The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (62 page)

“Let’s go to the Shadow Company camp,” Garnet said. “They’ll
make sure we’re not interrupted, and whatever this is, I have the feeling I’m
going to want Marc’s input.”

“Very well,” Birch replied, now showing an impatience Danner
had never seen in his uncle. His voice didn’t even seem the same. “Summon your father
and the other paladins of his
jintaal
, as well.”

A sudden suspicion dawned on Danner.

“Are you still my uncle?” he asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Birch replied, and now his voice
was totally alien. “For the moment, I’m something much more than just your
uncle, but he has knowledge to impart, and our time is limited. So don’t
dawdle, mortal.”

- 2 -

When they were all assembled in the denarae camp, Birch
immediately took control of the meeting. Present were Trebor and the paladin
officers of Shadow Company, plus James, Garet, Nuse, and Perklet, the surviving
members of the
jintaal
that had accompanied Birch to hunt The Three.
Birch had also asked that Moreen and Hoil be present, and they sat between the
two sets of paladins. Birch’s brother and Moreen had been helping to keep the
soldiers fed and their wounds cared for.

The denarae had secured the surrounding block of buildings
in every direction, and they were actively probing the night with their kything
talents to ensure no one came within earshot of the meeting. Night was falling,
casting long shadows held at bay only by several campfires and torches
scattered about the area.
Sin
shone alone in the sky,
its first night on a waning decline following the previous evening’s full Ice
Moon. San was just beginning to wax from a new moon and was nowhere in sight.

“First off, I will tell you I am still the same man whom you
have all come to know, but rather not
only
myself,” Birch said, thankfully
in his own voice. “The apparition you saw earlier, Trebor and Danner, was a
manifestation of the demon Kaelus, who has been living inside of me since
before I returned from Hell. Over the past months, I’ve felt his presence
within me intensifying, I just didn’t know what was happening to me. My
strength, my awareness and perceptions, and I’m certain I can understand the
immortal tongue… all things you have no doubt experienced yourself in one form
or another, Danner, with your mixed heritage of mortal and immortal blood.”

Birch paused and took a deep breath, sorting his thoughts.

“Right now, Kaelus’s awareness is merged with mine, so I
must apologize for any strange behavior you may see. His thoughts and nature
are alien to me, and it’s more confusing than you could ever know to keep
things straight,” Birch said. “That explosion of temper was more from him than
me, but be assured, he means no harm to any of us, least of all me, upon whom
he has depended for his very survival and his liberation.” Birch breathed
deeply and closed his eyes for a moment, then he looked at them and resumed
speaking.

“Like me, Kaelus was a prisoner in Hell, but he has been
incarcerated there since the days following the Great Schism and the dawn of
Lokka’s
creation. The immortals originally had only a
discarnate existence, some with greater power and awareness than others. Slowly
the immortals took physical form based on their natures, and Kaelus had the
misfortune of being created similar to those who would call themselves demons.
The two coexisted peacefully for an immeasurable time, but when the Great
Schism began, Kaelus was drawn in with the other demons. We might call them his
kin, but such words have little meaning in their existence. Like his fellows,
he created and altered his body to its current demon-like appearance, but
unlike them, he did not turn his heart toward evil and Satan.

“I say heart, but even that is insufficient,” Birch said,
frowning. “In the beginning, all of existence consisted of that which was from
God and that which was from His opposite. Even born of the stuff of Satan, it
was Kaelus’s entire nature, what the immortals call their
āyus
,
[29]
which rejected the evilness of his
companions. But being so surrounded, he hesitated to confront his fellows and
openly reject their ways. Another who was like him, Abdiel, did speak up and
was immediately destroyed by those who had once been his companions. Despite
his power, Kaelus held his peace, waiting for a time to flee and rejoin those
who had aligned themselves under God.

