18
Fires climbed up the walls of the strategy room, setting the metal to ablaze and boiling the sulfur into sizzling foul-smelling puddles. Amanda kept her nose pinched, and tried not to think of where the leather in her chair was from. After the second encounter with Michael, she had begged Marc to come along to Hell. He’d been hesitant at first, but with the current state of affairs with the Heavens, there wasn’t really much of an argument anymore. Earth was no longer a safer place for her.
Marc turned one of the skulls on the side of the strategy table, causing it to split open in the middle, revealing the lower levels of Hell in a three-dimensional representation. From the side, it reminded Amanda of a morbid dollhouse.
Like an inverted wedding cake buried underneath the infernal plains, the Nine Circles sat at the core of the strategy table. At the top, the lush gardens of Limbo rested on top of the windswept crags of the Second Circle. Near the middle, the noxious swamps of the Fifth Circle, with the black waters of Styx, stood out like an especially green and molded layer of cheese. Further down, the flaming tombs of the heretics hissed and crackled in the Seventh Circle. At the very bottom, the Frozen Lake glittered with icy betrayal.
Amanda had a hard time keeping her eyes off the miniature tools of wicked punishment but soon moved on to watch the baby imps as they slowly marched over the brimstone wastes. If it weren’t for their twisted little faces and tufts of gray hair, they would’ve been really cute with their frog-like legs and minuscule wings.
Planning a war in Hell was a complicated matter – something like chess, but with a three-dimensional board and a myriad of strange new pieces. There were no definitive borders, and battles could take place on many levels at once. Key points were the gateways and citadels. Navigation between battlefields was crucial. Amanda learned a lot from watching Marc and his advisors discuss strategy and make plays.
One term that seemed to come up often was ‘wrap-around.’ It basically meant engaging in a battle on one level, while simultaneously taking over a gateway on another, and surprising the enemy with reinforcements from an unexpected angle.
“I’d say we consolidate my forces in the Bone Desert…” Baphomet lifted two of the red imps between the tips of his claws and placed them next to a green one on the other side of the River of Souls. “...with Asmodeus’s Winged Horrors here…” He briskly pushed the imps toward a castle on the top of a volcano. “...and then we storm the Temple of Moloch! Head on! Brute force!”
Marc rounded the table, his chin caught between his thumb and index finger. “While that temple is the gateway into the Forest of Sixty-six Plagues and a strategic position in the upcoming battles for the East, being that aggressive is too risky right now. We don’t know where any of the fallen angels are.”
Baphomet let out a low growl and clacked his hoofs impatiently against the floor. “Passivity has never won any wars.”
“Neither has recklessness.” Asmodeus’s four heads nodded in unison. “Marcellixis is right. We need to wait for Lucifer’s next move. We still have the numbers, but we don’t know where the two hundred are stationed.”
“It’s less a question of when, and more of a question where. Lucifer will strike, and we need to anticipate it,” Marc said.
Lilith, who had been silent for a while, pushed herself to her feet and leaned over the table, she glared at Amanda. “Don’t you have any insights? Lucifer practically lived in your head for a while.”
Amanda looked at her hands. She’d tried to remember, but the fog still lay thick in her mind, and she couldn’t find her way back to the memories.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
Lilith snorted and returned her focus to the table. The four demons continued their discussion, while Abaddon watched silently from the doorway. Around her, the debate grew in heat and intensity. The three advisors couldn’t agree on anything anymore, and Marc seemed to have a hard time making any proper decisions. Everything circled back to the fallen angels.
“What if…” Amanda said, suddenly feeling nervous when everyone turned their eyes to her. “What if the angels aren’t loyal to Lucifer?”
Lilith sighed, but Asmodeus’s bull head nodded. “Go on.”
Amanda swallowed. “What if you could get some of the angels to join you?”
“That’s absurd!” Baphomet thundered. “They’re loose cannons, all of them!”
“Look who’s talking,” Lilith said.
“She might have a point,” Marc said. “We’re assuming that they’re siding with Lucifer by default. What if they aren’t?”
“What do you mean?” Baphomet’s voice was calm but still caused the room to vibrate.
“Last time those angels followed Lucifer they were thrown out of Heaven and ended up in the Pit. Thousands of years locked inside a small cage has the potential of changing one’s perspectives… or build up a massive grudge.” Marc’s eyes lingered on Amanda as he spoke, his red irises burning with newfound vigor. “What if Lucifer’s recently passive approach to the war is because she’s out cutting deals and mending alliances? Maybe we should seek out the fallen angels as well?”
The room fell silent for a while as everyone tried to poke holes in the theory. Even Lilith’s forehead wrinkled in deep thought. Baphomet was the first one to speak.
“Well, what are we waiting for!?” He rose out of his chair in one powerful move. “Let’s go!”
“Hell is large and has an uncountable number of dark corners to hide in,” Asmodeus said, eyes peering at the strategy table. “I best get to the library. This requires some extensive research.”
The bulky demon rose and shuffled out of the strategy room. He left a dusty trail of ashes on the floor behind him and then disappeared down the corridor outside.
“We reconvene in eight hours,” Marc said and turned the massive hourglass mounted by the door. Fine bone powder started trickling down.
He then took Amanda by the hand, and they left together.
***
Baphomet caught up to them in the corridor outside.
“I need a word in private,” the big demon rumbled.
“This is private.”
Baphomet shook his horned head, the pentagram pulsating above his eyebrows. Marc looked at him intensely. When the demon didn’t relent, he shrugged and snapped his fingers. A corrupted cherub instantly buzzed up to them.
“Show her to the royal chambers,” Marc said.
Amanda looked a bit nervous at first but then left with the flying demon guiding her way.
“What is it?” Marc said when he lost sight of Amanda.
Baphomet lowered his voice to a whisper, which was no easy task given his oversized vocal cords. “In the desert after the battle… did you see it?”
“See what?” Marc said.
“The lamb by the tree.”
Marc shook his head. “There are no lambs in Hell.”
“There are no blooming trees in the Bone Desert either. At least there shouldn’t be.”
“Well, where is the lamb now?”
“I went to take a better look at it after you left, but it was gone.”
Marc’s lips curled into a stiff smile. “I kind of have my hands full, so until you have something more concrete...”
He turned to follow Amanda.
“You know what it means, Marcellixis,” Baphomet rumbled ominously.