Capricorn's Midnight Clock: The Zodiac Book 10, page 8
We clashed. Our weapons locked at His crossguard. We stood face to face. Azure flames from both our weapons arced up to interconnect. Lacing and looping, writhing and swirling. A tempest. A cocoon containing the Underworld's old and its new.
Alone with Lucifer behind the blazing shell, I found my voice. "Thank you," I whispered, surprised by my steadiness.
Lucifer's smile was genuinely peaceful. "The honor was mine."
I held no regrets. One wouldn't want me to hold any.
"Let's finish this, Ezekial. I leave. In my stead, you rise. Rule well."
He shifted His weight, creating the smallest gap in His defense. An opening that lasted less than a heartbeat.
I took it.
Swinging Creed's dagger around, the blade found its mark. Blazing steel slid between ribs. Lucifer's eyes widened, but didn't shed a tear. His mouth opened.
"Finally," He breathed.
A separate swirl of Hellfire, this one pulsing azure and brilliant white, snaked out of the wound and spun above His head. Rotating, it coiled in on itself, bending a funnel toward me. I looked away, intent on keeping Lucifer's gaze until the end. Whatever cosmic force was vacating His body, it could wait until Lucifer's time had passed. He deserved that much.
Lucifer smiled as His eyes drifted closed. The funnel of azure and white fell like a drape. It blinked once before exploding into me with a force that made every joint in my body scream.
Yet, I didn't. I couldn't.
Because I was no more.
My eyes cracked open. The truth of the Underworld was revealed to me for the first time. Unadulterated authority. Connection. Intimate and deep.
The presence of every demon, from the Isle to the deepest tunnel of the Ninth Circle. Their fears, their hopes, their desperate need for someone to stand between them and the forces that would consume. Someone to care. To listen. To affirm and reaffirm.
Overwhelmed by their presence, I saw nothing, yet everything, all at once. Drowning in an ocean of consciousness, but the water here was on fire. Every nerve screamed as a power beyond comprehension contorted and reconnected, rewriting the nature of who I was.
I heard shuffling footsteps and those with syncopated gaits. I sat up, shaking my head to clear it.
Beside me, a small pile of gray ash was the only break in the sea of black brimstone.
Beside it, Creed, encased in a coat of Hellfire.
Something told me it would always be now.
I looked up as a voice cut through the haze in my head. Baphomet stood at the center of the gallery, arms akimbo. "Behold and bear witness." He swept his arms in, hands aimed on me. "Lucifer!"
The gallery erupted. Celebration. Dismay. Concern. Exaltation. Worry. Joy.
"Get your ass up," a rough voice said as even rougher hands grabbed my arms and yanked. Ralrek stood, smiling. "I'll help you this one time because that was an epic fight, but don't think this means I'm going to help you wipe your ass now."
"Zeke?" Bilba said, studying me. "Are you in there?"
Was I? Wasn't Ezekial Sunstone, former Exile and reluctant hero, gone. In his—was I supposed to capitalize all references to me now?—place was the new and only second ruler of Hell?
Others drifted closer, but kept their distance. Some familiar faces, mostly not. In them, I saw pride and excitement.
Saddened, I found, when Bilba didn't, or couldn't, put me in one of his customary hugs.
I glanced up at the gallery when I saw movement, swearing the glimpse I'd gotten was of a demon with cocoa-blond hair near an alcove. Right or wrong, they were gone so quickly I couldn't be sure.
The crowd around me buzzed, but their words were indecipherable. Bilba and Ralrek looked at me with concern. Anonymous demons split to allow Baphomet through. He moved swiftly for someone even half his age. He swept the tail of his robe aside and kneeled, head bowed.
"Lucifer, I wish to continue to serve."
I looked down. First at him, then at the pile of ash that had once been my mentor, my friend. Friends with Baphomet as well. Close friends, though you wouldn't know that by looking at this kneeling incubus.
I glanced around at the crowded demons. Friends and strangers, yet the same. Their expressions were hesitant. Their joy, painted with apprehension, greed, lust, envy, and desire.
