Once again, I was summoned before the Abominations. They writhed upon their thrones as if in agony, but I could not guess what tormented them.

"Report, Darius, Warlord of the Dark and Deep. Tell us of your progress in corrupting the Son of God."

With the Abominations, it was sometimes difficult to tell which of them spoke.

"Good news," I said. "There has been much progress. Two of his chosen disciples are weak. I am confident I can turn Judas against him. Among Jesus' followers, he alone sees the suffering of the world in a way similar to the way we do."

A gurgling came from before the thrones, then a question in a hoarse voice. "And the other?"

"I sense in Simon a fear of death, more than most others. I don't know that I can corrupt him, but I might make him flee in the face of danger. Since he appears to be Jesus' right hand man and a kind of leader of the others, this has the potential to create much mischief."

I paused, waiting to hear any further comments.

A hand sprouted on one of the Abominations. An instant later, it was an arm, scrabbling and pushing against the thing's flesh. Other openings appeared in the thing's flesh and from them, tentacles sprouted. They wrapped the struggling arm, encircling it until little more than the fingers were visible, then they dragged it back inside. The Abomination's flesh closed, concealing the appendage.

Few of us knew anything about the Abominations. They were fallen angels, of course, but they were warped and twisted by their power to a degree the rest of us barely understood.

I'd not guessed their flesh was a cage for--for what? Tormented souls?

"My plan is to weaken those who travel with him. Jesus has a lot of confidence in himself, his message, and his followers. He may be vulnerable to sins of despair."

Another pause followed.

"We regret tell you that your plan is sound, Darius, Warlord of the Dark and Deep, and that we have no opportunity to take joy in punishing you."

Until that moment, my spiritual body had been braced for some great torture. It was almost invariably the result of any report. To escape was nearly a miracle.

"There is another matter, however, which must be discussed," the Abominations said.

I tensed again. Perhaps I would not escape unscathed. "What is it, my lords?"

"Cassia. Her darkness has lessened, her malice has decreased. She is changed and we are not sure how or why. We are considering moving her to a chamber farther down along the Dark Stair, but we are uncertain that this will have the desired effect. What are your thoughts, Warlord?"

Was this a trap? Did they know or even suspect Cassia suffered for my sake? I had little doubt this was the reason for the change they'd observed in her.

Still, I was loathe to suggest they move her deeper into sheol. Her place of torment was already worse than I realized.

"Sometimes when souls are too badly broken, they reach a limit that our suffering cannot increase. To torment them further, it may be necessary to give her back something she is lost."

Slurping noises came from the Abominations. Mouths opened on their flesh, great rows of teeth, glinting with saliva became visible. "We are listening, Warlord."

Should I say what I was actually planning? Would it be better or worse for Cassia? For me? I could only guess.

"She once confided a weakness to me, a mortal she once loved in ancient times."

Again, the dripping mouths flashed across the the Abominations. They shivered. "Your betrayal of her confidence is like a fragrant perfume to us. Tell us more."

Was I betraying her? I hoped not. Yes, in the long run, I was extending her stay in torment--but I was giving her a chance to be reunited with the mortal she cared about. I was all too aware of how brief Mikal's life would be, and I doubted I'd find her again in death.

"I don't know his name, but he lived thousands of years ago, when 'the sons of god and the daughters of men' interbred. Let her break from her prison, let her think she has escaped and give her access to the books where the names of those in our care are written. She will find him on her own."

"We are pleased with you, Warlord. Depart and resume your labors."

And with those words, a rushing of wind and crackling of lightning, I was returned to Jesus.

Where was I? The place was familiar, but not close to where I'd last seen him. How long had I been with the Abominations? Normally, visits to their realm took no time--but it could make a visit take whatever amount of time they wanted They could have held me for years and I would not have known.

Jesus walked among the tombs outside of a city. There was a man there, running between the rocks. He was naked, dirty, with shaggy hair that went halfway down his chest. Broken chains hung from his wrists and ankles.

