Angelus by Sabrina Benulis Page A

levels at this hour, and certainly wiser souls knew enough never to visit at all.
    Every demon in Hell knew what to expect here and what to fear.
    Sophia and Kim were nearing one of the most gruesome vestiges of Babylon’s customs during Lucifel’s reign.
    Kim stared straight ahead and refused to look to either side as the fog began to close in on them. Whenever the mists parted, it was only to reveal mounds upon mounds of skeletons. Some of them were demon skeletons, mostly children Kim assumed were born less than perfect. Others were dead Kirin or other terrible creatures from Hell that—for him at least—would always remain nameless.
    Setting his jaw, Kim tried as hard as he could not to concentrate on what surrounded him. The sight of the dead children, or “chicks” as the demons called them, tore at his insides.
    The angels hadn’t behaved any better in their past. From the heights of Heaven, deformed or less than desirable offspring had been thrown into Hell to fend for themselves or die. From the few survivors, the Jinn race had evolved. Kim was half-Jinn and he thought he looked normal enough.
    That kind of exactness and cruelty had always torn at his soul. Angels and demons considered themselves superior to all other creatures. No, he’d never understand it.
    Kim forced himself to keep riding. He and Sophia had almost arrived.
    Finally, they entered a tunnel in the deepest reaches of the city.
    The silence became absolute, except for the gentle paw strikes of the Kirin. Kim’s Kirin champed nervously as they navigated the narrow strip of stone bordering the Styx, and he had to use a few well-timed caresses to goad the beast into moving forward. They were down to a slow trot. Beside them, the water churned.
    Even the Kirin knew that to accidentally step into the Styx meant at the very least losing a limb to the acidic water.
    Yet that wasn’t the only reason he and Sophia had little to fear from spies.
    Every living thing sensed the demon who lorded over this part of Babylon. The very smell of the place usually kept any creature from entering. Finally, the Kirin refused to go ahead any farther. Kim slid off his mount and Sophia copied him.
    Together, they walked forward into the darkness, following the hieroglyphs marking the stone. Carved serpents andstern warnings glowed along their path. Ignoring both, they continued to march down, and down, and down. Behind them, the Kirin reared but didn’t bolt. They also must have thought their masters would change their minds.
    Sophia walked stiffly, barely looking at Kim. The Kirin’s frightened neighing echoed in the background.
    â€œAre you certain he knows we’re coming?” she said to Kim.
    Kim’s reply nearly drowned in the Styx now roaring past them. “Yes,” he said firmly.
    Sophia paused for a moment, a haunted expression on her face. Maybe she was rethinking everything. Kim had to admit, he’d been astonished at how swiftly she’d agreed to this plan. He’d barely needed to coax her into her Kirin’s saddle.
    The Styx boiled only a step away from them. Sophia glanced at the water, her eyes glazed and unreadable.
    One wrong move and they might fall in, helpless as the acidic water dissolved their bodies and bones to smoke. Kim wrinkled his nose. The vinegary air cut into his throat whenever he breathed. He had to focus to see the arching gateway that marked the end of the tunnel through the thick fog. He strode toward it, offering a guiding hand to Sophia.
    She shook her head politely, but stayed close by his side. Somehow the silence between them acted as a chain linking them together.
    Fear could be a powerful instigator of new friendships.
    Then they at last exited through the gateway and emerged on the eastern border of Babylon, its sky illuminated by faint orange globes. Their eerie light illuminated the far eastern crags of the unthinkably immense cavern cradling the city. Kim