Cost of Loyalty

They took comfort in and from each other. Selina held Damian as he grieved for Jim and the friendship he could not believe had been a lie. Damian listened quietly when Selina talked laconically about her past experiences. She had, he later realized, told him far less about herself than he had told her. He wanted to know more about her -- all about her -- but he waited. Selina told him that it was not that she did not trust him, or that she did not want him to know. It was that she was uncomfortable talking about it, she had not come entirely to terms with it all.

At first, they had merely drifted through the odd land. Later, they had found parts for first one and then two motorcycles. They found things along the road, and at deserted residences -- they could not think of those places as homes. Selina thought that perhaps the waiting had been over for the people who had lived there, and they had been taken to Heaven.

All the transportation did, if they allowed themselves to think about it, was allow them to drift further more quickly than they had before. This was not necessarily an advantage. But they continued to ride and stop in an irregular but comfortable routine.

And now, thought Damian, as he held Selina closer, we will simply do it all again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... Then Selina kissed him and he remembered why Purgatory was bearable.

x-x-x-x

At the next light they set off for nowhere in particular. There was really no dawn here, nor twilight. Darkness faded to the grayness of an overcast day, which then turned back into darkness.

Selina had the uneasy feeling of being watched, but could nearly ignore it. She and Damian had felt it from their first time in Purgatory. When it persisted, she scanned her surroundings as best she could, but saw nothing. She debated whether she should tell Damian. But what could they do if it were so? There was nowhere to run, and no one to turn to for shelter.

They had found that out early on in Purgatory. No one was friendly. Eyes were empty, and so were spirits.

For his part, Damian was mired in thoughts of the past. For a couple of hours -- he guessed it to be hours, but he couldn't be sure how or if time passed here -- the scenery had seemed familiar. Slogging through hazy memories, he recognized the area as his hometown, or a reasonable facsimile. Yes, now he saw the houses, the schools, the parks... here he had grown up. He and his sisters had taken refuge in the playground. He and Jim had climbed trees in the park, swum in the river, talked about everything... Damian brooded over their last meeting.

Had he misjudged his friend so badly? Had Transition caused Jim to snap? Damian sighed. What use wondering? He would never know, and perhaps he didn't want to.

He caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. It was coming fast. He hit the brakes hard and pulled to his right, nearly falling over. His foot shot out for balance and skidded along the asphalt. He completed the spin and brought the bike under control, then stopped and cut the engine. His heart caught when he searched the road and saw Selina's motorcycle sans rider. Where could she have gone?

There was no sign of her on the road. Damian slammed his hands on the console in anger, either at himself or Selina, he couldn't be sure. Then he heard the cries.

Looking up, he saw Selina being borne off by... an angel? No, that was no angel, not unless demons were considered the angels of Hell. Damian gunned the engine and began to follow as best he could, always keeping the flying beast in sight.

A body appeared in his path before he'd gone a mile. Startled, Damian slammed the brakes and swerved, nearly throwing himself off the bike for the second time in ten minutes.

"Good reflexes," a voice said approvingly.

Panting, Damian turned to look at the speaker. She was almost but not quite human, although it was difficult to pinpoint why. Her long red hair was elaborately braided, framing an angular but not unattractive face. She was smiling, but it was malicious.

"Who are you?" he asked finally.

"My name is Alexis. Your question is actually much more complicated than that, but that's all you really wanted to know, isn't it?" She came closer as she answered, an appraising look in her eyes.

It was the eyes, thought Damian, that set her apart. As she circled him, he confirmed his suspicions. Alexis sported a pair of wings. They were brown, leathery, and tucked tightly against her back.

"I want to know where Selina is, and I want her back, not necessarily in that order," he said in a firm, controlled voice.

Alexis sighed. "Yes, we figured as much." She slid behind him on the bike and wrapped her arms around him. "Drive that way," she said, removing one hand to point.

Deliberately, Damian pulled his hands away from the controls and folded his arms across his chest. "Why should I?" he asked.

Alexis got off the bike, walked around so that she faced him, and then slapped him in the face. "Do not," she hissed, eyes narrowed, "think you can play with us. You will drive that way because that is where your sniveling little friend is if you wish to see her."

