Barlowe, Wayne - God's Demon

"And what of us? We are not like the others—like Beelzebub and the rest. Must we share their fate forever?"

Valefar returned Sargatanas' gaze and for a moment said nothing. Eligor held his breath.

"What you are suggesting cannot be done. We cannot go back."

"I would try," Sargatanas said evenly. "I do not know if we can or not—if accepting our responsibility in the War is enough. Or if pleading our remorse can absolve us. I do not know, Valefar. I do know that I cannot live in this place, as it is—under the Fly—and that I would destroy all this, this palace, this city, this world, and myself as well, if only to look upon His Face again for an instant."

Sargatanas rose. He described the sigils of the Barons Zoray and Faraii in the air before him, sending them on their way with a dismissive twitch of his hand.

Valefar approached him and, to Eligor's surprise, embraced the Demon Major. He then dropped to one knee.

"My lord, my friend, let me be your fiery right hand, your burning torch to light your way back. And to flame the very streets of Dis, if need be."

"I would have it no other way, Valefar."

Eligor walked before the two demons and sank to his knees as well.

"Lord, I, too, have heard all that you have said. I would be your left hand and, in it, the uncleavable shield that protects you."

Sargatanas, smiling, bade them both stand.

"We have many preparations. As of this moment, we must regard ourselves as a state apart in this world. A renegade state. Therefore, Prime Minister, I need you to go quietly and quickly to the Lesser Lords Andromalius and Bifrons and bring them here. As my clients they will have no choice but to come. And no choice but to support me."

And to Eligor he said, "Henceforth, in this new time, you and your Guard will have to add secret police to your list of many tasks. I must know of the shifting thoughts of those closest to my throne. As seemingly unimpeachable as my inner circle is, no one is safe from corruption."

Valefar bowed and withdrew, and Eligor nodded, resuming his station just behind Sargatanas. As Eligor watched the figure of the Prime Minister diminish across the wide floor, he saw the distant, fiery-headed forms of the demons Faraii and Zoray emerge from the arcades. It would be interesting, Eligor thought, to watch their reactions to his master's plans. As it would all of Hell's.

Chapter Twelve

DIS

For the first time that any demon could remember, Algol could be seen during the day in Hell's troubled sky, blazing bright and luminous. Like a blood-filmed eye, Adramalik thought, staring out from his window in the uppermost level of the Keep. What did the Watchdog look down upon that engendered such anger?

The Chancellor General looked out at his city far below. Normally dark and lit only by patches of spontaneous random fires, it now looked painted with blood. Algol's furious brush had daubed the roofs, the streets, the statues, the many-spired, huge edifices, and even the Keep itself in red. A world bathed in the blood of its souls. That, he thought, would be a more perfect world.

He found the vivid light beautiful, evocative, an artifact of the star so compelling that he sat on the window-ledge until Algol set. The city returned to its former self, dark and mysterious, its shades of black cloaking the horrors that he had helped create.

ADAMANTINARX-UPON-THE-ACHERON

Eligor, too, watched the star set as he waited for Baron Faraii to join him. Its remarkable fading light turned the Acheron into a shimmering red snake sinuously meandering through the city. He looked down at the bricks of the dome's parapet upon which he sat and saw a half-dozen souls' eyes staring out, the ruddy light reflected sharply in their glassy surface. What were they thinking?

Eligor heard the distant flapping of wings and saw one of his patrols circling high above him. Evidence of what Sargatanas had called a heightened readiness. He turned and cast his eyes up at the enormous dome behind him. Giant braziers were inset into its curving, otherwise smooth wall, spaced evenly around and reminiscent of the flaming coronet that sometimes encircled Sargatanas' head. At the moment, Eligor noted, they were an ineffective light source against the last rays of Algol.