I looked down to the water and expected to see my own reflection staring back at me. White hair. Silver eyes.
It was my face, but it wasn’t. Lucifer stared back at me.
I wrenched myself back from the apparition of my lover in the underground lake. The Lord put her hand on my shoulder and knelt to my level on the floor.
“What is it you desire, Wings?”
“I don’t want wings.” I whispered.
“No child. You are wings. You are the Deceiver's wings, fashioned into a mate for the Devil from feathers and divinity.” The Lord's eyes were white light, made up of all the colours on the spectrum and none at the same time.
“I know.” I replied. Unsure of her point.
“By all means, you are an Angel. Dahlia Clark.” The Lord smiled indulgently. “You are the spark that I used to create Lucifer, before he became tainted with Sin.”
I shook my head and could not help the low chuckle that escaped my throat. I reached up and patted the Lord's face. I deliberately made the action as condescending as possible. Her endearing lisp made me want to wrap her up and braid her hair into pigtails.
“I am no Angel.” I stood up swiftly and flicked the water from my wet hands. The still surface of the underground lake was disturbed by the droplets of water.
“The Guardian has taken a liking to you, child.” The Lord stretched and at her full height, she was about a head taller than me. A pang of superficial longing for my high heels struck my chest but I kept my expression impassive.
“That statement means nothing to me.”
“Lucifer was locked away for betraying me. Swallowed by the Prison of my making. The Guardian was dragged down with Lucifer. Only able to leave when the Devil's sentence was served.”
Heavenly politics. What a bore.
“How long was Luc's sentence meant to be?” I examined my nails, in benign boredom.
“Until he was worthy of his divinity again.” The Lord replied simply.
Uriah shifted from one foot to the other behind me, but he had been so silent during our exchange that I had forgotten that he was there.
“But Luc escaped.” I replied with certainty.
“That is not important.” The Lord said with a strange glaze over her eyes. She spoke with barely contained excitement. “You were placed in the Prison and the Guardian has deemed you worthy of divinity.” She clapped her hands and bounced. Her nudity made the innocent action into something obscene.
“I have no use for such things.” I sniffed. “I only want to go home.”
“But—”
I held my hand up to interrupt her and Uriah made a strange choking noise in the back of his throat. It probably should have occurred to me that I was talking to God as if I was chastising a client and taking their soul, but it was difficult to extend reverence to someone when you had only ever been on the receiving end of worship.
“I will tear your walls to the ground. I will rip out your precious divinity if you do not show me the way back to Hell.” I kept my voice soft and unthreatening. “Now point the way.”
Lord began to laugh so heartily that she had to grasp her stomach. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and I saw the sparkle of tears in the corners of her eyes.
“Child, you are so young.” The Lord's eyes crinkled at the edges and the wisdom in her gaze made me shrink back.
She had the knowledge of the beginning and end of time. The power that had felled me when she had first appeared on the surface of the lake returned in full force and a breath loosened from my lips before I could control it. The Lord had been holding back her power. If she ever unleashed it, she could burn me to embers where I stood without lifting a finger.
“Will you humour an old God, Dahlia?” The Lord placed her hand on my shoulder, much in the same way that I had done earlier. It was a gesture meant to patronise when I had done it, but it was supportive and kind from her.
I found myself nodding, and the movement was outside of my control.
Her hand slipped from my shoulder and rested inside the open lapels of my bloodied shirt. The Lord placed her palm against my sternum. Our eyes were locked.
I felt a shock vibrate through my bones and electricity bolted through the Lord's fingertips.
I felt my consciousness darken around the edges of my vision and my body crumpled like a house of cards.
The lake swallowed me whole.
I had not set foot in the City of Dis at the centre of Hell in two hundred and sixteen years. Two hundred and twenty-two if indeed five years had passed. If Uriah was to be believed.
I recognised the dusty red cobblestones and the crackling sky, alive and colourful like burning firewood. The fabric storefronts flapped in the non-existent breeze, and I could not help the smile that lit up my face as I took in my childhood stomping grounds.
Various young Hellions darted around, disappearing into the air and reappearing behind their companions. Their laughter was a soundtrack that I could have listened to on loop. The last time I had been to Dis had been uneventful. If I had known that I was to be cast out into the Human Realities, I would have savoured it.
The rough stone under my feet and the smell of burning in the air. The clamber of the jewellery shops and smuggled delicacies from the human realities. It filled me with nostalgia. Demons had no business eating, being sustained by Sin, but sometimes Meat Buns or powdered doughnuts would find their way onto the black market, traded to Demons that wanted to understand what it was to taste something. Even if their body would reject it later.
Hellions strived for sensation, connection. Pain. Sin.
The sun caught a shiny object and my attention with it. I stepped forward, carefully darting around the young Purebloods playing with a struggling lost soul. There was a familiar face weaving through the edge of the crowd; Luc watched the children playing. A shadow.
The approaching sound of fevered steps caused my attention to snap back like a rubber band; someone approached the children and waved their hands. It was one of the shopkeepers. An unimportant being with no power of which to speak. They stepped right through me. I was smoke. Dust.
I was trapped in a film of the past.
