CHAPTER FIVE

Maintaining a universe can be a remarkably complicated affair. Bits and pieces were constantly slipping through Desaphanus's nigh-omnipotent fingers. These spots of trouble were easily corrected once they were eventually and inevitably brought to his attention. But Desaphanus was dead, and a mere eight hours after his demise, the cosmos began its headlong rush towards oblivion.

The problems started almost immediately. The angels of death fell behind in their harvest. Someone forgot to shut off the rain, and the Northern Kingdoms were drowning under twenty feet of new ocean.

Worse still, the sun had slipped out of orbit for no apparent reason, and was sinking dangerously close to Wa'suria. Something had to be done about that soon, but it was just one of many pressing concerns.

Xyreen didn't want to think about the dozens of others that had yet to be noticed.

As Desaphanus's Divine Wisdom, she had been the most logical choice to step in while he was away.

There was no chain of succession for the job. Desaphanus had never lain one out. Xyreen might have thought it shortsighted on his part, but that would have been blasphemous.

The Seasonal Spirits surrounded her on all sides, all shouting at once.

"The North is flooded," Spring complained. "I can't work under these conditions."

"Well you can't have the East," Fall shouted back. "That's still mine for another three months."

"Nor the West," Winter added. "It's bad enough that Summer has strayed into my territory."

"Only a few miles," said Summer.

"It's still a violation." Winter shoved a map in Xyreen's beak. "Fifty miles outside her allowed domain."

Xyreen wiped the frost from the map and looked it over very closely. The Seasons had always been a disharmonious group, and without Desaphanus to control them, it didn't surprise her they were at each other's throats. Just the same, she didn't have time to settle their differences.

"We've got bigger problems at the moment."

"But..."

"You'll just have to work this out yourselves."

"But what about the flood?" Spring asked. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You'll just have to be patient. That problem is being handled. Once we find out who is charge of the rain."

Xyreen broke from the Seasonal Spirits, who shouted protests. She made it nearly fifteen steps before coming across a new problem.

A trio of pale angels flanked her.

"We're running out of room in the Hall of the Dead."

"I thought the harvest was falling behind."

"It is, but we've got no one to judge the ones were getting."

Xyreen sighed. It never stopped. Judging the dead was something Desaphanus did personally.

"What should we do?" the first angel asked.

"I would think it would be obvious. Find someone to judge them."

"Who?"

"I don't care. Somebody. Anybody."

"I suppose I could do it," the first angel said.

The second and third angels each uttered a derisive snort.

The trio started bickering. Xyreen took advantage of the distraction and slipped away. She managed seventeen steps this time.

"The stars are out," a blue angel of sky reported.

"And?"

"And it isn't night."

"How did that happen?"

"We aren't sure."

Xyreen pushed her way past the angel. "I can't worry about that now."

"But the mortals are taking it as a dark omen. They're turning upon each other. Several kingdoms have already fallen, and by all accounts, the madness is spreading quickly."

"That was bound to happen. They're very stupid creatures. Right now though, I think it's more important to keep the sun from scorching the world. You wouldn't happen to know who is responsible for rain, would you?"

The angel shrugged. "No, ma'am."

"Find out."

"Yes, ma'am."

Angels darted to and fro, but this was not the usual bustle that was necessary to keep the cosmos running. This was far more disorganized, downright chaotic. A terrible din echoed through the great hall, overwhelming the divine chorus. No one seemed to know their job anymore. Without Desaphanus, the Palace of Heavens was much like a headless troll, Xyreen realized. Functional enough, but lacking direction.

It was not her way to question Desaphanus's whims, but surely dying had not been among his wisest decisions.

***

The devil trembled before Kalb. Delivering good news to the Overlord of the Damned was no guarantee of avoiding his wrath.

"Well?" Kalb asked.

The messenger swallowed a deep breathe. "As you have decreed, sir, a thousand imps and lesser devilkin have been dispatched to Wa'suria to wreak destruction for your greater glory."

Kalb leaned closer. "And?"

"And there has been no response as of yet."

"Are you certain? Have there been no burning bolts of purity? No spontaneous righteous combustions?"

"None reported, sir."

Kalb snatched up the messenger in one immense hand. "No glorious armies of light sent to beat us back?"

"No, sir."

"Not a single indication that the heavenly forces have noticed our transgression?"

"No, sir."

Kalb tossed the messenger away, who bounced several times before coming to a stop, bruised and battered but in relatively good shape for a meeting with his master.

