Angelus (6 page)

Kim guided his Kirin swiftly through Babylon, knowing that the night would pass all too quickly, that their time was running out. The snake's cold laughter echoed in his brain, timed to the burning image of Lilith's piercing eyes.

One wrong move with either demon, and Angela might never be healed.

Sophia followed close behind on a steed of her own, but the beast didn't have the same stealth as Kim's. Its heavy paws thumped against the stone and earth as if they were boulders striking flint. Kim's breaths erupted ragged and tired already. But neither he nor Sophia could slacken the pace until they were at least outside of the city, and right now its lights still shone like cold yellow stars on their backs.

He'd never become accustomed to riding these creatures. The Kirin resembled horses from Earth, but they were more like Hellish unicorns with a lethally sharp ribbed horn rising from the middle of their head, glowing eyes, and bodies that flickered with phosphorescent blue light.

Kim held the reins tight but winced at the pain in his
hands. This Kirin had bitten him in his haste to release it from its paddock beneath Angela's personal mansion.

Its flanks rippled with the light that signified distress. He and Sophia would be lucky to make it through the city unnoticed.

But so far, so good.

Many of the streets at this hour were deserted. Most demons knew enough not to wander on their own in the more lawless hours of the night. Kim and Sophia weaved through alleys and desolate wastes, they galloped over a bridge spanning the foaming Styx River, and then they were plunging into the lower levels of the city.

Kim glanced up at some guards patrolling the bridge. They noted his passage but didn't make a move to stop him. Their silhouettes reappeared and disappeared behind grim spikes of obsidian as they casually strolled the bridge's expanse. The fine mist above them responded to the increasingly chill air, tumbling in little crystals that glittered like diamond dust. Most of the guards weren't used to any unannounced visitors into the lower levels at this hour, and certainly wiser souls knew enough never to visit at all.

Every demon in Hell knew what to expect here and what to fear.

Sophia and Kim were nearing one of the most gruesome vestiges of Babylon's customs during Lucifel's reign.

Kim stared straight ahead and refused to look to either side as the fog began to close in on them. Whenever the mists parted, it was only to reveal mounds upon mounds of skeletons. Some of them were demon skeletons, mostly children Kim assumed were born less than perfect. Others were dead Kirin or other terrible creatures from Hell that—for him at least—would always remain nameless.

Setting his jaw, Kim tried as hard as he could not to concentrate on what surrounded him. The sight of the dead children, or “chicks” as the demons called them, tore at his insides.

The angels hadn't behaved any better in their past. From the heights of Heaven, deformed or less than desirable offspring had been thrown into Hell to fend for themselves or die. From the few survivors, the Jinn race had evolved. Kim was half-Jinn and he thought he looked normal enough.

That kind of exactness and cruelty had always torn at his soul. Angels and demons considered themselves superior to all other creatures. No, he'd never understand it.

Kim forced himself to keep riding. He and Sophia had almost arrived.

Finally, they entered a tunnel in the deepest reaches of the city.

The silence became absolute, except for the gentle paw strikes of the Kirin. Kim's Kirin champed nervously as they navigated the narrow strip of stone bordering the Styx, and he had to use a few well-timed caresses to goad the beast into moving forward. They were down to a slow trot. Beside them, the water churned.

Even the Kirin knew that to accidentally step into the Styx meant at the very least losing a limb to the acidic water.

Yet that wasn't the only reason he and Sophia had little to fear from spies.

Every living thing sensed the demon who lorded over this part of Babylon. The very smell of the place usually kept any creature from entering. Finally, the Kirin refused to go ahead any farther. Kim slid off his mount and Sophia copied him.

Together, they walked forward into the darkness, following the hieroglyphs marking the stone. Carved serpents and
stern warnings glowed along their path. Ignoring both, they continued to march down, and down, and down. Behind them, the Kirin reared but didn't bolt. They also must have thought their masters would change their minds.

