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Gadriel shoved me and made me walk. I was joined by Missolis, Etari, and Kainon who were all also being marched ahead of the rest of the rebels through the temple room. Abaddon’s demons laughed as we filed out, pointing at us, jeering at us. I felt entirely helpless, even if my hands weren’t tied up, there was nothing I could have done; no amount of Light would serve me against so many foes, and even if I could escape, that would mean leaving the others behind, and where even would I go?
My only hope of getting out of Hell was sealed shut.
The demons lead us all out of the temple room, through a corridor, and then out into the giant courtyard we had passed on the way in. The courtyard that had been full of hundreds of training soldiers, but they weren’t training anymore.
Instead, they stood quietly, waiting, arranged in their battalions. As I looked around, I noted hundreds more of them arranged on balconies overlooking the courtyard. All waiting and watching as we were brought in and lined up in front of a wide, raised dais at the far end.
The silence was unnerving—the laughter in the temple room had been obnoxious and humiliating, but it was preferable to the thick tension in the courtyard air. It seemed like they were waiting for us, as if a show was about to begin and we were to be the guests of honor. I looked toward Gadriel for any sort of reassurance her expression might give me and found myself staring at her familiar smirk—only this time it wasn’t lighthearted, there was no knowing smile behind it, just malice.
My heart sank even further.
As soon as they had us all in position, a loud cheer broke out behind us. We were suddenly pushed to our knees and our faces forced into the dirt below. I just managed to turn my head enough to get a look at the demon who had stepped out onto the platform above us.
He was enormous.
He had skin the texture and color of burnt coal—soot black, but gray and flaking off in places. An inner fire glowed through the many cracks in his skin and caused more pieces to burn and flutter off. That same fire could be seen through his hollow eye holes, and around them was the worst of the damage—entire chunks of his cheeks fell away as he moved, only to instantly refill and begin smoldering once more. From his forehead sprung two, gigantic, heavy-looking bull’s horns, with two smaller horns sprouting just beneath them, a pair of wings easily fifteen feet wide opened behind him, and his prehensile tail lashed violently at the floor.
When he spoke, it was with the booming bass of an erupting volcano or the shaking of the Earth itself. And when he spoke, everyone shut up and listened.
It was clear who this demon was.
A towering Overlord who lived up to his reputation.
Abaddon. The first.
“Welcome, rebels,” he roared. “Welcome. How are you enjoying our hospitality so far?”
This earned a round of laughter from the demons assembled. Abaddon raised his hand, and the laughter ceased in an instant.
“Time is short, so I shall make this brief,” he continued. “There will be no flaying today, no murder, no torture. I know this may disappoint most of you, but there is a reason we are all assembled here; all of us, loyalist and traitor alike, brought together under one roof—so to speak.”
Abaddon scanned the crowd. I could’ve sworn his eyes fixed on me. “My glorious subjects, we are about to bear witness to the greatest thing to ever happen to the Kingdom of Hell. Lucky are we who have made it this far, so as to experience the magnificent return of the brightest star in the night sky; a sky that was taken from us so long ago.”
As he spoke, a small pinprick of Light had begun to form behind him. It slowly got bigger and bigger until the circle could be seen from all corners of the courtyard. The demons closest to the dais shielded their eyes, and even Abaddon himself had to move to the side as it grew.
“Today we witness Lucifer’s return to Hell!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Light grew exponentially bigger, until it was no longer just a circle suspended in mid-air, but a shimmering tear that encompassed almost the entire length of the dais. Gadriel grabbed hold of one of my shoulders and warned me to keep still. I had been struggling against my restraints, and she had noticed.
Missolis caught my eye, and with the subtlest of gestures, guided my gaze toward Kainon. He was almost free of his restraints, somehow. One of his hands was fully out of its shackle, and he was working at the other one.
I swallowed hard. If Lucifer was coming, then we needed to get out of there.
“Gadriel,” I whispered. “Please, Gadriel… if it’s you in there?—”
Gadriel slapped me across the back of the head. “I will not tell you again,” she snarled, “that is no longer my name.”
“Hekata… fine. I’m begging you, don’t do this. He’s going to vaporize us.”
“It’s what you deserve.”
“You don’t believe that. I know you don’t believe that.”
“Whatever sniveling, mewling thing you think I am—if that creature ever existed, she is long gone now.”
“You were never that. You were the angel who fought for love, you were sent to this place for love. Love is not a weakness; it is a strength. That makes you one of the strongest angels I have ever known.”
