Capricorn's Midnight Clock: The Zodiac Book 10, page 25
With the dark matter settled, I turned to Bilba and held up my hand. "Don't argue. This time, you're doing something for yourself. Stay back here and be with your mother. I mean it. Consider it an order or whatever."
Bilba's face scrunched as he tried to hold back his frown and arguments. But I knew him almost as well as I knew myself. He was torn, but he was called to ensure his mother was okay. "Thank you."
I moved in and gave him a hug. "I'm launching from the Isle. Dialphio's been running the community. She'll help me and Ralrek round everyone up. You stay here. Take care of her."
He held tight as I tried to pull away. "I will. As long as you take care of yourself. Be careful, Zeke."
"No one dies today. Well, except for Beelzebub and his minions."
Disturbingly, Creed didn't respond one way or the other.
27
UNDERWORLD, ISLE OF DREAD
The Isle's longhouse had never felt smaller, and it'd had plenty of opportunities. Essentially, ever since the three of us were exiled to these shores. We seemed to bring that sort of luck with us. Demons packed the space, shoulder to shoulder. It'd been packed before. Full enough for the room's temperature to rise by ten degrees. While demons waited, they conversed. A low rumble created by hundreds of simultaneous whispers. I didn't need to ask to know if anyone was feeling tense. A miracle created at Dialphio. No one in the Underworld could get demons to move like Dialphio. The attendance in the longhouse within twenty minutes of my arrival was proof.
As I stood before the assembled crowd, I could see demons pushing closer, straining to catch every word. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to say. Bilba would have been an asset.
No. Didn't need to think about him. That wasn't right. He was doing what he needed to do. For himself. For a change.
Ralrek flanked my right side. His missing tooth was visible as he spoke quietly to Valyria Tatuth, the First Circle's Forgotten One leader. His occasional snarl made it more obvious. Valyria's striking figure commanded respect even in whispered conversation. Silver streaks weaving through her thick black braid caught the firelight. Those calculating amber eyes swept the crowd with the practiced assessment of someone who'd led thousands. I appreciated her presence. Between the pair, there was an air of calm determination I didn't feel from many others. Then again, the Forgotten Ones had a justified steeliness about them that other demons lacked.
Dialphio stood resolute in the face of anxious curiosity. Her presence had an anchoring effect. Something I desperately needed as I faced the demons I'd shared this island with until recently. Once a neighbor, now a ruler. One needing help from those I trusted.
I had my own anxieties, mostly about Capricorn and whether he was sticking to the schedule we'd set before splitting. Him to the Overworld, Bilba to his mother, and me to the Isle.
Every time I thought about the older incubus preparing to die for redemption, I felt the clock ticking away precious minutes. Still, I was the new Lucifer. Surrounded by strangers in my tower. A stranger to them. Without knowing yet who in the tower I could trust, I couldn't know if any of my servants, advisors, or soldiers were working with Beelzebub. Part of his trap. For all I knew, Seraph was using the Founder as the big dufus he was. A tool for her goals, in more ways than one. Letting him think he was about to get one over on the "impling Lucifer" and place the crown on his head, all while she waited in the shadows. Kill Beelzebub right after he killed me. Gain a crown without getting your hands dirty? Totally Seraph's style.
"How quickly can you mobilize?" I asked Ralrek, loud enough for the front rows to hear but trying to keep the details from spreading too far.
"Fifteen minutes," Ralrek said without hesitation. "We're almost ready. Vexis has been organizing supply runs, and Kimroth's been assigning demons to specific combat units. In a perfect world, this'd already have been done, but we're not there yet."
When Ralrek said "we," he meant the Forgotten Ones. Not that he was segregating himself or the other Forgotten Ones from the Isle's other residents. Ralrek would fight alongside and for every single demon and harpy on this island. But I doubted he'd ever identify as anything but one of his kind, now that he'd found his home.
As if summoned, Vexis Hale materialized from the crowd. Her marble-white skin made her stand out from the Exiles almost as much as her calm demeanor did. The willowy succubus moved with a grace that made her forty-thousand years seem like twenty.
