4.3

Alone in his office, Iblis sat trying to digest what had happened. It had been many years since he was threatened, and the last to do so, he had chopped his head off right then and there. A simple swing of his sword. It was a different time. He had a gun now. It rested on his lap, safety off, and ready to be used. but he hadn’t. Hadn’t for reasons unbeknownst to him.

It had nothing to do with her being Lucifer’s Sin Eater. While it was true the Fallen One frightened him, Lucifer knew that Iblis did not take kindly to threats. There had never been a person who did so that lived. And the Sin Eater should not have been an exception. But she had walked out of his office unharmed. Why? Why would he have done so? Her eyes? They had been begging him to help her. To not make her kiss his daughter. There was no doubt, she would have, but she hadn’t wanted to.

Iblis would have loved to believe that was it. “I’m a coward,” he stated aloud, staring at the gun in his hand. He had been terrified of what would happen if he failed to kill Grace. He would have come out and killed everyone in His path, in the most painful way possible. Because that was what He did. Killed, maimed, and destroyed all He set his sights on. He was the Devil, after all.

Once upon a time, before angels and djinn were created, and long before humans were, God and the Devil were one being. Bored of the nothingness He was born into, he split himself into two. Together the brothers decided to create the universe, life, and death. Life and death spread across the universe, and God and the Devil watched them grow.

Soon, the Devil grew bored. He wanted more than just to watch the worlds grow and die. He wanted them to fight, to have conflict. And so he created hate and war. To combat this God created love and peace. It turned into a game, each trying to outdo the other. The Devil, ever one to lose, destroyed a world. And then another. And another. And another until only one remained.

Earth was still a young world, and life was at a primitive stage. This displeased the Devil and he decided to speed up the process. He was disgusted with the results, and sought to end the world. God did his best to protect it, but few survived. This was the final act that drove God to put an end to his other half. Yet, he could not bring himself to kill the Devil. Instead, he was confined to a cage and put into a deep slumber until the key, catalyst, and body were born.

And they had been born. None of them knowing they will help the Devil end the world. Then again, who would really want to know that?

Three sharp knocks at the door. Iblis didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. “You’re actually going to knock this time?”

“I have to keep you on your toes,” Ashtat retorted. She leaned against the door jam, crossing her arms over her small chest. “You wanted me for something?”

Iblis turned to her, taking her in. Her makeup was impeccable, as always. Electric pink lipstick, a gold dusting on her cheeks, and silver on her eyelids. Her wrinkleless black shirt clung to her body, and her black slacks loose with a crease down the middle of each leg. She was just as gorgeous as her mother, and just as prickly. “You always know when I need something. Your mother was the same.”

Ashtat rolled her dark eyes. “You know exactly why.” Magic fluctuates with emotions. Those that use it, can feel those fluctuations within a certain proximity. Ashtat hadn’t been far from her father and could feel his mood easily. The fear, the anger, and the need to see her.

He offered a grim smile. “That was the only thing your mother regretted, giving you that gift.” “Your mother” was all he could bring himself to say. Never her name. That was a festering wound that would never heal. She had not been the first human he loved, but she had been the last he wanted to. The only person, human and not, that had made him only want her. And she was taken from him. If he had not sworn to her he wouldn’t, he would have found the demons that had murdered her and done ten-fold to them.

“It wasn’t like she had a choice. If she didn’t want to pass it down, she shouldn’t have had a kid.” There was no bitterness in Ashtat’s voice, just fact. The magic flowing through her veins was not a curse to her as it had been to her mother. She had accepted her fate, not being able to do anything about it. “What do you need me to do?”

“Use magic,” he said, holding back a bitter laugh. Her mother asked (not made him swear) that he wouldn’t allow Ashtat to use her magic. It was the one thing he could not do for her. Ashtat enjoyed using her magic and he could not bring himself to stop her from doing something that she liked. It wasn’t like she used it constantly. Just whenever need arose.

Ashtat pushed herself away from the door jam and made a “lead the way” gesture. Her face gave none of her emotions away, but for a moment he felt glee from her magic. It had been a while since the last she needed to use it, and was anxious to get back to it. Iblis saw no need in delaying her.

Several minutes and three flights of stairs later, the pair made it to the subbasement. It was a single concrete room that was empty save for a single wooden table dead center- Iblis had taken extra care to ensure it was perfectly centered- emitting a dim light. The only other decoration in the room were thick lines carved into the concrete when it was poured 200 years ago. There were eight in total, starting in the four corners and the walls, and meeting in the center of the room. They were used in certain spells and rituals, but were not needed for this one. Just the table and the map that was carved deeply into the top of the table.

“Wouldn’t this be better if we grabbed a map of the city?” Ashtat asked. The map on the table was one of the world, making it difficult to pinpoint an exact address.

“It would be, but I don’t have one,” Iblis admitted. Not his proudest moment, but he had never believed it would be necessary. This wasn’t something they needed to do every day.

“Who doesn’t have a map of the city?”

Iblis sighed, looking up at his daughter. “Let’s focus on the task at hand.” That was not the first time they had that argument, and it would not be the last. It was Ashtat’s way of poking fun at him for not getting with the times. He just didn’t like some modern technology. Mostly cell phones. They reacted badly to his magic.

Ashtat stood straight, reaching behind her to pull out her pocket knife from her belt. With a flick of her small wrist it opened, its silver blade reflecting in the dim light. Without hesitation, she slashes the palm of her hand. The blade was sharp, and it cut into the flesh with the ease of cutting into a butter. For a second, the wound stood clean before blood rushed out of it. Ashtat muttered under her breath, trying to say the spell as quick as possible.