I was alone in a sea of demons.
I might be what One and the All decreed, what Aries and Azazel had sacrificed for, what the previous Lucifer had worked toward, what the Underworld needed. But I didn't know what I actually was. And now I had no one to teach me.
I was Lucifer. The most powerful demon in all creation. And I was lost.
9
UNDERWORLD, LUCIFER'S TOWER
Lucifer's tower. My tower.
After writing to Cassie and making sure she knew I was alive, I settled in for the new phase of my existence. One I'd never have imagined a year ago. So surreal. All of it. Right down to being asked if and when I'd like to host a memorial ceremony for my predecessor.
Just like my conversation with the angelic beauty I missed more than anything. Even my old life. The sooner I moved on from that chat, the better. There was something different in Cassie's replies. A tepid tone.
We needed a face-to-face. Soon. If we even could.
I didn't want to think about that, so I focused on everything else I didn't understand.
All so strange. So surreal. Undeserved. A million thoughts and emotions coursed through me. Unfortunately for me and fortunately for those who depended on me now, I didn't have time to process them.
The table in Lucifer's—my—private chambers stretched down the length of the room. Its black marble was polished to a high sheen. I didn't remember it looking like that, and suspected someone else's hand accomplished this while I was fighting for my life against the room's previous owner.
Large enough to seat thirty demons, the table was beautiful but obnoxious. With this small group, the room felt cavernous. Strange. As if we were traipsing into someone else's home when they were out at the store.
Everyone shuffled quietly to a chair. Baphomet assigned seats, but I stopped him with a raised hand and a shake of my head. Thankfully, he didn't inquire further. Good thing. I didn't have the first clue what I wanted.
I stopped behind the tallest chair at the table. The one at the head. I rubbed my hands over the intricate designs carved deeply into the wood. On the table, maps and reports were scattered. All the work that awaited me. Yet only a portion. A small portion. Territorial disputes. Streams of refugees. Power vacuums.
I felt like a massive hand was pressed to the middle of my sternum. Pushing. Pushing. Pushing. Along the walls, the Hellfire sconces flickered with my agitation. Noted by everyone in the room.
Chairs scraped quietly as my friends and new advisors settled. Only Baphomet had deep experience of how these things worked. To a lesser degree, only me, Bilba, and Ralrek had an inkling of what we were doing, and that was being gracious.
"The Circles require immediate attention, my Lord," Baphomet said, his frail frame seeming to blend into the brimstone wall as he organized reports. So many reports. He'd taken the chair to my right. I didn't argue. I figured that was his place, and didn't have a problem with him occupying it.
But I did wince at his use of the title. "Don't call me that… Yet."
Baphomet looked horrified. "But… It's your title."
A simple response from an intelligent and complex demon.
"Ezekial," Dialphio said in her firm but friendly tone, "this will take adjustment on everyone's part. You're the first new Lucifer the Underworld has ever had. Be patient as everyone learns the new way of things. Don't require too much change." She held up both her hands. "Just my advice."
I didn't feel scolded, but the comments landed. As they should. I nodded to Baphomet. "Please forgive me."
Now he looked even more horrified. "There's—there's nothing to forgive, my Lord."
I didn't wince this time. Progress. Just the beginning of the changes I'd have to get used to. Every aspect of my life was different now.
I looked around the room. A table Lucifer had sat at for eons. How many millions of decisions had been made right here that affected all demons? Now, the table was occupied by the only demons in the Underworld I truly trusted. My friends. Demons who sat in chairs that were too formal to be comfortable. Waiting. Feeling out the proceedings.
Bilba glanced at me with concern any time he thought I wasn't looking. I could sense his worry. Ralrek's typical irreverent grimace had been replaced by something that bordered on respect. Dialphio sat stiffly. Sagittarius flicked glances at Bilba, as if he had the answers she sought. Marijon clutched her hands in front of her. Libra furiously scribbled notes even though no one was speaking. The one demon at the table I didn't fully trust, but who needed to be here, played with his fingernails. Capricorn would contribute in his own way soon. Baphomet treated me with the professional courtesy he'd shown the previous Lucifer. I'd seen it plenty of times to be comfortable with what I saw now.
