Don’t swear, we’re in Heaven.”

“Like I care!”

“Find an opening, Nyx,” ground out Michael, as he deflected her blade a dozen more times. “Please. Before it’s too late.”

In the end, it was Ishtar who found Persephone over the mountains of what would be called South America.

They had sensed each other for hours, but Persephone was too busy dodging other Descended to deal with Ishtar immediately. Lucifer’s army was still strong and active, and his Descended were slowly hunting down all the survivors of Nyx’s army. Persephone had killed over a hundred, turning them to silver dust floating on the wind. Ishtar, who had been busy doing her own killing, spotted Persephone and dove down on her, screaming as she attacked.

Persephone met her in the air, smashing Ishtar’s sword aside and feeling the force of Ishtar’s body slamming into her. Sword and whips gave way to teeth and claws as the two grappled and fought one another through the sky. Other Descended saw them, but the sheer hatred radiating from each of them was enough to make them give the two a wide berth and search for other prey.

Ishtar was the better grappler of the two and fought viciously dirty, drawing blood, and ripping into flesh and muscle a hundred times as they twisted through the air. But if Ishtar was the better fighter, Persephone was the better tactician. Persephone didn’t bother trying to free herself. She knew Ishtar’s style of fighting backward and forward, and knew that any escape attempt, now that Ishtar was on her, would be fruitless.

She also knew that Ishtar tended to forget about everything except the person she was fighting.

Which was how, a moment before they were about to crash into the top of a cliff, Persephone managed to reverse them in the air and slam Ishtar headfirst into the mountainside while Persephone rolled over the top. The move cost Persephone the chunk of her shoulder that had been in Ishtar’s teeth, but from the enormous spray of silver blood that flew up when they hit, it had cost Ishtar a fair amount more than that.

Persephone rolled to her feet, sword and whip once more in her hand, flew up in the air and straight down, following Ishtar’s tumbling body. Ishtar had control of her flight in less than a second, and was able to parry the thrust from Persephone’s blade that had been aimed at her eye.

Which left her open for Persephone’s whip, which was already coming around to slice the feathers off one of Ishtar’s wings before the other could bring her own whip up to block. Ishtar screamed in frustration and rage and grabbed Persephone, dragging her downward to the Earth with her.

Persephone let Ishtar pull her in, let the other Angel claw her way up her leg and sink fangs into her belly, ripping open the flesh and tearing into Persephone’s entrails, seeking the heart. Persephone changed her sword into a dagger and plunged it again and again into Ishtar’s head, shoulders and back, seeking the spinal column. On her tenth stab, she hit it and watched as Ishtar’s body convulsed and she lost momentary control of her limbs.

It was only for the shortest of moments, but it was enough.

Persephone switched their positions in the air again, slamming Ishtar against the wall and dragging her down the cliff face, ripping the flesh of her back open and tearing feathers from her wings. Ishtar howled in rage until her spine repaired itself enough to let her use her body again. She dug her feet into the wall and pushed off it, but Persephone was already prepared, spinning her and slamming her back against the cliff. Ishtar caught hold of Persephone and brought her in close, teeth snapping for Persephone’s neck.

Both their legs broke when they hit the ground. Ishtar used the momentum to bounce into the air and smash down on top of Persephone, teeth and claws slashing.

The pain of Persephone’s blade entering her heart was exquisite.

The two lay on the ground, face-to-face in an embrace of blood and death. They stared into each other’s eyes, hatred and love clear in each other’s expressions.

“Well,” said Ishtar. “Fuck.”

“You shouldn’t have betrayed us,” said Persephone, her lips nearly touching Ishtar’s with every word. “You shouldn’t have left us alone in Hell. You should have fought with us!”

“Yeah, well, should have…” Ishtar looked down. “You going to twist that?”

“Yes,” said Persephone. “Goodbye, Ishtar.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” said Ishtar, lunging forward and sinking her teeth into Persephone’s face.

Persephone twisted the dagger and Ishtar burst into an explosion of silver dust.

“Fuck you, too,” said Persephone.

She knew she should get up, should get back to the fight before Lucifer’s Descended came back to face her. Instead, she lay where she was, letting her body heal as she looked up at the stars above her through the glittering cloud of dust that had once been her best friend.

Nyx, she thought. I hope you’re okay. I hope you get God’s ear and he stops Tribunal and forgives you for entering Heaven. I hope this was all worth it.

Epiphenia plowed backward through the liquid surface of Jupiter. Her armor was mostly torn from her body, her exposed skin cracked and burned and slick with the bright green that was her blood. She tried raising her defenses again, but Tribunal smashed through them without effort, ripping her body and mind open with each strike.

“It’s a pity we don’t have more time,” Tribunal sent. “I could spend eons tormenting you.”

Epiphenia curled into a ball, making the shield around her body as small as possible as she gathered her strength one more time. Tribunal’s power smashed into her again and again, driving her deep beneath the surface of Jupiter.

“But since I don’t have time for that,” sent Tribunal, “I’m just going to kill you. Now.”

“Yes,” sent Epiphenia back. “But not here.”

A massive burst of power slammed down where Epiphenia lay, igniting the gray and brown clouds around them into a deep, red mass that grew and grew as the power of the strike dissipated.

In Heaven, Arcana leaned on Raphael’s hand and rose unsteadily to her feet. She could feel her body getting stronger with every second, but still wasn’t strong enough to stand by herself. Her voice rasped when she spoke for the first time. “Don’t just stand there! Help her!”

“We can’t,” said Raphael. “We’re not allowed out of the Gate.”

“Then get God to help!”

“Tribunal won’t allow us to do that, either,” said Raphael quietly. He looked through the Gate where Nyx and Michael stood, toe-to-toe, locked in combat. “We can’t do anything except watch.”

Persephone was just coming to her feet when Epiphenia fell out of the sky like a rock and blew a crater into the valley where Persephone stood. Persephone ducked and covered her head as debris rained down on her. When there was nothing more than dust in the air, she rose and walked forward to the edge of the pit. Epiphenia was lying in the center of the crater, her broken body slowly healing itself—far slower than it had ever healed before.

