After pulling on my vest, I grab my knives and slot each into the small notches that hold them. I raise an eyebrow to tell him to go on. I’m listening.
“The fissures in the earth. Some of the deeper ones have been disturbed. The ground around the edges appeared changed. Prints unlike any I’ve seen.”
“What do you mean they’ve been disturbed?”
He sits quietly for a moment and stares ahead as if at nothing. Concern mars his features, though, and that instantly puts me on edge. It usually takes a lot to unsettle him.
When he speaks next, his voice has lowered as if his troubling thoughts are mirrored in his tone.
“Do you want what my gut instincts are telling me? What my senses are warning me of, or do you want facts? Because I don’t have facts. I can tell you that whatever breached those fissures came from the same place parts of my soul did. I felt it. And at the bottom of those cracks is more than dirt or clay earth.”
I freeze at his words.
“The war that was promised…”
“Won’t be one among men is my guess.”
“He knew, and he didn’t tell us.”
“This was always a possibility. The war was coming either way in the end.”
“Yes, but not before we each play our part. Not before the hearts, minds, and souls of those brought back have been given their due time and tested. Not before you, or Orán, or Tíarnach, have served your purpose. Mine is nearly complete, so I’m not worried about that, but you all should still have plenty of time to carry yours out.”
“Not necessarily.”
“We’re guaranteed the opportunity to do so.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean Lucifer won’t manipulate the contract terms or work around the agreement. He’ll do whatever it takes to reclaim as many souls as possible so he’s the victor. I know that because I know him like I know my own mind.”
“Surely, there are no loopholes.”
He stands, dominating the room as he strides forward. His leathers are coated in ash. His shirt, jeans, and overcoat are charcoal, with a light dusting. The dirt on his boots continues to mess up my cream-colored carpet with each of his thudding footsteps.
“A glaring one. Even I noticed it.”
“Which part?”
“The top six realms of hell, the souls there were to be reborn and given human form once more, a chance to redeem themselves, and reach salvation, yes? When the Day of Judgment came, and we were allowed to reach this plane to serve out the purpose we were made for.”
“Yes.”
“And everything weighs on the scale of souls, which way it falls in the end, yes?”
“Yes.” Not understanding at all, my mind pinwheels as I search my recollection and think through each decree laid out in the terms of the agreement God and Lucifer reached at the end of the Second War. I know it line by line, word for word, and still I examine all the different ways it could be interpreted or misinterpreted, leaving this all to play out differently than what we believe has been set into motion.
“He rigged it in his favor from the beginning.”
“How so?”
“Push your awareness out. Out as far as you can. Stretch it thin and force it even farther.”
Troubled and with a sourness building in my gut, I do so. I stride to the balcony and open the doors. It builds small, and I let go of my hold on all the people here so that my awareness isn’t funneled into their minds, but beyond the city, beyond those it holds. A very thinly woven blanket of awareness spreads over them, accounting for each one. Then I stretch it further and further and further still. I do so until my knees buckle, and Kahill is there to place his hands on my hips and hold me steady as I use everything in me to focus my power out over the world and the souls who remain here.
There are so many souls, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
I slump in Kahill’s hold as I withdraw my power and as the knowledge of what has been done settles over me. Kahill guides me back to the bed and sets me on the edge until my power reestablishes itself.
“Do you get it now? See the loophole?”
