Chapter 9 - Underworld Politics (The Devil You (Don't) Know)
Grocery shopping was a necessity that couldn't be ignored, even in the middle of trying to plan a way to avert the end of the world as we know it.
The trio usually took turns based on whoever was least busy at the time, but Harry volunteered to go this time. Sam and Dean needed some space and time to have a brotherly heart-to-heart, and it was much easier for them to do as much when Harry was halfway across town rather than in the next room.
Shopping runs were normally calm enough to be entirely unremarkable, but as Harry drove through the streets he began to get that itching feeling that he was being watched once again. This had been happening on and off for weeks now, and he was still no closer to finding the cause.
At least with his new rib decorations he could cross celestial observation off the list.
Finding a park at the far end of the supermarket's parking lot, Harry cautiously stepped outside.
Turns out the confines of his car had actually been making him feel subconsciously more at ease, because the tension in his body shot up once he left that small piece of safety.
He wasn't alone. It would be ridiculous to somehow be the only person shopping in the middle of the day, and on the weekend at that. Far stranger if the place was deserted.
Closing his eyes he took several slow, deep breaths, hoping to settle the tension to a level that wouldn't have him on extra high alert any time someone reached past him to a shelf in the store.
When he was as calm as he could manage he turned on his heel, ready to get on with his day - even if that meant rushing through the shopping rather than making thoughtful purchases - and abruptly found himself face to chest with a tall stranger.
Instinctively he moved to take a step back - he hadn't heard this person approaching at all, which didn't bode well for him - but the figure reached out in a single smooth motion to grab his shoulder. In less than the time it took Harry to blink in shock, the space around them shifted from the familiar parking lot to a very unfamiliar space.
They didn't fight when he wrenched himself free of their grasp, rapidly retreating out of arm's reach. Why bother, when they'd already moved him wherever it was they wanted to? Sure Harry had an escape method on hand that most people didn't, but there was no way of knowing if they were prepared for that too. It hadn't happened often, but attempting to apparate when there were wards trapping him was awful.
"What do you want?" Harry demanded.
The figure didn't answer immediately, simply watching him in silence. While it was safe to do so, Harry took the chance to observe them in return.
Tall. Humanoid. Masculine. Well-dressed; suits seemed to be all the rage amongst angels and demons alike these day, and this person was no exception.
Many supernatural beings could easily pass themselves off as human, so appearances tended to be less than helpful identifiers, but it never hurt.
Just based on the eyes alone - pitch black, without a single speck of white or any other colour - Harry wanted to say the man was a demon, but… He'd been exposed to a lot of demons in his time, and his kidnapper didn't quite feel the same.
"Who are you?"
The man chuckled, straightening the brim of his hat with gloved fingers. He sounded amused, but it sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Impertinent brat."
Some primal, base instinct in the back of his mind screamed at Harry not to provoke this man, but he'd spent his entire life fighting against powerful people. He wasn't going to cower silently in the face of the unknown.
"If I'm annoying you feel free to put me back where you found me."
The stranger smiled. It wasn't friendly. At best Harry could liken it to the indulgent amusement one holds towards a child's antics - a light-heartedness that sat on a wire's edge, ready to fall into irritation at any moment.
"There's no need to bark at me, boy. I only invited you for a civil conversation."
A 'civil conversation' would involve answering his damn questions. Reluctantly he bit back that particular protest.
"I am known as Dantalion," he explained, tone lightly mocking. Clearly Harry's non-existent poker face had shown his irritation loud and clear. "And I am a Lord of Hell." He gestured vaguely at their surroundings.
Harry frowned.
As someone who had been to Hell on several occasions - not necessarily by choice but also not, at least, as a prisoner - Harry thought he was justified in his confusion. This strange non-space, with it's strange lighting and complete lack of identifiable objects, let alone landmarks… It looked nothing like any part of Hell he'd been in before. The atmosphere, too, was different. Even in closed office spaces there was a constant ringing in the air, muffled screams and other unpleasant sounds mixing together.
But here? Nothing. Dead silence.
"Hell wasn't built as some glorified torture chamber." Dantalion waved his finger in an infuriatingly condescending motion. "That came later. Much later. But I didn't bring you here to discuss architecture."
Crowley never talked much about other demons. He more or less despised them all, and wasn't the sort of guy to waste energy thinking about people he hated. But that was their old status quo. These days he talked more about demons of high rank, because they were all trying to work through who may or may not be involved in Lilith's - and Uriel's - schemes.
The fact that he'd never mentioned the name Dantalion or any so-called 'Lords of Hell' meant one of two things:
Dantalion was lying to his face.
Or there was a subset of demons that Crowley was entirely unaware of.
Both were bad, and both were dangerous.
In as neutral a tone as he could manage, Harry asked again, "What did you bring me here for then?"
As if he had all the time in the world Dantalion paced a slow circle around Harry before answering.
