Category: Angels

Immortal beings in possession of Graces and Keys.

Astaroth’s Wager, Part XIII

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XII.

It was just past two in the morning on December 25, 1936, when Caius returned to his master. Astaroth was sitting before a roaring fire in the drawing room of a mansion in Beverly Hills. Caius inhabited the body of a rat and leapt onto her shoulder. “I have returned, madam.”

A contemporary postcard of Constance Bennett’s home, one of the Meeses’ neighbors. The architectural style employed at the Meese home was very similar.

“Caius! I’ll bet you’ve succeeded!” Astaroth squealed. “And on Christmas! That’s a fine touch. The primate investigators will probably think it’s an accident. Here—let me call Svipul here. She’s been possessing the body of a primate. You can take over for her for the meantime.”

“You look different, madam. Have you been possessing the body of a primate as well?”

“Never in an angelic age, no. I’ve become so accustomed to looking like this horrible little man that I completely forgot that I’m among friends,” Astaroth said. Over the previous five months, she had been pretending that she was Mr. Philip T. Meese—an older gentleman of average height with gray hair combed in such a fashion so as to cover his baldness, blue eyes, a bulbous nose, three chins and a considerable paunch. She marched over to the nearest mirror and without any visible transformation, blonde bombshell Astaroth was the reflection that the mirror reported back to her. “That’s better. I’m wondering when women will have any sort of power and independence again in this world. I hope it’s soon. I hate having to look like bald, fat men to be taken seriously by primates. The late Mr. Meese was the least repulsive motion picture studio executive for me to destroy so that I could steal his identity and station.”

Svipul had had to adjust, too. As soon as she saw Caius as the rat, she departed the body of the gray-haired, garishly-dressed Mrs. Ada Meese, and her body crumpled to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. Svipul immediately took her usual form—a far more severe-looking but less attractive blonde than Astaroth—and said, “Oh fantastic—Caius, take over for me. I’m sick of that woman. Humans are just so bruisable. I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t know how you are able to cope with them.”

The rat ran out of the room and towards the kitchen when Caius departed its body, and within a fraction of a moment, Mrs. Meese was upright. “She smells better than most humans. Thank you, madam.”

“Tell me—are all the Warrens dead, except Florence?” Astaroth said.

“It is so, madam.”

“And how did it go?”

“I started with the children, as was your suggestion, madam, and I inhabited the body of a stray cat. I taught the elder child how to write my name using various dead languages, and I taught him some very small spells to hurt his younger sister and parents. As his punishments got worse, his anger grew, and when he discovered that Santa Claus only left him a lump of coal for Christmas, I convinced him to start a fire to destroy his family. I made sure he was trapped in the bedroom and possessed Florence only long enough to escape with very serious burns. She’s in the hospital now. The police should be by to inform Thomas Carver of what happened to his sister later today. I heard the officers in Kansas City discuss contacting the local police here in Los Angeles to make the notification. Their expectation is that her brother will take Florence in and look after her,” Caius explained.

“And her mental state?”

“Florence knows her son started the fire. She’d been trying to stop him from burning down the house all week long. Given the strain from such a personal tragedy, his magically-enforced systematic torture of them all and their many financial woes, she’s quite mad, madam,” Caius stated.

“Impressive,” Svipul remarked.

“Thank you, Chancellor Svipul.”

“If I’m perfectly honest, I have to admit that I’m envious of all the fun you had. Now that the hook is baited, we wait. And I’ll have you know that there’s a new title in this for you, too, Caius. There’s no reason for you to remain a mere Devil any longer,” Astaroth said.

“Might I inquire after your mark, madam?” he asked.

Astaroth explained, “Oh, the newlywed Carvers are ever so deeply boring: so in love, can’t believe their luck, expecting a child in May, blahblahBLAHBLAH. But not for long! Merry Christmas, Thomas Carver. I hope he truly enjoys it, as it’ll be his last.”

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XIV.

February 1, 2011, 07:04
Astaroth’s Wager, Part XII

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XI.

Adelaide found it difficult not to be taken with Thomas’s enthusiasm. She returned his smile and asked, “What happened?”

“Yesterday was a pretty normal day at work, when into the elevator walks this man—kinda older, wearing a really nice suit and hat, going to the ninth floor. Something about him felt kinda familiar from the start. Anyway—we start going upstairs when this man just starts staring at me. So I ask him about his day, and he answers politely but doesn’t really mention much, until out of the blue he asks me, ‘Are you Henry Carver’s son? The Henry Carver from Independence, Missouri?’

“This man introduces himself as Philip Meese, and he starts asking after my parents. I told him that Pop passed away last January and was followed by Mom the following April. Then this Mr. Meese tells me how it’s a shame that he’s gone because my father was a great man who helped him out once. Apparently this Mr. Meese was travelling through Kansas City in ‘02 and got taken for all his money by a dishonest man, and my father spotted him a dollar to get a hot meal and a part of a train ticket to Chicago, where, incidentally, he made his first fortune.

“So Mr. Meese gets off on the ninth floor, and he’s up there for about twenty minutes before he gets back in my elevator to go back downstairs. He goes on to tell me that he always wanted to repay the favor to Pop, but he never got back to Kansas City to look him up. Then he asks if I’d be willing to let him take me out for dinner that evening to discuss a business proposition with me.

