Light My Fire
Page 72
“Why?” I wailed, hot tears forming in my eyes. My life was falling apart bit by bit, and I felt completely out of control, unable to fix the problems that tormented me. “I’ve been a demon lord since the day you met me.”
“Yes, but that was with Jim,” she answered waving a hand toward it. “Jim is a sixth-class demon.”
“What on earth does that mean? Everyone keeps saying it, but I have no idea what a sixth-class demon is.”
Nora straightened up, giving me a chastising look. “You have not been reading the texts I gave you.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit busy, what with the imps after me, and the red dragons skewering me, and being kidnapped and poisoned and all.”
“A sixth-class demon is the lesser of all demonkin,” she said in a lecturing tone of voice. “They are Fallen.”
I rallied my tired brain to focus on what she was saying. “Fallen as in ... angels?”
“Not exactly, but it will do as a generalization.”
I looked at Jim. “You’re a fallen angel?”
To my surprise, it looked chagrined. “I was never an angel. Just a minor sprite, servant to a muse. A really cranky muse with absolutely no sense of humor who got me damned and sent to Abaddon. You think organized crime is tough—it’s nothing compared to muses.”
“You’re a fallen sprite?” I asked, my mind muzzy and slow.
“Yeah, but don’t let that give you any ideas. I was a bad-boy sprite, feared by all.”
“OK.” I turned back to Nora. “So Jim is a fallen semi-angel like thing. I can accept that, because I’ve never felt anything truly evil in it. But, Nora, you know me—I’m not bad, either!”
“You are proscribed,” she said simply, her eyes on mine. “You used the dark power.”
I pushed myself off the bench, taking a step toward her. She braced herself as if expecting a blow. “Barely! And the first time without knowing what it was. I swear to you now, swear before everyone here, that I will never use it again.”
“I’m sorry, Aisling.” She glanced at Drake and Pal for a moment. “I’m really very sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”
I begged, pleaded, and tried reasoning with her for two hours, but with no success. I even followed her into her room as she packed up her few belongings.
“Aisling, please—you are distressing yourself for no good purpose. I cannot change my feelings on this.”
“But if I promise—oh, what is it, Pal?”
Pal held out a phone to me. “Call from Paris.”
“It must be Amelie. I’m not through making a case yet,” I told Nora as I left her room.
“It will do you no good,” was all she said in response.
“Amelie? Hi. What’s up?”
“Aisling, I wanted to be the one to tell you ... today is the day the L’au-dela votes on Venediger, since no suitable candidates have come forward. I am afraid that you will be elected, my friend.”
I sighed and slumped wearily against the wall. “I’d refuse, except it turns out that Peter Burke is worse than we thought.”
“He is a demon, then?” Amelie asked.
“No. He’s Bael.”
Amelie swore. “Mon dieu, how could that be? Why did no one recognize him for what he was?”
“Evidently one of the perks of being the premiere prince of Abaddon is that you can work up a detection-proof disguise. What am I going to do, Amelie? I can’t be Venediger. Things . .. well, things have happened that I can’t go into now.”
“I wish I had an answer; I truly do. But the L’au-dela is in uproar now, and someone must step forward before another such as Bael takes control. We are all extremely vulnerable until someone does.”
The air before me shimmered a moment, then Traci the demon stepped out.
“I apologize for interrupting, but there are some pressing things for you to sign dealing with the patch out in two days,” it murmured obsequiously, handing me a clipboard and pen.
I stared at in it bewilderment for a moment, quickly scanning the papers. They were all straightforward business-type things, dealing with the release of a new (bug-riddled) patch to the latest version of operating software.
“Aisling? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” A thought appeared to me, a thought so bizarre, I almost discounted it. But deranged as it was ...
“Can I nominate someone to take charge as Venediger in my stead?” I asked Amelie. “Kind of as a deputy? Someone who would be responsible to me, but do the job on his own until a real Venediger candidate comes forward?”
She was silent a moment. “Yes, so long as you are ultimately responsible.”
Traci gave me a pointed look. “There are only four forms. You could sign them in just a few seconds, my lord.”
“Then you can tell everyone there that I will offer someone to act in my name, someone who is bound to me. His name is Traci.”
“Traci? This is a man?”
I smiled at the look of surprise on the demon’s face. “No, this is a demon. My steward, as a matter of fact. It’s too long of a story to go into right now, but you can tell everyone that my deputy for the position of Venediger is Traci.”
“But.. . but. ..” Amelie sputtered a few phrases in French. “Aisling, you cannot place a demon in position as Venediger!”
“Yeah, it’s an abomination, right?”
“Oui! Of the most major sort!”
“Excellent.” I signed the forms and covered the mouthpiece to tell Traci, “I’ll want to talk to you tomorrow about a little project I have for you in Paris.”
“I shall wait in anticipation,” it answered, looking appalled as its form disappeared into nothing.
“Excellent? You would put a monster of the dark powers in charge of the L’au-dela, and you say this is excellent!” Amelie all but shrieked at me.
I couldn’t help a little chuckle. “Yeah. It’s so bad, everyone there will be scrambling to get a new, proper Venediger, won’t they?”
“Oooh.” She thought about that for a minute. “Yes, but I do not like it.”
“Well, neither do I, but it’s the only solution I have. Hopefully this will get everyone off their collective duffs and working on getting a real Venediger in place. I’ve got to go—there’s a bit of trouble here and I need to talk to Nora. Love to you and Cecile.”
