VIII
"Water is the softest thing, yet it can penetrate mountains and earth. This clearly shows the principle of softness overcoming hardness." – Lao Tzu
"Now it's a good time for dessert, don't you think Milcom? Tell your female she can come out of hiding."
As on cue the plump redhead came out of the back carrying a little cake.
"Please sit, honey! Do tell me where you get your sugar from. I know you can substitute cow milk and chicken eggs, but sugar…" Lucifer padded the seat beside him.
"Please, my Lord, don't harm my flower." Milcom became increasingly tense and played with the glasses on the table.
"Such a rare creature? What do you take me for?" Turning all his attention to the female while savoring the dessert, he continued his interrogation. "So your mother is a demon and your father a human, am I correct?"
"How do you…?" Milcom interrupted which earned him a fiery glare.
"Do you think I am dense? A human female couldn't enter Hell alive, so it must be a demon visiting Earth and getting pregnant from a man. And as far as I have noticed she has spent some time there. Am I right my dear? What's your name?"
"Gorse." She blushed so hard; her freckles almost disappeared. "Like the flower."
"Gorse. Resilient, toxic, ignitable, thorny and pretty on top. So fitting for a half demon. And quite the pretty flower you are and so talented in the kitchen." Rearranging her red braid around her neck there was no need to use his mojo. "I would wish to be able to welcome you as my personal cook. Where do you get your ingredients from?"
"Whenever I visit my father I buy them at the local store."
"Are you telling me you can visit your father without a major discrepancy in time between this region of Hell and Scotland?" This was getting interesting.
"Aye, Sire. I visit him every fifty-six twilights or every full moon and I stay a weekend. Milcom keeps the place up."
"Why wouldn't he? He has a real gem in his hands." Lucifer's eyes wandered back to the tavern keeper. "You need to show me the tear between worlds."
The publican twiddled. "I can't. Only Gorse knows where it is and how to go through it."
"And her mother!" added Lucifer.
"My mother was killed many cycles ago and my father never looked for another female."
"You are saying that your father loved your mother and it wasn't just a coupling?" A loose hair strand in the little redhead's face captured his attention and he tucked it gently behind her little ears. "Just as Milcom loves you?"
"You know about love, Sire?"
"And I know how it feels when it is left behind." Not sure why he had said that to complete strangers, the Devil suddenly felt uncomfortable. He ate his cake silently and the couple didn't disturb him. They just sat and looked at him and at each other while he finished.
Milcom cleared the table when Gorse showed her lord the chamber she had decided to give him. As the tavern keeper had promised it was simple and clean; the bed, though large and broad, was still small for Lucifer Morningstar but by curling in it would suffice.
"When will you visit your father again?" The almost twice as tall celestial hung his coat and jacket on two separate hooks beside the wash jug and bowl set and looked down to the ginger.
"In four twilights."
"Good. I intend to accompany you. I need to see if the fugitive Lilim found that exit."
"As you wish, my Lord." The little woman looked beyond nervous. "Although I am certain he didn't."
He put her chin between two claws and said: "Fear not. I lived among humans for almost ten years."
"The whole secret lies in confusing the enemy, so that he cannot fathom our real intent." – Another wise thought of the Chinese strategist the Devil intended to use.
Nirazeen and Bofo were sent scouting in two opposite directions. Bofo toward the shrublands and the Lilim to the far end of frozen lake. They would be busy for some time and confuse Dromos about his wants. Satisfied with his performance of an irate and impatient devil, Lucifer Morningstar reentered the tavern for his breakfast.
"So, my dear Gorse, what have you prepared for me?" Clapping his hands he turned his attention to the little cook.
"An attempt to a traditional Scottish breakfast." She smiled and blushed a little.
"No haggis!" No sheep and no goat please!
"No haggis and no black pudding. I can't keep that fresh for long. But I have my local sausages, eggs from the soot-red chickens from Hel, baked beans, dried mushrooms, homemade tattie scones and a nice bacon. I am sure you will like it my Lord."
"Chickens from Hel, like my trusted hound here?" He looked down at Garm, whose black head almost reached Gorses shoulders, before he sat down next to the cold fireplace. The animal reciprocated and wagged his tail cautiously before it disappeared under the table.
"Yes, my Lord. You will find them a suitable substitute."