Sophia walked stiffly, barely looking at Kim. The Kirin's frightened neighing echoed in the background.

“Are you certain he knows we're coming?” she said to Kim.

Kim's reply nearly drowned in the Styx now roaring past them. “Yes,” he said firmly.

Sophia paused for a moment, a haunted expression on her face. Maybe she was rethinking everything. Kim had to admit, he'd been astonished at how swiftly she'd agreed to this plan. He'd barely needed to coax her into her Kirin's saddle.

The Styx boiled only a step away from them. Sophia glanced at the water, her eyes glazed and unreadable.

One wrong move and they might fall in, helpless as the acidic water dissolved their bodies and bones to smoke. Kim wrinkled his nose. The vinegary air cut into his throat whenever he breathed. He had to focus to see the arching gateway that marked the end of the tunnel through the thick fog. He strode toward it, offering a guiding hand to Sophia.

She shook her head politely, but stayed close by his side. Somehow the silence between them acted as a chain linking them together.

Fear could be a powerful instigator of new friendships.

Then they at last exited through the gateway and emerged on the eastern border of Babylon, its sky illuminated by faint orange globes. Their eerie light illuminated the far eastern crags of the unthinkably immense cavern cradling the city. Kim and Sophia stood on a tall hill, and a path cut steeply down its sides, rising back up among the stone again to end at the mansion of a Great Demon.

Sophia stared at it, her mouth tightly pursed. But she was the first to take another step forward.

Kim looked at her in surprise. He steeled himself and followed, never taking his gaze off what awaited.

Python's private mansion sat alone. There were no other dwellings or signs of life near it, but perhaps there didn't need to be. The building had enough personality to make up for that tenfold. Whereas Lilith's and Angela's mansions were cut with smooth elegance, Python's reared up into Babylon's fog with reams of jagged pyramid-shaped spires. Obelisks covered in hieroglyphs and grim mosaics flanked its enormous onyx doors. Statues of Hounds and feathered serpents, carved with terrible precision, sat above eaves and windows.

The gothic city of Luz, ensconced on Earth as if in its own little corner of the universe, had held only a shadow of such dark beauty.

Soon, Kim and Sophia stood at the mansion's entrance, both of them focused on the glittering eyes of a feathered serpent statue near the door. Kim glanced at Sophia. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. There were no guards, or even beasts to warn of someone's arrival.

Kim swallowed nervously.

“This place is enormous,” Sophia whispered. It sounded like she had to search to find her words. “You've never been here before at all?” She turned to Kim for answers again.

He shook his head. “Never. Python hated Mastema. Even when I was a child, it was understood to keep me far away from Python and anything he happened to claim as his own.”

“So I suppose now Python's making up for the years lost between you two?”

Kim had nothing to say to that. He looked back up at the mansion rearing in front of them, wishing he could see
through it. “Trust me, we wouldn't be here if there was another way to help Angela. But there isn't.”

“I know,” Sophia said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened them again and her smooth brow furrowed. “I don't see signs of anyone inside.”

“You won't. Python keeps his entertainments as secret as possible. All the better for him to do what he likes without arousing suspicion. As if anyone trusts him any longer.” He ended with a laugh. “He judges his mother for her parties, but in the end he's no better than she is. They simply miss what they lost in Heaven.”

Sophia approached the doors. They were the opposite of the door in Luz that Python had used to lure Angela into his deadly maze months ago. That door had been covered in grotesque carvings of hellish creatures, and its knob had been shaped like a snake. These doors were plain stone and had no knobs or handles. Two twining snakes rested atop the lintel, but that was all.

“Sophia,” Kim whispered in warning.

But Sophia didn't budge. She examined the doors top to bottom.

Then she touched them.

The doors creaked open so lightly they could have been made of air. Gently, Kim pushed Sophia to the side and peered into the noiseless shadows within the mansion. The building appeared deserted, but they both knew better than that.

Kim beckoned, urging Sophia to follow him.