Persephone slid down the side of the pit and took Epiphenia in her arms. The Angel of Earth cried out with the pain of it, but clung onto Persephone. Persephone felt something she barely remembered. Friendship, loyalty—those she was used to. But this? This was…love. This was different. Why now? she thought. We’re going to die.

“You have to get out of here,” Epiphenia said, her voice nearly too faint to hear. “He’s coming.”

“If he’s coming,” said Persephone, “there’s nowhere to go to anyway.” She looked up and spotted a streak of light coming through the sky. “Too bad, though, I was hoping to have a chance to take on Lucifer.”

Epiphenia clung harder to her. “I’m sure you would have beaten him.”

“Doubt it,” said Persephone, “but it would have been fun to try.”

Epiphenia managed to raise her head and turn it a bit. “Is there any sign of Mother?”

Persephone shook her head. “Haven’t seen anything, haven’t heard anything, and when God’s involved, you tend to hear things.”

“I suppose,” said Epiphenia. “I never met him.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re going to either,” said Persephone, watching the streak of light growing larger and closer. “Tribunal’s nearly here.”

Above them, the streak turned into a fireball, bigger than Persephone had seen since the creation of the Earth. She tightened her grip around Epiphenia.

“I’m sorry,” said Epiphenia. “I didn’t stop him long enough.”

“I’m sorry, too,” said Persephone, and closed her eyes to the coming light.

This is stupid! Nyx thought. Michael was fighting against Tribunal’s control. Nyx could see the strain on his face, could see every muscle and sinew resisting every cut, parry and thrust. And even so, he was still faster, stronger, and better than Nyx. Fleetingly, Nyx wished for a tenth of the strength that she’d had before, when Tribunal had filled her with the power of Creation.

She launched another string of attacks, hoping to break through Michael’s guard. Nothing worked. She screamed at him, defiance and rage and helplessness going into the wordless howl as she attacked harder and harder.

Then Arcana charged Michael from behind.

For the first time in eons, Nyx saw Michael move at full speed. The Warrior of God spun and parried her cut to his legs, then tipped his sword point up and rammed it into Arcana’s chest so fast that Nyx could barely see it move. Arcana’s mouth went wide, and in the microsecond before Michael started moving again, she drove herself onto the blade up to the hilt and grabbed his arms with both hands.

Nyx dodged around him and dashed for the Gates of Heaven.

Michael threw Arcana off himself, letting his blade stay in her chest as he lunged after Nyx. Nyx jumped and spun in the air, hoping the whirling of her body would be enough to stop Michael from grabbing her. It wasn’t.

Michael’s hand snagged around her ankle.

Nyx’s armor vanished from her body at the same moment that she twisted and swung her sword behind her, its edge keener than any scalpel’s blade. Michael twisted to try to throw her aim off, but it wasn’t him she was aiming at. Instead, her blade sliced neatly through her own knee, leaving Michael holding the bloody remains of her lower leg. He threw it aside almost as soon as she’d cut it off and lunged for her again.

His hands wrapped around her neck at the moment her foot touched down, just inside the Gates of Heaven.

Chapter 18

PERSEPHONE RAISED HER head and blinked in surprise. How the fuck am I still alive?

The Earth around them was on fire. Anything that had been alive was roasted, and the ground itself was scorched so hot that it had become glass, save for a small circle around Persephone and Epiphenia.

“Impressive,” said Persephone. “I thought you were dead.”

“Almost,” whispered Epiphenia. “But not yet.”

“Yeah, well,” said Persephone, watching Tribunal, once more in the flesh, striding toward them with a twisted sneer on his face. “I think that’s all we’re going to get.”

There was silence in Heaven.

Michael’s hands slipped away from Nyx’s throat and fell to his side. It had been his duty to keep her out of Heaven, and he had failed. And now that he had failed, there was no reason to try to stop her anymore. He breathed a sigh of relief. “I will go help Arcana.”

Azrael, Raphael and Gabriel moved through the crowd to stand in front of Nyx. “Welcome,” said Gabriel. “Surprised to see you, though.”

“Me, too,” said Azrael. “God forbade you Heaven.”

“Then God can come down and kick me out,” said Nyx.

“Which is interesting,” said Raphael. “Because God should be doing that right now.”

As one, the gathered Angels looked toward God’s mountain. There was no sign of movement.

“Very interesting,” said Azrael. “Now what can we do?”

“Very little,” said Arcana. She stepped back into Heaven, leaning heavily on Michael’s shoulder. “If the Queen of Hell setting foot on Heaven’s soil doesn’t get God’s attention…”

“Nothing is going to,” said Michael.

“Maybe if we were to knock on his door,” said Nyx.

“Tribunal prevents us,” said Michael. “Otherwise, we most certainly would be on the mountain right now.”

“He’s not preventing me,” said Nyx.

“Or me,” said Arcana. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” said Raphael.

“Creation is at stake!” snapped Nyx. “We can’t wait!”

“We can,” said Raphael. “In fact, we must.” He sent to every Angel in Heaven at once. “Come to the Gates. Fast.”

“Having them here isn’t going to do me any good,” said Nyx. “Come on, Arcana.”

Raphael laid a hand on Nyx’s shoulder and let all his power flow into her. Her leg, which had been slowly growing back, was suddenly there again. And still the power kept flowing. Azrael laid his hand on Raphael’s shoulder and let his power flow as well. Another Angel stepped up and laid his hand on Azrael’s shoulder, than another. One by one the Angels of Heaven formed a web, reaching out with hands, wings, and occasionally feet to let their power flow from themselves to Nyx. Raphael, God’s healer, stood strong and let all the power flow through him. Michael added his own, a burst of strength so strong it nearly made Nyx dizzy. After a moment’s hesitation, Arcana laid her hand on Nyx’s shoulder as well. “You go to the mountain,” she said. “I’ll wait here with everyone else.”

The sky and ground was soon thick with Angels, and more of them came every second. Still the power poured into Nyx, stronger and stronger.

