“I love you,” he whispered. A star bloomed and died near his face, leaving a streak of light across my vision.
“I love you, too,” I told him, tracing the contours of his face with one hand. Times like this, when Azazel stripped away his armor and stern countenance, were the best of times. It felt like floating in a night ocean, just the two of us under the stars.
His eyes were already heavy-lidded with sleep. “I promise,” he breathed, before they finally slid shut and his breath evened out.
I couldn’t sleep yet. He’d promised me he’d find them, and I believed him with every fiber of my being.
I laid awake for a long time, staring at the stars floating around the ceiling, with new worries chewing at me. Every time he dove into the deep magic, it was harder for him to come back.
How far would Azazel have to go before that darkness consumed him entirely, and he became a being of shadows and electricity, unable to retake this form?
It felt like hours had passed, but it was still dark when a soft rap sounded on my door. I carefully slid out from under Azazel’s arm and pulled on a simple black dress that only needed to be tied around the neck before answering it.
I wasn’t entirely surprised to see a hooded demon at my door. The Chainling’s namesake clinked softly from his sleeves as he looked up at me, eyes gleaming like marshfire under their hood, and spoke in a deep but quiet voice.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Lady. The Chain calls. It is time.”
10
Melisande
I spared a backwards glance for Azazel, but he was still dead asleep. The Chainling waited patiently, his hands clasped in front of him and covered by his robes.
I’d meant to talk to them, anyways. Maybe their holy Chain had been anticipating me, as well.
I nodded and crept into the hall, pulling the door shut behind me as silently as possible. A faint spear of guilt stabbed at me: the Chainlings had been following me for months, and I hadn’t taken the time to really understand them until now. All I knew was that they worshipped this mysterious binder of fate and destiny, and that they were a vague offshoot of the Grigori.
The Chainling turned and swept down the hall, and I followed obediently. When I caught up, the hood tilted in my direction.
“The Chain has chosen you for us to follow, but we have not yet given you our histories,” he said, keeping his voice low. The arena was nearly silent, only other Chainlings patrolling. Tascius and Belial were in the Ninth Circle, having answered a summons from Adranos. “You know only the superficial.”
I ducked my head, feeling the shame again. All their help, and I’d never bothered to find out. “Yes. I know that you were once part of the Grigori, but… that’s it.”
He nodded. “Our founders were once part of the Fates of the Grigori. It was through their strings that the original Chainlings discovered the unholy mysteries of the Chain, the power that links everything in the universe.”
We walked into a long, unlit passage, and the Chainling ducked his head as he spoke. “The disagreement between them created an insurmountable breach. The Fates believed that the strings were meant to be manipulated, that they were the masters of outcomes and possibilities. But our founders… they believed that twisting and weaving the strings was to defy the power of the Chain, and upset the delicate balance the universe had created.”
The Chainling pulled out a small candle and lit it, holding it aloft. I squinted down the empty hall, one I was quite sure I’d never seen before.
He looked at me, eyes glowing eerily under his hood. “When the Fates use their strings, they change outcomes. It could be a small thing, just the influencing of a decision from one course to another… but when that tiny change is made, the revision ripples outwards, starting in the strings and affecting the wider universe until the Chain itself shakes. That is why they chose to leave the Grigori; we believe it is our destiny to serve the desires of the Chain, not to force the Chain to serve our desires.”
He strode down the hall, motioning for me to follow him. There was a strange density to the air in the corridor, along with the faintest scent of smoke.
I kept close to the Chainling’s side, even though we were still in my own arena, surrounded by my own people. It was like the threshold had been a liminal doorway to another world, and I’d unknowingly stepped into it.
Either that, or it was the pull of the Chain I was feeling. I shivered a little at the thought of a sentient, universal force tugging at me, reeling me in like a fish.
“Our temple was destroyed by the emergence of the Great Red Dragon, but we do not worry or fear. The Chain had already chosen a new location for our temple, a sacred site,” the Chainling said without glancing back.
“It’s right under us,” I said, my lips feeling numb. “You’ve been building your new temple here the entire time.”
He nodded, casting strange shadows on the wall. “From the moment we stepped foot on this ground, we knew. The Chain rang out with the sound of joy that we had found our new home.”
If my stomach had been churning a little from nerves before, it was now a full-blown hurricane in there.
I should’ve known… even from the days of being called No Saint, of little girl demons dressing in paper and wire wings, the Chainlings had been there, silently watching and waiting.
Following the links in the Chain straight to me.
We reached a spiral staircase descending into a black pit. The Chainling started downwards without looking back this time. He already knew I would follow, and now it was a call that couldn’t be resisted, a thrumming energy building in my bones.
“We once had a queen,” the Chainling said mournfully. His voice echoed up and down the stairs, bouncing back in eerie echoes. “The Chain loved her deeply, but even it can’t change its own links. She was murdered, leaving us bereft of her light, and her followers were scattered when the original temple was burned.”
I realized after several more steps that we’d descended below the ground-level of the arena. This was uncharted territory for me, oddly terrifying in a way. Slight wisps of smoke filled the air, rising from the depths below.
“We’ve moved from place to place since, faithfully following the links. Centuries of wandering, finding a home nowhere… and nearly three decades ago, the Chain spoke again, louder and clearer than ever before.”
I looked at him in surprise, hardly noticing that the stairs had ended. “Three decades? But what does that have to do with… with me…” My words trailed off.
Three decades. My sense of time had become a little warped since my mortal death, but I’d only belonged to Heaven for three years. I’d been somewhere in my twenties when I’d died.
“Yes.” The Chainling looked up at me again, full in the face. “It was before the Apocalypse, before the razing of the earth. A mortal was born. The Chain already knew where her links led.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my throat. “How could you have known about me if you were in Hell and I wasn’t?”
The Chainling motioned towards an arched obsidian doorway. “We only had the vaguest knowledge that there was someone on earth who would become very important to the Chain, and that one day, she would join us. The Chain’s joy became our joy. And it was only by following the faintest of signs, the tiniest of omens, that we finally found you.”