When the roll call passed to Lucifer, Azriphel stood. “The Princes of House Lucifer are dead or missing. I, Duke Azriphel of House Lucifer, in the absence of any who would defy me, claim the title of High Prince of House Lucifer.”
“Chairman,” Opheran said. “If you could verify his identity?”
The Chairman was already visible and he slowly floated over to Azriphel. “The Consortium verifies the identity of Duke Azriphel,” he rasped, obviously reluctant even after our agreement. “Per our records, he does assert a bloodline to Lucifer himself. His claim to the House is valid.”
House Mammon’s Prince rose, but before he could say anything, his High Prince hauled him back down. Azriphel smirked as he sat. “I thank you, Chairman. It has been some time since we last spoke.”
“Indeed.” The Chairman fluttered back to the Consortium’s table. I felt a bit of guilt. We’d taken away their hope of equality and independence, though they were getting a consolation prize.
Opheran stood again. “With our full quorum met, we have two orders of business on the agenda. First, House Asmodeus places this motion before the Council. We move that in light of their essential services to the Host, the Malefic Consortium be elevated from mere advisors to a full voting member of this Council. Recognizing this may lead to more ties and deadlocks, we add the following amendments to our motion. First, absence of a vote shall be considered abstention instead of a vote in the negative. Second, in the case of a tie, we shall open debate to allow each House an argument if they so choose, and then all Princes present shall vote upon the motion. This gives each House two votes, and in the case where this also results in a tie, the presiding High Prince shall break the tie.” He looked out across the chamber. “Do any second this motion?”
“House Lucifer seconds this motion,” Azriphel said. “Let it be said, without the assistance of the Consortium, none of our Houses would survive. Long have we taken their service for granted. This elevation in status is long overdue.”
“House Amon stands in opposition.” Their High Prince rose. “With all due respect to the Consortium, if they do not stand with us in all things, including warfare, we cannot allow them an equal voice in our proceedings.”
“House Belphagor stands in favor. House Lucifer’s words are ours as well.”
“House Mammon stands in favor.” I blinked in surprise. “Without the assistance of the imps over the centuries of exile, our House would never have acquired the riches and resources we have.”
Opheran nodded. “A majority of Houses have stood in favor of the motion. What say you, House Amon?”
Their High Prince shrugged. “We will not argue further, but we do warn our fellows, the Consortium’s aims and goals are not our own. They do not fight at our side. Be wary.”
The Chairman cleared his throat. “While we do not fight, as you say, we have often provided support to your forces as they fight. I reaffirm our pledge to provide these services to the Infernal Host, as per the requirements of the Pact.”
“House Leviathan would further amend this motion.” Their High Prince stood. “Let us agree this motion shall only come into effect with the next meeting of the High Council. As all things stand, we must allow House Lucifer time to appoint a second Prince, and the Consortium must appoint a second to their Chairman. Other Houses may find the delay acceptable.” He glanced at our table and smiled.
“House Asmodeus accepts this amendment.” Opheran nodded to Leviathan’s table. “Do any oppose? No? The motion passes as amended.”
I looked to the Chairman, who looked right back at me. A small smile crossed his face and I felt a sense of relief. Kibs was safe. Becky was going to be happy.
“The second order of business,” Opheran said, “is to determine our joint response to the war declared by the Eternal Conclave. Our Houses have quarreled long enough! Every proposal has failed. Divided we fight, and divided we fall. None of us can deny or hide our losses in the face of the human onslaught. We move to retreat to Hell, and it fails. We move to coordinate our forces, and it fails. We move to surrender, and it fails.” He slammed a fist on our table. “No more. One way or another, we will end this division today. House Asmodeus gives the floor to House Lucifer. Listen and listen well, my fellow Princes.”
He sat and Azriphel stood. Instead of standing at his table, he walked to the center of the room, standing between all the tables. His posture was slightly askew. I didn’t know if he was playing up his injuries for effect or if he was actually unable to regenerate fully. “I was captured by the mages of the Eternal Conclave years ago,” he said. “Shortly after the Gates of Purgatory opened, I was severely injured and fell unconscious within the mists. As we all know, Purgatory does not welcome nor tolerate the living. It ejected me back to Earth before I could regain consciousness. I know not where. Still injured near death, mages fell upon me before I could recover. I cannot tell you how they discovered me.”
I wondered if Hikari had helped discover his whereabouts. Regardless, I was glad he didn’t mention how he had received his severe injuries. “Over those years, I was tortured. They placed me in solitary confinement, leaving me with only my own thoughts for company for weeks, perhaps months at a time. The only times I was brought out was for other torture. Time after time, they brought me to the brink of death, and then allowed me to regenerate my wounds so slowly I could make no other use of my powers. They pressed answers out of me, information relating to the Host, to demons, to our exile, to the Pact, to everything. I stand ashamed before you. I gave them what they wanted. They broke me, physically, mentally, emotionally. Yet, one thing remained: my pride. I would stand bent and broken before them, but I would still stand and never fall.”
“Typical,” Tink muttered.
