by Rex Jameson
Chapter 11
The Lesser of Three Evils
Lucifer and Sariel sat in a pocket vortex situated between Chaos, Order, and the Goblin Realm. The violent interaction of the universes created a time phenomenon here that Lucifer intended to take advantage of for as long as necessary.
“Play it again.”
“Again?” Sariel complained. “We’ve been watching these orbs for months. Listen, I picked up some others. Look, how about this one? Sera Does Darshiva. This is the one where she is getting mauled by like five demons. Can you believe a ten-winger went into porn?”
Lucifer scowled at him.
“Lucifer, we’ve seriously watched every one of these thousands of times. What are we looking for?”
Nothing. He was just stalling the inevitable, and there was no better place to waste time than in a time pocket where a year was the equivalent of maybe a week in Chaos. There were three options in front of him, and each of them required going into enemy territory. Michael and Jehovah were attacking Chaos with a death ray. Eranos was probably making an example of low-ranking Kadingir clan members in Alurabum. And then there was an older enemy—one that might be just as hostile, given their recent history.
Torrents of raw energy licked at his body. They had long ago consumed all of his clothing. “Maybe it is time we moved on.”
Sariel squinted at him. “Moved on to what?”
“I was thinking of a where, actually.”
Lucifer smiled at his brother. He knew Sariel would love the suggestion, for he had spent several years in Arnessa with his best friend while Lucifer was in military training to become the next Grand Commander.
“No way.”
Lucifer laughed. “Don’t expect a warm welcome, though. We killed his father.”
“I didn’t kill Veldin. He was like a second dad to me. Do you know how many times he personally came to a bar and picked us up? How many brothel doors he had to break down at two in the morning?”
“Have you tried talking to Elandril since he left for the celestial forges? Do you even know if he ever finished his training? I can’t imagine him in blue fiery skin, can you?”
“If he really went through with it, I’ll freak out …”
“So would a lot of ladies in Chaos …”
Lucifer remembered the golden days of their friendship. Elandril was the first goblin prince to ever enter Chaos. Everyone was so accustomed to seeing the goblin forgewrights, the ones with the melted skin from forging low quality zinanbar blades close to a sun, or celestial forgewrights who worked in the center of stars and literally had no skin, exposing an extremely bright, ethereal blue form. So, no one knew what to expect with Elandril, but past experience with goblins meant that everyone was expecting something ugly and maybe even grotesque.
Now, Lucifer was a handsome demon, and he knew it. Sariel too was just as cocky about his appearance. But Elandril and his blond hair, blue eyes, and stacked six-foot frame was flat out beautiful, and he’d taken the Courts by storm during his two decades there. No diplomat’s daughter was safe. No princess was off limits. He acted just like Lucifer and Sariel. He just wasn’t a demon.
Though Lucifer and Elandril were always close, Sariel and Elandril were best friends and completely inseparable. They ate at the same cafes and restaurants every day. They swapped dates. They wore themed costumes to parties, and they were a riot together, but those were far more innocent times.
“What are we going to wear?” Sariel asked.
“You are such a girl.”
“Shut up, man!” Sariel said. “I’m serious. I can’t return to my stomping grounds naked.”
“You do realize that you still have those pictures hanging up in your room, right?”
“Point taken,” Sariel laughed. “But that was a festival—a very naked festival.”
“Do you think it’s still going on right now?”
Sariel grew somber. “I wouldn’t know. When we left Arnessa last time, the whole place was dead. The Council was hunting down the goblin royalty, and we were hiding all those goblins under the embassy, remember?”
“Yeah.”
“You really think Eranos started the war?”
“Do you really think our father wanted to invade them?” Lucifer asked. “We accepted Elandril into our house to build an alliance with the goblins. Father told me so, both before and after the war. But there were all those assassinations in Alurabum, and Elandril had left for the celestial forges to pursue his dream. After the goblin emissary was killed, there was simply no one else to even ask for clarification, and since magic was used in many of the murders, the Council sort of took over in the decision-making. It snowballed out of control from there.”
“Always seemed too tidy for me.”
“Which is why I really do think Eranos started this mess. I mean, we’ve got orbs that show Veldin’s assassination, and we’ve got orbs that show some of the debates in the High Council, including his requests for a complete primal pattern wipe. It should be enough to get us into the goblin palace, at the very least. I just wish I understood why he did it.”
“I’ll keep looking.”
Lucifer stood up, stretched, and swatted at the tornados that tried to groom him from the walls of the vortex. “We need to look presentable.”
“Suits?”
“Definitely.”
“I know a guy in Alurabum. He’ll be discreet.”
“Think you can apparate there and back and …?”
Sariel didn’t even say goodbye. He just vanished. Lucifer chuckled, extended his wings, and pushed through the vortex. Ice formed around his body from the coldness of space. Even at faster than light speeds, it would take him months to get to Arnessa. As he propelled himself with nearby free-floating asteroids, faster and faster toward the speed of light, he tried not to think of the events in the courtyard.
But despite his best efforts, his mother’s green eyes found him anyway. His father’s gray ones, too, would watch Lucifer as the gruesome head rolled around on the ground, and his mouth would form those same words that Lucifer knew his father hadn’t ever actually said.
Put it down, son. Put it down.