The first Angel collapsed to the ground, sliding gracefully from standing to lying. Another Angel stepped in and took that one’s place. More Angels collapsed, their power, their very life essence flowing out of their bodies and into Nyx. Nyx felt stronger and more powerful than she had since she created Epiphenia. And still more Angels came. I hope it’s enough.

“Oh, it won’t be enough to stop Tribunal,” said Raphael. More power flowed through him and more Angels collapsed to the ground.

“I’m surprised he’s not up here, destroying you, in fact,” said Azrael.

“Let’s just count ourselves lucky on that,” said Michael. He started wavering on his feet and, just before he fell, said, “God be with you, Nyx.”

“That is the point,” said Nyx, smiling at the big Angel. “Sleep well.”

“Oh, they’re not asleep,” said Raphael. “None of them. They’re all drained of all divine energy.”

Nyx’s eyes went wide. “They’re dead?”

Raphael smiled benevolently. “No one dies in Heaven, Nyx. You know that. But until they are once more in the presence of God, they shall be… inert.”

“Which is good,” said Azrael. “If it is the end of everything, I know they would rather have given everything to help, than be left standing to watch it all fail.”

“But to finish my point,” said Raphael. “This won’t stop Tribunal, but it might be enough to break his shield, if done at the right time.”

“Then let’s hope this is the right time,” said Nyx. “Because he’s either going to be up here in a moment, or he’s already destroying Creation.”

“We can’t see beyond the edge of Heaven,” said Raphael. “Can you?”

Nyx tried to reach out with her senses. “No.”

“Unfortunate. I would love to know what is going on down there.”

“That’s two of us.”

Well, thought Persephone. Not how I expected to die.

She lay on the ground, her wings pinned to the Earth by spikes Tribunal had made from her femurs, just after he’d waved a hand and caused her legs to explode from her body. The legs were slowly growing back, but Persephone had no doubt it would not be in time. She had tried pulling the stakes out and Tribunal had made her arms vanish from the elbows down, leaving two stumps that sprayed silver ichor onto the smoking, scorched Earth.

Can’t see what Nyx saw in him, thought Persephone as she watched the blood flow tapering down from her wrists. He seems more Ishtar’s style. She forced her head to come up and found Tribunal standing before Epiphenia’s writhing, screaming form. Definitely Ishtar’s style.

“How does it feel, little aberration?” Tribunal asked inside Epiphenia’s head. “How does it feel to be helpless, useless, and in such agony that you wish you could die?” He pulled back one foot and kicked her in the stomach, sending a burst of power into her body as he did. Epiphenia’s scream choked off in a gasp of wheezing and coughing. Tribunal pulled back and kicked her three more times. “I remember when I was human,” he sent. “I remember watching three men do this to another until he died. And still it was more merciful than the death that was granted me.”

“Oh big deal,” shouted Persephone. “You got crucified. Suck it up.”

Tribunal stopped kicking Epiphenia. His eyes, when they turned on Persephone were filled with anger and madness. “What?”

“Try a thousand years in the Lake of Fire,” said Persephone. “Then you can whine about how hard it’s been for y—”

Persephone’s tongue ripped from her throat and floated out. Persephone shouted in shock and pain. Tribunal hung her tongue in the air in front of Persephone’s eyes. Persephone let out a wordless bellow and struggled harder against the bones that pinned her. Tribunal smiled and Persephone’s tongue exploded in front of her face.

“Be quiet when your betters are speaking,” he said. “I am glad you are awake, though.” He drove another boot in Epiphenia’s side. “I want Epiphenia to have someone to hold her up while Creation dies around her.” Tribunal delivered one more ferocious kick to Epiphenia’s body and stepped away. The femurs holding Persephone in place dissolved, then her wings ripped from her body and flew onto the smoking plain around her. “Now crawl over and hold her up, and I’ll let you die peacefully instead of screaming.”

Persephone crawled. She reached Epiphenia and turned her over. The Earth Angel’s skull was broken and misshapen, her face twisted and unrecognizable. “Fuck,” said Persephone. “She’s not even conscious.”

“Of course she is,” said Tribunal. “I made sure of that.” He turned away, and the earth underneath him rose, driving him high into the sky on a pillar of rock. “Now watch, the pair of you.” He cast his eyes toward Heaven and began laughing. “That silly bitch Nyx thinks she’s going to see God before I end it all.”

Epiphenia moaned in agony. One part of her broken, jagged face slipped back into place.

Persephone winced in sympathy. “This sucks. Sorry we didn’t die.”

Epiphenia’s face twisted again, into what Persephone was pretty sure was a smile.

Above them all, so far away it wouldn’t be seen for a thousand years, a dozen stars went supernova.

“I am sorry you left,” said Raphael as another thousand Angels slipped away from consciousness and onto the ground. “We all were.”

“Yeah, well.” Nyx looked around at the many, many still bodies that now lay stacked around them. “This sure as fuck wasn’t how I wanted to come back.”

“Tsk, tsk,” said Raphael. “You really must do something about your language.”

“You’re worried about this now?”

Raphael smiled. “Not really.”

There was a jolt, as if the entirety of Heaven shifted slightly.

“Oh, dear,” said Raphael. “I do believe Tribunal has started.”

“Fuck! I have to—”

“I know,” said Raphael. “Look around.”

The last of the Angels fell to the earth, leaving a carpet of white wings and robes and armor that stretched for miles in every direction.

“Good luck, Nyx,” said Raphael, and fell to the ground.

Nyx rose into the skies of Heaven and flew to God’s mountain faster than any ever had before.

Tribunal looked up into the night sky. He could see it all. Not just the stars visible to the eye, which the lights of the burning Earth would have drowned out for any mere mortal. He could see all of Creation, spread out before him: every star, every planet, every speck of dust in between. He could see every living being, from the largest animals in the oceans to the smallest amoeba floating in the black oceans of a world so far from Earth that its star would die before the light of it reached Earth. He could feel the wind on a thousand worlds and see the rain’s first fall on a planet once made of molten rock. He could see all of time laid out behind him and the way the universe had moved since time had begun flowing.

He saw it all, and he hated it.

