Divine Descent

Chapter Twenty-Two

"He'd be glad we're together."

Akan slips his hand into mine with a small smile. "Your presence has revived me. I'm indebted to you for your graciousness. I can walk again. I can smile again. I have something to look forward to when this place comes to haunt me."

I look down. "I wish I could take you from here, keep you with me."

"I have debts I must pay."

"Still, maybe you could stay near us. Maybe I could get Samael to agree to it."

He nudges me when my brain begins to spin into overdrive, imagining the way these months would pass with ease with a link to Elijah nearby. "Cassandra, you don't want to test a man like him."

"I think I could persuade him, seriously."

He shakes his head, affectionate but stern. "I made my bed, Cassandra. I must lie in it."

I hang on those words, pondering over them, plotting my next move and then I push back, hopping to my feet. "It couldn't hurt to ask."

"Where are you going?"

"Well he's gotta be wondering where I am by now."

"Don't do anything stupid, alright?" He raises his voice as I jog for the steps. "You already have enough to worry about!"

I wave dismissively, swinging recklessly over the edge of the building onto the rickety ladder that leads down to the ground level. The weeks in eternal damnation have shaped me as a student. I have learnt the ways of the dead, the labyrinth to which they live in reflection and torment. The nooks and corners, the alleys and secret passageways I travel through like a homeland, fearing nothing and no one.

Nearing the gates of Hell where Samael spends most of his days, closed off by an open barrier, surrounded by those of his choosing, I am confronted by swarms, those who believe being near me, touching me, will save them.

Although I can do nothing of the sort, I admire this part of my sentence. When once I used to despair close proximity, strangers, I now embrace their desire for something better than what they've gotten themselves into.

It's almost been a month.

One whole month.

And my smiles are mostly reserved for these spirits, the darkling's of the world.

They can conjure it out of me. As I pass through them, honing in on the textures of their flailing hands—some calloused, some smooth—I whisper to them, trying to look as many of them in the eye as possible without getting dizzy.

My eyes scan the amount of crowd left, stopping over their heads to where Samael stands, waiting for me, his advisors beside him. They are talking to him but he isn't listening. I ease my way through the last of the spirits apologetically, climbing a few stairs with an apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

He smiles, shrugging it off. "Who the hell are you seeing out there anyway?"

"An old friend."

Patiently, he waits for more. It's only when I've stared long enough at the demon by his ear that he understands my silence is due to a lack of privacy. He clears the space near him with dismissive nod, starting down to meet me on the stairs.

"You can trust the advisors, Cassandra."

"I don't even know half of their names."

"Well, if you came to the meetings, you would."