"Weapons are distributed," she reported, her voice carrying the efficiency of someone who'd learned to organize quickly. "Kimroth's already briefing the warriors."
"Exiles?" I asked Dialphio.
Her expression tightened, shrinking as it did, like a drink being sucked up into a straw. "Resources are becoming scarce. We've got more demons arriving every day. We're stretched thin in every way."
We knew the day was coming when the Isle wasn't a viable option for a growing population. The day would come when we'd simply run out of food, fresh water, and buildable land. Seemed that day was arriving sooner rather than later. And at the worst time. Of course, because that's how these things worked.
Her comment brought up a Bilba-sized chunk of guilt. Back in the tower, I lived by the very definition of gluttony. Piles of every resource imaginable. So much food, me and my closest friends wouldn't be able to polish it off before we grew old. Land that stretched so far I'd never step foot to its edges even if I went for a daily hike for the rest of my supernatural life. All while the Exiles stretched what they had as far as they could.
Thankfully, this was still a private conversation happening under the hum of nervous Exiles.
"Maybe everyone should move to the Tower," I said. "I can make the grounds secure—"
"No." Dialphio's voice was firm. She shook her head so fiercely that her auburn bob whipped from side to side. "Don't put that on your conscience, Ezekial. We've got it handled. Believe it or not, you can't save everyone. So don't you dare fret about us. We can take care of ourselves. The Exiles have been through two Lucifers now. We aren't giving up on ourselves. After we save those mortal refugees, we can talk about your ideas. Okay?"
The only demon in the Underworld who could get away with chastising a Lucifer had done just that.
"You know I'm only doing this because I absolutely adore you, right?"
Dialphio gave my arm a two-touch pat. "I know."
Marijon pushed her way through the crowd. Beads of sweat dotted her smooth, dark skin. "Everyone's together. As soon as you dispatch us, we can get them assembled."
"Thank you." To the crowd, I raised my voice. "Demons of the Isle, we're in a time of need. I've lived with you, played with you, and fought with you. Now, I need you, the Underworld needs you, more than ever."
The assembly fell silent as soon as I started speaking. They didn't interrupt me once as I detailed the events in the Overworld. I tried to ignore their reactions as I highlighted the multiple challenges facing us, and the threats not only to the island, but to the entire demonic realm if Beelzebub wasn't stopped. For the most part, the reaction was exactly what I'd hoped. Doubters dotted the crowd. That was a given when asking what I was asking of these demons.
But in the end, my called action rippled through them. Demons moved. Some with speed and enthusiasm, some with reluctance, and a few not at all. I watched Cantrell and Sethel organize groups, helping Marijon. Pockets of the island's leaders assisted me with calm but firm and urgent direction. Roy and an Anayese checked and distributed weapons to those who required them.
"Fighting a Founder?" The harsh comment came from a tiny voice perched in the rafters. A harpy near the center of the longhouse spread her wings in agitation, the gesture making those around her step back. "Suicide. You bring war. Not throwaway lives for mortals. Mortals hate demons. Stupid mortals."
In a way, the harpy community had been a bane to my existence since arriving on the island, but only in the comedic sense. They'd never really been a threat. After Capricorn and I had our run-in with them, things had gone quiet, yet peaceful. The reason the harpies were at this meeting was that they were being accepted into the island's demonic population more each day. As part of the community, they had a right to dissent. The problem was dissent also created the potential for momentum.
Murmurs of agreement rose among the scattered demons throughout the longhouse. It was an easy rationale to understand. Fighting a Founder was dangerous. Fighting them in the Overworld was suicidal. And doing it to save mortals wasn't the most intelligent of directions I could have taken this community.
But I didn't have time to convince them that this was the direction we needed to go. The clock was ticking, literally and metaphorically.
