Hell's Pawn (21 page)

R immon’s shirt had disappeared in the strange way that all clothes here were ideas rather than objects. I n J ohn’s imagination, O siris would take a great curved knife and cut open the demon’s chest, or perhaps claw into the flesh with his bare hand and remove a spasming heart. I nstead the green-skinned god placed the palm of his hand against R immon’s maroon chest. The contrast in hues was beautiful before R immon gasped in surprise.

O siris slowly withdrew his hand, and out from R immon’s chest came a crystal, pulsing with rose-colored light. The heart resembled a gigantic snowflake, rounded out in three dimensions instead of being flat, but it wasn’t cold. The heart’s warmth could be felt throughout the entire room, radiating with the heat that always accompanied life.

As the final outstretching arm of the crystal slipped from R immon’s chest, the demon’s body collapsed to the floor. The red skin faded to pink before becoming transparent, the edges of the body fuzzing and losing definition like a chalk drawing in the rain. J ohn had the terrible revelation that the body, much like their clothing, was nothing more than an idea, a memory to be held on to lest it fade away. How much longer until the incubus disappeared entirely, until he was forgotten?

Helplessness ate at J ohn as he tore his eyes away. Already O siris had placed the heart on one of the scale’s golden plates. Ammit was at his feet, drooling uncontrollably in anticipation of its meal. J ohn wouldn’t allow it. He would grab the alligator jaws so they couldn’t close down on R immon’s heart. His fingers might be pierced by those sharp teeth, but his blood would choke the beast before he ever let its mouth close. J ohn stepped forward in anticipation, his own teeth clenched painfully together, when a short but loud squeak echoed in the chamber. The scales had shifted.

“I’ll be damned!” Dante exclaimed.

J ohn looked up. The plate with the feather had sunk lower. I t might only have been a fraction of an inch, but it was lower.

“J udgment has been passed.” The look on O siris’ face was slightly puzzled, but not at all displeased.

J ohn’s joy disappeared when he noticed R immon’s flickering body. The demon didn’t have much longer. J ohn rushed the altar, heedless of the shouted warnings as his hands wrapped around the crystalline heart.

The moment J ohn’s fingers touched the heart’s surface, he knew R immon. Neither his memories, nor the details of his life, but his essence. The warmth flowed through him, filling every inch of his body. He knew then the demon was good, that he could be trusted, that he had never willfully wronged someone. R immon was noble and honest, and yet there was so much of him that was lonely and torn between who he was and what others wanted him to be. And the hunger, the constant desire for sex and intimacy. J ohn inhaled all of this. He could smell R immon around him, taste the pomegranate flavor of his kisses. The feeling was like their first night together but a hundred-fold stronger. J ohn was both filled with and surrounded by the incubus, possessed by him in a way that Dante could never be.

The sensation ebbed away as his hands parted. He gasped in surprise, finding himself kneeling on the floor over R immon’s body. The heart floated gracefully down, rejoining its host. The body became solid again. Rimmon’s eyes fluttered open, turning at once to seek John’s.

Did he know? Had he felt it too? The essence had fled from J ohn, everything of R immon now back where it belonged, but something remained. The intimate comfort that came with being with someone for a long time, of knowing who the other person was, even if the full story of his life hadn’t yet been revealed. J ohn had touched his incubus heart and been burnt by its love. B ut if R immon had come close to J ohn in a similar way, the demon’s eyes betrayed nothing as they broke contact.

Chapter Ten

The world outside the mosaic door was Egypt as it had never been seen before.

L uscious green grass carpeted the gentle hills, each rise cresting with a fine crease at the top before sloping downward again in the manner of all sand dunes. P yramids populated these hills, each a different color. J ade, onyx, ruby, sapphire—the great bricks were hewn from impossibly large precious stones. I n the distance were four great sphinxes in cross formation, their backs turned to the powerful geyser fountain in their center. The water rained down and pooled around their massive paws. C hildren laughed as they splashed each other in the fountain, the adults among them distinguishable only in size as they joined in the revelry.

“I had such hopes. Despite the beauty of Nut my heart yearns for something different.” The voice of O siris was sad, his dark eyes fixed on the star-swept sky. “You have either deceived me, or you were mistaken about what you saw.” J ohn needed a moment to understand what he was talking about. “M y neck is still sunburned,” he said, half turning so the god could see. “I saw the sun beneath the ground.”

