Page 60 of Samhain Savior
After the Fall, it had been difficult for several of Lucifer’s Host to come to terms with their new situation. Many of them wanted to revolt, to wage war on those who had wronged us and exact the revenge they felt was their due.
One among them spoke the loudest, spewing falsehoods into the ears of his brothers until the whispers were louder than the truth.
Belial.
Once Lucifer’s second, Belial quickly became his greatest detractor, gathering followers of his own to his cause and stirring up rebellion any chance he got.
Through it all, Lucifer had stood strong, holding fast against the tide of wrath that nearly consumed so many of us in those first few centuries.
Even after the betrayal he’d suffered, he’d remained loyal to his Father, probably to a fault.
But eventually, even Lucifer’s orders weren’t enough to stay their hands. Several members of his Host defected, venturing further into the bowels of Hell and finding places where their rage and hatred could fester, turning what was once barely a cut to their pride into a rotten, rancid mass looking for a place to explode.
Slowly, they gathered more to their cause, and the divide amongst the Host became more pronounced, with everyone choosing a side.
Some, like the members of theUmbra Fratrum, stood by our Dark Lord, trusting in his wisdom and benevolence to lead us through our new trial.
But far too many sided with Belial and his quest for revenge. Furfures, the Storm-bringer, was among them.
The Fallen Host had been fractured beyond repair.
“We’ve been here before, Storm-bringer,” I growled, my focus on the demon before me. “You and your ilk have tried and failed countless times. You will not win. There is no overthrowing Lucifer. His rule is secure.”
“Your arrogance is truly astonishing.” A huge gust of wind swept in from the open doors behind Storm-bringer’s back, throwing pamphlets and papers around in a swirling vortex. Helena cackled, her scarred face twisting with glee as she pressed backward against the wind, making her way to the door and disappearing into the darkened afternoon.
Summoning my shadows, I kept my gaze on Fufures, nocking an arrow and keeping it aimed right where his shriveled heart would lay. Reaching deep inside, I summoned my magic, shaping and coalescing it into a furious mass within me. It felt like a bomb about to explode, and I infused it with all the anger, frustration, and disappointment I had bubbling inside.
“It’s not arrogance if you can back it up,” I said, then hit him with everything I had.
Shadows poured across the church, a tsunami of darkness that swept the remaining witches away on a tide of power. They screamed as they were consumed, my shadows devouring their flesh and then their foul souls.
In the center of the Nave, Storm-bringer snarled, his own magic buffeting against mine, shadows and wind swirling together to form a cyclone that tore through the wooden pew boxes, splintering them to pieces as our powers fought for dominance. I could sense Corson and Vine, their own magics of earth and fire being added to mine, strengthening me enough so that I could throw Storm-bringer back at last. In a single huge push, our combined power slammed into Furfures, and he collapsed into a pile on the church floor, the wind he had wrought falling silent at last.
“Why is he so strong?” Vine asked, his chest heaving with the effort he’d expended. “He wasn’t this strong when we locked him up, was he?”
“No,” I agreed, my eyes narrowed at the limp form of the Storm-bringer where he lay. “He most definitely wasn’t.”
“What do you want to do with him?” Corson asked, sounding exhausted.
“We can’t kill him,” I said, knowing that even in Lucifer’s absence, the rules he’d set in place still held.
Above us, Mal let out a caw that sounded very much like a complaint. He had always hated the bureaucratic aspect of our work.
“But I really, really wanna kill him,” Vine moaned, stomping his foot.
“You know the law.”
Lucifer had hated the idea of his Host turning on one another. From the very beginning, he’d decreed that all out murder among his people should be avoided at all costs.
“I’d love to take him back where he belongs,” I lamented, using my shadows to wrap Furfures tightly and lift him off the floor. “But until the paths are opened again, we’re stuck with him.” I sneered at the demon, hanging in the air like a limp sausage, head flopping from side to side as we moved. “We’ll take him to Asmodeus; perhaps he’ll have an idea on how to secure him. Now, let’s get moving. With the storm over, the humans will be returning, and I really don’t want to be here when they see the mess we’ve made of their church.”
“This would have broken my uncle’s heart,” Persephone murmured sadly, still clutching Vine, her face pale as she took in the devastation. Most of the pew boxes were broken, the painted wood splintered beyond recognition. Onthe altar, the tall pillar candles had tipped over and cracked, not a single one remaining unbroken.
It was utter carnage.
“I’ll see it fixed,” I promised, and Persephone gave a sad smile. “But for now, we must go. Come along, witch.”
But there was only silence.
