"These strike me as needless distinctions. Next thing we know, there will be a region set aside for sorcerers!"
"In the Eighth Circle, along with the hypocrites, thieves, barrators, and seducers."
"Sorcerers are damned?" he demanded, outraged. "But it is a legitimate profession!"
She shrugged. "I could not have corrupted You, had You not been already on the path to corruption, and Your sorcery was much of it."
"We need some revision of definitions! Great numbers of these folk do not belong here!"
She did not answer, perhaps being wiser than he in this respect. They passed on through the Third and Fourth and Fifth Circles, seeing the gluttons, misers, and wrathful souls confined there. In the Sixth they encountered the three winged furies: hideous women with snaky hair. In the Seventh they crossed the River of Blood, for this was where the violent were confined, harried by the Hounds of Hell and harpies and centaurs.
"But this is all confused," he protested. "The hounds should be guardians, and the centaurs record keepers, because of their intellectual capacities." Now the sand on which they walked became burning hot.
A volcano rumbled, and spouted fire, and burning flakes rained down on them. The incarcerated souls cried out in anguish—and so did Parry as a fire flake singed him. "They aren't supposed to affect You," Lilah said angrily.
"What mischief is this?"
"The mischief of some entity who doesn't want change," Parry muttered. "Naturally the governing demons want me to fail—and until I find that spell, I can't do much about it."
"This is true," she said, furious. "Asmodeus is behind this, I'm sure. He remains loyal to Lucifer."
"We'd better get out of here." Parry resumed his singing, and now when the fire flakes came down, they passed through his body without effect. He could do a lot with his voice, but knew that it would not work against one of the ranking spirits. He had seen enough, and learned enough, to know that further exploration was pointless. Hell required an entire overhaul, and he could not accomplish that until he learned the spell he needed to control the demons and damned souls.
Lilah opened a tunnel, and they soon climbed up out of Hell. It was now dark on the surface of the world, and Parry was tired. It was not physical fatigue, but rather the rush of experience. "Let's go to some comfortable retreat and relax for the night," he told her. He knew better than to return to his old chamber in the monastery; they would be cleaning that out, considering him to be dead.
Lilah drew a circle on the trunk of a large oak tree, and opened a door there. Inside was a pleasant nook, with pillows. She drew him in and closed the door. He embraced her and fell asleep. Theoretically he no longer needed sleep, but he realized that there were psychological needs as well as physical ones, and his change of circumstance did not change that.
In the morning, emotionally restored, he decided to tackle the problem at the top. "I have vanquished Lucifer; I should be able to back off the souls he vanquished," he said.
"My Lord, You are as yet innocent in the ways of evil," she cautioned him. "It takes time to get fully into it. They have had many centuries. Do not face them without possession of that spell."
"But I can sing to them if I have to," he reminded her. "That conquered you and Charon."
"I am a demoness. He is—" She paused.
"Not a demon?" he prompted.
"Not exactly. But it occurred to me that his mother, Nox, who is an old acquaintance of mine, might know something."
"Nox?"
"Night. She is the oldest of the deities of our pantheon, the daughter of Chaos. She goes back before I do, which is pretty far. She married her brother Erebus, who is the Incarnation of the Darkness Between Earth and Hades, that region now parceled out between Limbo and Purgatory. In addition to Charon they generated the Incarnations of Air, Day, Fate, Death, Retributions, Dreams and others I misremember at the moment. She—"
"The mother of the Incarnations?" he asked, amazed. "But how, then, can they be offices?"
"Anything becomes boring after a time, unless constantly refreshed. I would be in a bad way if the Incarnation of Evil did not change periodically, bringing me new interest and challenge. The early Incarnations lost interest, so one by one they vacated, allowing mortals to step in and assume their positions as offices. I believe Nox is the only original Incarnation to retain her position, perhaps because of the everlasting fascination of the things she hides. If any immortal knows the secret of that spell, she might."