"No one's being forced," I said, letting my voice carry. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stopped moving toward the doors. "But Beelzebub is targeting innocent mortals to draw me out. All to respond to his threats. To his promise of violence. I'd do it for them, and I'd do it for you. Don't get me wrong. This doesn't end here. Beelzebub is building an army of immortals and mortals. If we stand on the sidelines and watch, we'll also be watching as his army rolls over the entire Underworld. It's our time to stop him. Now. Before he has the power to do whatever he wants. To anyone, anywhere. Mortal and immortal. To every Circle in the Underworld. And to your families. To the island. To you."
Perkin Jenks pushed forward from the crowd. Sandy hair cut the Hellfire light as he moved. Though he was younger than me, his eyes held the intelligence of someone far older. I didn't know his entire story, and one day hoped I'd have a chance to. But for now, I imagined he'd seen things not unlike what I'd experienced that made me age millennia beyond my chronological time. The scale-like markings covering the left side of his face and neck looked raw.
"What's the tactical situation?" he asked. "His numbers. The lay of the land. Any information you can give us that'll make us feel more comfortable."
"Beelzebub has hundreds of demons at the site that we know of. The last time he did this, he also had hidden reinforcements. I expect the same. It's not something I can take on my own. Even if everyone on the island fought alongside me and the contingent of guards I trust, we'll still be outnumbered. The only advantage we have is here," I said, lifting Creed high so everyone could see, and then placed my hand over my heart, "and here."
I have no idea how convincing I was. Those already determined to help had been making their way toward the exit to gather last-minute supplies, form up, and be supplied with any makeshift weapons we had available. The stragglers left behind were the ones I needed to convince, and they weren't giving me much in the way of commitment.
The crowd thinned with little response. For all I knew, each of them would turn back to their shelters and homes the second they got outside of the longhouse. I tried to focus on those whose faces were set in grim determination. They encouraged me that all hadn't been lost by coming here. The harpy remained perched where she'd been watching the proceedings. In her expression, I saw a hint of skepticism. The open defiance had been erased. She wouldn't be much help, but at least she wasn't hurting our efforts.
I made my way toward the exit and didn't get fifteen feet before my path was cut off.
Kanthor Sunstone stood near the longhouse is main entrance. I knew that silhouette like I knew every inch of my halberd. I'd seen him around the island from time to time, but he usually made himself scarce any time I was around. But he wasn't hustling to pretend something else needed his attention. This time he looked like he wanted to see me. And I despised him for that. His presence hit me like a punch. The ruler of the Underworld, and yet the mere sight of my father took me back to feeling like an insecure imp.
He approached slowly as the crowd thinned around us, wearing an unreadable expression. I didn't see my mother. But then again, whenever Kanthor was around, my focus was fully on him. He stopped a few feet short, mumbling. "Ezekial."
I couldn't hide my sneer. "Funny. You've always been such a rule follower, but you seem to have forgotten my title."
I know. I know. Petty. Sue me. I was dealing with a lot and 'abandonment by father' was at the end of the list.
"Lucifer," he replied, though it was obvious it was a struggle.
For years, Kanthor hadn't had time for me. He wanted that now that I was the ruler of the realm? The joke was on him. Tables turned and all that.
I opened my eye, looking beyond what was, drilling into him with my perception. I never used this ability on someone I loved before — not that I loved Kanthor anymore. Too hard to feel any emotions beyond hatred for this incubus.
As his aura swirled in the air, my chest tightened with unexpected pity.
Kanthor Sunstone was a man who needed structure to feel safe. That wasn't a surprise. But the depth of his need was. Rigid hierarchies, clear rules, absolute authority. The things that made the world go round. Without them, this incubus was lost and frightened. Uncertainty had that effect on him. Rigidity provided security. Normality.
I'd brought a challenging attitude to the fold when Lucifer's Council involved me in their mission to find Aries. And it only snowballed from that seminal moment. My father fell further away from me with each rebellious step I took toward my destiny.
Kanthor Sunstone was adrift. Untethered from a safe reality.
My eye revealed something else and that moment. Something I'd refused to recognize for a very, very long time.
