Semyazah looks at me but talks to Mammon.
“This is who butchered you?”
Mammon nods.
“I’m afraid so.”
I hold out my hand to Semyazah.
“Shake my hand, General,” I say.
He looks at me like it’s the last thing he wants to do.
“I’m not asking you to be roommates, but I’ve come a long way to see you. It’s the least you could do.”
He lifts his hand slowly and puts it in mine. It has weight and mass. I can feel it.
“Mammon was telling the truth. They stuck you in here alive.”
“And they took great delight in watching me go.”
“I know the feeling.”
We’re both looking at Mammon, who looks right back at us.
“Rumor is you’re not a fan of Mason Faim. How would you like your legions back and a chance to stop Mason’s war from destroying your world?”
He straightens and squares his shoulders.
“Our war with Heaven was just. It was for the worthy cause of releasing angels from our existence as slaves. Mason Faim’s war is pure vanity. He’s used that and fear to gather the generals who’ve fallen in with him. I want no part of it and I believe that other generals agree with me but are too frightened to say so. As you see from my circumstances, public disagreement has a high price.”
“So you’d like to stop him.”
“Very much.”
“Good. Then let’s get you out of here.”
I didn’t realize how hard I’d been concentrating on Semyazah until the conversation stopped. Talking to another living being was like being sucked into a different whirlpool of light down here. When I look around we’re surrounded by souls. I recognize a lot of them. Most at the front are military men and women I killed. Azazel, my old slave master, the Hellion who made me into a killer, is there. Beelzebub. Amon. Marchosias. Valefor. Maybe a dozen others. There are members of Hell’s nouveau riche in ghost furs and jewels. Beyond them are rows and rows of other Hellions and human souls. More than a hundred. I’ve never seen them in one place before. I had no idea I’d killed so many down here. They press in from all sides, trying to crush me. But Tartarus has reduced them to empty spirits with no substance. Shadows on panes of glass. I manifest the Gladius for a second and they stumble back, leaving a no-man’s-land around me.
“What a lovely trick. If I’d known you could do that, I wouldnheiI would019;t have bothered giving you the key,” says Azazel.
“How’s retirement treating you, boss?”
Azazel is the Hellion general who put the key to the Room of Thirteen Doors in my chest. I used it to move around Hell and kill for him. I slit his throat before he had a chance to ask for it back.
“I wondered if I’d ever see you down here someday, and here we are. Reunited at last.”
“Don’t get too choked up. I walked in on my own.”
“I showed you your power. I made you what you are,” he says. “You could show a little gratitude.”
“I could have tortured you to death, but I killed you quick.”
Semyazah’s eyes narrow.
“You came into Tartarus voluntarily. Why?”
“To get you.” I glance at the crowd. It’s still packed with dead generals. I speak louder so they can all hear. “I’ve got good news and bad news for you. The good news is that you won’t have to suffer down here much longer. The bad news is that Mason Faim is going to burn the universe to the ground. He doesn’t care about Heaven. He just wants the high ground for his attack. And he’s probably going to do it in the next few hours.”