Parry kept his hope restrained. "Nox is an original immortal Incarnation, not a damned soul, but she might have learned it?"
"That's what I think. If the secret were ever uttered under cover of night, she would know it."
"Well, let's go see her, then!"
"Not so fast, my Lord! I am not certain she would tell You if she did know, or what payment she would demand for it."
"Payment?"
"The Kingdom of Evil does not flourish on altruism." Parry nodded. "What payment do you think she might ask?"
"I must answer, my Lord, but I do not wish to. She is the one female who knows more of the ways of passion than I do. She is ageless, renewed at every turn of the world. If she found You appealing—"
Oh. "Let's leave her as a last resort. If I stand to wash out, and you prefer to risk Nox rather than let me go, then we can go to her."
"You are more generous to me than Lucifer was," she said.
"Lucifer had a turn with Nox?"
"Anyone has a turn with Nox, if she desires it."
"I will stay away from her. But I must tackle the problem of Hell regardless." Parry got up, pushed open the porthole door, and climbed out of the tree. It was day outside, and this turned out to be a park. A little boy gaped, then ran back to tell his mommy. Lilah smiled, emerging and closing the panel. "She will never believe him." They moved on.
They bypassed the several Circles of Hell and went directly to the executive office. This was in a pavilion made of ice, set on a frozen lake in the deepest cavern of Hell. There was a huge throne on the ice which was empty: Lucifer's vacated headquarters. Parry had visited him in a different, warmer hall, evidently one reserved for minor audiences. Asmodeus' office was to the right of this.
Obviously Parry's entry had been anticipated, because the office was clear except for Asmodeus. He had wings and horns and a barbed tail: his semblance for this duty.
"You know who I am," Parry said. "You knew it was me when you directed the rain of fire."
"I know thou art a pretender to the throne of one whose spittle thou art not worthy to wipe off thy face," Asmodeus said evenly. "Come here at last to the Circle of Traitors, fittingly enough."
"I vanquished Lucifer!" Parry retorted. "Now his office is mine, and you are bound to serve me."
"Thou hast taken advantage of freak luck during Lucifer's carelessness. Now we have to put up with thy posturing for a month until thou receivest thy just desserts. Begone, impostor, before I chastise thee!"
"This is mutiny!" Parry exclaimed. "You know the penalty for that!"
"Get thee out of my sight, impostor—and that whore who aids thee!" Asmodeus gestured—and a cloud of energy surrounded Parry and Lilah. They were swept up and carried away.
In a moment the cloud dissipated. Parry found himself in a gloomy forest. "I was afraid of this," Lilah muttered. "This is the Seventh Circle."
"But that was where the River of Blood was, and the rain of fire."
"First and third rings of it. This is the second ring, which we bypassed before. This is the Wood of the Suicides."
Parry paused. "What's so bad about this?"
"Those," she said, pointing.
From a distance charged a pack of vicious-looking dogs, slaver dripping from their maws as they bayed. "The Hounds of Hell," he said, understanding. "But we can escape them readily enough by climbing one of these trees."
"And those," she said, pointing up.
He looked, and saw a bevy of foul creatures per
ched on high limbs. They had the bodies and wings of gross birds, but the heads and breasts of old women. "Harpies," he said, understanding. "We are caught between the two horrors."
"As are the suicides, perpetually torn apart no matter where they try to hide," she said.
"So Asmodeus sent us here, implying that we committed suicide by broaching him."
"Or as an experiment. If you cannot escape this, then you pose no threat to him."
Parry realized that it was a fair test. Asmodeus' magic should not be able to overcome the Master of Hell. Only Parry's unfamiliarity with the ways of his office made him vulnerable. "But both groups are demons. I can sing them into quiescence."
"I'm not sure—" she started.
But Parry was already opening his mouth. He began to sing—and immediately the harpies burst into raucous song of their own, drowning him out.
The Hellhounds coursed on in, their baying no longer audible. They could not hear his song, so were not pacified, and the same was true for the harpies. What a neat trap!