“This Mr. Meese takes me to John’s Grill for dinner and buys me a steak with all the trimmings. He tells me all about how he’s involved in the pictures these days as a producer. Even though everyone else has fallen on hard times, he’s making lots of money in Hollywood. Then he tells me that he’s been looking for a hard-working young man like me to work with him and learn the business of being a producer, and he offers me a job working in his offices with him the week after next if I can convince my bride-to-be to elope with me and move down to Los Angeles.

“I’ll be making at least four times what I make here, Addie. We can get our own house and everything,” Thomas said. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette lighter. “Look—this is what Mr. Meese gave me. He said it was his way of investing in me, like collateral. It’s gold. You can bite it yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Adelaide took the lighter. There were small indentations in the corner where Thomas had bitten it to test the gold’s authenticity. Along the bottom, there was a geometric arrangement of triangles engraved into the gold, and it looked like this:

“So whaddya say?”

Adelaide felt a touch of hesitation. She remembered the dream she’d had the previous morning in which they’d eloped. She couldn’t remember how it had ended, but she felt like the ending was important when compared with the other dreams she’d had that same night. Of all the dreams she’d had, it was the most positive of them all, and it didn’t occur her to that she ought to find the precognitive nature of the dream in itself a reason for hesitation. In fact, it made the circumstances feel right, and she put aside her momentary misgivings.

She looked into Thomas’ eyes. His enthusiasm was contagious. She knew that he didn’t want to be an elevator operator or a grocer, and that he’d discovered his opportunity to make something of himself. She knew that she’d be happy as long as she was with him. All the rest was forgivable.

She threw her arms around him and kissed him. She said, “I’ll sneak out an hour before sunrise. Meet me here then.”

“I’ll buy us tickets for the first train for Los Angeles tomorrow. We can get married there.”

“I can’t wait to be Mrs. Adelaide Carver!”

And it was so that on Tuesday, June 9, 1936, Adelaide Grayson married Thomas Carver, with Mr. & Mrs. Philip Meese serving as their witnesses. Adelaide didn’t understand why, but after they kissed before the Justice of the Peace and the Meeses, Adelaide thought about the dream she’d had in which she and Thomas had eloped. She remembered that in her dream, the witnesses they had chosen were the same two women with the swords she’d seen in the dream with Rose Nielsen.

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XIII.

January 25, 2011, 07:09
Astaroth’s Wager, Part XI

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part X.

“Now that I’ve eliminated the angel and the Nephil in the mix, I can get down to business,” Astaroth declared.

“You know, you could easily have this entire wager sewn up by tomorrow,” Svipul said.

“Absolutely not. The true destruction of hope requires the investment of time. I have a slightly less than a year to accomplish this, and I’ll make sure it’s done right,” Astaroth said. “Don’t bother with the primate—I’ll take her home. She might require some motivation to accomplish what comes next, and I know just how to do it.”

Astaroth left Svipul in Antwerp and took Adelaide back to her bedroom. She hovered over Adelaide to gather information, spending more than an hour slipping into the young woman’s subconscious. The sun was threatening to claw its way over the horizon when she called for Caius, and he possessed a small robin and perched on the windowsill of Adelaide’s bedroom to receive his master’s directive.

Nekus often possess birds, like this fantastic robin, on account of their mobility and relative stealth. They’re never able to survive it, though. Poor little guys.

“Quiet, Caius,” Astaroth ordered in a barely audible whisper. “I need her asleep. The manipulation of dreams is one of the best tools that Apokomistai have at our disposal. It’s almost a shame that I can’t teach it to you.”

“What do you wish of me, madam?”

“I need you to find Thomas Carver’s sister. Her name’s Florence Warren, and she lives in Kansas City with her husband Roy and their two children Eugene and Lois. They live in the Carver family home, and they’ve been, as the primates put it, having a awfully hard time lately,” Astaroth said.

“What will you have me do, madam?”

“Possess any creature you like, with the exception of a primate. A bird might work—something the primates are inclined to prefer, something cute—and I want you to stalk that family. You might start with the children and work your way up. I’ll leave it up to you—you’ve always demonstrated a prodigious amount of creativity when it comes to inspiring madness within primates. I don’t care how you do it, but I want a specific outcome.”

“And what would that be, madam?”

“I want everyone in that house to die in a fire within six months. Except Florence. I need her alive,” Astaroth said.

“And in what condition, madam?”

“As scarred and insane as possible,” Astaroth said.

* * *

Adelaide Grayson woke from her slumber not long after sunrise. She had a groggy notion that Rose Nielsen had fallen asleep guarding her, but Rose was nowhere to be found. She didn’t give Rose’s absence too much thought, for she was distracted by the odd sequence of dreams she’d had. The first was an incomplete scene in which she and Rose had been transported to a strange location where there were a couple of women who threatened them with swords and knives. The second was a nightmare in which she was tied to a stake and consumed by fire. The third was a pleasant dream that she carried with her into consciousness, and in it, Thomas reported to her that he’d been offered a once-in-a-lifetime job, and that they were running off to Los Angeles to elope.

Just as she did every morning, Adelaide went downstairs to assist with breakfast for the boarders. She greeted her mother sleepily and asked about Rose while rinsing out the urn for the coffee.

Mrs. Grayson answered, “Miss Nielsen left about twenty minutes ago. She rang the bell to call me, paid her bill and left in a big hurry. She left a letter for you at the desk, though. She specifically mentioned that you were very kind to her.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Adelaide wondered.