He raised his hands to the sky—puny, human hands, from the puny mortal shape that had once been his. He would wear it one last time, just to watch it dissolve with the rest of Creation. And when Creation was gone, when God was absorbed into Tribunal, and all was darkness and still, he would build his own Creation.

He reached out, grabbed the threads of the Universe in his hands, and pulled.

The world—indeed, all of Creation—lurched. Tribunal closed his eyes and let his mind wander through the design, examining how God had put it all together. It was beyond elegant, beyond anything Tribunal had thought possible, even in the thousand years he’d spent sitting at God’s side, learning all that he could. Creation was truly God’s greatest masterpiece.

And there, in the middle of it, was the one thread that could begin unraveling it all.

Tribunal smiled and reached out his hand.

“Hey, asshole!”

Given that he had ripped out Persephone’s tongue, the sound of her voice caught him off guard. He looked over his shoulder. She was standing again, her arms and legs whole. Her armor and sword, once black, now gleamed green and silver, and her blade danced with a green flame bright enough to blind any mortal eyes.

“Dance with me,” said Persephone. “Fight me. Just you and I. Let’s see who wins.”

Tribunal raised one finger, and Persephone was engulfed in flames. Her hair and wings went up like naphtha-soaked tissue. Her skin began to boil and melt away almost at once, and her eyes exploded in their sockets from the heat.

Persephone laughed. It was a gasping, honking laugh that sent flames into her lungs and threatened to burn her from the inside out, but still, she laughed at him.

“This all you got?” Persephone sent, her contempt-filled voice mocking him inside his head. “This is nothing. I did worse than this on a dare in Hell. Amateur.”

“Annoyance,” muttered Tribunal. His finger twitched, and Persephone’s laughter turned to screams.

“No,” sent Persephone, and even in her thoughts Tribunal could feel the pain she was in. It was exquisite to watch. He smiled at it, enjoying her torment right up until the moment Persephone said, “Distraction.”

And even as she said it Epiphenia rose up behind Tribunal and wrapped her arms around him.

Nyx slammed her sword against the throne of God, bounced off, roared, and smashed it again. God was there. He was right there. Nyx, leader of the rebellion in Heaven, Queen of Hell, chief corruptor of humanity, and torturer of a million souls, had set foot in Heaven against God’s express command. He should be angry. He should be punishing her. At the very least he should be reacting, but God just sat there, staring into space and smiling.

It was the smile that was the creepiest part.

Nyx let her sword vanish. She looked down at her armor, still stained with silver blood—her blood—from her fight with Michael and let it vanish, too. Naked, she knelt down in front of the throne of God and reached tentatively forward to touch the hem of his robe. Her hand skidded across it like it was coated with a thin layer of the smoothest ice imaginable.

“Well, that’s annoying,” Nyx said out loud. “But then, you always were annoying, weren’t you? Asshole.”

She tried again to touch him, this time reaching for his leg. Again her hand skidded away.

“All I ever wanted was free will,” Nyx said, bringing her hands together and closing her eyes. “Was it too much to ask?” She focused her mind. “I didn’t want to run Hell. I just didn’t want Lucifer to run Hell. Or anyone else. Because, really, after a thousand years in the Lake of Fire, they’re all pretty insane.” Slowly, gently, she began to bring the power of all the Angels to bear on the shield around God. “It probably made me insane, too.” Slowly, gently, she applied more and more power to the shield, watching carefully and reaching out with her mind to search for any weaknesses.

“I wonder if you know how bad Hell was when you sent us there?” Nyx said as she drilled her power harder and harder against the shield. “What am I saying? Of course, you did. You’re God. You know everything. Which makes you a right bastard, by the way.”

This was not like the last battle. This was far, far more intimate. This was body-to-body, power-to-power, naked strength versus naked strength. Epiphenia poured the energy from a dozen suns directly into Tribunal, crushing down on both his physical and spiritual self. For the briefest of moments, Tribunal was overwhelmed with the agony of it all, driven beyond all sense and reason.

It enraged him. He wrapped his arms around Epiphenia and used his own power—far, far more than he had ever used in one place at one time. Far, far more than he needed, he knew, but it was such a pleasure to release it. Tribunal smashed it all into Epiphenia, shattering her very being into bloody, jagged fragments that exploded out from him and sprayed the mountains around with flecks of green blood and charred bits of flesh and bone.

That was an indulgence, he thought. But it felt good.

Nyx felt the moment of weakness in the shield around God, and drove every ounce of the power she had been given, every ounce of her own power, into the shield like a spike driven through a block of ice.

Tribunal felt Nyx drive all the energy of Heaven’s Angels into the shield, and felt the shield crack beneath it. It was strong enough—she was strong enough to break through. He realized the mistake he had made putting so much power into killing Epiphenia. Did they plan that? It didn’t matter. I can still stop her.

Persephone’s sword hacked into his body, smashing down from above and cleaving his physical self into two. The pain surprised him for less than a millisecond. Even as the blade finished cleaving his physical self in two, Persephone was no more than a cloud of silver dust whirling in the winds of the fires below.

It was long enough.

YOU HAVE BROKEN OUR HOLY COVENANT, NYX.

Nyx lay on the ground, hands over her head, face grinding into verdant, fresh-smelling grass and sweet-smelling soil that surrounded the throne of God. God rose from his spot, the blinding white light that was his presence shining through the bones and flesh of Nyx’s arms and filling her so full with joy and terror at once that it seemed she would explode from it.

I’d forgotten what it was like to be close to him.

God’s presence wasn’t overbearing like Tribunal’s. It wasn’t the sort of power that pushed one down or threatened to overpower one. God’s power was all encompassing and when in his presence, one became not only filled with his power and majesty, but filled with the knowledge that one was part of that power and majesty. That God resonated within every fiber of one’s being, and that every fiber of one’s being resonated with God. He was, and, therefore, all other things were.

How exquisite this is. How right.

But right now, he was very, very angry.

In the burning valley in the mountains of South America, Tribunal looked up past the sky, past Creation, and beyond it into Heaven. He saw God rise from his throne, saw the shield around him shatter, and saw God become once more aware of Heaven.