They leaped for the trees. Lilah ordinarily could float or fly when she chose, but evidently here in Hell she was confined to mundane motion. Perhaps Asmodeus had restricted her, so that she could no longer open a tunnel out.
The trees were easy to climb, having huge, gnarly low limbs. But immediately the dirty birds fluttered down, screeching continuously, extending their talons.
Parry found a small dead branch. He broke it off and wielded it as a club, striking at the first harpy to come at him. But the club passed through her body without resistance; she was a phantom. Then her claws clamped on his arm, and they were like steel.
He was no phantom to her!
It was the one-sided situation he had encountered before: the creatures of Hell could strike at him, but he could not retaliate against them. That must be standard in Hell, so that the damned souls could be continuously harried by all manner of horrors without having any chance to resist or to strike back. It hardly seemed fair—but Hell was hardly the place for fairness!
He lifted his arm to shake her off, but she clung, colored spittle spraying from her foul mouth as she screeched, her dugs bouncing as she flapped her wings. Every drop of spittle that touched him burned. He could not get free, and the next was closing on him. Lilah seemed no better off.
Something clicked in Parry's mind. If he could not shake her off, then she was anchored to him—by her claws. He could not touch her directly, but he could affect her.
He lifted his arm, and her with it. Then, as the second swooped in, he swung his arm violently at her.
The first harpy smashed into the second. Both squawked and fell out of the air. Parry was free, for the moment.
But more were hovering close, and they had seen what had happened. Now they swooped down, slashing rather than grabbing. Parry tried to dodge, but he almost fell out of the tree. He had to hang on lest he drop into the mass of hounds that leaped at the trunk immediately below him.
A talon slashed his hand. It was sword-sharp, and evidently some of the poison spittle was on it because his hand flared with pain. He was out of options.
Except—what about magic? He was after all a sorcerer. His song had worked in Hell because of its magic; perhaps his other magic would also be effective.
He crafted a hasty illusion about himself: a huge, glowering bear. The bear swiped at the nearest harpy, growling villainously. She spooked, flying clumsily back.
But in a moment they realized that it was unreal, and charged in again. However, Parry had not wasted his brief reprieve; he was busy crafting other illusions. He made three imitation harpies, who flapped down to buzz the hounds. He also made a hound, who leaped up and caught one of the illusory harpies in his teeth, biting through her wing, then chomping her neck as she flopped realistically on the ground. In a moment her gore was splattered all over; it was a most realistic illusion, and he was rather proud of it.
The hovering harpies, seeing this, reacted with understandable fury. They forgot Parry and swooped down on the hounds, clawing at them. Naturally they thought that the hounds had turned on them, and so they struck back. That aroused the hounds, and soon the battle between them was fairly raging.
Parry was forgotten. He joined Lilah in the tree, then crafted a spell of undetectability for them both. His magic was working perfectly, even if hers wasn't.
That made sense, in retrospect. She was a demoness, subject to the power of the rulers of Hell; he was not even a damned soul, but a living Incarnation. None of his powers had been stripped from him. Asmodeus had done to him what he had done to the harpies: deceived him with illusion. Now he had penetrated it, and escaped the trap.
"Make an exit," he told Lilah as they walked away from the carnage.
"But my power has been stripped, my Lord," she protested.
"Mine has not," he said gruffly. "I am the true Master of Hell; you may do what I tell you. Your powers are restored. Make an exit."
She circled with her hand, and the porthole manifested. She drew it open, and they went through.
They were silent as they made their way to the surface, but Parry was conscious of her glances. He had just taken a giant step toward the realization of his powers as the Incarnation, and she respected this.
But all he had done was escape the mischief of Asmodeus. That was a far cry from assuming the true overlordship of Hell! He had to have that spell—and how was he to get it?
"My Lord," Lilah said as they stood in daylight again. "I have been foolish to let you suffer such mischief, when the answer may be at hand. I will take you to Nox."