 “When Heaven and Hell were created as separate
divisions of the original whole of the immortal plane, he tried at the last
moment to break free and cross back to Heaven, but it was too late, and then
his true nature was revealed. He was imprisoned by the King of Hell and held
there for millennia.”

They stared at Birch-Kaelus in amazement, stunned at what
they were hearing. That Kaelus was a demon was admitted. But a
good
demon? The concept ran against everything they thought natural in the world.

If a demon can be
good, can an angel be evil?
Danner thought to himself.

“I’m still having trouble remembering everything,” Birch
said, frowning in frustration. “Some of this is so clear, but for the rest it’s
like trying to remember the placement of grains of sand on a beach. I know now
that Kaelus was freed by someone, and somehow he was placed inside of me, and
that this whole thing was somehow a condition and piece of my own escape. But I
can’t remember…”

“Birch,” James said softly. “I think perhaps I can help you.
Give me your deck of
Dividha
cards.”

 “My cards? Why?” Birch asked.

“Just do it.”

Birch retrieved his deck of cards from the bottom of a sack
of clothes and bedding Moreen had brought for him. He handed the deck to James,
who quickly shuffled through until he’d removed several cards.

“Who is this?” James asked, flipping over one card. It was
one of the three sixes of the Hell suite; one of The Three. James’s thumb was
conveniently covering up the name under the picture, but Danner already knew
the answer before Birch replied, even as he knew the card would be physically
identical to the other two like it. The picture was a perfect replica of the
true form of The Three, which Danner had seen twice before at the two deaths
he’d witnessed. The smooth, bark-like skin was rendered in excruciatingly
accurate detail, and having faced two of the demons already, Danner was
unnerved by the thought that the tiny drawing might suddenly leap off the card
and attack him.

“That is Ran,” Birch said. James moved his thumb and
revealed he was correct.

“And this?” James asked, flipping over the two of Hell: The
Devil’s Deuce.

“That’s Kaelus,” Birch said in a whisper. The picture was a
life-like representation of what the spectral demon Danner had seen would
undoubtedly look like if it was given flesh. The face, the bull’s horns, the
broken and blackened shackles on his wrists, the fiery eyes… all were identical
to the figure Danner had seen earlier that day issuing from his uncle’s mouth.

And now Danner knew where he’d seen the demon before. Months
ago, he’d played
Dividha
with his uncle while they were on the road to
Demar after they’d first fled from the Men for Mankind Coalition in Marash.
What seemed like a lifetime ago, Birch had been dealt the Devil’s Deuce on
their final hand of the game.

“What is this?” Garet asked.

“Just a moment,” James replied. “Now I’d be willing to bet
that each and every one of these cards looks
exactly
like the immortal
demon, or angel for that matter, which it’s supposed to represent. The King of
Hell no doubt looks exactly like he does on this card,” James said, flipping
the card over and causing Birch to flinch slightly, “except that his face is
obscured. And despite the lack of distinction, Birch was able to correctly
identify which of The Three I’d shown him. There’s something special about this
deck, which is unlike any other I’ve seen. No deck represents Kaelus thus
bound,” he said, pointing to the shackles on the demon image’s wrists.

“So what does this mean?” Hoil asked. “What’s this got to do
with my brother?”

“This,” James said, and turned the last card he’d removed
from the deck. He didn’t flip it in his hand, but instead flung it to the
ground face-up as though loathe to touch it. The card spun and drifted lazily
until it innocuously settled face-up and lay perfectly flat on the ground.
Birch recoiled from the card as though struck, then settled down but refused to
look at the card. Moreen immediately went to his side and spoke to him in a low
voice. The rest of them peered closely until they read the name emblazoned
beneath the terribly vivid picture.

“Satan!” Danner exclaimed.

They stared at the card in an awful silence, confused and
afraid of what James could possibly mean.

“I don’t understand,” Moreen said at last.