A thick drop of blood formed on the edge of her palm, before detaching itself and taking the plummet to the table. Mere inches from the table, the drop paused and quivered. Ashtat retrieved her hand, cradling it to her chest. Iblis moved to her side, offering her a handkerchief from his pocket. She held out her injured hand and he wrapped it tightly. The white cloth was soon stained red, but that went unnoticed. All attention was on the shaking red droplet.

As the drop shook, it started to change form. It elongated and thinned, the end forming a point similar to that of a compass. The shaking stopped, and the needle hung in the air in a complete stillness. Then, it shot high into the air, nearly touching the ceiling, only to come back down with just as much speed. It stuck into the wood with a thwack, having hardened on its way down.

Ashtat moved toward the table, still cradling her hand against her chest. “Ready to see what we’re getting ourselves into?”

Iblis joined his daughter, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Only if you’re up to it.” It would take another spell, and she was already pale. Magic took a lot of energy, and losing energy before the spell was complete could be deadly. The last thing he wanted was to lose his daughter. Be it body or mind.

Without hesitation, Ashtat placed her uninjured hand on the hardened blood. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Iblis closed his own eyes as she recited the spell. There was a blinding light and then darkness. When the pair opened their eyes they were no longer in the basement, but an empty field. Long stalks of grass in loose gravel surrounded them, and a broken chainlink fence with three rows of rusted barbed-wire on top. There was an abandoned building several feet in front of them with broken windows and graffiti covering its gray brick. A blood red aura surrounded it. Danger laid within.

“Do you want to go in?” asked Astat, half-joking, half-terrified he would say yes.

Iblis’ hand still sat on his daughter’s slender shoulder. “We have to make sure he’s in there.”

Ashtat sucked air between her teeth, something she did when angered. “My magic doesn’t lie and it doesn’t fail.” Said in a near hiss. Ashtat was very proud of her magic, and the unintentional insult spurred her into moving toward the building. Iblis followed after her, shaking his head.

When they reached the building, Astat flung open the doors, they groaning in protest, and glared into the darkness. The air was stale with the scent of rust and something that made her nose scrunch. It smelled terrible, but not enough to drive them away. It did, however, make them hesitant of going into the building.

They went in all the same, Iblis in the lead. His eyes were keener in the dark than Ashtat’s human ones, though not by much. Enough to see the outlines of objects lying in the floor that could do some damage if tripped over, even if they were not there physically. Their bodies were still in the basement of Desires, Ashtat holding onto the solid blood him gripping her shoulder, it was their spirit that was wandering around the abandoned building. The backlash of the spell was any damage done to the spirit was done to the physical body as well. Even the tiniest of scratches. Being careful was the utmost of importance. Especially Astat. If she couldn’t break the spell, they would be trapped. And if she died, they both died. All the more reason to keep her behind him.

Deeper and deeper they went into the building, until Iblis could no longer see in front of him. On top of that, the smell, a mix of rotting meat and fresh blood, was getting stronger. It was nearly to the point it made him want to gag. Any longer, and he would not be able to keep the contents of his stomach where they were. There was a nagging sensation going with the smell. It was familiar, yet somehow not familiar. He had smelled the scent before, that he was sure of, but it had been so long he could not recall when. The worst part of it was he knew it should be something he remembered easily. No matter what kind of being you  were, time eroded the brain.

“Why did we stop?” Ashtat asked, nearly shouting in his ear.

“Something’s wrong,” he said quieter, hoping she would get the hint. She didn’t.

“Of course, there’s something wrong!” Her voice echoed all around them. “There’s no way in hell Lucifer would be in a place like this willingly!”

That hadn’t been what he meant, but Ashtat was right. Lucifer did weird things, but hiding in an abandoned building was not one of them. This was a trap. It may not have been set for them, but they had walked into it nonetheless. Iblis turned to his daughter. “Ash, break the spell.”

“What?! Why? We haven’t even found Lucifer.”

“Just break the goddamn spell!” He hadn’t meant to shout, but fear drove his volume up. Something moved in the dark. A pattering of feet. Too many feet. He had no trouble recalling where that scent had come from. “Break the spell, Ashtat. Do it now.” His voice was lower now, but the terror unmistakable.

Ashtat swallowed and started to recite the incantation, her mouth dry and tongue heavy. There was more movement from the dark and she closed her eyes, reciting the words faster. Iblis shifted more in front of her, taking a fighting stance. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his breathing steady, not wanting to alarm his daughter. She needed to focus on the spell. Any mispronounced word would cause the spell to backfire, and neither of them wanted that.

Nearly finished with the spell, Ashtat wrapped her arms around Iblis’ torso and buried her face in his back. For a second, Iblis shifted his eyes to his daughter, and the creature attacked. It rushed forward, its many legs thumping against the ground, a hiss from the back of its throat. All the djinni could do was curse himself and step backwards, hoping Ashtat moved with him. She did, almost tripping. The monster took advantage and swiped a claw out at Iblis. The djinni had barely enough time to raise his arm and protect his face from the attack.

Just as another claw struck out the spell broke, leaving both Iblis and Ashtat panting. Then the pain struck Iblis, bringing him down to his knees. “Oh God,” Ashtat cried, bending down with him. “We need to get you upstairs.”

Iblis shook his head, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “I need you to find the Magician.” He didn’t want to rely on the madman, but he was the only person he knew that could take care of such a wound.

“What if he doesn’t come?” Her voice was a perfect blend of worry and fear.

“Tell him a witch attacked me. He’ll come.”

Ashtat’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but nodded and headed out all the same. Iblis watched her retreating back. Once she was gone, he got to his feet and moved to the wall closest to the door. It had taken him all of his remaining energy to do so and he flopped to the floor rather hard, jostling his injured arm. The witch’s poison was already doing what it did best, killing him. “I hope they make it back in time,” he whispered before giving into the blackness of unconsciousness.