“I asked, but she didn’t answer. I’d imagine that she left an explanation in that letter.”

Adelaide and her mother served the boarders their breakfast, and just as Adelaide was sitting down to enjoy her own breakfast after everyone had left, Thomas appeared in the kitchen.

“I wanted to check on you before I went in to work. That angel—Kavati or whoever—it was wasn’t around when I woke up this morning,” Thomas said.

“Miss Nielsen wasn’t around when I woke up, either. She left me a letter when she checked out of here in a hurry before I got up,” Adelaide said, presenting the letter from her apron pocket. “It’s odd, though. I could—” She paused.

“What is it?”

“I had the strangest dreams last night. The weirdest was that Miss Nielsen and I—I can’t even remember all of it. I only remember that she ripped me out of bed and transported me to a place where there were these women with swords. That’s all.”

Thomas refrained from issuing a comment. “Let’s see what’s in the letter. May I?”

Adelaide handed him the letter, and Thomas unsealed the envelope and laid the Rose’s missive on the table where both of them could read.

Dear Miss Grayson,

I hope that this letter finds you well and able to accept my apologies for leaving abruptly. My father returned while you were sleeping to inform me that the matter is settled and neither you nor Thomas are in any danger. My gifts are now required elsewhere, and I must leave San Francisco immediately. I wish you and Mr. Carver the very best in your future together. May God bless you and keep you always.

Sincerely,
Miss Rose Nielsen.

“I guess that’s that,” Thomas replied. “I’d love to stay, but I have to get to work now. I’ll come by later tonight.”

“See you later!” Adelaide said, sneaking in a kiss on the cheek. She ate the rest of her breakfast in the silence, entertaining a marvelous fascination with the vivid nature of her dream with Rose and the two women with swords.

* * *

Thomas never stopped by that evening. He telephoned her to let her know that he had been detained by an awesomely fortunate opportunity and that he would stop by with an explanation the following morning.

Adelaide awoke the next morning feeling far more refreshed than the day before, and she was grateful for the solid, dreamless sleep she’d had. Breakfast came and went without any sign of Thomas, and Adelaide and her mother were preparing for the lunch service when Thomas finally arrived. Although he was absolutely brimming with cheer, his appearance came in tandem with a host of apologies for both Adelaide and her mother. He asked to speak with Adelaide in private, and Mrs. Grayson obliged by leaving them alone in the kitchen.

Thomas’s lips parted to reveal a brilliant grin. “I’ll tell you, Addie—this has been the most remarkable week! Except for the day I met you, my love, yesterday was the luckiest day of my life!”

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XII.

January 18, 2011, 07:12
Astaroth’s Wager, Part X

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part IX.

“What will you have me do now, madam?” Caius asked.

“Well—Stolas should be calming down right about now and on his way to come kill me,” Astaroth said. “I know you’re partial to the body of that Prussian primate, but it’s time to let it go. Leave it, and leave here. You don’t want to be around when at least one angel shows up. I’ll call for you when I’m finished here.”

“As you wish, madam,” Caius replied. He sat down in a chair in their suite. The body that he had possessed went limp, falling into the deep unconsciousness characteristic of a coma. The essence of his Neku self had departed.

“Did you have to destroy my Kazuko as well when you destroyed all the other Nekus?” Svipul asked Astaroth. “It’ll take me at least two centuries to develop that kind of loyalty in another Neku.”

“I can’t argue with that. Nekus don’t really grasp their utter dependence upon their Apokomistai masters for at least half a millennium,” Astaroth said. “But you do realize, my dear Svipul, that you have a better chance at getting an audience with God than you do in extracting even the slightest apology from me.”

“So—what is your plan now?”

“I give Stolas not long at all before he’s here to try to take back my ellamadus,” Astaroth said. She migrated to the middle of the suite where there was an open space on the carpet.

“And then?”

“There’s the rub, isn’t it?” Astaroth said.

“You’re not even going to provide a hint as to what to expect?” Svipul asked, joining her in the open space.

“You can expect fun. Draw your sword. If you would be so kind as to provide me with support, I’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your bravery.” Astaroth held the Ashera Didilak in her open palm. She muttered a few phrases, and the ellamadus glowed brightly again.

“Is that the Ashera Didilak?” Svipul asked.

The ellamadus went dull in her hand. “Break my concentration again and you’ll find out just how much damage the Ashera Didilak really can do. Now—be ready. We don’t know how ready for battle the half-primate will be,” Astaroth ordered.

Svipul drew her sword.

Astaroth pronounced a few more phrases in the ancient, forgotten language, and for a few moments, her voice changed, so that the timbre of her voice more closely resembled a percussion instrument than a vocalized sound. The Ashera Didilak’s lavender light grew as unbearably bright as the sun for a fraction of a moment, until its light collapsed in on itself. The ellamadus phased out of sight for a similarly tiny amount of time and reappeared in Astaroth’s palm as it had before she had channelled its magics.

Rose Nielsen materialized out of thin air, and she fell on her knees onto the floor. She looked as if she had been awakened from a nap. Nonetheless, it appeared that she had sensed that she was being unexpectedly ripped from the comfort of where she had been, and with the one hand she had, she had gripped what was closest to her to anchor her. Much to her horror and Astaroth’s delight, it was a similarly sleepy and disoriented Adelaide Grayson.