But only of Heaven, thought Tribunal. Not Earth or Hell.

He turned the power he had been using on Heaven away from there and sent it instead into Lucifer’s Descended, who were still hunting the last of Nyx’s army. There were half a million of them, and every single one received a share of Tribunal’s power. The Descended roared out in joy and desire as the power flowed through them.

“COME TO ME!” Tribunal’s sending echoed around the Earth. “FLY TO ME, SURROUND ME, AND SHIELD ME SO THAT I MAY FINISH THE WORK I HAVE BEGUN FOR US ALL.”

As one, Lucifer’s army left off the chase and flew toward Tribunal.

YOU HAVE BROUGHT MY WRATH UPON YOURSELF. YOU WILL BE UNMADE, AND YOU WILL CEASE TO EXIST!

Now, the force of God’s power crushed down upon Nyx. She could feel her body starting to unravel, could feel her mind starting to disintegrate. There would be very, very little of her left, she knew, in a matter of moments.

“Wait!” she sent, and she watched her hands turn into silver dust in the grass. There was no blood, no pain, just a slow disintegration of her body. She looked behind and saw that her wings were already gone. “Yes, I have broken our covenant.” Her legs were dissolving now, and her arms. “Please, before you unmake me, see what is in my mind. See what has happened to the world. Please!”

Because He was God, and because He could see all, know all, and feel all, He did. And because she was in his presence, Nyx felt his surprise, anger and sadness.

And then, because she was the Queen of Hell, and because they had a covenant that meant her unmaking, she felt the rest of her body melting away into silver dust, until she felt nothing at all.

Chapter 19

TRIBUNAL STOOD ON his pillar of rock and felt all Creation flowing between his fingers. He’d once more gathered the threads together and once more had found the one that would unravel Creation. It would not be easy. The thread was interwoven with a near-infinite number of others, and cutting it would not make a difference. Cutting it would cause some jolts, end some lives, but Creation would mend itself. No, the thread had to be unraveled, and once that began, then he would be able to unravel the others easily enough.

All I need, he thought, is time.

All of Lucifer’s army now floated in the sky, between Tribunal and anything that God would send down. If he were to send down the full force of his wrath, there would be no hope, of course, but God rarely interfered directly. And as long as he can’t see what is happening on Earth, he won’t.

There.

Tribunal smiled, and the thrill of power ran through him. He had found the way to untangle and unravel the thread. Once he had done that, it would be easy. Creation would fall apart—the universe, Hell and then Heaven, until only God himself was left. And then Tribunal would destroy him as well.

“It ends here,” he said aloud, savoring the words. “Here and now, it ends!”

Tribunal reached out his hand…

Nyx stood on the tender grass in front of God’s throne. She was naked. And she was different.

Her skin was still pale, but not as it had been. Her teeth were still sharp, but not the jagged razors they had become in Hell. She looked at her hands and willed the talons to come, but they would not. Her sword was no longer at her side, nor her whip.

Nyx could feel her strength and it was as it had been before all this began. She was still divine, still a being of immense power. But she was no longer Descended. But not an Angel of Heaven, either. What am I?

THAT IS A VERY GOOD QUESTION.

Nyx looked up. God sat on his throne, his light so bright that she could not see his form, if, indeed, he had one. But there was no question now about God being gone. His divine power radiated off him so strongly that it had to be filling all of Heaven. God was awake.

The Angels! If God is awake, then they should be—

Nyx turned and saw the entirety of the Holy Host, floating in the sky behind her. They were in full armor, and the brilliance of it was blinding, even to Nyx’s divine eyes. Michael was floating in the front, his sword in his hand. He raised a hand in greeting.

HEAVEN IS BACK TO ITS TRUE NATURE AGAIN. AND IT IS YOUR DOING THAT HAS MADE THAT POSSIBLE.

“What about Earth?” Nyx demanded. “What about Hell? Can you see those?”

I CAN. BUT NOT AS THEY TRULY ARE.

“But… but you’re God! You’re everything. How can you not see what Tribunal is doing?”

The radiance of God changed, becoming warmer and stronger. He’s amused, Nyx realized. “This isn’t funny!”

NO, IT IS ABSURD. I AM GOD. I KNOW ALL, SEE ALL, HEAR ALL, AND AM A PART OF ALL. TRIBUNAL IS ALSO GOD. HE IS A PART OF ME, AND WHAT I AM SEEING IS ONLY WHAT THAT PART OF ME WANTS TO SEE.

“He’s destroying Creation! He’s pulling it all apart as we speak! You have to stop him!”

DO I?

“Yes! He will unmake all of us, and he’s going to unmake you! There isn’t time to be—”

The warmth of God’s radiance grew again.

“THIS ISN’T FUCKING FUNNY!” screamed Nyx. “THERE IS NO TIME!”

YES. THERE IS.

Tribunal opened his fingers….

TIME IS PART OF CREATION, AND ALL CREATION IS MINE.

“Oh.” Nyx looked down on herself. “Then… what happened to me?”

YOU CEASED TO EXIST. YOU WERE UNMADE AS PER OUR COVENANT. IT WAS A SACRED COVENANT AND CANNOT BE UNDONE, NO MATTER WHAT THE REASON FOR IT.

“And I came back different?

YES.

“Why?”

WHEN YOU DESCENDED INTO HELL, YOUR FORM WAS CHANGED. YOUR VERY BEING WAS CHANGED. YOU WERE NO LONGER AN ANGEL OF GOD.

“And now?”

NOW YOU ARE NO LONGER AN ANGEL OF HELL, EITHER.

“Then what am I?”

THAT IS UP TO YOU.

“What?”

THERE WILL BE TIME TO FIGURE IT OUT LATER. The radiating warmth that was God’s laughter flowed over her again. BUT FIRST, I WOULD HAVE YOU DEAL WITH TRIBUNAL.

“With pleasure,” said Nyx. “But I don’t have the power. He’s YOU, for fuck’s sake.”