I gripped the backrest of the chair. Squeezing. Lucifer had just been in this room hours before. He'd changed in these chambers just this morning. And in the time between that and me walking in as the ground's owner for the first time, a team of demons had removed every reminder of him except for the grand pieces of furniture. Almost as if he hadn't existed. The ruler of the realm from its inception, never more.
Gripping the backrest made it easier to hide my trembling. With the exception of Cassie, this room contained the only entities in the known world who cared about me beyond what I could do for them. Half had probably seen my shakes, but that didn't mean I needed to reaffirm their suspicions.
Almost as if reading my mind, Bilba said, "You're still you, Zeke. Just with more responsibility." He chuckled slightly.
Marijon smiled conservatively.
Ralrek grunted. "The Forgotten Ones are already calling you Liberator."
"That's grosser than calling me Lord," I said derisively.
"The tribes are asking if this," Dialphio said, pointing toward the ceiling with a finger and swirling it, "means they can set plans to return to their ancestral homes."
I was absolutely sure that my friends would support me until the end, whether it was bitter or glorious. They were treating me as if I were the same demon I was yesterday. But that wasn't true. Couldn't be true. I knew it. They knew it. It was in their posture. In the way they stole glances at me. How they adjusted when I looked in their direction. Even Ralrek. Distance. Shoved between me and each of them. Like a tree wedge. Was this simply the beginning of what Lucifer—the older one—had meant about the loneliness he'd suffered?
"I guess we'll have to figure all of that out," I said, and I saw the way their shoulders loosened or their formal posture slipped. "Right after I figure out who in the Heaven I actually am."
No laughter. No snickers. Only a half-hearted smile from Libra that fell from his face as soon as he realized no one else was smiling.
The sconces flared with brighter Hellfire. Baphomet's head snapped in my direction, but everyone else at the table looked uneasily at the burning azure flames.
Lucifer had made this all look so easy.
Baphomet cleared his throat diplomatically. "Perhaps we should discuss and prioritize the threats by immediacy?"
The inflection at the end of his statement didn't make the statement into a question. Still, I nodded and gestured for him to lead off. At least getting down to business would distract everyone from the fact that I was no longer Ezekial Sunstone, the Underworld's Segregate.
Baphomet gestured to the nearest map. "Beelzebub has moved forces into the eastern territories of the Fifth Circle. Seraph is claiming jurisdiction over the Sixth Circle's northern districts, but there seems to be something happening there. A resistance, if you will. Reports claim that both Founders have cited 'administrative necessity' due to 'improper governance.'"
"Bastards," Ralrek contributed eloquently.
Sagittarius hummed, her lips pinched.
"Administrative necessity?" Bilba asked, his words cutting. "They're grabbing land before anyone can stop them."
After checking with me, Baphomet nodded.
Marijon had unclamped her hands long enough to make a fist. "They know the only ones who'll stand in the way are the residents of each Circle. They also know those demons don't have the power to do a blessed thing."
Libra raised his quill. "May I ask a question?"
"Of course," Ralrek said at the exact moment I told Libra that was totally acceptable.
Libra gave Ralrek a warm smile, cleared his throat, his large Adam's apple bobbing, and nodded appreciatively at me. "This may be completely inappropriate, so I apologize in advance. But now that you're… Well, who you are, can't you just make them not-Founders anymore?"
"Great question. Baphomet?"
The rail-thin incubus nodded as if we were discussing whether tomato bisque was superior to chicken noodle soup. "With a simple decree, you could make it so."
"And would that change anything?"
His aged lips quivered, but he collected himself. "Your predecessor stripped them of their access to the Hellfire. I imagine you'll want to maintain that policy?"
"I do."
"He also restricted their travel to the Isle of Dread."
"We're keeping that as well. Forever. Can I do that to the other Circles?"
