Prospero in Hell (12 page)

“Tell me.”

“What we seek from the Dread Magician Prospero is the secret of unbinding our more unfortunate brethren.”

“Unbinding who?”

“Our fellows whom Prospero bound. We cannot free them, and he will not tell us how to accomplish it.”

“What brethren of yours has Father bound? You mean someone in there?” I gestured toward the Elemental Chamber.

“How innocent you are.” The incubus wet his black lips with a scarlet tongue. I raised the flute again. “Ah, yes. Well… perhaps, I should start at the beginning… .

“During King Solomon’s reign, he lost his throne to the great devil Asmodeus for a space of three years, during which Asmodeus impersonated the wise king and performed many blasphemies in his name.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that,” I replied. “Asmodeus stole his ring, and Solomon had to get it back before he could reclaim his kingdom. Meanwhile, Asmodeus built temples to devils and false gods in Solomon’s name.”

“Exactly so.” Seir smiled. “You are so wise, my Incomparable. What is known only to a few is this: After King Solomon regained his ring, he did not return immediately to his throne. Instead, he descended into Hell, claiming to be Asmodeus. Since it was known that Asmodeus was impersonating Solomon, this subterfuge succeeded, for we demons did not expect a mortal to walk willingly into the maw of the Inferno.

“Posing as the Great King Asmodeus, one of the Seven Rulers of Hell, Solomon called up all manner of wicked spirits and used his unaccursed ring to compel them to swear allegiance to him and to cease acting in accordance with their wicked nature. Once this was done, Solomon moved among the demons themselves, tricking nine of the greatest lords, those known for doing the most harm to mortal men, into his service.

“Solomon then smuggled these nine great demons out of Hell and bound them into nine scrolls. He put these scrolls into the keeping of a secret society created to watch and guard them, a living ward that he called his Circle.”

“The
Orbis Suleimani,
” I murmured. “The Circle of Solomon.”

“We Infernal Ones eventually discovered the whereabouts of the missing lords. With our help, they nearly escaped, but the Circle of Solomon, the
Orbis Suleimani,
as you call them, discovered our attempt and bound the demon lords anew into great tomes.

“Solomon’s heirs were vigilant, but where mortals are concerned, time is always on our side. We never grow bored or tire of our efforts to corrupt—just as I will never grow bored or tire of you, once you yield to my enticements. The very foundations of the Earth will shake from the fervor of our passion. Stars will collide and a new constellation will be born to celebrate the pleasure of our union.”

“Shall I blow him to Kingdom Come? Not a pleasant place for demons, I hear,” asked Caurus, holding his hornpipe just before his lips. Apparently,
he felt there was something he could do down here, despite Seir’s claims otherwise.

“If he doesn’t get back to the point, be my guest,” I replied grimly.

“We worked our influence upon Solomon’s heirs,” Seir continued, smiling graciously. “The
Orbis Suleimani
grew vain and corrupt. They began listening to the whispering of the tomes, to accept gifts the trapped demons offered, thus loosening the bonds binding the great lords of Hell.

“After centuries of waiting, our patience was rewarded. Two brothers came along who were ideal for our purposes. One was petty and power-hungry, the other obsessed with the pursuit of dangerous knowledge. The trapped Lords of Hell offered them gifts. Great King Paimon offered power over the minds of men, while King Vinae offered wisdom and secrets no mortal knew. When the brothers accepted, the demon lords began to describe the greater gifts that they could grant to the brothers, if the binding trapping the demons were released.

“All was in readiness. The day of release had been agreed upon and was approaching. The brothers were showered with gifts. Arcane secrets unknown to any other human were made known to them.”

Seir paused here, his scarlet eyes glittering.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Treachery. One of the brothers betrayed us. He stole the tomes and fled.”

My heart thumped oddly in my chest. An
Orbis Suleimani
member who stole great books of magic and fled? That sounded uncomfortably familiar. Unbidden, the memory rose of Uncle Antonio upon the battlefield in Milan, clad in his splendid armor, accusing Father of having stolen tomes of power from the
Orbis Suleimani
.

Could the pair of wicked brothers Seir spoke of have been Uncle Antonio and Father? If so, despite Father’s equivocal comment to me about which one of the two of them—Antonio or himself—would be more likely to take what was not his, Father must have been the brother who fled with the books.

If so, what caused his change of heart? Why had he decided not to go through with freeing the demons?

I recalled warm nights upon the bluffs of Prospero’s Island during which my father had spoken of his great love for my mother and how it had altered the course of his life. Could my mother’s love have caused him to break faith with the demons? That was a lovely thought indeed, one that lived up to all my childhood ideals about my parents’ marriage.

And what of these demon tomes? Were they the books of magic I remembered from my childhood?

Cold fingers of dread touched my spine. “These books… back on St. Thomas, you claimed Father transformed them into…” I looked at my flute.

“Into staffs,” purred the incubus.

“Merciful Heavens!” I whispered in Italian.

“Exactly, Sweetest darling. Staffs such as the one you hold in your hand, which, unless I am mistaken, is the aforementioned Great King Vinae himself.” Leaning toward the flute, Seir called. “Greetings, old friend, or should I say, old adversary? For what demon is friend to another, we who strive constantly against each other, seeking each to better his own position in our infernal home?”

“What a horrible way to live,” Caurus murmured.

I stared at my flute, repulsed by the very instrument that, until this moment, had been so dear to me.

