Lucifer squeezed Anne’s hand against his chest as they hurtled through space and checked his shoulder to make sure he hadn’t lost anyone. Several fish-heads, who were not accustomed to the cold extremes of extra-planetary travel, clung to each wing tendril. He chuckled at the way their mouth plates rattled together.
He pointed forward and gave them a thumbs-up. He could see the mouth of the vortex ahead—maybe a billion miles or so away. From here, it looked like a red, blinking planet.
He made a lifting motion to the fish-heads, which was his signal for them to move closer to his body so he could punch his wings into nearby objects. He didn’t want to lose one of his buddies.
He managed to connect with a mile-wide asteroid and completely pulverized it. Better to use a small asteroid than one of the nearby planets. At this rate of speed, a small nudge could be the difference between a stable orbit and wobbling into the local sun.
He corrected his trajectory with more asteroids and wiped debris from his face and mouth as they spiraled through the space dust. Some of the larger debris knocked the ice from his body, but it slowly crept back across his skin.
The red, blinking planet was turning into the monstrous siphon that it truly was, and he felt Anne’s grip grow tighter around his torso. He turned and kissed her frozen face before laughing at the grit left behind on the shiny, reflective surfaces on her cheeks.
A small correction with a planetoid, and their final course was set. They would be inside the vortex in minutes. Since they were essentially on autopilot now, he thought he would have some fun with the fish-heads.
He rubbed his wings together and the fish-heads fanned out, clawing at the blackness in swimming motions that did nothing to fix their wayward trajectories. Lucifer chuckled as he watched them panic. Nothing to worry about, though. He’d catch them after they were sucked into the event horizon.
He turned around and hugged Anne and extended his wings behind him as feelers for the rotating plates of heavier elements that formed in these types of stable vortices over millions of years. He kept an eye on the critters and patted a few of them into a tighter circle around him. They frantically paddled their way toward him but found no traction.
A slight tug and the hint of an atmosphere signaled their arrival in the vortex. He kept Anne close to his chest and turned around to see where he was going. The faint scarlet glow illuminated large rocks and a wide strip of slowly gyrating plates.
He grabbed the fish-heads with his tendrils and launched them at the only solid earth they’d be treading on for five months. As they came closer, the atmosphere thickened, and talking was once again possible.
“You look terrible,” Anne said as she used the inside of her sleeve to wipe away the grime on his face.
“You’re not so bad, yourself.” He said as he grasped a mountain on one of the revolving plates and pulled them to it.
She pointed above them. “You missed one.”
“Sorry, Sal,” Lucifer said.
He yanked on the critter and Sal released a string of expletives.
“No more spinning,” Sal spat. “I’m not a garment in the wash!”
Lucifer laughed as he retrieved Sal and rubbed his knuckles across the fish-head’s rough scalp.
“Knock it off, cretin!”
Lucifer pushed Anne to his back again and wing-walked across the plate surface. He leapt over a mountain range and caught sight of an open plain—a perfect place to set up for the night. Just as he was about to dig his wings into the ground to propel them toward it, Anne pulled him downward by the ear, and his wings flailed around him.
Below him, approaching far too quickly, was a body of water. He felt Anne kick off of him just before he made contact with the lake. As he skidded across the lakebed, he was reminded of a chimney in Arnessa—their first date.
He surfaced, and she splashed him in the face. He dunked her, and as her head disappeared under the water, he was distracted by a high pitched squeal from the top of the mountains.
The fish-heads had apparently caught sight of the water as well. Dozens of them poured down the mountain, hands above their heads, giggling like schoolgirls.
Anne came back up for air just as the first newcomers splashed into the water. She wrapped her legs around Lucifer’s back, and as she rubbed against him, he realized she wasn’t wearing any clothing.
“You elves and your nakedness!” he said, kissing her lips.
She slicked her hair back, unfastened his pants, and pushed them down with her feet. “Please tell me you’re not complaining.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
A few of the fish-heads surfaced near them.
“Hey, hey,” Anne said. “You three find your own show.”
Angels soared over them, carrying their own critters and paying no heed to the lake below. Meanwhile, Anne and Lucifer disturbed the water around them. He nibbled on her neck, inciting an occasional giggle between her soft moans.
They swam against a rock at the center of the lake and rolled onto an outcropping. Their naked skin dried in the sulfuric air, and Anne rested her head against his chest.
“You think he’ll be there?” Anne asked.
“I’m not sure how I feel about you bringing up Batarel, considering what we just did.”
She laughed and nuzzled into him. “Fine, how about something more on topic, then. If we have a son, I want him to be named Christian.”