“Aye. There’s a lot of them. As many as there are religions that created them. Though mortals have warred for centuries over the one true religion, they’ve got it wrong. Most religions are real. Belief is the key, and if enough people believe in something, it becomes truth. The heavens and hells of different religions are separate, but equally true, realities called afterworlds. But they normally doona come into contact.”
“Come into contact? Like people can go back and forth from earth to hell or from one hell to another?”
“Nay, mortals can only get into a heaven or hell through death and they canna get back out once they are there. Some Mytheans can go back and forth.”
“What about the demons that are chasing me? Where are they from?”
“Doona know. I doona recognize their type. They could be escaping somehow from a dead religion’s afterworld that has long since been closed off.”
Oh crap. A vision of murderers and thieves attempting to escape hell and overrunning earth made her stomach pitch. “How often does this happen? Shouldn’t somebody be keeping control of this?”
“That’s what the university tries to do.”
“Shouldn’t it be the FBI or something? Scotland Yard?” Wasn’t that what they used over here?
He laughed. “Mortals canna know about this. Anyway, it’s no’ a brute force operation—usually. It’s more of a diplomatic or intellectual one. The university doesn’t teach many classes—it’s more of a research institution that tries to keep a handle on what heavens and hells exist. When necessary, we keep the peace, either through diplomacy with the gods, magic, or the Praesidium.”
“So, if it’s all about belief, are you an immortal in the Praesidium because of your religion?”
“Nay, those of us called immortals are simply those whose bodies won’t deteriorate with age. And we’re damned hard to kill. The title Mythean suits us better than immortal, since we’re all immortal, in one way or another.”
“Everyone at the university?”
“Everyone on earth. It’s no’ easy to snuff out the energy of a soul. Those people who die on earth lose only their physical bodies. Their soul and their consciousness pass on to the next place they believe they’ll go—Christian Heaven or Hell, Valhalla, Elysium, Hades, reincarnation, take your pick. Mytheans are aware of the existence of the heavens and hells, though we spend most of our time on earth.”
“Belief is all it takes?”
“Belief is like a window. It allows people to see the road they need to take to get to the next place. For mortals, earth is just one stop on a very long journey.”
“Then why would someone ever choose hell?”
“Ah, lassie, that’s the beauty of the universe. Just because you believe in heaven and think you’ll end up there doesn’t necessarily mean you will. You’re still subject to the general rules of your religion, though the university still doesn’t know all the details of how that works.”
“That’s a good argument for ascribing to a religion that has no hell, then, isn’t it?”
He grinned and the sight made her catch her breath. “Truer words were never spoken.”
“Were you born a Mythean?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I was made one when I was invited to the Praesidium. When the last of my family died, I…”
“You?” she prodded gently.
He shifted in his seat, clearly debating whether or not to tell her. She wanted to prod him again, but resisted.
“My family was killed before I was made immortal. My mother and sisters—gone to our enemy’s blade in an afternoon. A year later, so was the woman I loved. I...failed them.” His jaw clenched. “When I attacked the army responsible, I dinna intend to come back.”
“You were going to kill yourself?”
“Nay. I expected one of them to handle that job. But none of them were up to the task. Apparently killing that many soldiers in one go impressed Aerten, the Celtic goddess of fate. She granted me a post as an Mythean Guardian.”
“But why would you want to live forever?”
“I dinna. Still doona. But I failed my family. This is a way—” He swallowed hard before continuing. “—to make amends.”
“You must have loved them very much.”
“Aye.”