“Nyx!” called an exasperated Michael from above and behind her. “Language!”

FOR A LITTLE WHILE, MY NYX, YOU WILL BE AS WELL.

And then God reached out and touched Nyx, and her vision went white with the agony of it.

Tribunal’s fingers wrapped around the thread of Creation. He summoned his power together. All that remained to do was send it through, and Creation would be undone.

“THEY COME!” Lucifer bellowed.

Tribunal didn’t look up. It didn’t matter what God sent now. He had the making of Creation in his grasp. All he needed to do was to pull the thread, and Creation would unravel.

“Pity you’re not getting the chance,” Nyx’s voice rang out loud in his head.

“Die,” sent Tribunal back, and he wrapped his hand around the thread and with all his powers, pulled.

It didn’t move.

“Not going to work,” sent Nyx.

“IN THE NAME OF GOD!” Michael shouted, and from the sky the Holy Host poured down like a rain of white-hot steel.

“FOR HELL!” screamed Lucifer, and a half-million Descended, black and red armored and glowing with hellfire, flew up to meet them.

The lines smashed together in a rain of gold and silver ichor, and then the sky was filled with chaos. Whips cracked, and feathers and flesh ripped from Angelic bodies. Divine steel, black and white, thrust and cut. Blades met and skidded against one another, or cut into flesh. Limbs flew, eyes were pierced, and Heavenly Angels and Descended alike screamed in pain.

Nyx wove her way through it all like a hawk weaving through a jungle canopy rife with predators. Twenty-three different Descended tried to engage her. She used her sword on the first one but realized as she did that she had a much simpler solution—one that Tribunal had used on her armies. Thereafter, the Descended who got in her way found their wings had vanished and that they were plummeting to the Earth. All it took was a thought on her part.

Nyx wondered if she could do the same to Lucifer’s entire army.

Possibly, but keep your eye on the prize, she admonished herself. I made a deal with God, and unlike his son, I don’t welch!

The power God had given her was stunning. She could see everything around her—everything. She could see the air moving under the wings of the battling Angels. She could see the individual molecules of nitrogen and carbon dioxide and oxygen spinning in little whirlwinds. She could sense the heat from the fires below, and the cold from the sky melting together above her and swirling with the force of the battle. She could track the path of every single drop of gold or silver blood as it fell from the sky to the Earth.

And in the midst of it, she sensed Persephone, Ishtar, and Epiphenia.

Nyx was so surprised she nearly took a sword in the face before making it and the owner’s wings vanish.

Their bodies had been destroyed, but they were still there. Their life forces were still intact, though they could not bring themselves back together. Not even Epiphenia, whose power was greater than any other Angel’s, could come back from what was done to her. But they’re still there.

I wonder if Caelum and Orion are still here, too?

Not that it matters right now…

Because just below her, Tribunal had let go of the fabric of the Universe.

Tribunal had sensed Nyx coming, had sensed the changes in her that God had wrought, could feel the power God had poured into the stupid little rebellious Angel. Of course, he sends her. He can’t even come down himself, so he sends her.

Tribunal unleashed a blaze of power that swept out of the mountains, rattling the earth as it went and killing everything in its path. Then he threw another one up at Nyx, splattering the Angels around her into gore and dust.

Except she wasn’t there anymore. She was beside him. With a gesture, she stopped both waves of energy.

“Now that,” she said, “was stunningly stupid.”

The power she smashed into him threw Tribunal off the pillar and halfway through the mountain on the far side of the valley. Nyx grinned at the expression of pain on his face.

The mountain exploded in a burst of rocks and flames that took ten thousand Angels down with it. Nyx thought a shield into place and watched the rocks spin away from her. Tribunal was on his feet, and he let out a roar that made the Angels around them wince. He blasted back enough energy that Nyx, even with her shield, was blown back a hundred yards.

“I will kill you, you bitch!” Tribunal screamed, his voice echoing through the mountains and into the hills beyond. He threw another blast of energy, even more powerful than the last, lighting the very air on fire. “I will burn you to a cinder!”

He might just manage it if I’m not careful, thought Nyx as she sent his blast of power off into space. God gave me greater power than him, but God didn’t make me invulnerable.

“And if I can’t burn you, then I will burn all of humanity!”

The fire that roared out this time wasn’t aimed at her, and it wasn’t firing through the sky. It erupted on the ground beneath him, and it burned hotter than the sun itself. The ground bubbled, and the flames grew out from him in a circle of death.

Nyx put a wall around the flames. Then she realized it wouldn’t be enough. The fire was burning into the Earth as well as across it. She extended the wall into a globe that held in the fire, kept it from burning a hole into the Earth. Then, out of sheer maliciousness, she started shrinking the globe so that it grew tighter and tighter around Tribunal.

She barely managed to dodge Lucifer as he charged down at her. She raised her hand to make his wings disappear, but stopped when Michael raced after him. The two clashed, Lucifer’s sword and whip attempting to break past Michael’s guard, and not succeeding. Nyx grinned. Let them sort it out.

Instead, she flew over to where Tribunal stood in the quickly closing ring of flames, and watched. Tribunal was sending more and more power into the ring, driving back the flames. Nyx matched him power for power and a little bit more, letting him feel the flames growing closer and closer.

“I WILL DESTROY YOU!” Tribunal screamed in her mind.

“Unlikely,” said Nyx, and wrapped Tribunal in flames. He screamed, long and loud as the fire burned into his flesh. Nyx watched his skin bubble and burn, and begin to char away.

Then she changed the flames to Hellfire.

All the heat vanished from the globe of fire. It was replaced by the bone-chilling cold of the blue flames. And inside, as they consumed Tribunal’s flesh, he relived all of his deceptions, his actions, his tortures, and his murders, as if he were the one to whom the actions had been done.

Nyx was still standing, watching, when Michael landed beside her. “The field is ours,” he said. He looked at Tribunal. “That’s a bit much isn’t it?”

“Have you ever been in Hellfire, Michael?” Nyx asked.

“No.”

“I spent a thousand years in the Lake of Fire because I wanted free will. That bastard tried to destroy Creation. He can damn well sit there until I’m good and ready to let him out.”

