Movement 23
Yasmeena
Everything happens all at once. The severed head is revealed, blood pooling onto the plate it rests on.
The eyes are closed. Its skin is red, with horns atop a white head of hair.
This half-demon is masculine. He honestly looks like…
well, like Draven. The entire room stands at once.
Draven holds up his sai, and Reina unsheaths a small dagger.
Flames erupt in Zada’s hands, the sudden heat filling the room.
My magic sizzles at my fingertips, and many of the demon governor’s wings expand, ready to fight or take flight.
Gabe doesn’t flinch for a moment, looking serene and calm amidst our horrified expressions.
“Explain yourself,” Luc says as his half-demon body starts to fade away, revealing the much scarier form that hides underneath. He is like smoke and ash, raw and untethered, and it chills me to my bones.
I stare back down at the head. Does Draven have a twin brother, or should I say did he? Is that someone else in their family?
Gabe claps his hands and both corners of his mouth curl up into a devious smile, clearly amused with this show of violence. I can’t tell if this is an attack from The Legion, or merely a vicious threat from one of the other governors. All signs are pointing to Gabe.
“Do you like it?” Gabe asks. “Sit down, calm down. It’s just cake.”
I can feel the tension in the air ease, everyone’s bodies relaxing as we all take our seats once more. I kind of appreciate how devious this prank was, but I also want to punch him in the face.
“Didn’t you have pressing issues?” Zada asks, cocking her head, her long white hair flowing down her back.
“That was my pressing issue. I’ve been experimenting with new methods of baking and wanted to trial it here for all of you first,” he says. “Isn’t it marvelous?”
Draven looks like he’s going to explode, but remains silent.
“It’s something,” Uri says.
Phaelyn snorts back a laugh. “Good one. I kind of like it.”
Luc’s form returns back to normal and everyone takes a collective breath.
Uri glares at his brother, equally frustrated with this mockery of an emergency. “No further updates?”
“Oh yes, sorry. I do,” Gabe starts. “The Legion has made its way onto my territory, and they’re setting things on fire.”
Well, that’s one way to send a message.
“What do I do?” he asks, scratching his chin.
This demon honestly thought cake was a more important thing to start with than domestic terrorism?
That’s absurd, but what do I know about leadership?
I just acquire information, I don’t make the rules.
If these governors ran their territories even half as well as Raph runs just the carnival alone, we wouldn’t be having so many problems.
Now, Raph’s continent suffers while trying to fix everyone else’s issues. He’s constantly taking in refugees and those in need. It’s honorable, sure, but it wouldn’t be necessary if these governors did their fucking jobs.
“Are children or the elderly at risk?” Zada asks.
Gabe nods. “I would say so.”
“Then you should try them for illegal murder,” Uri says.
Illegal murder, as opposed to regular murder.
I’ll never forget when I met Gemma, she told me all about Earth and how murder was practically always illegal there.
Maybe that’s for the best. There’s plenty of senseless killings that happen thanks to our laws.
Roxanne’s death was unnecessary and vile.
But I can also see how a land that’s overly-ruled could run its own risks. Corruption, injustice.
Sitting here in front of all our leadership, it’s clear that’s the bulk of our issues. Unjust leaders combined with cruelty from the upper-echelons of society; it’s an unhealthy mix. If every continent had a fair and altruistic governor, I think we’d be okay.
That would mean Raph, Zada, Uri, and maybe Gabe would remain. Josina, Cavan, and Micha would be replaced. By who? I have no idea. But the monarchy shouldn’t reign for much longer. Not unless we all wish for war.
“You can send them to us,” Cavan says, smirking at Josina.
“Wait a second, are these people protesting against decisions you’ve made? Perhaps you should consider… changing them?” Zada looks pissed as she glares at Gabe, who is normally more considerate than this. “What are they upset over?”
“That’s the thing, I have no idea. I haven’t changed any laws or implemented anything new,” Gabe pleads, desperation leaking into his tone.
“I recommend we break away into separate, smaller groups to continue these discussions. The weather is not ideal for traveling right now, so you’ll all have to depart in the morning,” Uri says, and everyone nods, clearly wanting this meeting to be over.
“Gabe, how about Raph and I help you with your problem? I think we can brainstorm how to please your citizens,” Zada chimes in. “We need to get to the root of the issue.”
Gabe smiles politely. “Please.”
I let out a breath, not realizing I was holding it. I fully expected Gabe to disregard his citizens’ wishes and try them for their crimes, but I’m glad he’s willing to reason. It’s a natural call and response.
If people feel strongly enough to protest or riot, a good leader would take action, finding ways to provide their citizens what they need, not punish them.
Everyone slowly exits the room. Standing in the doorway, I watch as Luc walks through the castle, a fluffy-as-always Beelzebub by his side as they head towards where the Queen Mother stands waiting at the end of the ornately decorated hall.
Leaning against the stone wall, I take a deep breath.
“Could I meet with all of you privately?” Phaelyn asks, looking at me and the other members of The Devil’s Masquerade.
“Of course,” Draven answers.
We follow Phaelyn and Draven down to a second, smaller room. It reminds me of the one in Luc’s building. A tighter space, but still comfortable enough for the six of us.
There is a portrait of Luc and his siblings on the wall.
Josina and Cavan stood next to one another, towering over the other children.
A very young Uri stood in front of them, not smiling.
Then there’s Lucile, a tiny Micha resting on her shoulders, and Zada in front of her.
Gabe is squished between Zada and Luc, who stood in front of their grandfather, Lucifer.
