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It was jarring.
“Leave us, Malachi,” she said. “Wait outside.”
Malachi nodded, then ducked out of the room leaving me alone with this warlord. I took a few tentative steps inside but stopped short of reaching the desk.
“You’re the angel I’ve heard so much about,” she said after a moment.
I nodded. “I, uh, I want to thank you for rescuing me?—”
“Rescuing you? You’re supposed to be rescuing us.”
I frowned. “I… huh?”
“That is why you’re here, is it not? To free us from this damnation?”
CHAPTER SIX
Istared at the scarred, battle-hardened demon sitting across from me, dumbfounded. What had she just said? Her amber eyes narrowed as she rose from her chair and leaned over the desk toward me, “It is why you’re here, isn’t it?” she asked with in a low, dangerous tone; the softness gone in an instant.
I had to be careful. They had saved my life, but they were still demons. One misstep and I was likely to find myself on the wrong end of a sharp blade, but outright lying to her would undoubtedly end the same way.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I wasn’t sent here to free you.”
She looked me up and down, scrutinizing every inch of my appearance, “But you’re wearing armor, and I’m told you have Light. Why else would you be here if not to free us?”
“I’m really not here to?—”
“Think carefully. The transition could have damaged your memories.”
“But I?—”
The demon slammed her desk with the back of her fist. “Don’t talk, just think! They must have sent you down here with instructions, with a plan of some kind; a way to get us out.”
My jaw tightened and my hackles rose. That outburst had put me on the defensive, and it wasn’t a great way for us to start the conversation. I took a deep breath, then exhaled, hoping she wasn’t mistaking my silence for deep, introspective thought.
“Look,” I said, “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”
“I think the misunderstanding is yours,” she said, shaking her head. “Angels like you don’t just fall into Hell accidentally, so, how did you wind up in the Pit if you weren’t sent?”
“It’s a really long story,” I replied. “But I will tell you, so long as you promise not to stab me if it’s not what you wanted to hear. I really don’t want to be stabbed.”
The demon pulled back, stood upright, and straightened out the tunic under her makeshift armor. Though her countenance remained harsh and demonic, her demeanor softened; the amber fire in her eyes dimmed to a soft glow, and her stance relaxed.
She also made sure to push away the dagger on her desk so that it was out of arms’ reach.
“Let’s start over,” she said. “My name is Missolis… what is your name?”
“Sarakiel,” I said. “And, again, thank you… for saving me.”
Missolis nodded. “We do our best to help those who claw their way out of the Pit. We cannot reach them all, but we do what we can.”
“Malachi told me you rebelled against Hell. That’s… honorable.”
“It isn’t about honor. It’s about survival. We don’t want to become them… what little grace we have, we want to keep. I had hoped that our actions against the legions of Hell had finally been noticed by someone up there, or that our exile had been revoked in the wake of God’s passing…”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “But there’s no one up there anymore—help isn’t coming.”
By her reaction—or lack of—I figured that she already knew what I had just told her, or at least had considered it a possibility. It went some way to explaining her initial insistence and agitation though; my arrival must have felt like a drop of water to a dehydrated, dying man. A single match in perpetual darkness.