"Why don't we just fly, then?" Damian asked, refusing to retaliate on her level. "It would be faster."

"We will, don't worry." Again a smile, this time sly and inviting. "You and I will be able to fly anytime, anywhere, if you so desire. But for now, it is a long way and I cannot support us both for that long." She reseated herself. "Now, drive."

x-x-x-x

Selina struggled futilely against the talons curled around her shoulders. She thought bitterly that she had been right about being watched but wrong about by whom. After so long in Purgatory, and despite her feelings of being watched, she and Damian had hoped they had been forgotten. Apparently not.

"If you keep that up, I'm likely to drop you." The creature carrying Selina kept flying, beating its wings rhythmically, but curled its neck so that its lupine head faced her.

"Good," said Selina, ceasing for a moment to catch her breath.

The creature shook its head. "No, you don't quite understand. If I drop you, I shall be punished. I don't want that. Now keep still or I'll render you unconscious."

"One question," Selina said. The idea of being unconscious with this beast was distinctly unnerving. It would be better to go along for the moment, and perhaps escape later. "Where are we going?"

"Going?" repeated the creature in astonishment. "Going? Why, to Hell of course." Selina paled as the creature flew onward.

The landscape rolled by. Plains, mountains, skeletal forests. Then Selina noticed a subtle, sinister change. The sky became darker, and so did the land. Jagged rocks became the dominant feature. She shivered involuntarily. Gradually, the demon began to descend, and she could discern more features. But they weren't features, she thought. They were flaws. Cracks, fissures, chasms, abysses... none of it inviting.

The demon flew into an opening and Selina closed her eyes, expecting to meet one of the rock walls head on. But the demon knew the route and maneuvered easily through the caverns. At the end of the flight, the demon released his hold on Selina, who fell unceremoniously to the ground. It wasn't a long fall, merely a couple of feet, but she lay there for a moment, fighting her fear and disorientation.

"Oh, I am sorry." Selina felt a hand on her arm, helping her to stand. "It wasn't intentional, I'm sure." This voice was mostly but not quite sincere in its concern. There was an edge to the tone that put her on guard.

Selina jerked her arm back and hugged herself tightly. Looking around, she saw that she and her companion stood in a cavern. It was huge, asymmetrical and lit by torches. There was one ostentatious chair at the far end which dominated the room, but any other seats were carved haphazardly from the rock. All of them looked uncomfortable.

"Why am I here?" Selina asked, letting her arms fall to her side.

"Because I thought you might like a change of scenery," answered her host. He strode past her and sat in the throne--that was what Selina thought it must be. With a slight smile, his tar black eyes fixed on her. He had a lanky frame, but moved with sinuous grace. One long-fingered hand moved through hair that matched his eyes.

"Scenery?" asked Selina, dumbfounded. Then she rallied slightly. "You might have asked first."

"But I, my dear, am Satan. I don't need to ask. For anything." His voice had a purring quality to it. Selina didn't bother to hide her reaction of slight surprise. Who else, really, was it likely that one would meet in Hell?

"So, what do you want?" Fear was now the main emotion she tried to hide behind bravado.

"I want you," said Satan, relaxing into his chair. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and folded his tapered fingers over each other. "And your little friend, of course. I waited for some time, but I am not the most patient of beings."

"Why do you want us? We're so... insignificant." Selina was still scared, but also genuinely curious.

"You underestimate the effect of your actions back in Transition. You actually denied yourselves the option of Heaven! It was extraordinary!" Satan allowed himself a chuckle. "I was very impressed, I must tell you." He shifted in the chair, rested one arm in his lap and his chin in his other hand.

"I'm glad we entertained you," Selina said guardedly.

"Yes, yes, but then you went to Purgatory, and it was all so dull. After all you and your friend do belong to me. I became tired of waiting, as I said."

"Belong to you?"

"Quite." Satan smiled, revealing small but vicious, gleaming white teeth. "One cannot remain in Purgatory forever. You cannot go to Heaven. Think of this as a welcome to your new home."

"I don't understand," Selina said warily. "The decision was Purgatory, and then Hell if we so chose. We didn't make that choice. We haven't done anything to change the balance."