Rose and Adelaide quickly tried to scramble to their feet, but Svipul held her blade at Rose’s throat. Svipul said with a voice filled with unnatural menace, “Keep to the floor and quiet. Both of you.”

Adelaide’s shock took the better of her. Her entire complexion turned grey, and she fainted again.

“Look, Svipul! Sitri isn’t the pathetic warrior we thought he was. I’ll go out on a limb here and guess that you’re unarmed, Miss Nielsen. I’d be willing to bet that you’ve forgotten your blade, too,” Astaroth said with an unnervingly giddy expression. “That primate might be able to lend you a hand in a very literal sense, but unless you brought your own weapon to disarm her, she’s useless to you now in every other meaningful way.” She directed her attention to Svipul and said, “What do you think? One pun too many?”

“Why do you want Adelaide?” Rose demanded.

“This has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with a miscarriage of a wager. I might even let the primate go when this is all over,” Astaroth said.

“My father and Kivati will be here soon,” Rose threatened.

“I’m counting on that,” Astaroth retorted. She held up the Ashera Didlak again and resumed eliciting its magics. The lavender light flowed out of it in long threads that circled Rose until they formed a faint chamber around her. Rose tried to protest, but the chamber only echoed her own sounds back to her. She looked panicked, and she started pounding on the walls of the chamber.

“Take the female primate with you and leave,” Astaroth said.

“I’ll meet you at my flat in Antwerp,” Svipul replied. She lifted Adelaide off the floor, and the two of them vanished.

Astaroth was alone in the suite with Rose inside her mystical chamber for no longer than a few long moments when Stolas appeared.

“Astaroth! I want it back!” he cried.

“I told you I just wanted to borrow it. You’ll have it back before you know it,” Astaroth said.

Rose was furiously kicking at the walls of the cocoon in a demonstration of futility when the entire character of the room shifted: Itzamná and Kivati had arrived.

Human eyes would never have caught everything that happened during the few seconds in which it all transpired: Astaroth tossed the Ashera Didilak in the air, drew her blade and vanished; Stolas caught the ellamadus; Kivati struck Stolas down and killed him; Itzamná struggled to break into the chamber to save his daughter; Astaroth rematerialized behind Itzamná, struck him with her blade and killed him. There was a jarring blast of light that burst in the room from Itzamná’s death, like supernova in the supremely miniature, and while Kivati was stunned by the explosion of Itzamná’s Graces, Astaroth seized the Ashera Didilak. She issued one final command to the Ashera Didilak, and the walls of chamber around Rose rapidly drew in to crush her and kill her. Kivati struck out at Astaroth to engage her in battle, but Astaroth’s merely lobbed the Ashera Didilak back at her and vanished.

The hotel suite went still. Kivati was alone in the silence with Caius’ dying human host and a clump of black material that resembled obsidian where Stolas had met his end. There was a shift in the atmosphere of the room from the detectable metaphysical markers that an angel and a Nephil had perished there.

Kivati reported back to Heaven that Astaroth had been involved in Itzamná’s death, and she requested permission to pursue, detain and destroy her. The response she received infuriated her: no further action was to be taken, for Itzamná had disobeyed when he left his post once again to save his daughter from an Apokomistis with a reputation like Astaroth’s. Rose hadn’t had much of a chance in the hands of any Apokomistis with an ellamadus. Had they not responded, Itzamná’s lifeforce would have remained in tact, and he wouldn’t have died. Without an ellamadus, Astaroth was no more dangerous than the average Apokomistis, and pursuing her wasn’t of the any immediate importance. Kivati was ordered to return to her post immediately and without complaint.

Kivati eyed the Ashera Didilak carefully in her palm. Her fingers closed around it, and she smashed it, obliterating one of the most powerful magical objects in ever in existence.

* * *

Adelaide was still unconscious on the floor of Svipul’s flat when Astaroth joined them. Svipul said, “I have an idea on how to tie up this Thomas Carver loose end. You can use the Ashera Didilak to—”

Astaroth interrupted, “I gave the Ashera Didilak to Kivati before I left the scene, and I’m sure that by now she’s turned it into a useless pile of metallic powder.”

“Why?”

“Stolas is no more. I will lay claim to all his territories and possessions at the soonest, after we’ve taken care of Thomas Carver.”

“But the ellamadus—your power would be unquestionable with it.”

Astaroth grinned. “My power is unquestionable without it. The only purpose it could serve in the future would be to deliver my own downfall, just as it did for Stolas. The only reason one ever needs a ladder after one has ascended to a rooftop is if one has the intention of coming down. I have no intention of ever relinquishing my title of Queen, and I no longer require the ladder that allowed me to reach this height. That, Svipul, is power.”

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part XI.

January 11, 2011, 07:14
Astaroth’s Wager, Part IX

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VIII.

An ellamadus is to white magics what a grimoire is to black magics. Unlike traditional grimoires that feature spells neatly written out in books or scrolls like the Lemegeton or the Picatrix, ellamadi are more like the grimoire known as the Orrery, in that they are objects that are meant to harness a specific type of energy and release it if one can unlock how to use it. They demand that its user possess a fluency in the manipulation of metaphysics that is magic, and without that basic knowledge, they’re just pretty objects. On account of their potency and immeasurable value to demons, any angel who came across one was on orders to confiscate and destroy it, and demons went out of their way to keep them out of the angels’ sight.

