Marilyn "Mattie" Brahen

Reforming Hell


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to gape at him, as if Bael had delivered a blow, stunning him. He forced himself to swallow, to draw air into his lungs, then found his voice: “You’ve trumped me! Do you know who was among those elders trusting our Creator to send them light-years away to help with some newly sentient species on some unknown planet? Do you know who was taken from me and from your mother with no knowledge as to where they’d gone or when they might return? You were barely a year old, but I later told you of it. But I demanded to all who were told, that they never again mention my loss. Perhaps you’ve forgotten in the passage of centuries exactly who we lost.”

      “Your parents and Mother’s parents. Your father Othorath. Your mother Ise. My paternal grandparents. And my mother’s mother, Venea. And her father Mercurius. My maternal grandparents. And Leianna’s paternal grandparents, Zoras and Heira. And you only became bitter, questioning the Creator’s ability to safeguard them, after we were exiled into Hell.”

      Lucifer nodded. “And when they do return, what will they find? Eliom changed, its people scattered, their own kin lost to them in Hell!”

      “Father, they willingly took on the task set for them by the Creator.”

      “And I didn’t.” Lucifer paced, agitated. “My and Affaeteres’s parents will find us banned from Eliom—or whatever damned name it goes by now, their son disgraced and their daughter de­stroyed by this dark realm.” And by me, he thought, and for love of me. “And what will you and your brother Ashtoreth, who are permitted where I may not trespass, tell them?”

      “Heaven has placed rules and restrictions on Ashtoreth and me, Father.”

      “Dammit, answer my question!”

      “I . . . I would ask that they be permitted to visit you,” Bael said, his voice raising, “if you would explore a potential alliance, a long-awaited chance to heal the ostracism we’ve suffered, no longer rebels, but leaders negotiating for our realm’s future!”

      “Ah! But could I visit Heaven?”

      Bael hesitated, staring at him. “Possibly. In time.”

      Lucifer sucked in air and expelled it, teeth gritted, lips twisting. “So you dangle a carrot before me, thinking me some old goat you can lead forward to your own ends!”

      “Father,” Bael murmured, but Lucifer could feel the anger smol­dering behind Bael’s quiet reproof, its sparks ready to erupt into bitter flames.

      They had fought before. Bael never shied from speaking out; he would never play the role of sycophant to anyone. But a sudden, overwhelming need, to see a burden, too long carried, possibly lightened, prompted Lucifer’s next words, not the stubbornness of his second-in-command. He took the carrot but would somehow control the direction of this Alliance business. “Tell Quatama that he and Leianna may visit my realm and, at my insistence, dine with me and my family. I will guarantee them safe passage.”

      Now Bael gaped.

      Lucifer shot him a mocking glance. “I would question Quatama myself about our elders’ return. That is why and only why you’ve won this small victory. And I make no promises beyond it.”

      “When, then?”

      “On the next Sabbath.” Lucifer turned from him, walking to the private door to the right of the dais, his voice loud in the high-vaulted room. “One A.M., Saturday, as time is measured in your lady’s mortal world. Thus I even accommodate her.” His guard opened the door as he approached. “To meet my adversary on the Sabbath suits my humor.”

      He went to his chambers, leaving Bael to carry the news to Heaven that the goat had snapped at the bait.

      CHAPTER 4

      A Dinner Party in Hell

      Bael had warned Leianna: “Don’t ever come down to Hell without me!”

      As it turned out, she had never set foot on the lower planes comprising his kingdom, despite being tempted to seek him out and explore the Netherworld. Despite her protests, Quatama had tweaked her soul’s aura with some power that blocked her ability to even venture near the darker planes. Only tonight had he lifted that psychic block.

      Now as a guest of Lucifer, she and Quatama were in Hell. Even so, Leianna still hadn’t even left the royal palace.

      She leaned over the low stone balustrade that circled one-third of its highest tier. Bael had led her outside onto this balcony. Above and directly behind them, a round, lighted dome crowned the northwest corner. It cast shadow and light onto the yellow, white, beige and brown flagstone floor that they stood upon. Leianna welcomed the dome’s soft illumination; it chased away the murk of the Netherworld night.

      Bael waved his hand toward the cityscape far below them: the buildings, shops, parks, and thoroughfares of the capital city of Tandour in Domain. “Here in Domain, our royal principality in Hell, and in the four other countries sharing this first level of Hell, the noble classes of Hell rule and play.”

      “And their servants?” Her tone challenged him. The panorama below stretched past the city limits to open country with the lights of smaller cottages, roads, a large, round stadium, and further on, darkened fields and a distant mountain, barely discernible against the black velvet sky.

      “There are other classes besides servants,” he answered with a half-smile. “We have industry, arts and sciences in this first level. Its citizens live here willingly. You could liken them to the freeborn citizens of ancient Rome. They, too, had emperors, some mad, some sane, but none like Lucifer, ruler of our Netherworld.”

      “You don’t rule?”

      He stared at her, as if deciphering the intent of her question, then returned his gaze to the panorama beyond the palace. “My brothers and I are royal princes, and we each share both responsibilities and power. Our word is considered law in most instances.”

      “Except for what?”

      Now his stare became probing.

      “Why do you stare at me like that?”

      “I’m trying to guess your reasons for asking these questions.”

      “Why don’t you just ask me?”

      His smile widened, flashing even teeth. He looked good, dressed all in black: pants, boots, long-sleeved shirt and wide cummerbund. Looking like some dashing pirate, his thick black hair framed his face, resting temptingly on his neck. He had removed the elegant black dinner jacket he wore, casually handing the jewel-encrusted garment to a hall guard before guiding Leianna out into the warm night and the tower balcony to show her Tandour. “Perhaps I enjoy your mysterious womanly ways.”

      “I want no mysteries between us.”

      “No secrets?”

      “This is no game, Bael. I need to know what goes on around here, and how I’ll fit in.” Despite distant starlight in the night sky, Hell was a world endlessly gray and dark, not even a moon to cast silver light upon this dimension, never a sun to rise into its sky and shed rays of golden warmth. But Lucifer had tamed Hell and used its resources, and today, electric lights chased away its darkness.

      Hell had a day, too, Bael told her, but its sky shone a dull, thick silver-gray, as if an encroaching storm was forever approaching. And Bael had joked there was sulfur with its repellent stench, just as the legends said, but only in the lower circles of Hell. No brimstone assaulted her nose here. “I wonder if I could ever fit in here.”

      “You’d be a royal princess.” He paused. “I hear both fear and determination in your words. You’ll be an unusual addition to my family, but you mustn’t fear them.”

      She turned away from the balustrade and from Bael. “Not even Lucifer?”

      “Especially not him.”

      “Why? Does he secretly admire me and want us to marry?”

      He hesitated until Leianna turned back to him, glancing sharply up at him, and then he reached