"The world is self-destructing and an acquaintance of the Blacks' is in the thick of it. Call it a… personal curiosity."
Although he had zero idea what the Black family had to do with any of this, the idea that the end of the world was just an idle curiosity… That was definitely the thought process of an ancient being, looking out over humans living their short little lives like they were some sort of play.
"Just curiosity? And here I thought Hell was bursting at the seams with anticipation for this whole razing the earth plan."
"Do not lump me together with those second-rate mimics," he spat, lips twisting in a disgusted scowl. "Whether you live or die is ultimately meaningless. I gain nothing from hurrying it along or fighting against it."
Note to self, angering this man was a bad idea. Harry would be seriously playing with fire if he steered this in the wrong direction. Even if he could leave, Dantalion and many others besides had been watching him for some time. They knew the town. Leaving this space would not ensure his safety.
"Okay." He refused to apologise, so simply side-stepping the topic would have to do. "But you wanted to talk to me. Why?"
Dantalion smoothed non-existant wrinkles from his jacket, expression falling back into neutral territory.
"I have a long-standing business relationship with the Black family. Walburga never had the common decency to introduce me to her children, but that would hardly prevent me from looking in on them regardless."
Walburga? The screaming portrait?
Oh, but, like so many other magic paintings she was a real person once. Sirius'… mother? If he remembered right.
"That bloodline is naught but ashes now, but there was one person they looked fondly upon. You. Still, there's nothing so fascinating about a single human that I would bother looking in on you were you still in England. The difference is that you are here, in the epicentre of humanity's secret last stand."
Listening to him write off Sirius' life and death so crassly made Harry's blood boil, but this wasn't the time for an outburst. He could be as angry as he wanted once he was far far away from this self-proclaimed demon. Some way, some how, knowing Sirius made Harry important enough - or at least enough of a passing curiosity - to be given a chance. A chance for what? That still wasn't exactly clear.
"I have the answer to the riddle you've been trying to decode. No one else will be gracious enough to offer it up to you until it's too late to stop things. But an answer is only an answer. Discovering how to never break something is infinitely harder than breaking it. This world may burn either way, but in deference to a centuries-long partnership it may prove more entertaining to watch you flounder if you at least have a starting point."
He… Did he seriously know what Castiel's infuriatingly vague 'Lilith will break the final seal' comment meant? If he did - assuming he was telling the truth - then that was… Everything. They had been working their asses off for months trying to coax an ounce of meaning from it, to no avail.
"I appreciate that…" Now more than ever Harry was convinced that he need to tread carefully and pick his words, this time not to ensure his safety but to gain this infinitely precious information. "But would it be unreasonable to ask what you gain from this?"
"Perhaps I would simply like to see those lesser demons fall on their faces. They forget themselves, all of them. Hell was not built for the Morningstar, it merely houses his eternal prison. They want to see humanity burn, but they themselves were born from humans. I have existed since before the advent of humanity, before the Fall, before these bottom-feeders. If you fail despite my aid the world will simply be reset. Perhaps something new will rise from the ashes, a new form of entertainment. Perhaps it won't."
Oh. Okay. This guy wasn't just some high and mighty demon, but someone who had been around for thousands of years. That's certainly old enough to pull the detached whimsy card.
Harry supposed he should just be grateful this ancient being's whim this time around was to help him instead of hinder.
"Of course, that's understandable." It wasn't, not to Harry and his mortal sensibilities, but no need to start an argument.
"Mm." Dantalion didn't believe him, but was amused by his attempt anyway. "Lilith cannot break the seal, she is the seal. She will hide from you until the appointed time, then make herself available and taunt you into seeking her out. With the death of the first of these copycat demons humanity will prove itself ready for judgement, and the brothers will fight their ridiculous fated war."
How do you stop something from breaking?
Harry's mind reeled.
How do you stop someone from dying?
He couldn't think about it. Not here. Not now. He needed to etch everything Dantalion said into his mind so he could relay it to the others. Then they could think about the repercussions.
"Thank you," he said, mouth moving on autopilot. As enlightening as this had been he didn't want to prolong this conversation. How to leave without being rude and getting himself incinerated on the spot…?
Dantalion snapped his fingers.
Without feeling a single thing, they were suddenly back in the parking lot.
Comfortable transportation, for sure, but also terrifying in the complete lack of warning sensations.
"No need to be tense," Dantalion assured. "My decision has been made, and now we are done. My people will cease watching you. In all likelihood, you and I will never meet again. Try your best not to squander my gift too much."
Internally Harry breathed a sigh of relief.
Before he could decide if he should try a more sincere expression of gratitude Dantalion vanished. The oppressive sense of being watched disappeared with him.
He slumped back against the side of his car, absolutely drained. The shopping could wait. Once he felt safe enough to drive he was heading straight back home.
There was a whole lot he needed to unpack from this unexpected meeting, and he needed as many people as possible to help him sort through it all.