“My pride would not allow me to simply let myself die,” he continued. “Though it was always an option, a temptation. My fellow Princes, these human mages do not consider us worthy of respect or dignity. No, they do not even see us as worthy of humane treatment. If I had a choice between being taken prisoner by the Choir or the Conclave, I would choose the Choir.”
His admission gave rise to muttered conversation around the chamber. “Yes, the Choir would torment me, but they would kill me once they felt they were done with me. When the Conclave exhausted my information, they used me. They performed experiments on me. Tested spells on me. Vivisection. They never stopped torturing me. They enjoyed it.” His hand rose to his eyepatch. “If they grew bored of it for a time, they brought other prisoners to me and forced us to fight to the death for their entertainment. Once, they forced me to fight an angel. He was as exhausted as I was. We considered bleeding together simply to end our mutual torment.
“Yes, even ancient enemies may unite against this threat. See what has happened within our Host! House Asmodeus led an effort to rescue me, with the assistance of Houses Amon and Leviathan. It should be a message to all of you! Houses so long at odds with each other collaborated in this.” He turned in place, pointing at Mammon, Beelzebub, and Belphagor. “And instead, you considered their terms of surrender. Abject, total, complete capitulation? Have you no pride? You would sentence your Houses to servitude? I am surprised none of you have been unseated.”
“Strong words from a fallen House,” snarled Beelzebub.
“We fell in combat,” Azriphel snarled right back. “My House fought the Choir and lost. Our Houses were divided against the Choir and we are divided against the humans. Have we learned nothing?”
“What would you propose, then, Lucifer?” House Belphagor rose and leaned on her table. “The human world is turned against us. The mages murder us with impunity. Their magic can kill us in seconds, from a great distance, something even the Choir cannot do. It is too late for our people. Even united, we cannot stand against them.” She leaned forward on the table. “Surrender would allow our people to live. We stand on the verge of extinction. Isn’t it worth considering?”
“It is a fact our loss
es as a whole are severe,” Azriphel said. “Yet coordination can give rise to new tactics. Three Houses working together were able to destroy a major Conclave facility and rescue me. What can all seven Houses achieve together?”
“Die together,” Mammon’s High Prince said. “You don’t understand, Lucifer. Reading reports does not give you a true sense of the situation. My House has exhausted our fighting forces. Our losses mount and only slowly replenish, while the humans churn out new mages daily. I cannot speak for other Houses, but House Mammon can barely hold what we have.”
“We do not need to fight them to a standstill.” Azriphel pounded one fist into his palm. “We need to fight a retreating action. Fall back to Hell, where the humans cannot follow. Raid them. Take what we need to survive until we are self-sufficient. When we have rebuilt, we will bring Hell back to them.”
A chorus of growls broke out around the room and it was difficult for me not to join them. If there was one thing demons were experts on, it was revenge, and Azriphel had ample reason. Luckily, one person in the room wasn’t feeling the bloodlust. “Are you stupid, Azzy?” Tink stood up and crossed her arms as all the bloodlust focused on her. “Rebuild? You mean have a bunch of kids and train them to fight? How the hell do you think you’re going to out-breed humanity? Come on, you idiots. Any solution where you’re falling back means you’ve already lost.”
Silence fell again and even Azriphel looked to be at a loss for words. “It may be as you say,” he finally replied. “Even so, we must fight to survive, because slavery is not survival.”
“So fight to survive,” Tink replied. “Go fucking wild. But realize this, fighting to survive means you’re not fighting to win. It means you’ve already accepted losing. If you can’t win now, you’ll never win in the future. Humanity’s going to out-breed, out-magic, and out-think you. You might mature faster and live longer, but in a hundred years, we’ll be among the stars, assuming we haven’t killed ourselves by then. You’ll never match us. You’ll never get your revenge.”
“Even so!” Azriphel’s hands fell to his table and he leaned forward. “We must do something!”
His cry went unanswered until the Chairman cleared his throat and floated forward. “Forgive me for interrupting, High Prince, but we have just recorded a global announcement from Grandmaster Nathan Kane. It is directly pertinent to the discussion at hand.”
Azriphel ceded the floor with a gesture and I watched an imp wave a USB stick around, searching for a way to play it. A laptop and projector were scrounged up from somewhere and after a couple of minor technical missteps, the video started up, showing the red and white flag of the Conclave.
Nathan Kane appeared next. His hands gripped the sides of a podium and his expression was stony. “My fellow citizens of Earth, I bear grievous news. Less than a week ago, the Eternal Conclave lost contact with our secure Antarctic research facility. That facility has stood for decades, home to our best and brightest. We created and tested all forms of magic there, far enough from civilization so no harm would come to innocents. We researched and developed our skills and abilities.
“Today, I received a report on the fate of the Antarctic research facility.” His knuckles, barely visible on the tiny screen, whitened. “Demons forced their way into the facility and spent at least three days there. Those demons slaughtered hundreds, though our security forces fought bravely. Each of them killed at least two or three demons before falling. Once our fighting forces were defeated, the demons had their way with those who remained. Civilians. Non-combatants. Families. Children. There is evidence of torture. Rape. Unspeakable violence.”
