When I found Jesus, he was staying with a new friend named Lazarus who owned a vineyard. He and his followers were having a great time, what with all the grapes and stores of wine. Some minstrels came by and performed for them. Jesus tried to play, but he was quite clumsy at it. He laughed whenever he hit a wrong note.

Somehow, it made me angry to see him happy. I can't say precisely what it was. Maybe it was watching Cassia's torment with the eye in sheol.

Judas, at least, had the sense to stay away from the partying. He took a basket full of the leftover grapes and carried them into town--presumably to give to the poor. It's what I wished Jesus would do.

The next morning, Jesus and his followers left. I waited half a day longer, then I found Lazarus taking a nap by the side of his field and drove my sword into his flesh--not quite through his heart.

His eyes flew open, and he began to cough and shudder. He rose to go home, but before he took three steps I struck his feet and sent him sprawling. His knee struck a rock, slicing the flesh. With effort, he struggled to his feet and continued his stumbling journey home, calling for help.

I drew dark and silence about him, muffling his calls. When he fell the second time, bleeding into the dirt and gasping for breath I stooped to examine him.

My blow had been precise. He had about one painful day left before the spiritual illness I'd driven into him took his life.

Satisfied, I flew to where Jesus was.

I knew I would have to listen to another day's worth of sermons about being nice to people before the news about John the Baptist arrived, so I settled in to wait. Somehow, I found Jesus' parables and talk of peace and love more irritating than usual. When it was near sundown, I decided to give my ears a break and go for a walk. I hadn't gone far when I saw John's people approaching. Their garments were torn and ash was on their head.

I smiled.

My wait was over. At once I flew back.

Jesus was sitting in the midst of an adoring crowd, smiling beatifically as they ate up his words. He had a cup of wine in his hand, which he raised as he told some story about farmers and harvesting grain that--presumably--had some deep meaning or other.

Judas, alone, was standing. He was also fidgeting. "I thought we were going to see Lazaras today?"

Everyone looked his way.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the man is sick, right? Messengers came twice yesterday."

It was my moment. I stepped forward, tossed my cape over my shoulder, and fixed Jesus with my best derisive smile.

"Tell him there's no need," I said. "Lazarus is dead. He choked to death on his own blood while burning up from fever. His end was neither peaceful nor painless."

At once, Jesus' face became ashen.

A beautiful young woman sitting at his side said, "What's the matter, teacher?"

It was at that moment that John's apostles entered. Jesus rose as they approached, taking in the sight of them, the ashes on their heads and the tears in their garments.

They drew near with lowered heads. One of them, a thin, almost skeletal man with gray in his beared walked at the lead. When he was but a few paces away, he stopped and bowed. "Your cousin is dead. Beheaded by Herod."

Rapidly blinking, Jesus covered his eyes. "I'm sorry. I need a moment. Simon, could you--could you see to these men? They'll need food, water and a chance to wash their hands and feet. I--if you need me, I'll be in the garden."

"Of course, rabbi," Simon said in a soft voice.

Jesus turned to go. Many stood as if to follow him.

After taking but a few steps he paused. "Please," he said over his shoulder. "I need to be alone."

After a few moments of silence, Jesus walked out.

I followed him at a discreet distance and watched until he settled himself in his garden to pray. With satisfaction, I noted the tears on his cheeks.

It was time for the showdown. I fastened my armor, called up my cape of shadows and affixed a crown of night to my head. He would see me in the fullness of my glory.

"Be ready, my legion," I said. "Put on your armor, pick up your weapons, and prepare to be summoned. Today I go to do battle with the Son of God."

While I could simply take them with me, there was still the very real danger I'd lose them all. Best to wait for a strategic moment, should one present itself.

I stormed into the garden and willed myself to be seen.

"Jesus of Nazareth," I called out. "I call on thee to witness your many failings in this world."

He paused in his weeping to stare up at me. I willed myself larger, my shadows deeper.

"You want to be human? This is what it means. Your friend Mary of Magdalene suffered at my hand, your cousin, John the Baptist, died at my order. Even now, your new friend Lazarus rasps out his last breath. While you drink and celebrate and spend time in the company of prostitutes, the people of this world suffer greatly."

Of course, I knew he didn't avail himself of the former prostitutes in his company, but let him defend himself against that implication if he wanted to.

I braced myself, ready for the fire, the lightning, the earthquake. With any luck, my soul coin would protect me.

To my consternation, Jesus simply looked at the ground and did nothing.