I had been so happy to see my home again, but I soon remembered that the Lord pushed into a vision. It was a play-by-play of some event in the past that she felt was important to show me.
Who understood the whims of the Gods?
I followed the platinum hair of my lover, as The Devil disappeared between two shop stalls. His steps were swallowed by the darkness in between the rustling canvas curtains.
Nightmares, lower Demons named Drudes that could only hold the form of shadows, swirled around his feet like sand.
Luc reached a dead end quickly and leant against the brick wall. He kicked his long leg back until his leather boot rested against the rough brick. He eyed the sky with a wistful expression. I watched with a sense of longing so broad that it threatened to cleave me in two.
Someone unfamiliar stepped into the darkness of the alleyway. Ba’el had fallen from Heaven shortly after Luc, and his disappearance in the last century had caused quite a fracas in Hell. Ba’el’s eyes were red like Abe’s, but the edges were rimmed with a black. His hair was closely cropped to his head, and stuck up in asymmetrical tufts. His bulky form made Luc look weedy in comparison. Ba’el was Wrath personified. Every movement was a tiger preparing to spring. Every sound out of his mouth echoed with thousands of war cries. He dealt in chaos and traded in blood and pain.
I had always thought of Ba’el as muscle and limited brains, but there was a spark behind his eyes that I had never noticed before. I did not know if God had pulled the blinders from my eyes and allowed me to see what was always there, or if she had placed it there to manipulate my perception.
“I cannot do it anymore, Ba’el. I cannot allow her to die.” Luc said, without weakness.
“What of the child?”
“I’ll just have to find another in which to plant my seed,” Lu
cifer smirked. He pulled a coin from his pocket and began to fiddle with it. He rolled it in between his fingers, with the confidence of a magician.
“What would your Consort say to that?” Ba’el laughed. “I don’t think she would be best pleased.”
“I would say so.”
“Does she know about your harem?”
“Pet has always been aware of my harem. She isn’t aware that it is no longer operational.” Luc flipped the coin and placed it on the back of his hand to check if it was heads or tails.
“What?” Ba’el choked in horror. Colour drained from his face. Lucifer shrugged without emotion.
“Does she know?” Ba’el asked.
The shift in Lucifer’s demeanour was so sharp that it gave me whiplash. He reached forward and clasped Ba’el throat in his hand. Demons did not need to breath, so the action was posturing but the submissive bow of Ba’el head implied that the thread had been heeded.
“My Pet does not need to know what happened before the Fall.” Luc hissed through gritted teeth. His eyes shone bright like the hottest part of the flame.
Ba’el nodded. “Surely, she should know. If she is to give birth to a child that can tap into your tarnished Divinity.” His voice was strained as he spoke around the clenched fist at his throat.
“My Pet will not birth the prophesized child. I have made my decision. I plan to send her to the Human Realities.” Lucifer released Ba’el and began to dust down his tunic with casual ease.
“And if she tries to return?” Ba’el asked.
“Pet is obedient. She won’t.”
“Surely you should give her a name.” Ba’el’s fingers twitched at the hilt of his dagger, but he forced his voice to reflect Lucifer’s relaxed stance.
“Perhaps I will give her one as a parting gift. Do not worry yourself, Ba’el. I will not have a child. I will not kill my consort. I will not bring down the wrath of the Summerland by siring a Fallen Child.” Luc straightened Ba’el lapels and slapped his cheek playfully. Ba’el was a head taller, but the confidence in Luc’s stance made him seem the more threatening of the two.
Ba’el was rigid and Luc was fluid. Both men could not be more different but both had fallen from the Summerland.
“I will not question you again, my King.” Ba’el bowed his head, but the fealty was stiff and forced.
Lucifer looked away and scanned the alleyway; his attention elsewhere as if Ba’el’s actions bored him.
“Just remember King of Wrath. I know your heart. I am several steps ahead of you.” Lucifer tapped his nose.
Ba’el nodded and disappeared in a flurry of Hellfire.
Lucifer was left alone in the alleyway. He put his head in his hands and his demeanour slumped as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
I was pulled gasping from the depths of the lake by the sure hands of the Lord of the Summerland. She rocked me like a child and soothed the wet tangles of my hair. I struggled to push her away, much in the way of a cornered feline. Her laughter was soft as she watched my discomfort at her casual affection.
She nodded, as if the flash of fear in my eyes at the notion of a hug had confirmed something that she already knew.
“Did the lake show you what you needed to see?” The Lord cocked her head to the side. She gripped my cheeks and looked deeply into my eyes. The swirling kaleidoscope of her irises caused my brain to itch, as if it was being infiltrated. I slapped her hands away.
“You know what I saw.” I said without inflection.
“It must be difficult to live in a sovereignty that thrives on each King trying to overthrow the other.” The Lord mused.
I felt strangely defensive of my home. “The Seven Originals are the pillars of the Dimension. One falls, and they all fall.”
The Lord of the Summerland smiled, showing every one of her perfect white teeth. “I know. I made them.”
Again, I was rendered speechless by the awe of her power and the refusal to show the Lord reverence.
“You love Lucifer.” She stated.