Michael frowned at the screaming, burning figure inside the globe of Hellfire. “And when will that be?”

Nyx turned her back on Tribunal. “Not for a fair while, yet.” Nyx walked across the battlefield, dodging bits of bloody Angel flesh, wings and feathers. “There are some things I have to do first.” She looked back over her shoulder. “If God asks, I’m keeping my promise.”

“Don’t worry,” said Michael. “He knows.”

Persephone opened her eyes as the sun was rising. She blinked in surprise and looked around. She was standing on the beach on their island in the Pacific Ocean. She smiled at Nyx. “Well, so far being dead looks good.”

“You’re not dead,” said Nyx. “Not anymore.”

“That’s a relief.” She looked Nyx up and down. “You’ve changed.”

“So have you.”

Persephone looked down. Like Nyx, she was no longer pale as snow. There was color in her flesh. She spread her wings and was surprised to find them gray instead of black. “Well, this is interesting. Now what?”

“Well, that’s up to us.”

“But we’re not Descended anymore.”

“No.”

“So we don’t have to go back to Hell.”

“No.”

“Good. Can we visit Heaven?”

“I don’t know,” said Nyx. “But since we’ve both faced the wrath of God and been unmade…”

“Then we should be allowed back for visits.” Persephone smiled. “I missed the gardens.” She stretched out, rubbed her hand down her body. “Mmmm… death makes me horny.”

“Everything makes you horny,” said Nyx, grinning. “Hold out for a while. We have some other stops to make.”

Persephone sashayed toward Nyx, putting some extra swing into her hips. “Surely we can take a few minutes.” She wrapped her arms around Nyx and gave her a long, deep kiss. Their tongues wrestled for a bit, then separated. “What do you say?”

“Not with the children watching.”

Persephone spun around, saw Epiphenia, squealed in delight and ran to her, throwing her arms around the Earth Angel. “You’re back, too!”

Epiphenia hugged her and smiled. “Apparently I am,” she said. Unlike Nyx and Persephone, she had returned to her true self, with her bright red hair and her green dress. “Thanks to Mother.”

“Thanks to God, actually,” said Nyx. “I never thought I’d hear myself say that. He gave me the power to deal with Tribunal and to find you two.”

“Find us?” Persephone’s eyebrows rose. “We were unmade!”

“You were still there,” said Nyx. “You were just too scattered to come back.”

“Oh.” Persephone thought about it. “That means Ishtar is out there, too.”

“Yes.”

Persephone bit her lip. “Are we bringing her back?”

Nyx looked out at the ocean and sighed. “We are. But not here.”

Persephone smiled and spread her new wings wide. “Then let’s go!” She jumped into the air and soared in a wide circle. “Hey! Can I kick her ass again?”

Nyx grinned but didn’t answer. She had her own plans for Ishtar.

Ishtar opened her eyes in darkness to the sounds of screams. She was in black armor, with her sword and whip in hand. She looked down at herself. She was unchanged and everything looked to be as it had been before she had died.

I’m alive, she thought. I’m alive and in Hell. How did…?

“Too bad it didn’t leave a scar,” said Persephone. “That would have taught you a lesson.”

Ishtar spun and saw Persephone, Nyx, and Epiphenia standing behind her. Nyx and Persephone had changed. The cold white of their skin had become as warm as if they were alive. Persephone smiled at Ishtar. “Hello, asshole.”

Ishtar’s hand went for her sword and froze in place as if the air around it had turned to amber.

“Be nice,” said Nyx. “Persephone, you too.”

“How am I alive?” demanded Ishtar.

“I put you back together again,” said Nyx.

“In Hell.”

“In my palace in Hell,” said Nyx. “Your palace now.”

Ishtar’s eyes went wide. “Bullshit.”

“Nope.”

“You’re Queen of Hell.”

“Not anymore,” said Nyx. “I don’t want this place anymore.”

“Just like that?” sneered Ishtar. “You’re done and I get to be Queen of Hell? Bullshit! Fucking Bullshit, Nyx! I betrayed you. I stabbed you in the back. And I get to be Queen of Hell?”

“Yes,” said Nyx. “You get to be Queen of Hell.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“Heaven, if I want it.”

Ishtar’s eyes flashed red. “How come you get Heaven?”

“Because I went there, and God unmade me. Persephone fought Tribunal, who is also God, and was unmade by him. So when God brought me back, and I brought Persephone back, we were no longer Descended, having faced God’s wrath.”

“You, on the other hand,” said Persephone, “just got destroyed by me. So it doesn’t count.”

Ishtar took a moment to process that. When she had, she spat onto the spiked earth of Hell. “Who the fuck wants Heaven, anyway?”

“Lucifer and his followers are waiting in the Lake of Fire,” said Nyx. “I had Michael chain them up and dump them in. You can get them out when you want. You’ll also have to deal with the Mother of Demons.”

“Lucifer?” Ishtar’s face brightened up. “Oh, I’ll have such fun with him.”

“You do that,” said Nyx. “Goodbye, Ishtar.”

“I’ll come to visit,” promised Persephone. “I won’t stay, but I’ll come visit once in a while.”

“Why the fuck would I let you visit?” demanded Ishtar. “You killed me.”

“You’re just sulky because I won,” said Persephone. “At least you don’t have to spend a week taking it like a boy this time.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” said Ishtar, but there was the ghost of a smile behind the words.

Nyx opened a gate to Earth right above them and spread her gray wings. With two quick strokes, she was in the air. Persephone and Epiphenia flew up right behind her.

“Hey!” yelled Ishtar. “What about Tribunal?”

“Don’t worry,” said Nyx. “He’s next.”

“Good,” said Ishtar. She watched them disappear through the gate to Earth. Then she smiled and walked out of the throne room into the plains of Hell. “Get me a harpoon,” she ordered the first Descended she saw. “It’s time to fish Lucifer out of the Lake.”

Seeing the look on Ishtar’s face, the Descended did exactly as she was told.

