"Well just lookie what the cat dragged in. Don't you look a state, love, that ritual sure did a number on you."

I'd barely made it down the dark stairs and into the dim orange light of the hollow that was the Inquisitor's former lair, and already he was insulting me. It was almost like old times.

"It's nice to see you again too, Frank," I said with a roll of my eyes in his direction before I turned to take my first real look at our new surroundings.

In all fairness, it wasn't much to look at. Most of the wide, low ceilinged hollow was cast in shadow. Four large hurricane lamps glowed with dark orange flame in the centre of the room, radiating a small amount of flickering light, just enough to throw off the night-vision that had kicked in halfway down the long staircase. Even as my eyes adjusted to the low lamplight, there was nothing really remarkable to see.

It looked, very much, like the rest of Hell in its construct; I suppose there is not a huge number of options in style when it comes to a massive network of caves and hollows, especially when aesthetics aren't exactly high on the priority list. Most of the demonic races would choose to add a certain few 'homey' touches to their respective quarters of Hell, some personal comforts whatever those might be, but the Inquisitor's quarters were decidedly barren. Either they had taken everything they owned with them when they left for Earth, or they'd cared so very little for anything physical that the stone hole in the ground had been all they'd wanted.

The only particularly notable feature in the room was at it's very centre, upon which those hurricane lamps flickered and spat sparks, an enormous table. Carved of stone of course, like everything else, but as I drew closer the detail of its design began to stand out. Every inch of the surface of the thick, heavy limestone had been ornately carved in incredible intricate detail.

I took a step closer in order to study the design more clearly and had to suppress a shudder as I took in the dozens and dozens of carved faces, all contorted and twisted in unbelievable pain and horror. I stared, transfixed on each unique face as they screamed in silent terror.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

The words right beside my ear might once have made me jump, but I was mesmerised by the carving and could not tear my eyes away.

"Not sure that's quite the word I'd use, but it's certainly something."

With a tentative hand I reached out and brushed my long fingers across the carved ridges of rock. I tracked the twisted mouths, inlaid with smooth red jasper, and the glimmering eyes that shone in the burning torchlight, perfect spheres of obsidian. I closed my eyes for a moment, losing myself in the tactile sensation of the smooth contours as flashes of their faces appeared in my minds eye. Their screams had been real, the blood they spat red and warm, crying salty tears of pain and despair.

"What are you doing, Rayne? It's a little disturbing," Lucas asked. Even with my eyes closed I could hear the puzzled expression he was wearing through the quavering tone in his voice.

I hadn't intended on responding to him, not just yet, and Frank shushed him quickly by remarking, "just let her see." And I was seeing. Not nearly as clear as when my hands had touched living flesh, but every one of those carved faces held their own semblance of memories, and I think I was actually beginning to understand a little of this new power of mine.

"They were all people, every single one of them. Real people. That's why they're all different."

"What is she talking about?" Lucas addressed his question to Frank, as if the words that came out of my mouth could no longer be trusted.

I snapped my eyes open and glared at him in frustration. Why couldn't he just understand the way Frank seemed to, it wasn't as if it was something I was truly capable of explaining, at least not so that he would fully comprehend what was happening. Hadn't Frank let him in on anything while I'd been gone?

"The faces, they're all real. They were real people. Each one is different because it was modelled on a real person." It was the most basic of explanations and didn't really tell him anything he wanted to know. The trouble was, I wasn't sure I had anything else I could really tell him, I still didn't fully understand it myself. Frank really was going to have his work cut out trying to make us understand what was going on. I just hoped he really did know more than we did.

"Every one of them a victim, or a condemned soul, whichever way you want to look at it."

Frank looked far too cheerful to be discussing such a subject, and the way he stared at me, his black eyes gleaming and sharp grey teeth bared in a fierce grin, made me even more anxious.

"The carvings were like their trophies. I'd heard tell somewhere that they'd added a little blood from each victim to the stone as they made their likeness. One of the few rumours about the Inquisitors we can now confirm is actually true. Sadistic bastards." His final words were laced with admiration, I wasn't surprised.

"And how do you know that all of a sudden?"

"Because she could see them." Frank looked at me proudly, the way a father might look upon his child – if that father just so happened to be an immense creature of infinite horror, and the child were literally the spawn of Lucifer.

"I still don't quite understand, how does that tell you anything?" I asked. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew a little of why, touching flesh and blood had been what triggered my power before, the traces of blood in the carvings, though long dried up and dead, still remembered. I knew the purpose of my renewed existence, I was beginning to comprehend my new powers even, but I still didn't get how this helped any of us. How did I go about exacting these changes in Hell that the prophecy told of, and like most things I got the impression that it wasn't going to be simple.