The little redhead placed a large platter in front of the Devil while her male tended to the bar in search of something, apparently. When he found what he was looking for, he became quite busy and Lucifer heard a kettle whistle after some scratching and moving of pottery, shuffling and stirring of metal. He caught a familiar aroma and perked up. Tea? Real tea and not that hellish hardy plant? This little place in the middle of Cocytus, the most unwelcoming part of Hell, was pretty close to what he would call Heaven. Perhaps he could snatch the Detective. Show her that Hell could indeed freeze over and ravish her in the bed upstairs? It wasn't too bad here and she might like it. She enjoyed the simple things. Sadly, no human had ever crossed the threshold alive, no matter what Dante had averred.
But he could daydream, couldn't he?
A white bone china tea set appeared in front of him. Milcom swayed proudly and it was obvious they did not use it for the regulars but kept it as a token. The Lord of Hell understood this as a gesture of straightforward appreciation and not of fear. Interesting. The Detective would like this corner of his realm, he was certain of it.
Two twilights later Gorse was prepared for their trip. Clad in a duffle coat and carrying a bulky leather bag she stood at the main door waiting for the King of Hell who showed up all clad in leather, a type of messenger bag dangling from one shoulder. He intended to pick up a few things, too.
"We need to walk, Sire."
His hand offered her to pass in front of him.
"Lead the way, my dear Gorse."
The toad and the Lilim hadn't encountered anybody who had seen Dromos, but two demons had heard of a Lilim wandering aimless through Cocytus. Aimless! Ha! Of course not! Dromos wasn't the lightest bulb on the chandelier, but he certainly wasn't stupid. This time Lucifer sent them together along with his four hounds and his afanc. The beasts would pick up the scent if he had been hiding somewhere.
In the meantime she half-demon and him would be crossing boundaries.
So far they had been walking toward and through a thick veil of fog and the King of Hell was reminded of the late horror movie nights his right hand had had with the offspring while he had been hunting the guilty along his Detective. He couldn't understand what made dense fog so horrific. Some tiny droplets of water humans were afraid of! In so many cells he had encountered that setting.
The redhead didn't seem to mind, she walked at a steady pace. He kept a few steps behind trying to memorize the path they had taken. There was no landmark he could use. Everything was flat, greyish-green and moist. Wet and cold and almost freezing. His boots squeaked once in a while when he crushed some forming ice on top of a puddle. It was almost impossible to tell how long they had been walking and in which direction, and it was getting boring, but then Gorse came to a halt.
"This is it, my Lord."
She took the cane in her hand, making a weird movement and stepping on a flattened rock surrounded by some inconspicuous shrubs she disappeared from his sight. He followed without making any sound.
The two emerged behind a small stone house surrounded by a high wall of the same material. It was raining and Gorse headed through the back door into the kitchen, the Devil following suit, making himself small by bending down and pulling his wings behind his back.
"This is my father's home. Please feel welcome but do try not to scare him. He has a fragile heart. I will inform him that I brought a visitor."
She went further into the house and immediately he heard happy chatter. Deciding to have a look at the blue and white countryside kitchen, he tucked his large wings in and turned his attention to the well-stocked pantry. Large sausages and a whole ham hang from some hooks in the ceiling, the shelves filled with homemade jam and marmalade, fruit preserves, honey – everything sweet that Hell was lacking in. He closed the door and peered over to the oven. A kettle was on the stove and some teacups, sandwiches and shortbread prepared on a tray. The father had been expecting the daughter. It stung on a certain level, but it wasn't their fault. It was HIS. As always.
Gorse came back and announced very formally: "My Lord, my father is honored to receive you in the living room. Would you care to follow me?"
The Devil nodded silently and pulled his hood back over his head before he strolled through the hallway into the appointed room. Everything in the croft house seemed diminutive to him. It could easily fit in his penthouse. The little redhead offered him an armchair next to the open fireplace. It was old-fashioned, cozy, warm and welcoming. Dove grey, blue and yellow. Very much Laura Ashley. He wondered if the decoration was ingrained in the people from the British Isles or if a woman had chosen the décor. The little half-demon perhaps?
"This is pretty, my dear Gorse."
"Thank you, my Lord. May I present you my father?"
"It is a privilege to have my daughter's king in my humble home." The bearded man in his mid-fifties made a bow, not daring to glance into the Devil's orbs, but Lucifer dismissed him with his gloved hand.
