Chapter 17 – Ithuriel
The Malebolge: The Trench of Thieves
“W hat’s that sound?” Jess whispers over the increasingly loud hissing coming from ahead.
“Snakes,” I reply grimly.
The Nephilim snorts. “On a plane?”
“In a trench,” Sariel says with a smirk.
I look at first one, then the other, shaking my head in my puzzlement. “What are you two talking about?”
“Mature things,” the Fallen drawls.
I roll my eyes at him. “I hope a snake bites you in the ass.”
Jess chokes on a startled laugh while Sariel flat-out guffaws. “That’s not very do-no-harm-unto-others, Itha,” he chides and my lips tug up.
“Well, Itha already got poisoned on this excursion, Sar, I think it is your turn.”
We pin the mortal with our gazes before Sariel bursts into motion, leaning down and throwing her over a shoulder in one smooth motion. Her laughter bounces from the desolate rocky landscape as she ineffectually hits the Fallen’s back with her open palms.
I wish I could touch them so freely.
Stopping, I look at my dusty boots. Where did that thought come from? While I often preferred my mortal form over the more common ethereal one, I never saw the point in casual physicality. Why does watching Sariel and Jessica play make me yearn to experience it for myself?
I remember what else I watched them do and flush. Every time the thought enters my mind – and it is often – I feel a little bit less guilty. That is the slippery slope of sin. It insidiously makes itself at home in your heart and before you know it it’s taken over.
“Hurry up, slowpoke!”
My fists ball at my side as I pick up my steps again. I have never wanted things that were bad for me, or even that just did not enrich my existence in some way. I never considered that perhaps it would be things that are bad for me enriching my existence.
“Where’s your head at?” Sariel asks once I catch up. Jess is now perched on his back, her legs wrapped around his torso like a baby lemur. I raise an eyebrow at her instead of answering the Fallen’s prying question.
“I’ve decided I’m staying away from the snakes. I should be safe atop my prancing Pegasus.” A beaming smile lights up her face. “See what I did there? Cuz he has wings?” She seems so proud of herself that I only purse my lips, keeping my thoughts to myself.
Sariel isn’t that considerate though. “I don’t take prancing as a compliment, love. You might just find yourself bucked off your horsie if you’re not careful.” He tempers the threat by caressing her arms, crossed at his chest and my chest squeezes with yearning.
Sariel and I didn’t touch to evoke sensation but we did lean on each other. Sit back-to-back so we could each enjoy our own tomes. I haven’t interacted like that with anyone since he fell, afraid to potentially feel the same dangerous emotions again.
Angels do not fall often, but when they do, it’s a devastating loss for Heaven. Sariel's falling was a devastating loss for my heart.
The Fallen spins, using Jess’ hip to nudge me. “You’re extra mopey today,” he comments as Jessica turns beet-red. “Do you want to climb on, too? The only snake threatening you then will be the one in my pants.” A giant grin overtakes his face as my face heats up as well.
“Hey, don’t go offering rides to other people, pony,” the mortal interjects.
Sariel’s brows climb up. “And why not?” he asks. “I’m hung enough for both. I mean, horse enough for both,” he corrects himself, obviously insincerely. My eyes involuntarily drop to his crotch, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by my wicked companions. Their laughter once again drowns out the malevolent sounds of the hissing snakes and whimpering sinners.
Before either can comment on my orbital faux pas, the trench’s sinners and their punishments come into view. The air is nearly humming with the sound of thousands of reptiles tasting the air with their forked tongues as their scales glint in the eerie, dim blue light.
“Shit,” Jess hisses, the sound weaving seamlessly into the reptilian chorus.
Her wide eyes observe the animals coiling around the sinners, some of them keening, some screaming soundlessly, their mouths open, but no breath in their constricted lungs. She gasps as a snake bites a nearby sinner and they burst into flame, reforming into a grotesque, barely humanoid shape.
“What did they do?” she asks breathlessly.
“They’re thieves,” Sariel replies.
“I stole chewing gum from a store as a kid.” Jessica’s whispered words are full of dread.
“I wouldn’t say that any louder,” I murmur.
Both of them turn surprised eyes in my direction.
“Did you just make a joke?” the stupefied Fallen asks.
I shrug and face the trench again. “I’ve been known to produce the occasional witticism.”
“And you’ve ruined it.”
I smirk at Sariel’s grumbled words, enjoying Jessica’s amused chuckle. We can’t stand here joking around all day; we must find a way through. This is the seventh bolgia – we’re nearly done. The mortal has come too close to death one time too many. There’s a path leading through the trench, but patrolling it are winged demons armed with long spears.
“Friends of yours, Sariel?” My voice comes out sounding somewhat sour.
“No,” my former friend drawls. “They don’t look like they’d be any fun in a brothel on a Saturday night.”