"Have you really not figured it all out yet, love?" Frank looked at me with disdain, though I suspected he was not at all surprised and just enjoyed being able to still feel superior. "Your new power? That whole bloody ritual we went through to give it to you? Haven't you put all the pieces together yet? Come on, I didn't think you'd need it spelled out."

I sighed. "Okay, Frank, we get it. We're not as perceptive as you, we don't know anywhere near as much as you always seem to. Why do you think we've kept you around for so long? Please, just cut all the preamble and tell us what it is you're obviously so desperate to gloat about having figured out. "

"Well, there you go, spoiling all my fun. Fine, I'll let you in on all my little secrets, but it'll cost you."

"Cost us what?" Lucas asked, and I really wished he hadn't.

"We'll talk about that later, but for now..."

With two long, crooked strides, Frank crossed the stretch of the small hollow and sat down – though it looked a lot more like he was folding himself up – in an immense chair; stone yet again, like everything else in the room.

The dark orange glow from the torches barely spread further than the surface of the table of the centre of the room – which I now noticed for the first time was strewn with files and rolls of parchment – so as Frank sat back the shadows swallowed him whole, until only the gleam in his pitch black eyes could be seen, and I just knew he was grinning.

Lucas and I hesitated for a moment before following Frank into the darkness at the end of the room. There were no more chairs and Frank took up the entirety of the one he sat on, so we both, with some reluctance, sank to the floor and gathered about his feet in some twisted, sinister interpretation of story time.

Frank chuckled in genuine amusement as we looked up at his towering demonic form that blended in so perfectly with the darkness. "Well isn't this nice, all gather round and listen to Uncle Frank."

I rolled my eyes, almost certain that in the darkness he wouldn't be able to tell. "Just get on with it. I know you've not just been waiting around for me to come back. What have you been doing, what have you managed to find out?"

"Patience has never been much your strong suit has it, love? Well, first things first it's now clear that the little bit of hocus pocus we performed actually worked. Not only are you obviously back, same soul new body, or whatever the fuck the technical terms might be. But you are also, undoubtedly the Revelator incarnate. How does it feel to be the stuff of prophecies and legend, love?"

"Honestly? Confusing, and a little underwhelming even. I thought this was going to be the big solution to everything, but I'm feeling just as clueless as ever. Not to mention this freak-show of a new power is a pain. Diving into someone's memory whenever they happen to touch me? Not exactly pleasant."

"You'll learn to control it, eventually." His words might have been true, but he could have made an effort to sound more confident about them. "You are the Revelator, love, it is your purpose to reveal the truth."

"That's all?" Lucas suddenly burst out, rising to his feet again. "We tied us all together with blood magic, we killed her, and this spectacular, Hell saving power she's got is truth? The fucking truth?"

I had to admit, when he put it like that, it really didn't sound in the least big powerful or impressive. If that was all I could do, how on Earth was I supposed to put a stop to Lucifer and his plans? I didn't think threatening him with knowing the truth was really going to have quite the effect we wanted.

"It's a little more complicated than that, you fool, calm down. Do you really think I'd have agreed to be involved in all of this if that was all there was to it? It's not about her knowing the truth, but being able to reveal it."

"To who?" I asked, who could we trust to support us in this? Who could actually make a difference?

"Everyone." Frank shrugged, a nonchalant raise of his steepled shoulders, but there was an undeniable glimmer of excitement as the orange flame caught in his black eyes. "We're supposed to be the beginning of something, the power to bring about change, but let's be realistic here, love, this wasn't a ritual to give you ultimate supreme power over Hell. We can't do the really big things alone, we need an uprising."

"A rebellion?" Lucas said, a hint of hope coming back to his own voice as he finally began to understand the potential of the power we now held.

"Hell's own personal Armageddon. If Lucifer is this corrupt you can almost guarantee the other faces are just as bad. Time to shake up this well-oiled corporate machine a little."

For the first time in a long while I felt eager, excited even to actually be a part of this. Perhaps I might even stop longing for the ordered simplicity of my old life, but there was still one dark cloud looming on the horizon that made me hesitate for a moment.

"What about Jesse?"

"What about hi? Lucas asked, scathingly.

"Will this work without him?He's a part of the Triangle, right? How exactly do you guys fit into the deal, can we do anything one aspect down?"

"We'll just have to. He made his choice, we don't need him now."

"Unfortunately, it's not that simple. We will need to get the meatbag back at some point, and that's not going to be so easy this time, love. He's not entirely human any more, he'll be onto all your powers of manipulation now. We can start things in motion without him, but without the human aspect we won't pack anywhere near the same kind of punch."

I got the impression that Frank had been a little reluctant to let us in on this little detail. Either he was enjoying our little moment of excitement, or he was feeling uncharacteristically clueless about how to fix this particular problem.

"Well, it sounds like we're going to have our work cut out for us then," I said, hoping I sounded optimistic, "Let's get on with it."