Kanthor Sunstone wasn't a wicked demon. Not at his core. He wasn't even a week one. My father was simply imperfect. Someone who'd built his identity around systems that made him comfortable. Systems that were crumbling at the feet of his own offspring. A demon without the skills or knowledge to comprehend how he could rebuild his world.
I closed my eye. My focus on the world around me came back into clarity. The anger I'd been carrying for so long was gone. I could feel the void. Almost like a scab reaching the final stages of healing.
"The Isle has been good to you," I said, gesturing around the longhouse, a symbol of his community. No longer mine. "These are good demons."
After a moment of confused twitching, Kanthor replied. "They are, and it is. Dialphio is quite the leader."
"Yes, she is."
We stood in silence for a moment. Two incubi who shared blood and a long history. Divergent paths to be walked. I waited, wondering if I'd feel the familiar ache of wanting his pride, acceptance, and his love. I was, after all, Lucifer. But it never came.
Somewhere along the way, my friendships and relationships with angels had instilled something in me so that a father's void would never reappear. Their trust, their vulnerability and willingness to share, their unconditional caring. I was richer because of the demons and angels I had in my life. The absence of a father wouldn't detract from that. I had a family that chose me rather than one bound by obligation.
"Take care of yourself," I said finally.
Kanthor stepped aside, dipping his head.
I walked past him without another glance or word, out the door and into the open air. It smelled fresher than when I'd entered the longhouse. The salty scent of the Acheron Ocean reached this far inland, carried on the relief of a strong breeze. The day was warm, but cooling. To my right, Ralrek was giving final instructions to the Forgotten Ones.
His expression was dark. "Everyone's ready. Valyria's got her group organized. Kimroth's loaded for bear. Perkin's doing… something with calculations about 'attack vectors.' Whatever that means."
I nodded, feeling the weight of their trust settle on my shoulders. Capricorn was sacrificing himself while we made our final preparations. Thousands of mortal refugees were unknowingly counting on us to save them from a fate they couldn't comprehend. We were preparing to save the Underworld from a growing assault by Beelzebub's menace.
I'd done everything I could to stop Beelzebub's assault. Hopefully, Capricorn had come through. Hopefully, he was still there to be saved.
I walked to the front of the small army, numbering over three hundred. Without freeing Creed from its frog, I opened a Gateway with a flash of my fingers.
Behind me, Ralrek whistled. "Bigger than one of mine."
Instead of giving him an adolescent response, I simply said, "Let's go save lives."
And then I stepped into the Gateway and straight into a war.
28
OVERWORLD, SYRIA
I couldn't see Capricorn. I felt more confident about what we were about to do. Having an army at my back did that. Still, I couldn't ignore my concern over Capricorn.
The rocky outcrop overlooking the Syrian refugee camp gave us a perfect view of the nightmare below—if you could call anything I saw "perfect." Thousands of mortal families huddled together in the open while Beelzebub's forces moved through them like predators selecting prey. The Overworld's setting sun cast long shadows that stretched the demons' forms into something even more monstrous. The sands burned orange in the fading light. The smell of fear was covered by our collective scent of sweat.
I crouched at the ridge's edge. Hot sand and pebbles crunched under my shoes. How I wished I had my combat boots from my time in the army. Sneakers weren't the best footwear when heading into a battle.
The scraping and crunching was echoed by my army of over three hundred, who stood in careful silence behind me. The tension was so thick I could taste it. Metallic and sharp. Blood on the warm wind.
Demons fidgeted. Some rocked back and forth where they stood. Others constantly checked their weapons, tools they'd never used outside of sparring. Heavens, too many had never seen combat. Others stared at the enemy below with the wide-eyed expression of someone realizing they might die in the next hour.
I might be the first to be vanquished by the force in the valley. The major reason I took a few minutes longer to get us stationed here. A few minutes to send important words to Cassie. I hadn't heard from her yet, and that weight compressed my mind almost as much as the harm being committed against the mortals we were here to save.