I feel nauseous even as the Nephilim smirks. “I wouldn’t mind meeting the ones that are.”
She might not mind Sariel’s philandering ways, but my mouth still tastes sour. What is this feeling again? I feel like I’m losing all sense of identity in this place, just as these thieves are, metamorphosing into unrecognizable shapes in front of our eyes.
“I don’t think I’ll subject you to them, poppet,” the Fallen purrs, indifferent to the war within me. “As for these demons, I say we give it a good old fake-it-until-you-make-it try.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Just that walking in like you own the place works ninety percent of the time.”
“You want to just casually stroll through?” Jess frowns down at Sariel, her cheek pressed against his temple.
He turns his head without warning, bringing their lips an inch apart. “Hold on to your bra straps, honeybunches.”
The girl’s dazed eyes are heavy-lidded as she whispers: “I’m not wearing a bra.”
“I know,” he breathes back, just as quietly.
I tug at my collar. “If you two are done flirting…”
Sariel faces me with a smirk. “Jealous?”
I growl under my breath. “Cease ascribing emotions to me.”
Heaven help me, I am jealous. This sour, burning feeling is jealousy. I’m just not certain whether it’s him I am jealous of, or her.
“Both.”
I startle. “Excuse me?”
Sariel gives me a deadpan look. “I was answering Jess. She asked who the threat was; the snakes or the demons.”
Oh.
“But the demons elsewhere ignored us,” she says through a pout.
He reaches up to tug on her bottom lip and she waves him off, cringing. “That could’ve gone either way,” he murmurs distractedly, still looking at her lips.
“Let’s go,” I growl, leaving them and their damnable tension behind.
“He likes to walk away in a huff, doesn’t he?” Jess whispers, probably thinking I can’t hear her. Just like she thought I couldn’t hear her and Sariel at that cliff’s edge before we found ourselves in The Malebolge.
The fallen angel snorts and I hear his footsteps begin to follow mine. “It’s almost like he’s running away from something, isn’t it?” he says breezily, knowing well I’m listening.
Jessica scoffs and I can almost see her rolling her eyes in my mind’s eye. “Yeah, us.” She’s playing right into his hands.
“You think so?” Sariel asks with a heaping of mock innocence. “Are we that scary?”
“We’re that sexy,” she giggles. They’re going to be the end of me. “Giddy up, horsie, he’s getting away.”
“He knows there’s no getting rid of us, poppet.”
By the time I reach the first sinners, they’re back at my heels. We’re not going anywhere in a hurry though. Three armed demons are blocking our path, their features hidden behind heavy helmets, their brutish muscles covered by grimy armor. Their menacing spears are pointed at the air and they look right through me, as if I’m not even here.
“Are you Lord Sariel?” one aims the question over my shoulder, speaking with a voice rusty from disuse.
“Well, it’s not her,” the Fallen replies, stepping to my side. No, a step ahead of me. As if to shield me with his body. As if he cares about my safety.
“Master Ashtaroth has sent word of your presence,” the demon continues, not commenting on the snark.
“Has he?” Sariel drawls. He sniffs the air theatrically. “I thought I smelled Aim in the air.”
“What is aim?” I ask, puzzled, ignoring the demons as much as they seem to be ignoring me.
Jessica sighs, lifting one hand to her forehead to act out a swoon. Unfortunately, that means her other arm is now choking the Fallen who's back she still clings to. “Spymaster hottie,” she moans.
“Jessica,” Sariel grits out through clenched teeth, blindly searching for her arm with his own.
“Oh, oops!” She leans forward and restores his airflow.
Sariel clears his throat a few times, shaking his head. “Aim is Father’s master of intelligence. Officially. Assassin unofficially.”
I ignore his epithet for the archdemon. Perhaps I’m getting used to it. “I see. The demon lord?”
“The hottie,” Jessica nods fervently.
“I know of him,” I murmur.
The demons have been turning their heads, following the conversation, sizing us up. It must be terribly dull here, torturing the same sinners for centuries.
“What did the hottie say?” Sariel asks the demons, making Jessica laugh again, a melodic tinkle that has the torturers looking at her. I clench my teeth and move closer to my old and new friend.
The demon bows in Sariel’s direction. “We are to ensure your safe passage through this trench.”
The Fallen rubs his hands together. “Wonderful. Lead the way out.”
With a quick nod, the demons turn and form a line. The snakes and lizards skitter and slither away from their path.
“Did not expect this,” Jess whisper-shouts.
I catch Sariel’s dark eyes. We look at each other for a moment before the corner of his lips twitch up. “Why don’t you watch our backs?”
“He can’t see your back, Sar, I’m covering it.”
Laughing, Sariel follows the departing demons. “Arma would have loved you,” he tells her bitterly. He glances back at me before adding: “Probably both of you.”