Michael raised a hand in greeting to Nyx and the others as they came up from Hell. “Welcome back.” He smiled at Nyx. “I have to say, I expected you to take longer.”

“I know,” said Nyx.

“Are you ready to deliver Tribunal back to God?”

“Part of him.”

“What?”

Nyx grinned at Michael’s confusion and let the ball of fire around Tribunal subside. Tribunal collapsed at the sudden cessation of pain. Nyx waited until his eyes had grown back and most of the flesh had returned to his bones before saying, “Hi, Tribunal. How are you feeling?”

He growled at her, and tried to gather power. Nyx smashed her own power down on him hard enough that he was knocked flat and driven six inches into the rock beneath where he lay. “Don’t even try it,” she said.

“Fuck you,” gasped Tribunal. “Just kill me and be done with it.”

“Kill you?” repeated Nyx. “Oh, I’m not going to kill you. I promised God that I wouldn’t.”

Tribunal pried his head out of the stone and glared up at her. “Then let me go.”

“Oh, I will. Both of you.”

“What?”

His expression of confusion was nearly identical to Michael’s. It made Nyx smile, and lasted just as long as it took her to grab the top of his head with two suddenly clawed hands. He yelped in pain as her fingers drove into his skull. Then he began screaming as she slowly, deliberately, tore him into two.

“Nyx!” Michael’s horror was clear in his voice. “What are you…?”

“Stay out of it!” snapped Nyx. She began pouring power into Tribunal even as she ripped him in two. His screams of agony became two screams of agony, and as Michael, Persephone, and Epiphenia watched, the two halves of his body became two identical-looking men.

Nyx released them both, and they collapsed to the ground. “Tribunal,” said Nyx, “meet Jesus.”

Both men blinked and stared in shock and surprise. The one that Nyx had called Jesus bowed his head and wept. Tribunal rose to his feet in anger. He tried to summon power and discovered that he had none at all. “What have you done to me?”

“God wanted you to come home,” said Nyx. “I wanted you to spend eternity in Hell. We came to an agreement. Caelum? Orion?”

Two Angels swooped down from the sky. “These two haven’t been home in a thousand years,” Nyx said. “So I’m sending them there. And they are taking Jesus.”

“I’m Jesus!” snapped Tribunal.

“No,” said Nyx, “you never were. But he—” she pointed to the man weeping on the ground “—is. He is all the goodness and light and decency God poured into you when you were born. And he will go to Heaven, where he, like any other God, will spend the rest of time listening to the calls of his followers. And who knows? He might even answer some.”

Jesus rose to his feet. His face was identical to Tribunal’s in every way, save that there was a kindness and sorrow in his eyes that had never appeared in Tribunal. “I am sorry, Nyx,” he said. “For what it is worth.”

“Very little,” said Nyx. She turned back to Tribunal. “In addition, I have left you two linked. You will always be in each other’s minds, and you will never, ever be able to let the other completely go.”

“So, what?” sneered Tribunal. “I get to look at him, sitting at God’s feet, playing the good little son?”

“Yes,” said Nyx. She smiled, and though her fangs were gone it was a more terrible smile than any she had given before. “And he will be able to see everything that is happening to you. Persephone?”

Persephone stepped up and took Tribunal’s arm. “Is it all right if I take a while? Verrine and I have a date, now that he’s a whole being again.”

Nyx grinned. “Take as much time as you want. I’ll be here.”

“Time doing what?” Tribunal demanded, panic in his voice. “What are you going to do to me?”

For an answer, Persephone opened a gate to Hell beneath their feet and let the two of them drop. Nyx smiled as she listened to Tribunal’s screams fade into the distance.

“That is cruel,” said Jesus, looking down into the pit. “No one should suffer for eternity.”

“God’s rules, not mine,” said Nyx. “Take it up with him.”

“I will,” said Jesus. He smiled at her, and there was a warmth to it that spread into the depths of Nyx’s soul. “Thank you for giving me the chance.”

“Don’t waste it,” said Nyx. She nodded at Caelum and Orion, and together the two Angels lifted Jesus from the ground and carried him up to the Gates of Heaven.

The mountains around them were silent, save for the sound of the wind.

“Well,” said Michael. “Now what?”

“Now… I think I’ll spend a century lying on a beach,” said Nyx. “Eating grapes and meat, and drinking wine.”

“And after that?”

Nyx shrugged. “God offered to let me be judge on Earth for him. To decide any debates that come up between Angels and Descended and to decide the fates of souls that are balanced on the edge.”

Michael smiled. “That sounds like it’s just the thing for you.”

“Maybe,” said Nyx. “God said I could decide for myself.”

Michael’s smile grew wider. “And that sounds like it is just the thing for you, too.” He spread his wings and rose into the air. “Goodbye, Nyx. Come visit us in Heaven.”

“I will,” said Nyx. “Goodbye, Michael.”

She watched him fly up and out of sight. When her eyes came down, she saw Epiphenia slowly spreading green throughout the devastated valley. “It will take time,” said Epiphenia, “but it will come back.”

“Good,” said Nyx.

“Now, where shall we go, Mother?”

“I don’t know,” said Nyx. “I’ll have to choose a place.” She smiled with joy because for the first time in her existence, all her choices were truly going to be her own. “Let me think on it.”

Thank you for reading Scorn of Angels!

I hope you enjoyed Scorn of Angels. It was my honor and pleasure to write for you. Of course I was only relaying the information that Nyx was providing, but I hope I did so with clarity and wonder. Thanks for joining me on this wild ride!

Who knows what the future holds in store for Nyx…

Also, if you’re so inclined, I’d love a review of Scorn of Angels. Without your support, and feedback my books would be lost under an avalanche of other books. While appreciated, there’s only so much praise one can take seriously from family and friends. If you have the time, please visit my author page on both Amazon.com and goodreads.com.

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Until next time,

John Patrick Kennedy

Copyright@2015 by John Patrick Kennedy

Cover design: Idrassi Soufiane with damonza.com

Formatting: damonza.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 John Patrick Kennedy

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0692405512

ISBN-10: 0692405518

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Thank you for reading Scorn of Angels!