"The Isle is not part of the Underworld. The Circles are. You can't prevent their traveling to them, unfortunately." Before I could drop my head in defeat, he continued. "To decree a retraction of their status as Founders, you'll strip them of access to the Council tower and its guard. They'll be weaker for such a measure, but doing so would hardly handicap them. They'll have their personal forces, which are large, even if our reports are conservative."
"Still, doing it will hurt them," Dialphio said.
"It will. It just won't prevent the un-preventable."
"I'll have to go to war with each one of them," I said, feeling the weight of my comment fall on the room. "I'll need to hit them early and hard. As soon as I can."
"Of course, my Lord. May I also suggest that you consider the civilians caught between the armies?"
I had a response ready, just not to that question. My words died on my lips. I hadn't stopped to consider too many aspects of the situation—mostly because I was busy preparing for the battle of my life and surviving it. I had little energy left for what came out on the other side. The former ruler of the Underworld would have considered not only those aspects but also a thousand alternatives. I hoped I was doing a decent job of fooling these demons into thinking I knew what I was doing.
"That's why you needed to win the title through combat," Baphomet said as if he sensed my unease. "Power taken through violence alone creates tyrants. I believe that is what we are seeing, and will continue to see as this trio asserts themselves. Yet, power earned through struggle creates leaders."
Every face was turned in my direction. I gripped the back of the chair tighter. I looked down at the dark wood, allowing my gaze to follow the deep and narrow lines that created an image that might have been referencing the beginning of time.
Was the combat truly necessary? In all the time that life, by any definition, existed, the All couldn't come up with an alternative? I had a hard time believing that. Call me a skeptic, but it didn't make sense. Not beyond the realm of possibilities, couldn't the combat to claim the title of Lucifer simply be another way for One to put me exactly where I was needed? Regardless of the cost?
Doubt would do me less good than it had at every other crossroad. The last thing I could do is Lucifer was doubt. My predecessor had made that very clear. Especially not on my first day on the job.
The time would come to question cosmic law. First, I had to save millions of demons who were in harm's way. If I were successful and survived, then I could entertain thoughts of questioning One. Who knew? Maybe its grand plans didn't stop with my becoming the next Lucifer. Maybe it wanted more out of me. Maybe I was to replace it. How funny would that be?
To the backrest, I said, "I wanted Apopis dead. He needed to be stopped. He needed to pay. He did. I got what I wanted." I stopped and looked up at the circle of friends and advisers. "But hundreds of thousands are paying the price for me getting my way."
No one responded. Even Dialphio looked away.
The price of loneliness, my predecessor's warning rang in my ears.
After a lengthy silence, Bilba spoke. "None of us could have expected this aftermath. We were focused on stopping him, not replacing him. On helping those who couldn't help themselves."
It wasn't lost on me that while my friend was tenderly comforting me, he hadn't used my name.
Not to leave him hanging, Ralrek growled, "That's right."
"Millions of demons with no government. No protection." I looked toward the end of the table, where Marijon sat. She'd lived in existence that resembled what I'd just seen in my worries. Her entire upbringing had been one without beneficial intervention by those who were supposed to care for the powerless. Of everyone at this table, she'd understand my unspoken fears.
Marijon didn't look away. I appreciated that.
I stabbed a finger toward the other room, where small windows looked down on my grounds from hundreds of feet in the air. The sconces flared with Hellfire. Dialphio yipped. "I can feel them out there. Every demon. Their fears. Their confusion. Their heart ache. Their pain. It's like a constant hum in my head. My predecessor would have had plans for this. I have nothing."
"Lucifer before you, had an eternity to develop those," Dialphio said.
"You've had hours," Bilba added.
Before I could fight that battle, Sagittarius raised her hand. "If I may?"
"Please. If you have anything that'll make me feel like I have some sense of control over this, I'd appreciate it."
Sagittarius often spoke softly, but that didn't mean she didn't carry a quiet confidence that was reassuring. If she had something to say, I was all for hearing at.