He nodded. That did seem best.
Chapter 10 - INCARNATIONS
Lilah, wary of the impending interview with Nox, insisted on making love by day. Parry wasn't sure whether this was her effort to deplete his interest in the Incarnation of Night, or from concern that this might be the last time. He had no intention of straying, but his curiosity was increasing.
Of course, he had no intention of straying from Jolie, either. He still loved the memory of Jolie, but she was gone, and he was now too far corrupted by evil to be worthy of her, so that was done. But if he ever found a way to free her from the drop of blood and allow her to proceed to Heaven, he would do it gladly. Certainly he would not let her be confined to Hell!
Nox lived in Purgatory, where it seemed most of the Incarnations resided. In fact. Parry himself had a residence there, a palatial structure served by unassigned servants: those who were in such balance at death that they had gone neither to Heaven nor to Hell. The surprise with which his arrival was greeted showed that the Incarnation of Evil had seldom stopped by. Indeed, he did not stay long; he moved on to the realm of Nox.
This turned out to be a region of everlasting night. Not a dark cloud, for there was no smoke or fog; a section in which the light faded and the stars shone down, no matter what the time of day. The residence was like a ghostly nebula, a segment of the great Milky Way, glowing yet indeterminate.
Lilah guided him on in with confidence. Inside, they seemed to be floating through the heavens, becoming ghosts themselves.
"A greeting" It was neither voice nor thought, but rather like a memory from a dream.
"Nox, I embrace you," Lilah said, spreading her arms.
Indeed, she seemed to be in contact with something, but Parry could not tell what.
"What is thy business, mine ancient sister?"
Parry started. Sister?
"This is Parry, who just assumed the Office of Evil," Lilah explained. "He does not yet understand."
The darkness intensified, becoming opaque. Now the form of a lovely woman in a cloak stood before him. Her eyes were stars, twinkling as they gazed on him. "You feel for him, Lil?"
"I do. He comes to ask a favor."
The woman-shape opened her cloak and moved into him. Parry found himself embraced by something at once too diffuse and subtle to comprehend, and unutterably feminine. Something like a kiss caressed his mouth, a
nd something like breasts touched his chest, and things very like seductive legs came up against his as though he wore no clothing. The femaleness of her overwhelmed him, making him react, inciting his desire; suddenly there was no other thing he wanted to do, now or ever, except embrace her as intimately as was inhumanly possible. His mission here had no meaning; there was only Nox, the Goddess of Night. He had never known a woman like her, neither mortal nor immortal; she was all he could ever dream of, the ultimate fulfillment.
Then she withdrew, leaving him longing, desperate with desire for her. He wanted to cry out to her, and could not; he wanted to reach out for her, and could not. She was ineffable, a thing that came only at her own behest, never his, and infinitely desirable because of it.
"I leave him to you, my sister" Nox sent. "He is special."
"I thank you, my sister," Lilah said, visibly relieved.
Slowly Parry relaxed, as the sensation of the presence left him. He became conscious of his mission.
"We speak figuratively," Lilah said to him. "She is the oldest Incarnation; I am the oldest female creature. But she is a goddess, and I only a demoness. We are sisters in age and sex, not substance."
Parry only nodded, not yet ready to speak. A goddess! No wonder he had been overwhelmed!
"He needs the spell to banish demons," Lilah said.
"Surely he does... I do not have it."
Disappointment. Parry could not be certain whether his anguish was because she could not help him, or because he would now have to leave her presence.
"Perhaps Chronos."
"We thank you, Nox," Lilah said. "We shall ask him first."
"Last."
Lilah smiled. "Of course. That's what I meant."
They moved out of the darkness, departing the intoxicating presence. "She let you go!" Lilah breathed, as if amazed.
Parry didn't want to say that he would have preferred to have been kept by the goddess. But Lilah knew it. "She has that effect on men," she said. "It will wear off, in time. You can now appreciate why I was worried."