When he looked up again he said, 'I know the way.'
'I knew you would.'
* * * * *
She dreamt of green trees heavy with scent and brightly colored fruits and streams of diamond-glittering water and yielding, fertile earth beneath her feet, and those feet were like the feet of souls. And she dreamt, too, of a sun's golden light upon her naked body, bathing it in sensual warmth, as she wandered the Garden heaven she had once known. In her dream she knew she was dreaming, but it did not make the turquoise sky any less blue.
The distant soft scuffing of Eligor's approaching footsteps drew her away from her lost, short-lived heaven, pulling her back down into the darkness of reality. She awoke fully, and as frequently happened when she had this dream, the bitterness washed away from her any pleasure she might have derived. She missed that place and the freedom that had gone with it, missed it even more than her equally short life with Lucifer. But it was gone forever and she had vowed that even if all of the seraphim of the Above came on bended knees to beg her to join them she would refuse. The Throne had cast her away and here she would stay. She knew this was nothing more than an idle fantasy; her anger, wreaked quite purposefully on the souls, had lasted a dozen of their generations—a moment really in the Above, but it had been enough.
Lilith rose from the hard bench, her skin robes falling in some disarray, and stretched unselfconsciously. But as he came closer she could see Eligor's eyes avert, and she quickly covered herself. She often forgot the effect she had on those around her.
A sound from behind the thick door of Sargatanas' shrine caught her attention and she nodded to Eligor, who, apparently, had not heard it; his eyesight, so keen when he was airborne, was far better than his average hearing. Lilith watched him step close to the door and press his ear to it. She smiled, for each tiny sound from within confirmed her certitude that he was within.
Eligor pulled away from the door and shrugged.
'My lady, I beg your forgiveness that I did not tell you immediately that he was here. You were wise to understand him so well.'
'He doubts himself, Eligor,' Lilith said. 'And now he has lost his one true friend. This is where he would have to come.'
'Only a handful of us know of the Shrine. I should have—'
Lilith put a sharp-nailed finger to her lips.
'He is repeating the same phrases over and over,' she whispered. 'He has been doing that since you left me here. I cannot make out what he is saying, but it is as if he were praying. In the old language, no less.'
'No, you must be mistaken. It is forbidden. Even he would not ...'
'He, especially, would.'
Eligor smiled and then said, 'We are, indeed, in a new world.'
A low keening moan could be heard, loud enough even for Eligor to discern. The pain, more like something that might spring from the throat of an animal, was unmistakable.
Lilith sucked in her breath.
And then the floor trembled.
Eligor and Lilith looked at the heavy stones beneath their feet and then at each other and the bewilderment was clearly written upon their faces, but be-fore they could speak they felt another, heavier tremor vibrate under their feet.
A sudden deafening blast like the crashing together of a thousand crystal cymbals accompanied a brilliant flash of purest white light that limned the door of the Shrine from within. Lilith fell to her knees and Eligor staggered, holding himself up with both hands upon the bench. Where the sound abated, the light persisted, and suddenly the broad door, once locked but now seemingly loosened by the tremors, parted slightly, shedding the moving light from within upon the two figures.
Lilith found herself trembling uncontrollably. Shakily she rose to her feet. Something was terribly wrong; a strange light still lingered in the glowing, living embers that danced upon the floor of the Shrine, even as the clangorous echoes of that fantastically powerful peal rang in her ears. Springing forward, concerned only for the well-being of his lord, Eligor pushed the door open and entered the Shrine. As they made their way hurriedly deeper into the chamber the only sound that met their ears was the now-diminishing sizzle of the embers. Both gasped as they came upon the inert form of Sargatanas lying beneath the frieze of the Throne, dotted in hundreds of dissolving specks of light.
Eligor and Lilith stood over him, dumbstruck, for he was entirely white, from spiked head to shod toe. Every detail of his demonic form, every spine, every armored scute, every fold of his flesh, and even his robes stood out in pale relief, all of him the white of bone, the white of fangs—the white of a seraph from Above. And when they called his name and he did not move they both knelt and turned him over and saw, each with a shiver, that his open and pleading eyes were no longer smoked silver from the Fall but had gained their former rich copper hue.
Sargatanas' body jerked spasmodically. He blinked and then reached out slowly, clutching at Eligor's robes.
With his eyes unfocused and his voice echoing of bells, he said, 'They answered me.'
Chapter Twenty-Five
ADAMANTINARX-UPON-THE-ACHERON
As she walked its streets, Lilith sensed that the once-ordered streets of Adamantinarx were awash in a tide of rumor and unease. The slow-flowing Acheron seemed to mock the city with its steady, unchanging currents, sharp contrast to the endless hasty stream of newfound allies that now threatened to overwhelm the palace.
Algol had risen and set many times since Sargatanas' change. In that time, Zoray and Eligor had had their hands full balancing the affairs of a growing court while dispelling the incredible rumors that began to circulate
