31.5

 

Roisin looks at him properly. She knows he can feel her studying him but he’s allowing it anyway. She’s uncertain how many soul facets he had earlier, but she’s quite certain he has more now. A substantial amount more. She shakes her head slowly. “What did you do?”

Astaroth rests one ankle on the opposite knee and sits back. He looks like one of those living statues with the impossible balance, except she knows perfectly well he has a seat in another plane that intersects with this one. It’s just a trick. All magic is a trick, even if the illusionist is bending the planes of reality to do them.

He shrugs and holds his hands up in mock surrender “I killed the one who wrote the mantles.”

The room goes silent. Steve’s mouth falls open. Paul swears under his breath. Namaan recoils, taking a step back until his back is literally against the wall. The assistant looks up, an expression on her face that Roisin genuinely can’t decipher.

Roisin stares at him, unable to breathe. “You killed God?”

Astaroth’s smile is small, tired, and utterly without remorse. “I saw the opportunity and I took it.”

“But…” Steve is shaking his head. “God? Really?”

“It was a golden opportunity that has never come about before. With Hasmed broken – albeit temporarily – the attention of the Creator was distracted by trying to rewrite his instructions on the fly.” Astaroth winks at Roisin. “You really managed to rock the scales of balance with that one. I didn’t think it was possible; I mean, I hoped… but that you actually pulled it off is remarkable. Hasmed was never meant to take a mantle. He was never meant to want one. He looks at Roisin, a genuine smile on his face. “But when I killed the Author, the architecture was made unstable. The rules loosened. The permissions blurred.” He gestures to the air, as though showing her the broken scaffolding of reality. “Hasmed reached for your mantle at the exact moment Creation had no official owner.”

Roisin’s breath catches. “That’s how he was able to take it?”

“It was a split-infinitive, you could say. One of those ‘one in a billion chances but it might just work.’ Who could have predicted that two billions-to-one chances would not only occur, but would occur simultaneously? And all thanks to you, dear girl.”

She glances at Namaan, who has backed so close to the wall he is in danger of making a Nephilim-shaped hole in the plaster. Does this mean he can take the other mantles?”

Astaroth nods toward Namaan. “His, you mean? And the other horsemen? It’s possibly, but highly.”

“He could take anything.”

The angel shrugs again. “Theoretically, but he’s still only one angel, even with the mantle of Knowledge. He’s not all-powerful. There’s also the slightly relevant fact that there’s no longer a vacuum for him to take advantage of.”

“Are you God, now”? Steve looks at Paul, who despite pretending to be agnostic, clutches the little gold crucifix around his neck.

Astaroth’s laugh is as mellifluous as it is intoxicating. “Me? Certainly not.” He wipes tears of genuine mirth from his eyes, looks at his fingers and licks them as daintily as a cat would do. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d have taken control if I’d had the chance but compared to some of the higher angels I’m just a lowly admin assistant. I’d probably abuse the power for purely selfish ends.”

“So who has replaced God?”

“His First-born son, obviously.”

“Jesus, you mean?”

“No. Certainly not. He’s so far down the queue I doubt he’ll ever be the perfect little nepo baby he was destined to be. I don’t even think he’d want the job. There’s a lot of admin involved. And he’s more about you’re wandering about influencing decisions kind of guy. If you’re ever prayed to Jesus, there’s a better than nil chance he was listening to you.”

“So Hasmed? He was the Angel of Annihilation, after all. Is he still?”

“I doubt it. Hasmed has become unbound. As Justice he is now unruled. He is his own governance now, though he will have to relearn the architecture. All the rules are subject to change at a moment’s notice.” Astaroth’s voice drops. “He reached out to take the mantle in a moment of weakness and now his whole purpose has altered beyond anything he could have dreamed of. Not that angels can dream. No free will, you see. Without the guidance of the Framework, I expect he is terrified.”