When he saw Jesus, he turned to run, but Jesus gestured and he fell to the ground, throwing himself and writhing.

I recognized the man. He was the vessel I'd used to hide my legion of demons, to protect them against being found and destroyed. Had the Abominations detained me for this purpose, that my warriors and rank might be stripped from me? It was not unlike them.

Rushing to their side, I drew my sword. I stood between Jesus and the possessed man, willing him to see me.

"Stay back!" I warned.

Yes, I doubted I had any chance. My only hope was that Jesus would confine himself to human ways of thinking and acting. He did that often enough. Further, when he'd forgiven me, he had also tried to knock me into the underworld. The coin in which I had secreted my soul had saved me then. It might work again.

Of course, if I was wrong, I might soon find myself on some deep, forgotten byway on the Dark Stair.

Jesus waved his hand. I was thrown back, like a leaf on the wind. I attempted to rush back, but I could not move. It was as if arms encircled my spiritual limbs, locking them in place.

"What is your name?" Jesus said to the man.

"We are called 'Legion,' for we are many."

"Please, Son of God," I cried. "Have mercy on them."

Jesus glanced in my direction. His expression unreadable.

"Do not command us to go into the deep places," the man cried. "Please."

All those with Jesus had gathered. Others, too, from the nearby city. Jesus waited, letting the crowd build, letting them see.

"I will not let you stay in the body you inhabit. What should I do with you?"

A few of the members of my legion could drift free and come and go from the bodies that they inhabited. Most of them, however, needed a body of some sort to inhabit in order to stay on the mortal plane. Sometimes a serpent would do--but nothing lower. We could influence insects at best.

There were probably many humans in the city and in the crowd who would serve to contain my soldiers, but I knew Jesus would not allow it.

Alternatively, if a demon killed the body it was in, it could depart from the mortal plane for a while and return to its barracks in sheol to rest. From there, its master could call it forth and assign it a new host. I assumed Jesus would not want that either, though.

Wildly, I looked about, trying to find some suggestion for the Son of God. On a hill, not far off, there was a pig farmer with his animals, a great herd.

"The pigs!" I said. "You can send them into the pigs!"

"Yes," the man cried. "Please. Let us go into the pigs."

Jesus nodded, glanced around at the crowd and said, "Very well"

At once, my legion was expelled. As soon as they were safely inside the animals, I gave my command and they charged toward the sea, farmers in their wake, shouting and tossing their hands into the air.

Would Jesus' concern for the farmers and their welfare cause him to change his mind?

I noticed a man by Jesus' side, one of the people from the city. He was finely dressed and slightly overweight. Upon seeing the charing pigs, his face went pale and he clutched his hands to his face.

In the distance we heard the screams of the farmers and the thrashing and wailing of the pigs as they drowned themselves in the ocean.

I went before Jesus at once, dropped on one knee, and said, "Thank you, lord."

If he saw me, he gave no sign.

The naked man huddled on the ground. Judas came forward and dropped his cloak over the man. Once he'd covered himself, he, too, bowed before Jesus and, in a trembling voice, said, "Thank you, lord. Of my wealth, if it has not been taken from me during my possession, I give you half."

The well-dressed man next to Jesus laughed nervously. "That was a truly, um, amazing sign you performed, lord."

Jesus nodded but said nothing.

"I am mayor here," he gestured with one hand toward the city. "Tonight, I suppose, we will have a feast of pork and a celebration that one of our city's finest noblemen, Lord Flavius, has been restored to us."

"We are jews," Jesus said. "We do not eat pig."

"Oh, well, I'm sure we can find something for you. Wine and bread or something. In any event, we will welcome you for the evening."

"We accept," Jesus replied.

The mayor cast a furtive glance at the ocean. The farmers were struggling to drag the dead pigs to the beach. When he spoke, his voice trembled. "Then, in the morning, please leave our village. No hard feelings, okay?"

Jesus placed a hand on the man's shoulder. He flinched. "Be at peace," Jesus said.

The fear, however, remained clear in the mayor's face.