"Balance?" Satan laughed. "I don't care about balances. I care about what's mine. Specifically, you and your little friend." He fixed a bemused look on her. "I was quite surprised, actually, that you were slated for Redemption."

"Why?" Selina couldn't believe Satan would take a personal interest in her, when there were so many people in the world.

"Oh, come, my dear. The life you led? Where did you think you were going?"

"I tried..." Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stared at her feet. "I did try..."

"Not very hard, did you?" He asked sardonically. "A few weeks clear here, a few days there. I believe you even went over four months once, before you gave in and had a fix. Nothing like some heroin straight into the blood to improve your outlook, is there?" He leaned forward, eyes glittering.

"I was scared," she said, half to herself. "I didn't know what I was doing. I was too young. I didn't know enough..."

"You knew more than enough," he threw back at her. "But you thought you could handle it, didn't you?" He stood up and advanced on her. "First you thought you'd run away, but that would be all right. You'd get a job, a waitress maybe, and work for something better. But that wasn't enough. To save for so long and realize that you still had so little.

"So you let one of them talk you into prostitution. Just once, of course, to get a little extra money. But it was so much easier to make your money that way, wasn't it? And occasionally you'd get a good meal or an evening out of it. But it was painful, emotionally painful."

Selina shut her eyes and tried to shut her ears to the searing, true words. He continued, in a low, intense tone, circling as he spoke. Tears began to run down her face.

"Then someone told you about a drug that would eliminate the pain. But it never really went away, so you needed heavier doses of stronger drugs." The words slid over Selina, who wanted so badly to wipe them away but was paralyzed. "And the better drugs cost more money, don't they?

"So now you had to do more to earn the money. More sex. Then stealing, I believe. Lucky you were never caught." He stopped circling her. "A few lucid moments here and there and you swore you'd stop. But you never could... and you never wanted to, did you?"

Selina fell to her knees and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. She had wanted to stop, she had... but it had been so hard... There had been nowhere to go, she couldn't return home, they didn't want her. Caught up in a vicious circle, she had seen no way out.

"But, like all of them, you're ashamed of it. Think it makes you a bad person..." He leaned down and caught her shoulder in a vise-like grip, speaking sharply. "And you were right, you know. How you balanced out up there, I'll never understand. Have you told your friend about what you were? What you still are?"

No, she thought despairingly, she had never told Damian. Although he always said that the past no longer mattered, she had never been able to bring herself to tell him. She had never been able to believe that she had done all those things. Sometimes it seemed as though she were on the brink of telling him everything, but something always held her back.

"Enough of this," Satan said impatiently. "Your friend should be here soon. We can't have you looking like this. Preparations are necessary." He yanked her to her feet.

"Preparation?" Selina felt her skin crawl as she tried to bring herself under control.

"But of course." Satan offered her his arm. "Angels must have wings."

x-x-x-x

Alexis guided Damian through the most desolate terrain he had ever seen, even in Purgatory. He was careful, but expected a flat tire, or worse, any minute. She directed him down into a large fissure, which quickly widened into a tunnel, permitting better maneuverability.

At last, she shouted, "Stop!" over the roar of the engine. Her command was amplified by the cavern walls. After Damian cut the power, she slid off and said, "Follow me."

"Where to?" he asked, forcing himself to dismount in a casual manner. He did not want to seem hurried, or afraid. At the moment, he felt he could only follow his instincts, which told him to move slowly and keep alert, so that if the chance arose for him to take control of the situation, he would be ready.

"To meet your host," Alexis said with a wink. "He's been waiting to meet you for quite some time." She turned and led him through what seemed like endless tunnels. The ground was rough, and the irregular click-clack of falling pebbles was a constant accompaniment. The last tunnel opened into the large cavern where the demon had dropped Selina. Alexis stopped him before they crossed the threshold. Damian gaped at the sheer immensity of the space. Alexis tapped softly on a ragged piece of quartz sitting by the entrance. Satan turned at the sound.

"Ah, Alexis, my dear!" he said, pleased. "You have returned. I see you managed to deliver my invitation." He gave Damian an expansive smile. With the change in his attention, Alexis left.