“Birch does now,” James said. “Don’t you, Birch? Before,
when we were sailing toward Den-Furral and Wein asked you whether or not you
saw the face of your ‘mysterious benefactor,’ whoever it was who set you free and
healed you, you said you didn’t remember who it was. You said you made a deal,
which you knew was not unconscionable but you still didn’t know the details.
And then I looked in your eyes. You remember?”

“I remember,” Birch whispered.

“I saw something there,” James said, and he shuddered at the
memory. “I looked into your eyes and saw not just the Hellish torments we
usually see when we look in, but I saw a face there, because you were thinking
of it and remembering it on an inner level of thought, or perhaps Kaelus was
remembering it, and it was through his eyes I saw. Regardless, I saw a face
there, and I knew it was the face of whoever had rescued you. And it scared me.

“You can only imagine my shock and terror when I borrowed
your deck of cards to play a game with Vander, and I was dealt that card and
recognized the image thereon. I also discovered that you can’t remember what
the face looks like the instant after you take your eyes from the card, just
like I couldn’t remember what I’d seen in your eyes a moment after it
happened.”

Danner looked away from the card and found this was true.
The image from the card was only a vague impression in his mind with no
significant details. He could no more describe the picture to someone else than
he could tell that same person the weight of the world. He looked at the card
again and shuddered at the vivid detail it contained, then looked away and
couldn’t even remember what colors were on the card.

“But when I saw the card, I knew,” James said, continuing.
“I remembered, and I put a name to the face. It was Satan, Birch. It was Satan
who helped you, and Satan with whom you made a deal to escape from Hell.”

And now Birch did remember, at least in part. He remembered
a dream
-
a memory
-
he’d had months ago, a dream that had left
him trembling in a cold sweat and feeling haunted by a lingering sensation of
horror. He remembered now with terrifying detail.

- 3 -

“Is it agreed?” the
Voice asked.

He probed the darkness
only he could see. For the third time in a month, they had cut his eyes with
their demonic claws, blood seeping from each socket after an agonizing descent
into darkness. Twice before he had stubbornly prayed and received healing for
his destroyed eyes, and twice again they had blinded him.

He took comfort in the
darkness for a time until he summoned the strength to heal himself again. That
comfort had disappeared with the sudden presence of the Voice and the promises
it made him. The Voice was somehow familiar, and he had the wild idea they
might have spoken before, if he could just place it…

“You promise to free
me?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You will heal me?”

“Completely.”

“You will help me to
escape?”

“No one will know of
your disappearance until it is too late to stop you, and I will look after you
every step of the way,” the Voice replied. “The path out will still be arduous
and long, but I promise you will survive. You’re of no use to me dead.” The
words were liquid and velvety in his ears, with promises hidden between
promises and words within words. His head spun, but he fought to maintain an
even mind amidst the smooth words.

“Why are you helping
me? Who are you?”

“There is a balance to
be maintained, mortal, and you will help bring about that balance,” the Voice
replied after a moment’s pause. “You will serve me. You are being given a
special trust, which you will not remember or understand until it is time. When
that time comes, when life itself lies in the balance and you must choose, then
perhaps you will understand.”

The Voice stopped, and
he wondered for a moment if he was alone. He twisted awkwardly on the hard
surface on which he lay, suddenly terrified of being alone. He nearly sighed in
relief when the Voice continued.

“As for who I am, you
will know in due time. Now, will you do as I have asked? Do we have a deal?”

Though still blind,
his eyes closed in concentration as he fought to hold on to the words being
spoken to him, to hold their meaning and stop the spinning they created in his
head. Whatever else was true here, this was a denizen of Hell he was speaking
with.

“You know I will not
break my oaths,” he said.

“You cannot,” the
Voice corrected him.

“I will not go against
God,” he continued, ignoring the interruption lest it break his concentration.
“I will not violate my conscience. I will not serve you at another’s expense.”

“Mortal, if you were
willing to do any of these things, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,”
the Voice replied.