Lucifer looked serious. Wrinkles lined his features, and he was incredibly strong, reminding me of the statues we have in museums. There is no father in sight, and I wonder what happened to the father of our overlords.
There are no tellings of him in history books.
At least, nothing of substance. Just vague statements listing Lucile was married to another upper-echelon demon, but no further details.
It’s odd, honestly. There was more information on Tempest and me in the papers announcing our engagement, and we might as well be nobodies.
Taking a seat, I wait for Phaelyn to speak. “I have to meet with Gemma regarding the new project, but I wanted to speak to the lot of you first.”
“Uh-huh,” Absinthe says. She’s looking at Phaelyn with stars in her eyes, and I honestly can’t blame her. She’s a feminine, sexier version of Draven.
Long white waves flow down a slightly muscular back. Unlike Tempest and I, who are strong and buff, Phaelyn is softer.
“How is Nico?” she asks, and Draven and Gemma smile like two proud parents. They’re settling into their new role well.
“He’s excellent. Yasmeena’s fiancé is currently watching him,” he shares, and my mind starts picturing Tempest again.
Maybe she has Nico slung over her shoulders, enjoying the carnival with him. Or maybe she’s pacing a room, stressed about having to deal with the small child. I hope it’s the former and not the latter.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” she says, and then drops into a whisper. “I’m currently developing a mission. The only person who knows about it is Zada, so I would appreciate you not telling your leaders just yet.”
We all nod in a silent agreement.
“I’m working on a covert operation. I don’t know how many carnies I’d need to borrow, maybe a handful? We’d be going undercover on Avaricia—specifically to Hel’s Casino. I want to take the money Micha has been stealing and return it to his citizens,” she explains, and I freeze.
I’m terrified and impressed. It could cause a lot of problems. If Micha found out who did it, a war could come out of this, but it would also do so much good.
“It’s like Ocean’s Eleven!” Gemma says excitedly.
“Lower your voice,” Draven practically hisses. “No one understands your Earthly references, my butterfly.”
She scowls at him. “What about Robin Hood?”
“Not a fucking clue, babes,” Reina says, and I fight back a giggle.
“We’re doing a heist. A charity heist,” Gemma finally says, defeated.
Phaelyn nods. “Maybe. Not anytime soon, though. I have a lot of things to work through first. Fix your turf war and then we’ll talk? I’d love updates on Nico as well if I could.”
“Understood,” Draven says. “I love you. Stay safe and have fun planning your dance club. Be nice to my wife.”
Draven stands up and kisses Phaelyn’s forehead before moving back to Gemma and kissing her on the cheek. Absinthe and I follow out of the room, leaving Reina with the other two to finish their next set of plans.
“I’m going to speak with Luc regarding Josina and Cavan. We can’t keep letting them get away with these atrocities,” Draven says, and I salute him goodbye.
The hallway is quiet—so quiet I can hear the slow beating of my heart. The adrenaline of the last few hours has finally started to wear off, leaving exhaustion in its wake.
“They’ll serve us dinner in a few hours.” Absinthe isn’t wearing her usual jester makeup or outfit, and it’s jarring to see her appear so normal, decked in a grey suit that fits her feminine curves just right. Her skin is a lovely, medium pink. Not deep, but not pale. She’s beautiful.
It’s like a stripped down version of the half-demon I’m used to. Absinthe’s carnival persona is fun, but I like this too. It’s more authentic.
“Sounds good. Do you want to go out on one of the balconies with me?” I ask, and she nods.
Portraits and decorative figures border the corridor as we make our way down to a balcony entrance. I stop and take in some of the art. Heavy, gilded frames hold paintings of important events in Hel’s history.
Hel prior to The Convergence. The battle between Lucifer and the League of the Seraphim. Beelzebub’s first birthday celebration.
The last one gives me pause, but I guess if I were leader of an entire planet, I’d do whatever I wanted, too.
There is a gaudy, grotesque statue of a dying helhorse, and I shiver at the sight
I would think in the hundreds of years Luc has had to decorate this place, he would’ve developed a better sense of style.
It’s clear he’s chosen some of the pieces, and the Queen Mother has too, but other choices feel out of touch and antiquated, likely having belonged to Lucifer or even their predecessors before him.
Continuing down the dark marble floors, I follow Absinthe through a set of doors and out onto a balcony.
I know we’re safe. Logically, I know there’s no one around, but I still feel like eyes are watching me, tracking every movement.
The wind whistles a little too loudly, and there are fairy-like figures out at sea, beckoning us to jump—beckoning for us to join them.
“It’s beautiful, but also really creepy out here,” I confess, knowing the songs calling out to us are from the voices of souls.
“Agreed. It’s cool to interact with the other side, but it also reminds me of how short our lives really are. We’re just blips compared to demons.” Absinthe’s mouth twists. “I think about if I died right now, would I be satisfied? Would I have accomplished anything?”
“You’re amazing. You are a performer and you’re constantly making things,” I say, because it’s true. Absinthe is one of the most creative people I know.
“Thank you. But hardly anyone takes me seriously. I’m treated like I’m still a child, and yet I’m sent on these important missions with all of you. I just, I don’t know. I want to invent things. I want to find love. Hel, I want to live,” she says, her voice a desperate plea.
I give her my most genuine of smiles. “And you will. I want that too.”
“You want love?” She furrows her brows. “I thought all you cared about was saving the world.”
I shrug. “I want to save my people, but I want to build something for myself, too.”
“You should. You deserve it, Yasmeena.”
I think she’s right.