They stepped into the building carefully. The place truly appeared abandoned. Webs of fine dust littered the furniture that had been left behind. More dust filtered through the air and choked off Kim's breath. Most of the furniture pieces looked like faded relics, and their construction was too odd and opulent to be made by demons. Kim walked down the long hall with Sophia strolling cautiously behind; he was unable to keep from feeling that most of what he saw had been taken from Heaven as a remembrance of days past, long, long ago.

It felt like journeying through a cathedral. The hall seemed endless, the ceiling was far too vast and shadowy, and there were too many stairs and doors.

Finally, they paused in a circular room that connected to at least five other doorways.

“What is this nonsense?” Kim said bitterly. He wanted to scream. Did Python agree to this deal or not? Why would he waste time toying with them like this?

“Hold on,” Sophia said, stepping toward one of the doors. “Listen! Can you hear that?”

Kim sidled next to her.

Sophia nodded. “It sounds like . . . chanting. But I can't make out what they're saying.”

Kim's lips parted. His face blanched as he listened. He stepped back and stared at his feet, questioning what he'd thought he'd heard. Surely, he was wrong. But he found himself setting his hand against the door anyway and, despite his better judgment, pushing it open.

Sophia clasped his arm with an iron grip. Kim knew they both expected the same thing to greet them—an immense crowd of chanting demons.

The door swung wide with a powerful creak.

A long hallway met them. Its arched ceiling appeared as distant as the sky, and large crystal pendants hung along its length, casting a dull red light everywhere.

There was dead silence. No crowd. Kim and Sophia stepped onto the red velvet carpet that stretched along the floor toward a dais and a chair on the far side of the room. The onyx chair was smaller than Angela's, but somehow more menacing, carved with serpents and shadowy beasts with rubies for eyes. Upon it, the demon Python sat sideways with his legs slung over one armrest and his head tipped back lazily against the other. He appeared to be sleeping, and his pale face appeared almost peaceful. His thick black and violet hair hid his fearsome reptilian eyes.

Sophia seemed unable to let go of Kim's arm.

He turned and examined her carefully. She nodded at him.

Together, they strode side by side up to Python and his throne. Kim felt like he was dragging his feet through quicksand. Each step became harder than the last. Finally, they were at the foot of the stairs leading up to Python's chair.

The demon opened one scarred eye, his snakelike gaze focusing on Kim in particular. A smile spread slowly on Python's handsome face. He swung his feet to the floor and settled back in his seat again with his legs crossed. The jewels studding his dark coat glittered in the dim light. Even from this distance, Kim could see the scales on Python's eyelids and bare feet. A chill shuddered through him.

“Well, well, well,” Python said in his suave voice. “Look who kept his part of the bargain, after all. I was beginning to worry about you, half-breed. The hour is late. I almost fell asleep waiting.”

That was clearly a lie. Demons like Python never slept at all. They schemed.

“We're here, and that's all that matters,” Kim said. “So, now what? You said you can restore Angela's memories, but you didn't say how. Or what you want in return.”

At the sound of Kim's voice a strange hissing noise echoed throughout the hall. It sounded like a gigantic animal.

That sound was familiar. It echoed in Kim's nightmares constantly.

“What is that?” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

Python smirked. “Never you mind,” he said. He stood and sauntered down the stairs to meet them, appearing to glide more than walk. “What I want? Oh, I'm a demon of simple needs, Kim. Some might even call me transparent. No matter, I think we can both agree it's refreshing to wear one's heart on one's sleeve. How else would I have known to approach you?
Even a blind man could see how much you love the Archon. How much it hurts you to see Her suffer. It hurts me as well. It's hard to see the ruler of Hell so infuriatingly
weak
.”

Python snapped his fingers, producing a crystal decanter with a red liquid inside. He tipped back his head and took a long drink, licking some ruby droplets from his mouth with a forked tongue. Then with a sudden vicious glare he tossed the decanter at Kim's head.

Sophia screamed.