"Don't you care, Son of God? When people strike down your friends, do you do nothing? Will you go back to your feasting and not look back."

Jesus lifted his eyes to mine. Somehow, that simple look made me feel foolish, like a child taunting a wise old man.

I shook myself and bared my teeth. "Is that all you've got? Is that your only response to what I've done?"

"Be patient," Jesus said.

Then he went back to staring at the ground. He found a stick, sketched a few wavy lines in the sand, then wiped it away with his hand.

This was definitely not how I expected things to go. Insted of fire and judgement, I was being made to wait will the Son of God played with a stick like a small child. I didn't even know what I was waiting for. Maybe I shouldn't play this game. Maybe I should just leave him.

"Rabbi!" a voice called from the entrance to the garden. A group of pharisees and teachers of the law were marching in. In their midst was a woman. They'd tied her hands, torn her garments, and bruised her face.

It was Mikal.

They threw her to the ground in the center of the garden on a patio of white stones. She shook and sobbed.

I needed to possess someone, anyone--but none of the men who entered had the right kind of soul.

"My legion," I called out. "I summon thee. Here my voice and attend my needs."

The ground writhed with shadows as my troops rose from sheol.

"Arise," I prompted, using my power to draw them forth. Though it was seconds, it seemed to take forever. The men encircled Mikal.

It was then I noticed the rocks they carried.

"Hurry, my legion!" I called.

As they stepped free, I said. "Possess these men. As many as you can."

Jesus took his stick and drew a circle in the sand. At once, my demons were thrown back, pushed out of the garden by a sphere of invisible energy.

I went to Jesus and flung myself on the ground before him. "No, no, no. Please, no. I'm sorry for what I've done. Please don't do this to her. Send me to the Dark Stair, to the very bottom if you want. It's what I deserve. Please."

"Rabbi," the rabbi said. "We found this woman committing adultery. The law says that we should stone her. What do you say?"

If this had happened to someone else, I suppose I would have laughed. I had been stirring up their jealousy, encouraging them to find some kind of trap. Never had I imagined they would use Mikal as their bait.

And the timing, oh, the timing was exquisite. I'd given Jesus every reason to destroy me just as Mikal had fallen into his power. Whatever happened here would be entirely my fault. I'd doomed the woman I'd tried to protect.

Jesus said nothing. He just sat there, with his stick. It took me a few seconds to realize what it was drawing.

It was a coastline, and Jesus drew an X above the place where I'd hidden my soul coin.

How could things go worse?

I got off my knees and drew my sword. I willed myself to become visible to Mikal.

To Jesus I said, "I am your enemy, Son of God. Not this woman."

Then I drew my flaming sword and charged him. Sure, I knew my attack had no chance of succeeding. My only hope was that striking me down would satisfy his anger.

Before I could land my blow, Jesus looked up and said, "Be at peace."

The words hit me like a wall of stone, knocking me to the ground.

"Peace to you as well," one of the teachers of the law said. "But what of our question, would have us obey the law of Moses or not?"

Jesus smiled an enigmatic smile. He spared me but a glance, then said. "Let he among you who is without sin, cast the first stone."

Following this, he met the gaze of each of the men. Instead of replying, they turned and walked away.

When they were gone, he got up, walked over to Mikal and helped her to her feet. He touched her cheek and the bruise vanished. "What happened to these accusers of yours?" he said in a soothing tone. "Has no one condemned you?"

She shook her head. "No one, Lord," she said.

"Then neither do I condemn you. Go. And this time, sin no more."

Then she pointed at me. I'd forgotten I'd made myself visible to her. "What of him? Is he the reason these men caught me?"

Jesus shook his head. "You are the only person in this world that Darius does not wish to harm."

"But he's--he's a demon, isn't he?"

Jesus looked at me again. His eyes were unreadable. "Think of him as a sinner. Misguided, just like any other person."

With that, Jesus, too, left the garden, only Mikal and I remained. She gave me a tentative smile. I returned it--a thing I'd not dared to hope I'd ever do. Did I say that the First Song was beautiful? It was nothing compared to this moment.

"Are you going to follow Jesus, too?" she asked.

I could answer that I'd been following him all along--but I knew that wasn't what she meant. I'd hurt Jesus, as badly as I knew how, hoping to make him smite me in wrath.

Instead, he gave me everything I ever wanted.

"Yes," I said. "I think--I think maybe I should."

With that she turned and walked away.