This particular ellamadus was known as the Ashera Didilak, which roughly translates to the children’s lament. When only its lower magics are unlocked, it endows its owner with the sort of metaphysical brawn that allowed Stolas to defeat Dantalion and become a King. Its higher functions include summoning magics, which are far more complicated than you might think, for although summoning a demon is relatively easy, summoning an angel, human or hybrid creation isn’t, and they can reunite all the members of a family, including angels. It’s a highly useful tool for parents, which is why it can be a bane to the offspring of its possessor.

Astaroth gingerly handled the Ashera Didilak. She uttered a few words in a long-lost language that made the orb emit a pale lavender glow in her palm. It lit up her face, emphasizing the lines of menace that flanked her smile. She said, “Stolas is an even bigger idiot that I could ever ever have imagined. It was common knowledge that he had an ellamadus, which was just what I needed, but this changes everything. Come to think of it, it might have been wise of him never to advertise that he had the Ashera Didilak. I’d’ve come after it centuries ago.”

“What shall I do now, madam?” Caius asked.

Her eyes were still fixed upon the Ashera Didilak. She ordered, “Pay the proprietors so we can leave. I’m tired of Athens already. Regardless, we ought to leave before Stolas is finished with that boy and senses that something’s wrong. What’s worse is that the hotel maids haven’t cleaned this suite properly. It smells like all the parts of primates that I despise.”

“Where are we going next, madam?” Caius wondered.

“Oh, if only I cared that all the others are going to be upset for calling them back to me so soon. I honestly didn’t think I’d succeed this quickly. Anyway—find Svipul. We’ll meet her wherever she is, and wherever that is, book a suite for all of us that meets my standards. And make sure that it doesn’t reek of mammalian excretion, or this will be the last private errand you make with me.”

Astaroth wasn’t paying attention to Caius’ nod of compliance, for she was entranced by the Ashera Didilak. “And Caius…”

“Yes, madam?”

“Mention none of this to Svipul. Let her believe that she’s ‘helping’.”

An old postcard of the Hotel Lenox.

Svipul and her Neku Kazuko had been tracking down information about Rose Nielsen in Boston when Astaroth, Caius and the rest of her demon entourage took up at the Hotel Lenox. While Kazuko had gone off on her own to follow a lead, Svipul joined Astaroth and the others in the pretense of dining in the hotel’s restaurant. She looked rather pleased and declared, “Kazuko reports that—”

Astaroth glared at her, and Svipul went silent. It was clear that a silent exchange had begun between the two Apokomistai. Astaroth said, “Svipul, we must be more careful than to announce our future plans in public. Given the circumstances, I’d imagine that you’d be more panicked.”

Svipul had switched gears, and she followed Astaroth’s lead. “What were you able to find out about Itzamná?”

“It’s useless. I can’t defeat him. I’ll just have to negotiate with him,” Astaroth explained.

“And how do you intend to do that?” Svipul asked.

“The good news is that I have something that an angel wants. I’ll just have to arrange an exchange with him, like we’d discussed before, and maybe he’ll leave me alone. I was really hoping to get through 1936 without a battle,” Astaroth said.

“Where were you thinking?”

“Don’t play stupid. We’ve already booked the suite for the week, and I don’t want to make it too easy for him. Boston’s nice and public. Even kind of quaint. He won’t be at risk to spill the beans about what he is if we take the fight to him,” Astaroth replied.

Astaroth, Svipul and the others kept up the appearances of dining until the earlier hours crept over Boston. A few of the Nekus left to practice ill deeds upon a few of the humans who’d had the misfortune of lodging at the Lenox, and Astaroth and Svipul had retired to the suite. As the dawn was breaking, Caius reported to his mistress’ side. “It’s accomplished, madam.”

“Explain,” Astaroth demanded.

“Stolas believes that you stole his ellamadus so that you might use it to buy your pardon from Itzamná, madam,” Caius said.

Astaroth clapped her hands. “Excellent! Thank you, Caius.”

“It’s my pleasure, madam,” Caius answered.

“Oh, and Caius? Round up all the others. I need to see them now,” Astaroth said.

Caius did as she ordered, and all her Nekus returned to her suite. It didn’t matter to her who had betrayed her confidence to Stolas or questioned her strength against a Watcher, but after a few fiery moments, the only Neku left in existence within the entire city of Boston was Caius.

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part X.

January 4, 2011, 07:14
Astaroth’s Wager, Part VII

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VI.

It’s the solstice! Did you see the eclipse last night? Eclipses are always so beautiful. I watched it with Sidriel and Orifiel, a Cherub who helps me watch the Holloways.

As the Apokomistis is capable of manipulating his or her appearance, most prefer to assume a human form that resembles a wealthier, idealized version of his or her environment’s common denominator. Astaroth, too, used to shift according to her geographic location, but during the 1920s, she discovered a form from which she doesn’t often vary. Astaroth has ever since fashioned her appearance to resemble that of the Hollywood blonde bombshell in the prime of her youth. Her features are always perfectly proportional, and were it not for the delighted menace that accompanies her smile, she would indeed be beautiful. She most often appears to be wearing light-colored, tailored suit—eggshell is her favorite color—thus indicating that she is a woman who lacks for nothing.

An old postcard of the lobby of the Fairmont.

