Page 70 of The Morning Star
“Usurp? What the fuck does usurp even mean?” Ahia asked.
Fuck if I knew. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not Samael. He doesn’t have the sword, he doesn’t have the support of more than a dozen Ancients. Out of all of Hel, he’s only managed to mobilize thirty thousand. What does that tell you?”
It told me that he was vulnerable. Not only did he lack the demon-power to expand his reach, but he was probably right now struggling to keep everyone committed and in-line, obeying his orders.
The imposter wasn’t the Iblis, but I was.
“We need to hit these guys hard and hit them now,” I told the other angels. “We took LA. We had him hemmed in and had killed enough of his army that he needed to call every demon he could to come to his rescue. There’s got to be gossip about him right now, about how he’s not as powerful as everyone thought. There will be doubts about his ability to deliver on what he’s promising. And unlike the Ancients, none of these demons really give a shit what name he’s going by. The majority of Hel won’t even follow him.”
“The majority of Hel won’t follow you,” Gabriel helpfully pointed out. “I don’t think you could get thirty thousand to follow you, so in that sense he’s more of an Iblis than you are. And it’s not like that sword listens to you or appears every time you want it to.”
“Fuck you,” I told the angel. “So the real Samael was leading a hundred thousand angels at less than a thousand years old, was he? And before you start that ‘just an imp with a sword’ bullshit, let me tell you that I’ve killed angels and I’ve killed Ancients. I’ve devoured half a mountainside and recreated it. Even depleted, I had enough energy within me to blow up a fucking island and pulverize everything on it. I’m an Angel of Chaos. I’m the Iblis. I’ll rule Hel and the demons in my own way, not as some motherfucking copy of your shitty loser of a brother. Get me close enough to this bastard and I’ll kill him, no matter how many demons he has in his so-called army.”
They all stared at me in surprise. After a few seconds I heard Gregory chuckle.
“All right then, Cockroach. This is your show. You tell us what to do and we’ll do it. For the rest of this war, the Iblis is our leader.”
Yes. Damn right I was.
I should have been planning and plotting, organizing my household, and preparing for the battle ahead. Instead I was sitting on the couch with Lux, drinking a beer and watching 300. Yeah, it was violent and Nyalla would have a fit that I was letting Lux watch it, but I was hoping to get some pointers on successful battle strategy before I faced these demons once more.
“Think I should go in half-naked?” I asked Lux.
He shook his head and took another swig of beer.
“Yeah, doesn’t look like the Spartans are doing all that well, which is surprising. I’d figured their glistening abs would have been enough to drop the enemy to their knees.”
This movie choice hadn’t been my best idea. The Spartans were grossly outnumbered, just as we were. And in spite of their plucky bravado and naked fighting style, they were going to lose. Just as we probably were. I turned the channel to a Bugs Bunny cartoon and got up to get another beer, nearly pissing myself to see Gimlet standing behind the couch. He wasn’t his usual Low self, instead assuming his gorgeous, Samael form.
“Fuck! Knock, or cough or something, damn it!”
Lux turned around on the sofa. “Samael.”
Seriously? How long had my kid known?
He ignored Lux and folded his arms across his chest, regarding me coolly. “So you’ll rule Hel and the demons in your own way, not as some motherfucking copy of their shitty loser of a brother?”
I shrugged. “Eavesdrop, and you’ll hear some unpleasant stuff. Yes, I’ll rule Hel my own way. And yes, you’re a shitty loser.” I edged past him and made my way into the kitchen, hearing him follow.
I pulled out two beers, turned to hand him one, and saw him pick up one of the amulets that were on the counter. I’d kept them in the kitchen, out of Low hands until the battle because I didn’t want anyone blowing their heads off.
“You give up on the sword?” he asked. “Planning on throwing human-style magical weapons at Luziel and his army instead?”
Luziel. I drew a blank at the name but vowed to run it by Gregory later. I was glad Samael had finally revealed the identity of the imposter. If I believed him, that is. For all I knew, this could be some random Ancient he was going to throw under the bus just for kicks.
“The sorcerer shit is for the Lows. I might be an imp, but I’m not planning on personally relying on human magic to win this war.”
“Sorcerer shit.” He shook his head and set the amulet back down, taking one of the beers from me. “It’s really not magic. It’s all just a focus, you know. Those amulets, and special symbols, and gems, and stuff? None of that matters. It’s what the spirit imbues them with that matters.”
“Sorcerers are human. They’re not beings of spirit like we are,” I reminded him.
He actually looked disappointed at my comment. “What do you think the gifts of Aaru are? Their spirit-beings are just tied tightly to their corporeal form, where ours are not. If they didn’t die so damned quickly, they’d be just as powerful as we are. They’re forever too young to fully realize their powers, which is why they use a focus in their magic.”
I snorted. “We don’t do what they do. I’ve used human and elven magic to gain an edge in a fight, and these items are more than just a focus.”
“They’re just a focus,” he insisted. “Human and elves have these powers, because of the gifts from Aaru. Don’t be fooled by the wands and gems. This amulet only works because it means something. It’s a symbol to the caster, a tool to channel and concentrate the magical energy inside them. Otherwise it’s just a rock, or some squiggles on a parchment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is this another lecture? Like with the biscuit-axe thingie? Because I’m about ready to doze off here.”