"That is unnecessary. Your daughter has proven to be an excellent aide and cook."
This comment made father and daughter color their cheeks into a deep shade of red, before the tiny female darted out of the room, leaving Devil and mortal alone. The man sat on the couch opposite the unexpected guest and ogled him before he tried to start a conversation.
"Gorse tells me you are looking for a rogue demon?"
"That is indeed correct. If he were to cross realms again we all would be in dire straits. He possessed a Scotsman the last time I had to send him back to Hell, so it might be probable he would pop up here."
"I thought possession was banned."
"Oh yes, it is. He will suffer the consequences when I have him in my claws."
Immediately the pale ginger man stared at the long claws that were poking the armrests and forgot about making small talk. Lucifer didn't feel the need to elaborate further, either.
Completely oblivious of the awkward silence Gorse reappeared with the tray speaking fondly: "See, dadaidh, my Lord is quite pleasant."
She placed the tray on the small table in the middle of the room and served everyone a share of tea and food. Lucifer helped himself to a sandwich.
"You made them, Mister…?"
"Dòmhnall MacGilleChaluim. Aye, your majesty."
"Lucifer will suffice. No need for formalities here. This is not a planned visit from a head of state, and I am raiding your pantry already." Grabbing another sandwich he glanced at the sweets in a glass bowl beside the man, who jumped up and put them on the side table next to the Kind of Hell.
"No, your majesty. I served at an estate for decades and it's always a sign of manners to know ones place."
"Arguable! Alas, I will leave you for a bit, but I expect to be back before noon." He took two sweets, nodded, pushed himself out of the yellow armchair and went to the backyard to stretch his white wings.
In a blink of an eye he vanished.
"Detective! Detective!"
It was still dark on the other side of the globe.
The Morningstar tried to wake the sleeping brunette, but she did not react to his voice which had passed from a whisper to a louder plea. He had already admired her fine, silky hair, her pretty nose she could wistfully wrinkle when she encountered something she disliked, her lashes that hid her unique, aventurine colored eyes, but he hadn't dared touching her smooth skin.
"Detective!"
Still standing at the end of the bed, he sighed, stepped closer, finally leaning over her when he heard bare feet shuffling on the hardwood floor.
"Lucifer, is that you?" As if whiplashed he turned around to see the origin of the voice.
"Urchin! What are you doing here at this time of the night?"
"You woke me! But you're not going to wake up mom." Trixie hissed.
"Why is that?" He tried to stay in the shadow and away from the faint moonlight that shone in from a window in the hallway. Here in the bedroom the detective had at least some black-out-blinds.
"She takes sleeping pills now. They knock her out. Come!" Trixie entered the bedroom and reached out for him but stopped when she noticed two red lights coming from the hooded figure.
"Lucifer? What is going on? Why are you here at night? Are you hiding?" she whispered.
He harrumphed and pulled his hood deeper into his face. This was not what he had had in mind. The detective's daughter hadn't seen him as Devil. She wasn't supposed to meet him tonight. She had grown quite a bit since he had seen her. How much time had passed?
"Beatrice", he started "don't be afraid."
"From you? Never! Now get out of the room!"
Lucifer's large frame slumped somewhat, but he obeyed. If the detective were not going to wake, at least he could get something from the kitchen.
"Don't switch the lights on, urchin."
"Okay, but you have to tell me where you went and why you hadn't returned until now. Mom wouldn't say." The twelve-year-old crossed her arms and leaned back, elevating her chin - just like his trusted righthand demon always had. It made him feel proud of Mazikeen somehow. Did she still train the spawn?
"All right. You have become quite demanding, haven't you? Ordering me around. Quite the chip off the old block I must say."
He passed her and heard her gasp when she saw he had to bow down to cross the threshold of the room.
"What happened to you? You have grown a lot."
"I went to Hell. Surely you mother must have told you."
Trixie shook her head. "She just said you had to leave to protect us. But Maze did. Did you really go back? You hate Hell. You always say so." She followed Lucifer to the kitchen stumbling over her pink plush sandals.
"Your mother is correct. And I haven't finished yet, so I must return in a bit." He looked into the fridge, stalling and searching for something edible at the same time.
"Can't you do that from here?" She stared at the back of his hooded jacket, taking in everything that was illuminated by the refrigerator lightbulb.
