Uriel: The Inheritance (Airel Saga Book Five)

Chapter XI

Elsewhere

THE KEEP OF THE Damned stood in Sheol high on a little snowy crag surrounded by incisor-like mountains on all sides. Bones were scattered in the yard and jutting through the snow. The house's thatched-roof gables were ornamented by upward-reaching carved gargoyles at their peaks, and the eaves drooped and were anchored to the ground on flying buttresses. A wide stair of stone descended from the great hall to the muddy ground. At the top of the stair, iron-banded double doors of black oak barred the entrance on the terrace. It appeared to be cruciform, a dark church or great hall of kings, its ornamentation and proportion both Scandinavian and Gothic. Pure white snow draped in billowed blankets over the thatch on the roof of the hall and on its stairs, jagged icicles hanging down here and there.

Kreios and Cain approached.

A lone figure, cloaked in red, stood above them upon the terrace, blocking the way into the hall. "Hail, murderer king. What, dost thou now come to the Keep of the Damned, Cain?"

"Ifrit," Cain said, standing tall.

The creature laughed at him.

"Master and ruler of the damned."

Instantly Ifrit disappeared—a wisp, a wraith—and reappeared before Cain at the bottom of the stair. It stooped to whisper into his ear. "Art thou here now at last, my keeper?" Ifrit snarled, and Kreios moved for his sword out of instinct.

Ifrit grabbed Kreios by the neck and pulled him off his feet. "And who are you to come here to the realm of the dead?" he said, wheeling Kreios around. The red cloak flickered and decomposed into ash as the demon cast off its humanoid husk and grew in size.

The demon was colossal, winged in black like the sails of a great ship. One of its arms was the size of Kreios.

Kreios pulled free of the demon's grip and then hovered over him with arms crossed. "There are many legends surrounding the mighty Ifrit. Are they mere folklore and myth, or are you the one whose name men speak in their nightmares?"

Ifrit roared and batted at Kreios, but he stayed just out of reach of the sharp claws that threatened to harm him.

"Who are you, Angel? How dare you speak of me as the one they call the Jinn. I am not a lowly genie. There is only one Ifrit. I was birthed under the sun from the blood of Abel, the first murder victim. The one who slayed that man now stands with you. Speak, or I will kill you quickly."

"Ifrit," Cain said, and then Ifrit turned away from Kreios. "Master of the Keep, this angel is the one called Death—Kreios, the Angel of El, Most High. He, not I, is your master."

The change was complete and immediate. Ifrit cowered, covering his face with his many wings, bowing low and trembling. "Say true? I did not know or I would not have laid my hands upon you. I beg for mercy, Kreios; I am yours." Ifrit again flickered, and like an old flame blown out, he changed form and reappeared as a man.

Kreios now spoke. "Ifrit, son of Abel, I know that you do not serve El or the evil one. You serve only death, and I am Death." Kreios came down and stood before the bowed demon. He was not angry, for he knew the master of the Keep was not permitted to go to the world above. He was a simple slave of his function, unless something were to change. When Ifrit took a soul in death, it passed to this place in solitude. Kreios knew of the Keep of the Damned because the Books spoke of it.

Cain had once been the master of the Keep, but El saw fit to make him finish his punishment under the sun. But these stories were the kind only told in the wind.

Ifrit stood before Kreios, his face now showing a flicker of hope. "Is the time now come?"

Kreios nodded. "I need you to take me into your Keep, to speak to the ones I have called to be kept in this place."

"I am the guard, the watcher of the gate and master of the Keep, but I have never entered there before, Kreios, Son of El. Only the first Master may bid us enter."

They both nodded toward Cain. "It is time," Kreios said.

"Lead us to your dead," Cain commanded.

These words were like a key in a lock and the great doors obeyed, the sound of the withdrawal of heavy iron locking bars ringing out like a dark bell tolling for the dead.

The three mounted the stairs with Ifrit in front, Cain behind and to his left, Kreios behind and to his right. The doors into the hall swung open as they set foot upon the terrace. They crossed the threshold into darkness.

The doors closed behind them, sealing them inside.

Ahead of them were a dais and a seat like a throne, a censer hanging by a cord from the ridge beam directly over it. Red-hot embers burned in the censer, and the smoke rose from it continually.

Whispers from the shadows came to their ears, and they said the same word again and again, redoubled upon itself a million times over. "Cain."

The three stood before the empty throne and looked up at the censer and the smoke that poured from it. In its weird light, Cain spoke. "You who murdered, hear now Death and obey." The sound of his voice produced ripples in the great hall, and the three could feel the dead startle and dart like great schools of fish all around them in the darkness.

More echoes of whispers sounded. "Cain."

Kreios spoke. "I have need of you once more. My voice called you to this place and now I call you from it. Rise to created life under the sun once more, and by fulfilling those works I will set forth, you will reap your reward."

The whispers changed. They now resounded millions upon millions of times. "Ifrit."

Ifrit spoke in response, confirming the command. "Let us rise."

The smoke pouring from the censer increased, thickening and blackening, like ink in water. Finally the censer burst and fell, the embers it once contained raining fire down upon the dais and the throne, consuming it. The great doors through which the three had entered were now thrown open outward and tossed aside, their iron hinge pins bent and cracked.

The Keep was broken, and the dead poured out of it. Kreios flew out of the grave at their head, and the gathering darkness surrounded him. He was Death. Now all of his own were at his command.