O siris sighed. “Perhaps the same reason that compelled R a to leave us continues to keep him away, for I don’t believe there is any being who could impede him against his will.”

“How long has it been?” Rimmon asked.

“Weeks, months, an eternity. The passage of time means nothing without night and day to gauge it by.” O siris still searched the horizon, not having given up hope. “Do not tell the others what you have seen. It will only turn them against you.” They were led to the largest of the pyramids, the light of the moon playing along its diamond surface. The pyramids J ohn had seen on television were always silent, the decaying bodies of giants, but here throngs of people crowded the pyramid’s base.

M any were on their knees, bowing and chanting prayers. O thers were delivering food or fulfilling other duties.

Navigating the crowd would have been difficult had O siris not been leading them.

People moved willingly out of his way, their eyes filled with love and admiration for the god who walked among them. J ohn and his companions were as good as invisible, weeds growing next to the most beautiful rose in the garden.

The interior of the pyramid also defied expectation. No passage was dark or dusty, nor was there a mummy or sarcophagus in sight. The outer areas of the pyramid were illuminated by light filtering through the diamond bricks. Further in, golden bowls blazing with pure white fire hung from the ceiling at regular intervals. The crowds thinned as they journeyed deep into the pyramid’s interior; only the occasional priest in decorative robes crossing their path.

Here in the pyramid’s inner sanctum, a number of cats made their home. The felines were everywhere, lounging in fur-lined beds, lurking at the tops of shelves, or peering out of small cat-sized tunnels in the wall. W hen they saw a priest respectfully step aside to allow a cat to pass, it became clear that the cats were treated as royalty.

B olo was terribly tempted by all he saw. J ohn said his name in warning tones, the poor dog whimpering and fighting to obey against his instincts. E ventually overcome, B olo broke rank, racing toward a S iamese cat carrying a ki en in its mouth. The feline obviously hadn’t seen a natural predator in many centuries, for it simply stared in wonder instead of fleeing.

“B olo, no!” J ohn cried out, wishing desperately for a leash. His arm almost jerked out of its socket as the leash went taut, B olo’s front paws airborne momentarily as he was yanked backward.

J ohn stared. He would have let go of the leash he was now holding had it not been wrapped tightly around his hand, just as he had envisioned. The leash matched the one belonging to his childhood dog, even down to the same worn leather. I f he checked the matching collar on B olo’s neck, J ohn wouldn’t be at all surprised to find the name “Dipsy” stamped into the rawhide.

“Nice one,” Dante said, producing a lit cigare e from thin air. “I knew you’d get the hang of it eventually.”

J ohn felt as though he had performed a miracle, but Dante had already lost interest and R immon appeared amused. J ohn wished he had more time to experiment. W hat else could he create? What else did he need?

The chamber O siris led them to might have been large, but the treasure, art, and servants that filled every available space made it appear small. Two mammoth statues of pharaohs sat stiffly at the far end of the room, their heads touching the ceiling.

B etween them was a throne, occupied by a skinny man whose lazy posture was the opposite of the statues’.

The court was filled with gods. W ith only a few exceptions, each had the head of an animal. R eptilian, canine, and avian eyes all focused on J ohn and his friends as they entered. Human emotions lurked eerily behind each gaze, sly and suspicious rather than the frank honesty of animals. The auras of each god reached toward J ohn, overwhelming him with names and histories, so he turned his a ention back toward the man on the throne. His soul didn’t carry the divine presence of the deities assembled before him.

The man’s eyebrows were raised expectantly until O siris formally announced him.

“His majesty Pharaoh Den, the embodiment of Ra.”

E very being present turned to face the throne before falling on both knees. J ohn followed suit, B olo licking his face excitedly as if this were all just a game.
The
embodiment of R a?
J ohn pondered this as their names were announced. He thought he understood. W hile living, the pharaoh would have been considered the earthly incarnation of the chief god, but in the afterlife there was li le sense to this. I f this man were Ra, would they still be trapped in eternal night?

J ust as everyone else stood again, B olo decided to sit. J ohn held back a chuckle as he was addressed by the pharaoh.

