Page 74 of Dragon Her Heels

Upon closer inspection, I decided the thread hadn’t actually been destroyed, it just had never been given the opportunity to become something and decayed. Rather than pity the Devil, I marveled at his strength—and worked my way through the sadness of his dealing with such a burden.

I began the tedious process of following the thread, determining it ran throughout the entirety of the weave that was his darkness, serving as one of the critical weft threads throughout the tapestry that was his life. The warp lines intrigued me; they were all buried beneath and were the source of the glimmers.

After a while, a realization sank in.

The thread I followed made up the entirety of the darkness enveloping the light within. Layered over itself a hundred or more times, creating a thick casing hiding the truth of Lucifer’s existence.

“You are the Lord of the Morning, aren’t you?” I asked without opening my eyes, wondering if I might find his father’s radiance within.

“I am.”

“And you are also the Lord of Lies.”

“I am.”

What an amazing being, so perfectly balanced yet capable of fooling all into believing he was the prime source of all evil.

With but a single tug, I could unravel and reweave it all, allowing his light to shine while shading his glory with the many threads of dark fates—the dark fates he used to preserve what mattered to him the most.

With but a single tug, I could rewrite what it meant for him to be both the Lord of the Morning and the Lord of Lies.

During the wait, while I contemplated the matter, more of the glimmers appeared, straining to be part of the weave but denied by the darkness forced to the surface.

Upon considering what I’d learned of Hugh, of Him, I believed the weave had not been of his father’s making but rather of his.

“You’re thinking about fiddling,” Lucifer accused. “I know that look well. My wife uses it all the time.”

I smiled at that. “I’m thinking about fiddling. I fiddled with your father a little. He deserved it.”

“Most use deserved as a negative consequence, but that is not what you mean.”

“You are correct. I plucked the thread of guilt so it might never bother us again. That is the thread that leads to the End of Days, I’m sure. The uncertainty, the remorse—I took his willingness to forgive himself and gave it permanence. That’s just an unravel, a simple enough matter for a hedge witch.”

“It’s nowhere near as simple as you think. Most hedge witches can barely lay curses let alone unravel them.”

“Curses,” I complained. “They’re so much trouble to unravel. I only lay a curse I mean, and I would much rather get satisfaction through my own efforts, thank you.”

I’d laid a few curses over the years to those deserving and I hadn’t been able to spare the time to seek out justice in other ways. My favorite remained the asshole I’d caught beating a cat.

Thanks to my magic, no animal would fall prey to that one again.

Those that could defend themselves would.

Those who could not would be gifted with the opportunity to summon those who could.

“Ah, yes. That one. You sent that one to the grave with that curse, you know.”

Some consequences I had no problems with. “Good. He deserved it. Had I not been dealing with work at the time, I would have made his end far more immediate and worse.”

I continued to examine the warp and weft that was Lucifer, debating how best to accomplish my goal without changing much at all—at least on the surface for those who might sneak peeks. I decided that the Devil’s nature should remain intact, a silky shroud of darkness used to disguise the robust truth beneath. The warp of the silky shroud would be of the purest light, drawing from the radiance beneath while the weft would remain darkness, staying true to the origin I would be meddling with.

The true beauty would be found beneath, a reflection of all that had been, all that was, and all that would be.

Unlike with the node or with the problem of His doubt, I found Lucifer an easier puzzle to solve, unravel, and weave to be better suiting. The exterior shroud remained a dark sky full of stars, a glimmering expanse sharing the beauty of a clear night.

I alternated night and darkness in the warp and weft beneath until the light illuminated without eradicating the shadows.

At the core of it all, I found that same radiance, and while not pure white, I found it to be equal to His in every way, a beacon of warmth and comfort.