“That is so not true,” I said. No matter how untrue it was, humanity would believe it. A lump grew in my throat.
“Worse yet, not all of the personnel were accounted for.” Kane seemed to be having trouble forcing his words out, but I presumed he was acting for the camera. “We can only assume the worst. The demons took them prisoner and brought them to the heart of the demonic realm. Our people have been brought to Hell itself.
“This is something we cannot allow to stand. We offered them a chance to surrender peacefully and end this bloodshed. We gave them a chance, my friends.” He finally slammed his hands on the podium. “No longer! No longer can we be content to simply drive them from our world. No, we shall bring the fight to them, in Hell and in Heaven, and we shall not rest until all of humanity is safe on Earth, not until all demons and angels lie dead or in chains at our feet. I know you are watching.” He pointed directly at the camera. “We know your secrets. We know how you move between our world and yours. We know where to look. We will discover how to do it ourselves and we will hunt you down like the monsters you are. This I do swear as the grandmaster of the Eternal Conclave, and I call upon all of humanity to stand with our Conclave in this goal.”
The image faded back to the Conclave’s flag until someone slammed the laptop shut. Azriphel stood again, his hands balled into fists. “We no longer have the luxury of waiting, my Princes,” he said quietly. “The Conclave has declared total war. We can stand divided and be prey, or we can stand together and show them we are predators as well. What say you?”
“Wait!” I stood up. All eyes turned to me. “I have an idea.”
Chapter Twenty One
“This is unprecedented,” Caleb said. “Absolutely unprecedented.”
“But it is a legitimate request,” I said.
“Legitimate, yes. Legitimate is one of several words I would use to describe this idea.” He paced back and forth in the situation room. I’d sent Kalil away for this discussion and Tink had told her sister to get lost for a while. Only a few people sat around the table today. Tink and I sat on one side. Opheran had returned to Earth today, just for this meeting. Becky sat on the opposite side and the Chairman floated in midair, arms crossed and looking bored. One chair remained empty. “I don’t believe this clause of the Pact has never been invoked.”
Opheran chuckled. “We have not yet invoked it. We simply want to see if we could invoke it.”
Caleb sat down next to Becky. “I don’t know.”
“Ask. The worst that can happen is they say no.”
“And if they say no, we’re all dead,” I added. “After yesterday’s announcement, they should know it just as well as we do. The Conclave’s going to come after us once they figure out how.”
“If they figure it out,” Caleb pointed out. “There’s no guarantee they will. I know humanity is resourceful, but can they actually discover how to make portals? Let alone make them to Heaven or Hell?”
“I think it’s possible. Human magic is adaptable. What do you think, Chairman?” I asked.
The imp nodded. “Our magic has the same basis as yours,” he rasped. “Ichor flows through our veins and it feeds our abilities just as it does yours. We simply have a different set of abilities and knowledge. Human magic can imitate everything we do. Their flexibility will make all things possible, given enough time. Including the ability to open portals.”
Opheran frowned. “I know this is a thing we are not supposed to ask, but given the circumstances, I believe it’s appropriate. How do your portals function? There seems to be no consistency.”
The Chairman fluttered down to stand on the table. “Your view of Heaven, Hell, and Earth being parallel to each other is flawed and always has been. It is a gross simplification we have encouraged you to believe.” The imps had become much more cooperative since the High Council’s vote. Thankfully, my finely honed trap sense wasn’t screaming at me, so it seemed like they were being truthful.
“So how do they work?” Tink asked.
“Your worlds are not layers sitting atop each other. This world, Heaven, and Hell, each one exists within a nexus floating in a great sea of nothing. Beyond your worlds are others.” The imp’s eyes glittered. “Each nexus leads to a different place, perhaps a different time. Some are empty. Some lead to lifeless worlds. Some do not seem to lead anywh
ere. Sometimes when we send a scout through, they don’t return. Sometimes they return with changes. Some of those changes can be disconcerting.”
“And when you enter a nexus, you enter that world?” I asked.
“We draw closer and closer,” he said. “At the closest approach to the boundary, we can weakly interact with it, which is how we can see and hear into your worlds while remaining unseen.”
“But you can move through this boundary?”
He nodded. “Our innate magic allows us to pass through the boundary at will. Now, as for the portals, within each nexus, there are places where the boundary between the world and the sea of nothing is weaker. Where there is weakness, we can tear it open to allow you through.”
“An entrance portal,” Caleb said. He seemed as fascinated by this as anyone else at the table. “How do you make sure the exit is where you want it to be?”
The imp sighed. “To simplify again, we determine the most direct path between the entrance and exit. When we tear the boundary, we tear it in a direction, so to speak. When you step into a portal, you fall through the sea until reaching the exit tear. Our forms and magic give us the ability to swim through the sea, but you simply fall through.”
“And to transit between the different worlds, you aim us at another nexus?”
The Demon Behind Me Page 26