The decanter disappeared in a flash of bright purple light. It reappeared and dropped to the ground behind Kim, smashing into pieces.

“That was for making me wait,” Python said coolly. “You should be grateful. I changed my mind about embedding the shards in your forehead, boy. Now,” he said, examining his dark nails. He slowly turned his gaze back to Kim and Sophia. “Where, pray tell, is the Archon?”

Kim stared back at the demon unflinchingly, trying to regain his bravery as Python's eyes burned down to his soul. “There was no way to persuade Angela into leaving her mansion tonight. Besides, she would have never agreed to meet you. Your reputation—”

“Isn't a pleasant one?” Python said. “Perhaps I should have shown my face at the Councils since Lucifel escaped Hell. It sounds like the Archon has the wrong idea about me. I hope you haven't said anything incriminating?”

Kim held his tongue.
Wrong idea?
If Angela remembered even half of what Python had put her through, she would have rode a Kirin to his mansion to cage him herself.

Sophia took another deep breath. Her delicate hand played nervously with her jeweled pendant. A long silence fell, and once again the chilling hiss that met their ears ear
lier seemed to echo from everywhere at once. Sophia's eyes widened, but she still said nothing. Her gaze fixed on Python and remained riveted there, as if the moment she looked askance he would disappear in a cloud of violet smoke.

“Well, we don't need Angela Mathers's physical presence . . . yet,” Python said. He looked pointedly at Kim, and his words softened. “All we need is something important that links one of you to her.” He examined the pendant at Sophia's chest.

She stepped backward, gasping.

“Is that still such an important necklace to you, dear?” Python leaned in closer and whispered in her ear.

Sophia wrapped her hand around the pendant even more tightly.

“Because I know the Archon wears one just like it. How very quaint and sweet. Two friends who share a special bond decided to exchange matching necklaces. That will do nicely. In fact, it's just too perfect. Lend it to me. I promise you'll get your trinket back in one piece.” Python held out his hand. The scales on his fingers glistened.

Sophia hesitated.

Kim would never know what memories the pendant symbolized, but for Sophia to be unsure even now about parting with it certainly meant something special. He turned aside, feeling the sudden pain in his heart like a lance. He'd admit it—he was jealous.

“Love,” Python whispered.

Kim looked up at the demon again. “What?”

Python held Sophia's white sapphire pendant so that it swung on its chain, clasped between his fingers. “Everyone wants love, but so few attain it. I mean that unconditional love that crosses every boundary of space and time. Do you
know what I think?” Python smiled at Kim. “I think that was what drove Lucifel mad. She couldn't escape her feelings, and they devoured her soul. Now, she seeks to silence all feeling. Now, she wants to open Raziel's Book, to take the power within, to end the lives that mock her despair. It's such a grand, tragic thing—love. Sometimes, it's so grand, it can clip even the greatest angel's wings.”

The demon threw the necklace in the air and snatched it back with a hand.

“Now we can get to work.”

Python walked back up the stairs. He clapped his hands once and the throne he'd been seated upon vanished in a purplish mist, only to reappear as a long, flat, onyx altar. Ominous carvings of Hounds and serpents twisted around its pillar-shaped legs. Python slid a hand against its dark stone. “Now, listen carefully, boy. With this necklace, I can summon Angela Mathers here, body and soul. But that's the easy part. Returning someone's memories requires more of a connection. Memories are a part of someone's spirit. Losing them is like a death, no matter how small. And there are very few ways to bring the dead back to life . . . successfully.” Python finally lost his false smile. “Angela Mathers's life force must connect to another's forever.”

As Python allowed those words to sink in, Kim watched the demon pull another decanter, a bag of red sand, and an hourglass from the ether.

Python set the objects down on the altar and stretched, supporting himself with both hands spread against the stone.

“What's the catch?” Kim said.

Python cocked his head. “Catch?”

“I mean, what do you get out of this? Why even bother to help?”