"Not yet." He shook his head, more disappointed with the lack of produce than anything else. No way he was able to cook anything decent!
"But you will come back?"
"I will do my very best. Hell's not my favourite place as you well pointed out."
The eternal self-invited houseguest pulled at a bag of wieners and barely stopped himself from making a joke about it. The detective did not appreciate those around the offspring. Then he looked at the expiration date. With the detective under the same roof food poisoning was a possible issue.
"Maze is pretty pissed at you. For not taking or at least asking her." Trixie sat at the kitchen peninsula. "Hand me one over."
"Language! Your mother certainly wouldn't approve. As I don't approve you eating non prepared food. But I suppose that Maze's anger is not unrewarded. Where is she anyway?" He threw the package at her and she caught it easily, even if the kitchen was in penumbra. She observed him searching for bread rolls, onions, tomatoes, and mustard, but she could probably only see his fiery eyes and a more general form. Humans usually had a hard time seeing and moving in the dark.
"She moved in with Linda and Amenadiel to help with Charlie. I am twelve, I don't need a babysitter anymore… and I am not scared of you… just to make that clear."
"Well, you haven't assaulted me yet, so I am not so certain..." Taking out a knife and a chopping board he was going to be able to make some simple hotdogs.
"You haven't greeted me properly either! And your look's so different. More like Maze with all the leather clothing." She finished her cold turkey sausage and slid from the bar stool, still playing it cool.
"True. Come on and let's get over with it." He squatted and opened his arms to receive her hug.
Trixie ran around the island and said, hugging him as fervently as when she was little, while absolutely forgetting she was now in Middle School and that behavior considered childish:
"Lucifer, I am happy you came!" She continued much more cheerfully: "We have missed you so very, very much! I really hope you can come back to stay."
"I see you still haven't learned how not to squeeze life out of people," he grumbled and patted her on the head.
"Ouch! You scratched me!"
"Oh! I seem to be much clumsier nowadays." Slowly he got up and his head almost reached the ceiling.
Trixie tried to make out his face in the darkness, mesmerized by the red orbs and grabbed his hands.
"Doesn't matter." Squeezing them gently, she continued: "You really don't look like the Lucifer I am used to, but you pretty much sound like him." Wrinkles appeared over her nose. Her mimic resembled her mother's so much. "What happened?" she continued, tracing the claws on the fingers.
"Hell." What else could he say? "I am the Devil, you know. I rule Hell and I have to be fearsome."
"Yeah. Figures." She hugged him again.
"How long has it been since I had to leave?"
"Almost three months."
"And you have grown that much? Do humans grow a lot in puberty?"
"Yeah, at least the boys do. In Middle School everybody grows but you hadn't seen much of me before changing schools. We missed a lot of boardgame nights, and I wasn't that often at the precinct."
She sounded hurt and the Devil felt somewhat responsible, even if it hadn't been his fault. He needed to set it right.
"That's sadly true, but in my defense I must say it was your mom who was against me visiting."
"I know it's not your fault. I overheard mom plenty of times. She was afraid of you… and Maze for a while."
"Yes, she was. But that's in the past. I hope. Can you let go of me now? Or do I have to change your name from urchin to burdock?" Did he really laugh? It seemed eons ago since he had done it the last time.
"Only if you hug me back." Even if she tried to keep her voice seemed earnest, she couldn't hold it, and her laughter made him comply without much thought. It felt good and reminded him why he was trying to find Dromos in Hell.
"Your mom is not waking up anytime soon, is she?"
They had finished their pair of hotdogs each and Lucifer needed to get back soon. Hell still wasn't reconquered and Earth not safe.
"I don't think so. It takes a lot to wake her in the morning." The girl sounded somewhat sad and he felt guilty, again. He always ruined everything and yet there they were, or at least the spawn, missing him. He didn't deserve it, but he desired to know.
"Does she have a boyfriend?"
"No, Silly! Why would she? Mom has you."
An unwarranted warm tingling feeling filled his stomach and made him smile.
"Tell her that I think of you two." After a pause he added: "If you pray to me I will be able to hear you."
"For real?!" Trixie stared at him. "That works?"
"It does. But only one way. It would be nice to know what you are doing all day long, though."
"I will tell mom and I will keep you updated on everything."
"That would be nice. Speaking of nice; do you have any chocolate or ranch puffs?"