“Your skin is so very pale,” Den said. “O nly once before have I seen one of your kind, from lands far away. I remember feeling surprised that day, to learn that the E gyptian E mpire had borders. I had thought the entire world to be Egypt. Now I find myself equally perplexed to learn that there is another religion.”
T ons of them,
J ohn almost said, but the gods around him shifted. He glanced over at the nearest to meet piercing falcon eyes. Horus, sky god, master of war, and the god of kings. No E gyptian deity was more important, aside from R a, and his powerful thoughts had a presence of their own.

The existence of other religions was no secret to Horus, but the sudden pressure in the room insisted that J ohn humor the pharaoh. For negotiation purposes, he supposed Hell should be acknowledged; P urgatory too, since speaking of an alliance would be impossible otherwise.

“Tell me again,” Den said. “W hat is the name of this place where men are white and dogs are revered in place of cats?”

“Hell,” John said.

“And this man who is red and horned like a goat, where is he from?”

“Also Hell. We come in all colors there.” J ohn thought a moment about history.

“But most devils are white.”

“Ah. Is color indicative of class? Is this goat man your servant?”

“No. R immon is Hell’s ambassador, a native to his pantheon. I only represent the mortal men who travel to his realm in death.” There. L et R immon do all the work this time.

The pharaoh, unabashed at having mistaken an ambassador for a servant, turned his attention to Rimmon. “Were you well treated on your journey here?”

“Of course,” Rimmon said graciously.

“Except for having his heart cut out and thrown on butcher scales,” Dante said. “Not the best way to make new friends.”

“I ’m very sorry to hear that.” Den frowned at the collected gods, who managed to look somewhat ashamed; all but one who had a dark bestial head like a nightmare version of an aardvark. S et’s eyes were furious black spheres with blood-red pupils that glowed with anger. The chaos god seemed to barely restrain his fury at being treated in such a manner. The situation at court was tense, that much was clear.

“No harm was done,” R immon insisted. “Your people have every right to be cautious in these troubled times.”

“Ah, yes,” the pharaoh breathed. “I understand there is a war of some sort? Hm, well, I ’m sure it will sort itself out. Now then, tell me what has transpired on E arth since my death. My name is still revered, I am certain?”

“There isn’t a man in the world who hasn’t heard of the pharaoh,” R immon answered smoothly.

“O f course,” Den looked rather pleased despite his alleged certainty. “I have noticed though, that not as many souls come here as before. Scarcely any at all.” The gods shifted uneasily again, but R immon had an answer ready. “E gyptians live much longer than they once did.”

That much was true, J ohn supposed. They might not worship the old gods anymore, but life expectancy was double if not more than it had once been.

“O f course,” the pharaoh said again. “And have many pyramids been built since my time?”

“I could not count them,” J ohn chimed in, eager to play the game. No one could count what wasn’t there.

“Of course,” came the standard response.

“There’s even a pyramid in far-away land called L as Vegas,” J ohn said, ge ing carried away. “A great beam of light that pierces the sky shoots from its center. E very year millions of people visit to—”

R immon cleared his throat meaningfully just as a delicate bell tinkled from another room.

“Ah!” Den was instantly alert. “You will, of course, join me in my feast?”

“I believe, sire,” O siris stepped forward, “that the lady Nefaru was hoping to dine alone with you tonight.”

“Nefaru! O f course!” The pharaoh’s dinner date must have been special, for in a ma er of seconds he and his serving staff had vanished from the room. An intentional silence fell as his footsteps faded away. Then the atmosphere in the room changed entirely.

“This is how you want us to appear?” S et snarled. “S niveling cowards who answer to a buffoon? L et him stuff his belly before I devour it whole! His feast shall become my own!”

“You would rather our pantheon be known for dissidence among its ranks?” Horus chided. “There is good reason that Den is sitting upon the throne of Ra.”

“Then let us explain our foolishness to our guests,” Thoth suggested, earning his reputation of a god of council and wisdom. The long ibis beak turned toward them. “I n the time of our rule in Egypt, the pharaoh was often considered the embodiment of Horus. This varied over the many centuries, and for one brief period, the pharaoh was associated with the great god Ra. Our dear naïve Den is from this era.”