“Yes, but that was with Jim,” she answered waving a hand toward it. “Jim is a sixth-class demon.”
“What on earth does that mean? Everyone keeps saying it, but I have no idea what a sixth-class demon is.”
Nora straightened up, giving me a chastising look. “You have not been reading the texts I gave you.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit busy, what with the imps after me, and the red dragons skewering me, and being kidnapped and poisoned and all.”
“A sixth-class demon is the lesser of all demonkin,” she said in a lecturing tone of voice. “They are Fallen.”
I rallied my tired brain to focus on what she was saying. “Fallen as in ... angels?”
“Not exactly, but it will do as a generalization.”
I looked at Jim. “You’re a fallen angel?”
To my surprise, it looked chagrined. “I was never an angel. Just a minor sprite, servant to a muse. A really cranky muse with absolutely no sense of humor who got me damned and sent to Abaddon. You think organized crime is tough—it’s nothing compared to muses.”
“You’re a fallen sprite?” I asked, my mind muzzy and slow.
“Yeah, but don’t let that give you any ideas. I was a bad-boy sprite, feared by all.”
“OK.” I turned back to Nora. “So Jim is a fallen semi-angel like thing. I can accept that, because I’ve never felt anything truly evil in it. But, Nora, you know me—I’m not bad, either!”
“You are proscribed,” she said simply, her eyes on mine. “You used the dark power.”
I pushed myself off the bench, taking a step toward her. She braced herself as if expecting a blow. “Barely! And the first time without knowing what it was. I swear to you now, swear before everyone here, that I will never use it again.”
“I’m sorry, Aisling.” She glanced at Drake and Pal for a moment. “I’m really very sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”
I begged, pleaded, and tried reasoning with her for two hours, but with no success. I even followed her into her room as she packed up her few belongings.
“Aisling, please—you are distressing yourself for no good purpose. I cannot change my feelings on this.”
“But if I promise—oh, what is it, Pal?”
Pal held out a phone to me. “Call from Paris.”
“It must be Amelie. I’m not through making a case yet,” I told Nora as I left her room.
“It will do you no good,” was all she said in response.
“Amelie? Hi. What’s up?”
“Aisling, I wanted to be the one to tell you ... today is the day the L’au-dela votes on Venediger, since no suitable candidates have come forward. I am afraid that you will be elected, my friend.”
I sighed and slumped wearily against the wall. “I’d refuse, except it turns out that Peter Burke is worse than we thought.”
“He is a demon, then?” Amelie asked.
“No. He’s Bael.”
Amelie swore. “Mon dieu, how could that be? Why did no one recognize him for what he was?”
“Evidently one of the perks of being the premiere prince of Abaddon is that you can work up a detection-proof disguise. What am I going to do, Amelie? I can’t be Venediger. Things . .. well, things have happened that I can’t go into now.”
“I wish I had an answer; I truly do. But the L’au-dela is in uproar now, and someone must step forward before another such as Bael takes control. We are all extremely vulnerable until someone does.”
The air before me shimmered a moment, then Traci the demon stepped out.
“I apologize for interrupting, but there are some pressing things for you to sign dealing with the patch out in two days,” it murmured obsequiously, handing me a clipboard and pen.
I stared at in it bewilderment for a moment, quickly scanning the papers. They were all straightforward business-type things, dealing with the release of a new (bug-riddled) patch to the latest version of operating software.
“Aisling? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Hang on a sec.” A thought appeared to me, a thought so bizarre, I almost discounted it. But deranged as it was ...
“Can I nominate someone to take charge as Venediger in my stead?” I asked Amelie. “Kind of as a deputy? Someone who would be responsible to me, but do the job on his own until a real Venediger candidate comes forward?”
She was silent a moment. “Yes, so long as you are ultimately responsible.”
Traci gave me a pointed look. “There are only four forms. You could sign them in just a few seconds, my lord.”
“Then you can tell everyone there that I will offer someone to act in my name, someone who is bound to me. His name is Traci.”
“Traci? This is a man?”
I smiled at the look of surprise on the demon’s face. “No, this is a demon. My steward, as a matter of fact. It’s too long of a story to go into right now, but you can tell everyone that my deputy for the position of Venediger is Traci.”
“But.. . but. ..” Amelie sputtered a few phrases in French. “Aisling, you cannot place a demon in position as Venediger!”
“Yeah, it’s an abomination, right?”
“Oui! Of the most major sort!”
“Excellent.” I signed the forms and covered the mouthpiece to tell Traci, “I’ll want to talk to you tomorrow about a little project I have for you in Paris.”
“I shall wait in anticipation,” it answered, looking appalled as its form disappeared into nothing.
“Excellent? You would put a monster of the dark powers in charge of the L’au-dela, and you say this is excellent!” Amelie all but shrieked at me.
I couldn’t help a little chuckle. “Yeah. It’s so bad, everyone there will be scrambling to get a new, proper Venediger, won’t they?”
“Oooh.” She thought about that for a minute. “Yes, but I do not like it.”
“Well, neither do I, but it’s the only solution I have. Hopefully this will get everyone off their collective duffs and working on getting a real Venediger in place. I’ve got to go—there’s a bit of trouble here and I need to talk to Nora. Love to you and Cecile.”