"Welcome, welcome," Satan told Damian warmly. Then an apologetic tone crept into his voice. "I'm sorry that your companion had to be brought in first. But I'm sure you understand, we had to be sure that you would come." He sauntered up to the throne and lounged in the seat. "Tell me, what do you think of your new home?"

"This is not my home," Damian said quietly. "I don't have time for this. Where is Selina?"

"No time?" Satan chuckled, but Damian thought he saw the charming facade begin to slip away just then. "My dear boy, you have nothing but time. And that was merely a stroke of luck. It's amazing what problems a little logic can cause." Again that small laugh, low in the throat, with a hint of menace creeping in. "Time, however, does eventually weigh on the best of us, even me. I grew weary of waiting for you."

"Sorry to have imposed on your time. We'll take up no more of it." Damian looked around the cavern, but saw no sign of Selina. Her absence began to nag at him more sharply, though he refused to let it show.

"Why are the two of you so hard to convince?" Satan shook his head. "Selina gave me much the same replies. Look, Damian," he leaned forward, taking a conversational tone, "how long do you think you could have kept going? Before you tired of it, tired of each other? Come on now, be honest."

"Why should I be?" Damian looked directly into Satan's black eyes. "You're the Prince of Lies. Yet you demand honesty from me?" He laughed shortly. "How ironic."

"Answer my question," Satan said, his eyes flashing.

"As long as necessary," Damian said.

Satan leaned back and waved his hand dismissively. "Words. Sincere, perhaps. Brave. But words nonetheless. Face it, Damian, it was only a matter of time before you came here. Why they decided to slate you for Redemption is something I don't think I'll quite understand. You did commit suicide after all."

Damian was startled into silence by that comment. Had he committed suicide? No, that had been Jim. Damian had gotten drunk, true. And rammed into a truck, true. But that was the result of the alcohol, not a death wish.

Wasn't it?

"You know, you're both odd cases," Satan continued. Damian forced himself to concentrate on what was being said. "I thought there would be no question that the two of you would come to Hell. So you can imagine how glad I was when the two of you chose against Heaven."

"We did that," said Damian, "but that doesn't mean we chose this place."

"So you'd like to think," said Satan, laughing again. "As I said, Selina's logic threw a nice monkey wrench into the proceedings, but only temporarily."

"How's that?" Damian asked.

"Well, she had a point, you see," Satan explained. "If she hadn't, there wouldn't have been such a commotion. Here they are, going on about free will, and aspiring to act in the image of Christ, and when you actually do it, you confuse them to no end. No one, or not many, saw the challenge presented to them, but she did. They weren't ready for it."

"That isn't our problem," Damian observed.

"It certainly became your problem," Satan shot back. "That's why we're having this conversation instead of you wandering around out there in sackcloth and ashes and wailing in agonized repentance."

Damian was silent. This was true. Perhaps not exactly as it had been phrased, but close enough to be accurate. Because there were two conceivably valid logical trails, there had been a collision. Selina had tried to extricate them from the scene of a major accident with only minor injuries.

"Tell me something," Satan said in a conspiratorial tone, "would you actually have repented?"

"I suppose." Damian was startled by the question.

"You know," Satan said, "there are some who don't. They wander around for, oh, quite a while, and finally get fed up with it. I mean, who are they up there to decide how long a person should spend pounding their chests and living in filth? A few -- the wise few, in my mind -- realize that this is not just, or fair. Subservience is not exactly considered a virtue in your world, is it?"

"I guess not." Damian felt himself losing control of the conversation, if he had ever possessed it.

"You guess, you suppose," Satan sneered. "Don't you ever mean anything? I remember the things you used to say. You and Jim, whiling away the hours. You said them as though you meant them, but now I wonder. All your fine talk of honor and friends forever -- where did it get you?"

"Those things did not get me here," Damian countered. "You did."

"True. And I recommend that you not forget that fact." Satan stood up and dusted off his sleeves. "You're here now, and here you'll be staying, as it should have been. Come along, I'll show you were you'll be... quartered."

"Where is Selina?" Damian asked. "I'm not going anywhere until I see her."