“Yes.”
“Even after the way he has treated you.”
“I did not give you permission to skim my mind.”
“We both know that you have taken more information from someone’s mind, without permission, than I ever have.” The Lord quipped and then sighed heavily. “Although that does not make my actions right, I suppose. I just grow so vengeful where Lucifer is concerned.”
“Why did you show me Lucifer’s indifference to me?” I asked quietly, as I pushed a wet tendril of hair behind my ear.
“I did not. I showed you his willingness to protect you. Against both Heaven. Hell. And himself.”
As soon as the words left her plumb lips, my skin began to boil under the wet fabric of my ripped shirt. I placed my hand on my sternum, over the hovering ghost of where she had touched me. Raised skin greeted me. It was a rune, burnt into my skin where my ribs met.
Instinctively, I knew what it said.
It was the Enochian rune for ‘Love’.
I had never spoken a word of Enochian in my life, but suddenly I understood it all.
Uriah and I walked down the corridor, back to my cell, and I found myself rubbing the raised skin of my chest as if I could erase the mark that the Lord had bestowed onto my chest.
“Not that way, Ms Clark.” Uriah did not grip my arm but instead placed his own in front of me to gently change my direction.
I nodded silently and followed like a good little sheepdog. I was unable to cope with what the Lord had shown me. How Luc had spoken about me with such discontent.
Previous arguments filtered to the forefront of my mind as I thought about my Master. He had told me that he was protecting me.
The second that Lucifer had opened his arms and rose me up to join him on the throne of the First Circle, my life had been shattered and I had been killed.
I may have been known as the Queen of the First Circle, but it had always been in name only. When a gathering or meeting took place, I had knelt on the floor by Luc's side like a dog.
I remembered the long periods of time where I had been ignored as punishment.
Brief periods of euphoria and hesitantly gentle touches had been few and far between but I had craved them like an addict.
I had loved so deeply that I carried a child to term when all the signs pointed to my death. The desire that I had felt towards the Devil could only be compared to the love that I felt for my child.
Despite the fact I had never met her, I would rip armies apart for her. I would face the Lord herself if it meant that she was safe and happy.
Uriah drew to a stop, and I was pulled from my thoughts by the gigantic fluffy white dog that blocked the corridor. Its lips were black as were its eyes, giving the illusion that it was wearing eyeliner. The Hound was a snow dog of sorts. It’s virgin white coat was marred only by the crimson tips of its fox-like ears that stood to attention as if it could hear everything for miles around.
I did not recognise the beast, but it’s rose red eyes surveyed my own with careful deliberation and familiarity.
“The Guardian,” I whispered, unsure of how I knew the information to be correct. I took a step forward before my mind could communicate with my feet, and my fingers stretched out to touch the silky fur of the creature.
Uriah stuttered a word that sounded a lot like don’t and stop, but I had already wrapped my arm around the Hound and stroked its large head with a gentle caress.
There was a kinship that I did not understand that bloomed inside of my chest. It was a similar sensation to the one I felt when I encountered another being from Hell, but it was lighter. Like tentative fingertips clenching my heart.
I took the beast's head in my hands. Its breath fogged in front of its mouth despite the balmy temperature.
“I know you,” I whispered. “Something inside of me knows you.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Uriah supplied helpfully. “The Lord said that you were L
ucifer's wings? That he sacrificed his rotten divinity to create you?”
I nodded.
“Your Divinity recognises him,” Uriah said. “Divinity can only be tarnished if the person that carries it is fallen. You have never fallen.” Uriah explained as if he unravelled the puzzle as his mouth moved.
I rubbed the dog’s head absently and then rested against his fluffy rump. I could hear the steady flutter of his heartbeat.
“The Guardian is tied to Lucifer's curse. Only when Lucifer has been cleansed of his Sin, would the Guardian be free.” Uriah looked down at the dog and I curled into a ball together.
“I am not without sin,” I informed him.
“You sacrificed your life for your child. That would have wiped the slate clean, in the Lord's opinion.” Uriah's voice had a fervent quality to it that I had only heard from professors that truly loved their subjects.
“You are more attractive when you are not scowling.” I noted as I stared up at his square jaw.
“That is irrelevant to the conversation we are having.” He said with confusion.
“I am not part of this one-man conspiracy theory.” I stood up and brushed the front of my shirt even though it was still damp and without any buttons.
Uriah turned away and I got the impression that he was rolling his eyes at me.
I started to walk in the direction of the dungeons, when I recognised the wood carving on the wall. Uriah steered me the opposite way instead.
“The Lord has asked me to provide you with a room,” Uriah explained.
“No one will attempt to assassinate me as I rest?”
“There are strong wards.” He said.
The guardian stayed by my side. The dog joined me in my lodgings when we reached the basic room on the other side of the organic fortress. He curled up and went straight to sleep.
I had enough time to change into a fresh outfit of white flowy material that looked like it belonged to the Greek Parthenon before Uriah knocked on my door again.
“Are you ready for your second trial?” he asked.
My brow furrowed. “Is that what is happening? I assumed it was some sort of mental torture.”
The Devil's Lullaby Page 4