“It really doesn't matter what I ultimately get out of it,” Python said coolly. “Because I'm all you have right now. Correct? Besides, I'm not a fool. Even I know the Book of Raziel needs to be opened. The Archon will have to remember how to do it quickly.”

Sophia gripped Kim's hand hard. She looked into his eyes, breathing fast. “Wait,” she whispered.

He turned to her, peering at her sharply. “What? Are you changing your mind?” he whispered back.

“I just need to talk to you first.”

“Can you give us a moment . . . alone?” Kim turned away and said to Python.

“You get a moment,” Python said. “You don't get it alone. Make your little chat quick.”

Kim and Sophia edged to the shadows of the long hall. “You know he's up to something,” she said.

“Of course Python's up to something. But does it really matter anymore?”

“Going behind Angela's back like this isn't right!”

“And would she agree to come here on her own?”

Sophia went silent. She sighed.

“Exactly.”

“Kim, he knows that you're the only person here who can connect your life force with Angela's. I can't—I . . .”

She didn't need to explain. Though she looked human, Sophia was not alive in the sense that Kim was alive. Perhaps she didn't even have an aura at all. Troy's past comments suggested as much.

Kim let out a shuddering sigh as he thought of his Jinn cousin.

He could feel his hands shaking as he pushed the hair from his eyes.

“I don't want you to do this, Kim,” Sophia said. She looked at him with eyes glazed by tears. “We'll find another way to help Angela.”

“No. We won't. I've made up my mind. If it's for her, it's worth whatever happens to me next.”

“Kim, wait—”

He had to walk away from Sophia, otherwise he just might rethink everything. Still, he could feel her anguish like it was wrapping around his chest, squeezing the breath out of him. “I'll volunteer,” Kim said, returning before the altar to Python. He heard his voice crack painfully.

Python didn't laugh, but the sound hid within the shadows of his words. “Of course you will.”

Python dangled the necklace above the altar.

Kim and Sophia stood by his side, wordless. Sophia especially looked distraught. Her face was ghastly and pale. Kim swallowed hard, trying to concentrate as Python had requested. Then, a blazing purple light flashed all around them before condensing back to a single point below the necklace's swinging pendant. Kim almost forgot to breathe as Angela's shadow appeared, and slowly her sleeping form materialized from a heavy purplish mist.

In seconds she lay on the altar, her entire body limp, and her mouth slack.

She looked dead, but her chest still rose and fell with her breaths. Kim breathed with her again, his heart thrumming. She was so beautiful. The pendant that matched Sophia's glittered on the pale skin below her neck. Even with Angela's arms and legs blotched where her cruel-looking burn scars were exposed, she'd never seemed lovelier. The minuscule jewels on her black satin gown shimmered like stars.

Her practiced regality as the Archon seemed like a dream as Kim stared at her face.

For once, it seemed she wasn't having one of her terrible and confusing visions.

It felt like a sin to break that peace. Python was the first to have the courage to do so. Slowly, he began to circle Angela's body, tracing along its contours with his fingers, muttering softly. A strange, admiring expression lit up his face.

Kim set his jaw.

He tried to push Python's hand aside, knowing it was a stupid thing to do, but unable to hold back.

The demon offered a nasty glare. “Do the smart thing and stay out of my way,” Python whispered. “I don't have to do a thing for her, you know.”

Sophia said nothing. She only stared down at Angela with tearful eyes. Once, she looked up at Kim again and searched his face as if hoping against hope that he might change his mind, and a miracle would happen, and Angela would awaken on her own with her memories fully restored. And because they both knew the truth, she looked away just as quickly and stroked Angela's cheek.

All too swiftly, Python was done with his ritual. He straightened and tousled his mop of hair. “There. She'll remain asleep as long as the ritual lasts, and possibly for another night. But her spirit is unusually resistant to any kind of mental barrier being broken; the typical spells aren't going to work.” He looked askance at Sophia. “It seems the time has come for you to be helpful again. I need the Angelus.”