Chapter 14 #2
“Second, you’ll acknowledge the prophecy.
It doesn’t matter how you say it. Tell them you’ve heard the legends.
Tell them you understand the lore. Explain that you’re on the same page, conceptually.
Find those most affected by this new religion and its spread: the Phoenicians and their usurped land, the Romans and their smashed temples.
The Gauls, Franks, and Bretons have been watching this monotheistic faith spread.
Everywhere it goes, it tears down temples, builds houses of worship, leaves robed monks, and erases centuries of power and tradition from the regional deities.
Look them in the eye and tell them you understand their outrage.
They’ve watched pantheons fall and they’re afraid. ”
I looked toward my chamber door as if staring into the stadium.
“Who’s out there?”
“All of them,” she said. “The angry. The fallen. The usurped.”
I drummed my fingers against the desk. “So…eight, nine pantheons?”
“All of them,” she repeated. “A representative from the Shinto pantheon, an ambassador from the Orisha, a spokesperson for the Mayans. I even believe Nanook is in the audience, should you spot an enormous bear.”
She continued to list gods and names, the likes of which I’d never heard.
Those personally impacted by the new religion’s spread, like our friends in Canaan and the enraged Grecians, had come for their pound of flesh.
Deities from other corners of the world, or at least the appointed fae spokesperson from their pantheon, were a surprise.
“What’s the third thing?”
She looked down at her scroll, then turned it around for me to see.
Five blocky words took up the entire page.
Tzipporah anticipated my visceral response. She took a casual step out of the way as I pushed off from the desk.
I had one low, growling, argumentative syllable out before she lifted a finger.
She, a Hell-born imp with no title, no family, and nothing to lose, shushed her Prince.
My anger evaporated, if from sheer amusement.
She was all backbone, no panache. It was winsome as fuck.
If I survived the day, I’d give her a full-time job as my court advisor, solely for the knowledge that she’d have the biggest balls in the palace.
Finger still lifted, she said, “Let me finish.”
At least I was walking into my execution with the coolest imp in Hell. “Give them what they want. That’s your plan?”
“This religion they fear—their Christ—it came with a predetermined adversary. Gods went from revered and thriving, to discarded and banned overnight. We’ve never seen anything like it. They’re clinging to this legend—”
I scoffed. “It’s barely obscure folklore.”
“They’re clinging to this lore,” she amended, though the irritation as she emphasized the supplemented word was enough to win me back, “because it is the hope they need. It doesn’t matter if it’s lore, mythos, or prophecy.
They have no options without it. So, go.
Be with her. We all know what she looks like, now, anyway. ”
Every muscle in my body contracted in a visible flinch.
“Her soul has quite the aura. Out of, gods almighty do they breed, how many are there now?” She folded her arms, tapping her foot as her gaze went up and to the side.
“Three hundred million? You couldn’t have picked an emerald soul?
A sapphire aura? It had to be this cloud-bright shimmer? That’s on you.”
I took to pacing. “So, I am on trial.”
“No. And that brings me to my final point.”
My steps slowed. I stopped a few feet away from Tzipporah, meeting her eyes. “Get on with it.”
She went to the desk and slipped her crimson fingers around the scroll.
She rolled it tightly, then stuck it into a compartment somewhere on her back—a bag, a pocket, for fuck’s sake maybe she was holding it with her forked tail—before settling against the wooden lip, just as I had mere moments before.
She shrugged. “Kill them.”
A single, breathy chuckle. I wasn’t wrong to like her. “Excuse me?”
Only one shoulder lifted and dropped this time.
“Get out there. Remain unapologetic. Tell them you understand their fear. Reassure them that you’ll be with your human from this point forward, as your presence in her life is your wish as much as theirs.
And then explain that, now that you’ve complied, anyone who hurts your human will face whatever wrath you see fit. ”
I pressed my fingertips into my temples. “They won’t…”
“They will. Have everyone press their fingertip to the treaty before they leave.”
“Tzipporah, not to be rude, but—”
“But I’m just an imp.” She headed toward the door. She yanked it open with one swift motion, then plunged her hand into the pool of shadow within the hallway before someone standing guard handed her an object. She jerked her head toward the corridor for me to follow, then disappeared into the hall.
I was several paces behind by the time I reached the hall. I could scarcely make out the flick of Tzipporah’s forked tail in the torchlight as I jogged to catch up to her.
I followed her, as if she was the palace’s resident and I was the stranger. She remained silent as we crossed the length of the grounds.
We heard the cacophony of noises long before reaching the stadium.
Perfumes, oils, musk, inborn fragrance, handheld incense, balm, hit me like a wall. Too many gods, too many smells, too many sounds, too much energy, too many beings who didn’t belong in Hell.
I was suddenly grateful for Tzipporah’s smooth gait as she led us to the dark chute with one dim light at the end of the tunnel. Through there, we’d reach the stadium. Through this tunnel, specifically, I’d bypass the audience and march directly to the center, alone and on display.
“Ready, Prince?”
I shifted my jaw from side to side. “I hate this.”
Her apathy cracked for the barest of moments as she gave me a glimpse at underlying amusement. At last, it was time for me to see what she’d retrieved from the hall before marching me to Hell’s funeral.
The object remained behind her back. “Do me a favor.”
“To one day walk in the shoes of someone with your boldness…”
She procured the object. A black, thorny ringlet. A crown.
I took it from her, frowning at the circle.
“It’s an emblem for them.” She waved to the nebulous others. “Their prophet wore one for his martyrdom. It was brown, earthy, and—”
“And I’m no martyr.”
Babbling languages splashed over one another, a river of energy splashing down the hall as the throng awaited me.
I looked at the circlet, then back at the imp. I settled it onto my forehead, unflinching as a thorn bit into the flesh at the crown of my head.
“Kill ‘em,” I said.
Her smile was bigger this time, though her teeth remained behind her tightly shut black lips. “Give them Hell.”