I rushed to find legion in their barracks in sheol--a vast cave with a warren of tunnels worming through the walls surrounding it. A small pond of magma in the center provided light. Near it was a training field on which a few demons spared.

The place was too quiet. Though I had not searched the tunnels for those who might be resting, it was clear that only a small contingent of my troops remained. Had they deserted? That could be expected if I was gone too long. While my stay in the desert had seemed short, time in sheol could pass very differently than it did in the world of the living.

"Warlord on the premises!" I shouted. "To arms!"

At once my troops assembled, hovering in crystalline formation before me.

Lucius, my lieutenant with the with three arms, a serpentine tongue, and three cat-like eyes drifted to the fore and dropped on his knees before me.

"Master," He said.

"Where is everyone?"

"I sent Flavius and a group of others to watch the entrances to sheol. I knew that you would want to know whether your quarry, Mary of Magdalene, had died during your absence."

Of course, my legion could not leave sheol without me. Few could stray far from the barracks without my company. So they could not have watched Mary directly. Watching the gates was the logical move. Still, it surprised me. While Lucius was a good officer, I'd not known him to take the initiative or be clever. That was normally Sophistria's function.

And Sophistria was, hopefully, still inside Mary.

I focused my thoughts on Flavius and sensed his distant presences. He was at the grand portal made of marble and infernine through which most passed after death. "Spirit of Despair and Shame, I summon thee," I called out. "Meet us in the home of Mary of Magdalene."

Then, meeting the gaze of Lucius, I said, "Come."

We rose through the darkness, the screams, the mists, charnel smells, and smoke to Earth, to sunlight and cloudless skies. We floated down dirty streets where children ran, chasing each other and laughing, where lame beggars with leathery, sun-baked skin called out for alms, to Mary's home.

A small clay and stone room along a narrow street. Unremarkable from the outside, like the woman herself.

She wasn't there.

The small dwelling was tidy, the few clay pots set neatly against the wall. The rough wool blanket was laid neatly on the straw mattress.

Seeing no sign of her, I rushed to a nearby dwelling where one of her cousins, a blacksmith, lived. This dwelling was less in order. Half finished knives and axe heads, but it, too, was empty.

"Is it possible that she's dead?" I asked, not really thinking it likely. Where was Flavius?

Just as I was about to repeat my summons, my demonic lieutenant appeared at my side. He bowed at once. "My lord, I would have been here sooner but I assembled the others for a report. We have been watching the gates of sheol for you with all diligence. Mary of Magdalene has not passed before any of us."

I sighed. So, she wasn't dead.

"I have a bad feeling--" I said.

Focusing my thoughts, I found Jesus.

"Come," I said. "Let us see whether she has been taken to the Son of God for healing."

With that we launched into the air, gliding over rooftops and wide stretches of sand. A few corpses, as yet undiscovered by their mortal brethren, lay along the sandy paths. We ignored them.

When we arrived at the place where Jesus was, I gnashed my spiritual teeth. Mary of Magdalene lay on a mat before him, writhing and gurgling.

It was too late.

"Return," I said to my legion. "Take your positions at the gates and along the dark stair. It may be you can catch your fellow soldiers as the Son of God casts them out."

Lucius and Flavius bowed, then led the others down into the ground.

There was little for me to do but sit and watch the destruction of my plans. How had things gone so wrong? All I'd wanted to do was kill one human, a thing I'd done many times over in my career.

"Spirit, I command you," Jesus said. "Come out!"

Mary screamed and arched her back, then she stuck out her right hand and straightened her fingers. Octavia plummeted out of the woman's body like a meteor. She'd had no real chance. Still, she was only one spirit.

"Her hand has straigtened," the blacksmith said. "It hasn't done that since the day she fell ill."

"Lord," Judas asked. "Why is she not better?"

Jesus frowned at the writhing body of Mary. "She has more spirits inside her."

Raising his hands, Jesus said. "Spirits, I command you. Depart from this woman!"

Mary convulsed. Both Arachnia and Sophistria came out of her, manifesting in fire and smoke, then plummeted, screaming, into sheol. The crowd took a step back.

Could Flavius or Lucius save them?

Still, Mary shook on her mat.

"Three of them," Jesus said with a frown. "And yet there are more. Who is this woman that so many demons struggle to bring her down?"

I didn't like his question. So far, the Son of God had been relatively merciful to me. If he decided this was my handiwork, he might change his tactics.

Again, I gnashed my spiritual teeth. This was killing me. I needed to do something. What?

I spotted a pharisee nearby. His skepticism and wrath were written on his face. Dark thoughts fumed around his head in a shadowy nimbus. What could I do with him.

"He is a fake," I whispered. "This is all an act. He paid this woman to pretend she was possessed."

The thought flitted through his mind and was discarded. While he disliked Jesus, he felt sympathy for the woman--so much so that he knew her and must have known she'd not fake this.

"Come out of her," Jesus said in frustration.

Pheiddiphia held on. "Son of God," Mary's body screamed. "Let us go into an animal. Please."

Jesus made a slicing motion with his hand and she fell. Sweat stood out on his brow. Was this hard for him?

Mary sat up, trembling. "Lord," she croaked. "There are still more inside me."

Who was this woman who, when possessed by The Three, was able to sit up and talk? In failing to kill her, I may well have lost everything. Though I could not give up my task, I knew that from this point on it would be immeasurably more difficult.

I went to the pharisee and whispered in his ear. This time, to my delight, my prompting took hold.

"Jesus is in league with the Beelzebub, the ruler of demons," the man said in an authoritative voice. "That is how he casts them out."

Jesus turned his gaze from Mary. Hopefully, I'd bought the three more time. I wasn't sure what they could do with it, but it was the best I could manage given how things had turned out.

"Every kingdom divided against itself will fall. If Satan casts out Satan, then his kingdom will not stand."

Despite everything, I had to laugh at this. Maybe mortals imagine that the demonic world is well-organized and efficient. I suppose it's natural, they have the same foolish notions about their own governments and military organizations. Was I the only one present who appreciated his joke?

"And what of you and your sons?" Jesus asked. "Do you not also cast out demons? By what authority do you so."

To this, the pharisee had no answer--curse him.

Jesus turned to the woman.

"I say to you. Come out of her. All of you, however many there may be."

Mary rose to her knees and stretched out her arms. Flame shot from her wrists as Umbra and Kolasi were cast out. Where they'd exited, blood fell. The woman shook and fire and smoke poured from her side as Carnis was pulled forth. Blood colored her garments.

For a moment she remained there, kneeling, wrists and side bleeding. Then she smiled and shouted, "I'm free!"

Everyone cheered and rushed to her, bandaging her wounds, hugging, and kissing her.

Jesus reacted differently. His face paled and he retreated a step as if he'd seen some horrific sight. He sat, panting.

I watched him, wondering what was going on, what weakness I was seeing. Whatever was bothering him, it struck him to his core.

A moment later, the crowd of friends and family parted, and Mary walked to Jesus. She did so unsteadily, but with purpose. When she reached him, she knelt.

"Lord, until today, I thought no one and nothing could persuade me to leave my house and the work I did taking care of the family and friends who surround me." She glanced back and smiled at the crowd. "But since being possessed by those seven spirits, I've learned that they can carry on without me. I hope that I can do more good in your company. Please, let me be your follower."

To this Jesus nodded.

For myself, I departed in bitterness and desolation. Were Mary's words true? If so, it was my fault she now followed Jesus. But for my efforts to kill her, she'd have stayed in her him. I should have left her alone.