Of course, women who dress as such are frequently seen in the most lavish of surroundings, and she doesn’t disappoint. Thus, when Sitri had returned from his misadventure, he found her and Svipul, along with a sampling of their Nekus, in the penthouse suite of the Fairmont. He dismissed the Nekus and explained what had happened, along with expressing concern at remaining in a place so close to the action.

Astaroth wasn’t pleased. “Are you trying to make this more difficult for me? This could be considered a breach of your terms, and then you’d have to forfeit for the second time today. Your prize would be mine, which, I have to say, would be a lot easier than taking on Itzamná.”

“And Kivati,” Sitri added.

“There was no discussion about Kivati in our initial wager. If you want Kivati, you need to go after her yourself. I only agreed to one Watcher,” Astaroth said. “Tell me you weren’t stupid enough to let her identify you.”

“She grabbed me and transported me. She knows it was me,” Sitri said. “I know that I—”

“If you don’t keep that pathetic explanation you’ve been rehearsing to yourself, I’ll add your name to my list,” Astaroth threatened.

“So what’s your plan?” Sitri asked.

“I should think that you’d be aware that I want to win this wager. That said, what makes you think that I would tell you and give you the chance to spoil everything, just as you’ve done so far?” Astaroth said.

“Kivati will be looking for you. You should leave, Sitri,” Svipul stated.

“She’s right. You need to disappear. If you’re here, you’re only going to involve more angels. Why not check in with that Neku in Cyprus you’ve been baiting?” Astaroth said.

“Will you see that the terms are met?” Sitri asked Svipul.

“You have my word,” Svipul affirmed.

Without any further salutation, Sitri was gone.

Astaroth told Svipul, “There aren’t many options available to us now. Heaven knows that Sitri and I go way back, and they might already know I’m here. The Nephil isn’t likely to leave that primate alone. We’re going to have to recruit an Apokomistis who’s dumb enough not to suspect that he or she is our bait, and use him to draw out the Nephil and then the Watcher after. With them out of the way, I’ll be able to work on that primate.”

“Rose Nielsen is a talented Nephil. If Sitri’s to be believed, she knew that he was there before she got close to him. We have to believe that she’ll be able to sense us in her proximity. She won’t make the same mistakes that a younger Nephil would make, either,” Svipul said.

“She’s half-Watcher, yes, but she’s half-primate, too. We just have to appeal to her ‘humanity’ and offer her what she wants most, if only temporarily. What else do we know about Rose Nielsen?” Astaroth said.

“I’ll send my Neku Kazuko to find out everything on her,” Svipul offered.

“Svipul! I thought you weren’t supposed to help!”

“Sitri got two angels after us within half the day. What he doesn’t know…”

“…will cost him dearly.”

“And he’ll deserve it,” Svipul added, and she stalked off to converse with her Neku.

Astaroth called her Neku Caius to her. She said, “Tell the others that we’re leaving, and check us out of this hotel. Do assure them that we appreciated everything and make a reservation for this same suite for this same week next year. I’m coming to appreciate San Francisco in June.”

Stolas was an Apokomistis who lived in Athens. He was drawn as such in Collin de Plancy’s Diccionaire Infernal, and was so furious at the depiction that he was solely responsible for de Plancy’s subsequent fervor for Catholicism.

“Might I tell the others where we’re going?” Caius asked.

“No. Give them leave for exactly seven days to do as they wish and to await your instructions at their finish. You, however, are coming with me. Send a wire to Athens and make our usual booking there,” Astaroth said.

“Shall I notify Stolas that we will be at his doorstep?” Caius wondered.

“If you do, I’ll destroy you,” Astaroth replied with her unnervingly pleasant smile.

Happy Solstice! Merry Christmas! Happy Kwanzaa! If you and your family celebrate something different at this time, please accept my warmest wishes for a wonderful holiday. Dominus vobiscum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VIII.

December 21, 2010, 07:11
Astaroth’s Wager, Part VI

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part V.

Kivati had no time to waste. While Thomas Carver spilled out of the entrance of the Phelan Building, Kivati nabbed the Apokomistis in pursuit and transported the demon to the roof of the building.

She hadn’t recognized him at first, but as soon as she had him in her grasp, she knew that it was Sitri. She expected him to engage her in a duel, but he fought her just enough to break free and vanish.

Thomas had ducked into an alley. He hadn’t had a chance to react before the Watcher had materialized next to him, gripped his hand and brought him back to the boarding house.

Adelaide was flabbergasted. She had been instantly relocated from the kitchen to Rose’s room. Her fiancé gaped stupidly at her sudden appearance.

“I wish that we could ease you into this, but there’s no time,” Rose said.

Kivati’s entire form glowed to demonstrate her Grace to the humans. She said, “I am Kivati, and I am an angel of God.”

Kivati and Rose traded unimpressed looks, for both humans had passed out at the revelation of Kivati’s Grace. After a few long moments of silence, Adelaide had regained consciousness, and she shook Thomas until he blinked his eyes back into proper use. He uttered an impolite phrase as an indication of his disbelief.

“Are you really an angel?” Adelaide asked.

“Yes,” Kivati affirmed, and she allowed her form to radiate her Grace again.

Adelaide smacked Thomas on the arm.

“What was that for?” Thomas demanded.

“For cursing in front of an angel, if that’s what the glowing police officer really is. You also shouldn’t curse like that in front of the boarders. Or me, for that matter,” Adelaide said.