Could this be the secret Baelor had hinted at, the cause of my family’s destruction? I recalled his inhuman voice:
I know
. . .
why Theophrastus’s wrath leads him to embrace death, and Titus grows too slothful to maintain his vigil; why Logistilla is consumed by envy, while despair gnaws upon the innards of the once-proud sorcerer
.

Suddenly, I remembered our victory celebration at the
Hound and Eagle
after our successful raid on the Vatican when we stole the magic that had been collected by the popes of old. Fierce Titus, who carried the
Staff of Silence,
was unusually reticent that night, a quality that grew in him in ensuing years until sloth became his ruling vice. Good-natured Theo, whose staff caused devastation, provoked a bar fight. Was not wrath one of Theo’s greatest vices, one he retired partially in hopes of overcoming? Mephisto, whose staff summons, found himself irresistible to ladies, a trait that has increased with each passing year. And Father had taken note of all this and frowned.

He knew! Father knew the price we paid for carrying these staffs! Father, who constantly emphasized how our family fought for Heaven and the preservation of Solomon’s legacy; Father, who had written such graphic descriptions of the distortions that exposure to the presence of demons caused to the human soul!

But, if he knew, why did he give us the staffs? Why did he not tell us, warn us? Could it be he, too, had been corrupted by the staff he carried for so many years: the
Staff of Persuasion,
which can alter a man’s mind? Could
the demons finally have succeeded with him in his age, where they had failed in his youth?

If so, why did he now allow himself to be tortured, rather than revealing the method for releasing the demons, which presumably would have allowed the Three Shadowed Ones to free the demon trapped in Gregor’s and Mephisto’s staffs?

Of course, the incubus could be lying… . I stared at the four-foot length of demon-infested wood I had formerly called my beloved flute and shuddered as I wondered what ill effect its proximity had worked upon my soul.

“Milady! The Kings!”

In staring at my flute, I had taken my eyes off the incubus. My head snapped up in time to see Seir bring the butt of the
Staff of Darkness
down upon the brittle lead seal on the copper pot that held the King of Fire.

The ancient lead seal broke with a resounding crack. With a tremendous cry of exultation, the King of Fire rose from the copper jar that had been his prison for nigh unto three thousand years. His coal-black eyes hung in the midst of the mass of flames that made up his body. Heat radiated from him like water cascading over Victoria Falls.

“Iblis al-Shaitan am I, King of Flame! Lord of Djinn! Master of Salamanders! Prince of Efreeti! Look upon me and tremble!” he cried in a great voice.

Seir of the Shadows smiled. “Welcome, your majesty, tarry but a moment while I free your companions.”

Iblis al-Shaitan’s fiery body moved rapidly between Seir and the copper pot containing the Queen of Earth. The intense heat radiating from his body scorched the floor and wall near the djinn to a sooty black and filled the Vault with the smell of burnt paint. The incubus, however, did not seem disturbed. Perhaps he was used to fires hotter still.

“Cease! Their freedom does me no honor. If they are bound, and I am free, I will be the greater. Fire will rule Earth, Water, and Air.” The coal-black eyes shifted amid the flames. “Where is Air?”

“I know not, Great Lord. The pot containing the King of the Air was not here when I arrived,” Seir replied.

“Worship me!” boomed the King of Fire. “Why do you not bow down? Press your face to the floor!”

“Who? Me?” The incubus laughed. “I am no subject of yours, Fire-King. I am Seir, called ‘of the Shadows,’ a Mighty Prince of Hell. I myself govern twenty-six legions of spirits. I bow to none but the Seven Rulers of Iniquity themselves.”

“Bah! The Great Seven.” The flames of his body grew brighter until he
glowed like a stoked furnace, and the air around him wavered from the heat. “I, Iblis al-Shaitan, am mightier than the Lords of Hell. Lucifer himself is but my servant. I was created by the Hand of Allah himself, from a pure and smokeless flame of fire! Into my keeping, he gave all vessels of crude clay who were not faithful to his Law.”

“As you say.” Seir nodded politely. As the King of Fire swept down upon him, he added quickly, “Perhaps you should concern yourself with them.”

And he pointed at us.

Caurus and I had not been idle while the supernatural entities quarreled. Caurus had grabbed the long shield and remaining gauntlet of shining Urim from the stand holding the angel’s armor. Meanwhile, I knew I had to stop Seir before he broke open another seal, and the only means I had at my disposal was the lightning-throwing power of my demon-infested flute. I wanted to draw electricity for the blast from the node nearest to him, to minimize the damage, but as the Elemental Chamber was dark, it took time to figure out where the electrical nodes might be and to direct my flute—or the demon within it—to the correct spot.

As I was peering across the rotunda into the semi-darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of a lightning glyph as the Fire-King’s body illuminated various sections of the wall, Caurus whispered, “Milady, what is your plan?”

“I want to dispense with Seir first,” I whispered back. “Even if I don’t manage to strike him, he will flee. Teleporters are like that.” One had only to say ‘boo’ to Ulysses, and he would be halfway across the continent. “Seir might come back, but at least it should give us a few minutes to deal with the King of Flame.”

“How do we do that?”

“I’m hoping something in the Weapons Chamber will stop him, if I can get over there.”

“I will distract him!” Caurus swung his ice skates from his shoulder and tossed his scarf atop them, then slipped his right arm into the strap at the back of the long Urim shield. Glancing down at his knitted sweater and his large capable hand, he sighed. “I do hope this body does not get damaged beyond repair. I’ve gotten rather fond of it over the years.”

“I as well, Caurus,” I replied with sympathy. “I as well.”