"Do you know what this means, Staggia?" Kalb asked, then answered before she could reply.

"Desaphanus is dead. He must be."

"But how is that possible?"

"I don't know, but I know that old fool. He brooks no violation of his sacred laws, and the offense is too grand to have escaped his attention. Which can only mean one thing. Desaphanus is dead, and I, Kalb, the Overlord of the Damned, am the most powerful being in existence." He clasped his hands together and chuckled. "My time has finally come."

Staggia cleared her throat very softly. She was beginning to feel far more comfortable beside Kalb than any demon had right to, but even she was reluctant to contradict him.

Her lord fixed her with a hard stare. "Spit it out, dear Staggia."

"What about Desaphanus's brother?"

He put a talon to his slime-coated chin. "Oh yes, I'd forgotten all about him. We only talked once.

Before I Fell. Nice fellow, as I recall. I liked him. Just the same, he will have to be dealt with. Do we still have our spies in the Palace?"

"The latest batch have yet to be discovered."

"Excellent. Take this down."

Staggia unfurled her scroll.

"Let it hereby be decreed that to he or she who slays Desaphanus's brother, I shall bestow a portion of my kingdom. Either the Cliffs of Decay or the Swamps of Bleeding. Their choice."

"Very generous, sir."

"I can afford it. And let it also be decreed that a beachhead on Wa'suria is to be prepared for me.

Someplace pleasant with plenty of fresh air and a nice view where I might plan the storming of the Palace of Heavens."

"Yes, sir."

"And, finally, notify the wardens that all torments are to cease immediately. The Damned are to be prepared for the Final Battle."

Staggia stopped writing and looked up from her parchment. "Won't they just get in the way?"

"Most certainly they will." The Overlord of the Damned flashed a grin. "But --call me a romantic-- it just wouldn't be an Apocalypse without them."

***

Halfway up the Catacomb stairs, Tod's legs gave out and he teetered on the edge of a very, very long fall.

Pira snagged him by the elbow. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Tod replied. "Just a little tired. Give me a second to catch my breath." He sat on the steps, swallowing shallow gulps of air.

"Are you certain you're feeling well?"

He flashed a weak smile. "Just fine. Nothing to be concerned about."

This was not entirely true. When first creating his orcish body, he'd bestowed upon it a limitless constitution only possible through a miracle of elder godhood. He wasn't supposed to get tired. But perhaps it was no big deal. The entire incident could merely be a side effect of wearing a physical form for so long.

His vision blurred for the slightest moment. A numbness shot along his right arm.

Tod suddenly felt very vulnerable. He had never entertained the concept of mortality before. He understood the concept of death, but that was something only lesser beings had to face. At least that was what he'd always believed. Desaphanus's immense corpse was a strong argument against that belief.

"Tod?" Pira asked softly.

He stood. His knees wobbled, but he did his best to hide it. "I'm okay. Really. Don't worry."

"Would you like me to carry you?"

"I can make it."

They started climbing again. Tod's calves began to ache after the first dozen steps, but he kept that to himself.

"Pira, if something happens to me..."

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Tod. You're too important."

"But if something does, I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me you'll take care of my Cat."

"I'm no good with animals." She stopped and looked over her shoulder into his eyes. She flashed a snarl.

"Okay. I promise."

Tod smiled. He didn't want to die. Certainly not if he could help it. But if he did, it comforted him to know the Cat would be looked after. Even if she could take care of herself just fine.

Another dozen steps and a stabbing pang arose in his chest. He did his best to ignore it.

***

Somewhere, on the outer edge of the universe, six hundred stars blinked out of existence.

Nobody noticed.

A massive comet was ripped free of its orbit by a gravitational pull that had never been intended to exist but suddenly did anyway. The icy ball veered off course and streaked just left of the center of the universe.

Nobody noticed.

On the other side of the cosmos, a chain of asteroids fell into a spatial distortion and were pulled from their obscure star and rushed towards the center of the universe and just to the left.

But nobody noticed.

And in the center of the universe, and just to the left, Wa'suria burned. Immense tidal waves washed away ancient forests. Whirlpools of epic proportions swallowed entire coasts. Demons walked the world freely. Serpents were born of chicken eggs. The river's ran red with the blood of the world. All of which was readily noticed by Wa'suria's mortal inhabitants. But there was nothing they could do to prevent any of it. They could only turn on one another in a mad panic. Which they did almost immediately.

And they did it well.