“Thomas, if you would, could you please tell us why a demon assumed your form earlier today, attacked Rose and was chasing you at your workplace?” Kivati asked.

It took Kivati and Rose much longer than they’d hoped for them to get an answer from Thomas. They had to provide explanations about angels, demons and monsters, as well as rehash what had happened when a demon pretending to be Thomas had showed up at the boarding house. Humans do have the worst time accepting that that which they call the supernatural actually exists. After a quarter of an hour, Thomas provided the details of his day.

“It has been a strange day. I got up before the sun this morning, and I went to the Western Union to wire some money to my sister in Kansas City. You see, sir, she and her husband have had trouble getting by since our parents passed and left her the family home, and she was worried that the bank was going to take it back. I got a second job at a grocer last month to help her out, in addition to helping Adelaide and I save for our own home after we’re married. My sister was sure that the situation was hopeless and that they’d be out on the street, but as luck would have it, I got a raise at my job at the Phelan. I had enough money to help her out with the debt on the house and still have a little extra for us,” Thomas explained.

“I’d gotten the day off from my job at the Phelan because I’d received a summons from the court for jury duty. I was selected immediately as an alternate juror, and before we were even called into the courtroom, the civil matter had been settled and we were dismissed.

“At that point, I felt that everything was going my way. I figured I’d head into work and clock in for the rest of the day. But as I was passing a luncheonette, I realized that I was hungry, so I stopped in for a bowl of soup.”

“It’s June, and you want soup,” Adelaide remarked.

“I love warm things on a warm day. Just like I like cool things on cool days,” Thomas said. “Back to my day—I was just enjoying my soup when a gangster came in and accused me of owing his boss seven thousand dollars because of a dice game. I don’t play dice, and I figured there had to be some mistake. It was strange, though. He knew where I lived and he knew all about you, Adelaide—”

Thomas related the entire conversation he’d unknowingly had with Sitri. “And an hour later, he showed up at the Phelan and threatened me. I ran. I have no idea what I’m going to say to Mr. Leonard about running out in the middle of a workday. He’s been really very kind to me, and I’m indebted to him after giving me the pay raise.” He hung his head. “I’m just a coward, plain and simple.”

Kivati said, “Don’t worry about your job. I will speak with him in the guise I have now and clear the matter up for you.”

Rose added, “And you’re not a coward. That demon would have destroyed you if he’d’ve caught you.”

“So that was a demon—no joshing? Why is he after me?” Thomas asked.

“We don’t know,” Rose said. “But we’re going to keep an eye on you until we can figure out what’s going on.”

Rose agreed to stay with Adelaide and watch her for the rest of the day, and Kivati escorted Thomas back to the Phelan and had a word with his employer Mr. Leonard about the gangster. She gave Thomas’s boss a number of assurances that it was a police matter that was being handled. Thomas was permitted to return to work, and Kivati remained close by, albeit in various disguises.

Itzamná was given half an hour of leave to check on his daughter. He had a few extra moments remaining before he was due back at his post, and so he joined Kivati in the watch over Thomas. Itzamná said, “So it was Sitri?”

“The one and only,” Kivati answered.

“You know what it means if he’s making a public appearance, don’t you?” he asked.

“It means that in all likelihood, Astaroth is around here somewhere,” she said.

“We’re of one mind, then,” Itzamná said. “We need to figure out what she’s doing here and why, because it’s just a matter of time before she’ll strike hard.”

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VII.

December 14, 2010, 07:07
Astaroth’s Wager, Part V

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part IV.

All the while Astaroth, Sitri and Svipul were on their way to Market Street, Rose Nielsen was interrogating Adelaide Grayson about her betrothed. Adelaide, her mother and grandfather were beyond baffled at what had taken place. They were all struggling to accept that Rose was adamant that Thomas hadn’t been Thomas, and that the false Thomas had attacked her. Mrs. Grayson had already called for the doctor to come round and have a look at the gash in her arm, despite Rose’s insistence that she would see her own doctor at the soonest. The bleeding had stopped, but the cursed magics in Sitri’s blade were turning Rose’s wound black and causing pieces of flesh to crumble off her arm like charcoal.

Rose had called out to her father, and Itzamná answered. He appeared at the boarding house, posing as a doctor. He brought with him another Watcher by the name of Kivati, who had adopted the semblance of a police officer. Kivati gathered as much information as she could on Thomas, Adelaide and her family while Itzamná worked on Rose’s wound. Unfortunately, neither he nor Kivati had the gifts to repair the damage that had been done by the cursed blade. Rose understood the situation very well. She told her father, “There’s no time to argue about this. Either you do it, or I’ll do it myself and make a mess of it. I’ll be able to heal up afterward.”

Itzamná hesitated for a few moments, but in the end, he applied a quick stroke to her elbow with his steel. Nephilim heal quickly from physical wounds, and by the end of the evening, a human would have assumed that she’d lost her forearm at least a month before.

Now—please do understand that back in those days, we angels all had very specific roles to fill. Watchers had some of the most thankless roles of all the Orders, and they were made to answer to Dominions, the Order responsible for the management of processes within Heaven and the Universe. Every Watcher found it torturous to watch and not intervene, and every last one of them disobeyed and was reprimanded for his or her actions on more than one occasion. I don’t blame them. It’s torturous being here now as an Archangel and not being able to do much of anything. Most of the time, many Dominions were directly supervising Watchers who hadn’t followed their directives and disobeyed.

