“Gladly,” Beelzebub answered, flitting up to meet me. “And what difference would your death make? You are nothing, nephilim. Nothing but a speck. Smaller than the smallest of my children, and my children are maggots. With your death, the gate to my prime hell remains unsealed, and this volcano is only one of them. All I must do is reach out, turn the key, open the other gates, and the world will be flooded with my horrors.” He parted his hands, grinning, hovering only feet away from me. “And then, we consume the world.”
Down below, the mouth of the volcano yawned at us, a gaping wound in the landscape. It couldn’t be allowed to stay open, the way that Beelzebub couldn’t be allowed to continue with his insanity. But what the hell could I do on my own? I’d exhausted all my options. Was I supposed to reach out to the Vestments? Not even their greatest armaments could help me. What was I going to do with an armored tank hundreds of feet up in the air? Fall screaming to the earth and go out in a golden blaze, that’s what.
I looked up at the sky, searching the clouds for the high heavens, wondering where they kept their own gates. If I was as crazy as Beelzebub, I could turn my own keys, throw those gates open myself. We wouldn’t even need armies of angels to rock up and stab him. The sheer light of the high heavens alone could be enough to scorch him into cinders, like some all-powerful giant sunbeam. I shuddered, the feathers at the tips of my wings ruffling. A little warmth couldn’t hurt.
But you’d need to be someone with the actual authority to open those gates. At the very least, you’d need to be someone who had a key.
Wait.
“Apollo,” I murmured. “You crazy bastard.”
Beelzebub frowned, then tilted his head at me. “What was that? What are you saying right now? You should be begging for your very life, nephilim.”
“No thanks, man. I don’t beg. It’s not my style.” I cupped my hands together, staring at my palms. Reaching out to the Vestments for the first time in what seemed like ages, I sifted around in the ether, searching for just the right thing to snatch from heaven. “I borrow. Fine. Sometimes, I steal.”
Beelzebub hissed, dark spittle flying from his lips. “What in the hells are you babbling on about?”
His eyes reflected the radiant beam of light between my fingers, a warm, soothing cylinder of divine energy that stretched as long as one of my arms. The light faded once it had delivered my prize from the Vestments. Hot from the oven, too. It was an ornate key, studded with brilliant gems, its shaft gleaming, lustrous, and white. You might even say it was pearly. It was massive, too, the approximate size and weight of a mace.
“No,” Beelzebub croaked, his hands shielding his face. “It can’t be.”
“Buckle up, buttercup.”
I brought the key back over my shoulder, twisted at the hip, then smashed it right into Beelzebub’s face.
He hurtled backwards through the air in a flailing somersault, screaming curses. I smiled at the bloodied key, sending it back up into the heavens, watching it shoot into the air like a bottle rocket, encased in a shaft of golden light. It whistled as it flew, searching for its partner, a lock, somewhere up in the clouds.
“Lucifer, help me,” Beelzebub blubbered, his voice faltering.
From somewhere high up came a monstrous creaking, like great, huge hinges swinging noisily from disuse. A massive gate clanged open. The heavens trembled. The dark of night and the moon itself became awash in golden light, as if the sun had decided to come out and play.
Ah, but Beelzebub and I both knew that it wasn’t the sun.
An immense beam of golden power came blasting past the clouds. I lifted my head to the sky, smiling as heaven’s light washed over me, bathing my skin with its radiance and warmth.
Beelzebub felt it, too. He felt it so intensely that he was screaming at the top of his lungs. The light stripped away his skin, then his flesh, and in mere moments it was his bleached-white skeleton shrieking into the golden sky, his voice still trapped in his body, his essence and his consciousness still lingering long enough to experience every precious, excruciating second of a nuclear-grade divine smiting.
I shut my eyes, and I smiled even harder.
31
Even with my eyes closed I could sense the world returning to normal. The light of heaven was dimming, the sudden downpour of radiance gone as quickly as it had come. I opened my eyes again, not at all surprised to find myself alone in the sky. I glanced down, checking far below for what remained of Beelzebub, but there was nothing.
I’d actually done it. I’d gone and killed one of the Seven.
My hands trembled as I brought myself down through the air in a slow spiral. My descent was a little shaky, half because of the leftover nerves and jitters of what I’d just done. It’d been risky, and dumb, and yet it somehow paid off. The other half was sheer excitement. Beelzebub was dead – and that meant my mother was free again.
Feathers shook loose from my wings as I made a soft landing, and I didn’t even care. Small price to pay for victory. I bent my knees and took myself into a light jog instead of eating the dirt for once. Cool. I didn’t even risk breaking my legs or my face this time. I was getting better at the flying stuff. I couldn’t wait to show off to Mom. God, but I couldn’t wait to tell her about everything, to introduce her to my friends, to show her the beauty of Paradise.
And speaking of beauty, I hadn’t expected to come down and find my mother resting peacefully in what appeared to be an enormous flower. A