Itzamná had been on a particularly short leash at the time, considering that he had been tasked with extra duties as punishment for partnering with a human and fathering a Nephil. It pained him to have to depart from his wounded daughter after less than an hour with her in order to carry out his duties as a Watcher. He promised his daughter that he would return as soon as he was able and help her hunt down the demon who attacked her, and he left her in Kivati’s care.

Kivati, however, hadn’t recently been censured by Heaven at that time. She presented what she had learned of the attack to the Dominion who was her supervisor, and she was given permission to follow Rose, determine the reason for the attack and dispatch the demon who had perpetrated it. Kivati made sure that Rose and everyone else at the boarding house were in no imminent danger and went out to find Thomas Carver.

An old postcard of the Phelan Building. It’s still an impressive architectural feat today.

Kivati didn’t have much reason to hope for Thomas’ safety. Over the millennia of observing humans, she had learned that, under normal circumstances, an Apokomistis who masqueraded as a human had already executed some evil upon that human and was merely tying up loose ends. Adelaide had supplied the address of Thomas’ employer: he was one the elevator operators for the Phelan Building on Market Street, one of the lovely architectural gems from the reconstructive years following the Great Earthquake of 1906. Maintaining her cover as a police officer, she adeptly materialized within the lobby of the Phelan Building so as not to attract any attention from the many humans in the area.

She’d arrived just in time. Thomas was being chased out of the elevator and through the lobby by an Apokomistis, and she gave pursuit.

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part VI.

December 7, 2010, 07:01
Astaroth’s Wager, Part IV

Back to Astaroth’s Wager, Part III.

I hope you can forgive me for not providing a chapter last week. I am thankful that I don’t require planes for transportation. They’re so loud, slow and confining. Anyway—back to business now.

Astaroth directed the driver of her car to take them to Market Street to placate her frustrated companion. She stared at Sitri with a mockingly pleasant smile on her face for the longest time.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” Sitri asked.

“Because you’re going to lose,” she answered. “And you know it. You haven’t thought this through at all. I must say, this is your poorest effort in at least five hundred years. You’ve admirably demonstrated that the only hopeless one in this entire affair is you.”

Sitri didn’t suffer insults lightly. He had his steel at the ready, and he drew it from its scabbard with a menacing slowness. He said nothing, but his intentions were clear from his scathing expression.

“You’re not going to attack me,” Astaroth said. “You’re going to do better than this. Going through his life and systematically eliminating the things that are going well for him isn’t the answer. It didn’t work on Job, and it’s not going to work on him.”

Sitri remained silent and ready to attack.

“You want your favorite London property back, and I want that smug little primate to realize that hope is as mortal as he is. Make him suffer, Sitri, or admit defeat now and present me with a wager,” Astaroth said.

“I’ll do fine without my property on Tottenham Court Road. You won it fairly, and I would appreciate the opportunity to win it back fairly in the future. You were right, Svipul. You can’t make a human lose hope in twenty-four hours without resorting to cliché. And you know as well as I do that the Nephil I injured back there is Itzamná’s daughter. He’ll be looking for me. I’ve got bigger problems than this petty little wager,” Sitri said.

Itzamná was a Watcher. He was stationed in Mesoamerica and was spotted by the Mayans. They revered him as one of their gods.

“So you admit defeat?” Astaroth said.

“Yes.”

“What is my wager then?”

“You have a month. Since you set me on this task, you’re now going to deprive that same smug little primate Thomas Carver of all hope—since he seems to be more than just a bee in your bonnet—and you’re going to get rid of Rose Nielsen and Itzamná before they find out what this was all about and come looking for us,” Sitri said. “And I’m going to lay low and let you do all the heavy lifting.”

“And what will I receive upon success? Getting rid of an angel and his Nephil is likely to provoke an angry response from Heaven, and I’ve worked very hard to keep Michael off my back. I don’t want to end up anywhere near the top of his list again,” Astaroth said.

The car went silent while Sitri made his offer telepathically.

Astaroth’s smile was wickedly delicious. She squealed and said, “Are you really prepared to cede that title?”

“If you can actually accomplish it, and get Itzamná out of the picture? Absolutely. You’ll have earned it,” Sitri said. “But I’ll warn you now: you’re going to fail with Thomas Carver.”

“Why are you so confident of that?”

“Because he understands something that you never will, Astaroth,” Sitri said.

Astaroth rolled her eyes.

Sitri demanded, “Do you find the terms of our wager to be fair, Svipul?”

Svipul responded, “A month to get rid of an angel as strong as Itzamná? That’s hardly fair, considering that you fouled up a simple wager, Sitri. You didn’t have to attack a Nephil and bring angels into this. She needs adequate time to put a plan in place. Otherwise, we’re all going to be in for it, and I don’t want Michael or any of the Cherubim or Seraphim on my back, either. Give her at least a year.”

“A year, then,” Sitri agreed. “I’m still going to Market Street, though. I do rather enjoy making Thomas Carver believe that gangsters are after him. He should be back at work by now. Are we agreed to the terms of this wager, Astaroth?”

“Agreed,” Astaroth replied.

Dominus tecum.

On to Astaroth’s Wager, Part V.

November 30, 2010, 06:55