Prospero in Hell by L. Jagi Lamplighter Read Free Book Online Page B

low. “I just didn’t want to believe it. Our family has always been so loyal to the Powers for Good! How long has this been going on?”
    “For all we know, Ma’am, your brother may be Prince Mephistopheles, the same Mephistopheles who tempted Faust.”
    “I forgot to check when Kit wrote his play, was it 1608?”
    Mab flipped through his notebook. “I looked it up. Here it is: Marlowe wrote in the late 1500s, but the first mention historically of the demon Mephistopheles is in the German legends of Faust that appeared in 1587. Of course, historical records are only so accurate, thanks to your friends the
Orbis Suleimani
.”
    “Not
my
friends,” I murmured, adding, “Mephisto was still a member back then. Who knows what historical evidence he could have had altered or destroyed?”
    “Or maybe that’s when the demon Mephistopheles first appeared. Back on Logistilla’s island, I asked questions about what everyone in your family was doing in 1589, when your Father moved back to Italy.” Mab flipped through his notebook again and tapped his finger beside a particular note. “Here it is. Mephisto reported, and I quote: ‘I was in Germany, learning a new trade.’ ”
    “You think he was learning…”
    “. . . to steal men’s souls? I wouldn’t put it past him.”
    “But if so…” I gazed in consternation at the larger-than-life depictions of Hell looming about me.
    “If so, what?”
    “Why isn’t he more evil?” I cried. “Why does he never seem to harm anyone? When he was in his big demon form all he did was save us. Could his goofiness all be an act?”
    “Maybe, if the maenad was lying about him being more forgetful when you’re not around. Though when she did lie—about not knowing about the bat-winged form—it was as obvious as a garden fence that had been visited by a Mack Truck, so maybe she’s telling the truth.” Mab shrugged. “Or maybe, he’s forgotten he was supposed to be evil, ma’am, along with everything else. He neglected to stick up a Post-It reading: CORRUPT SIX SOULS WEEKLY. So, he doesn’t.”
    “Could be…” I chuckled in spite of myself. Then, all laughter died. “If so, Mab, then I’m very glad we’re leaving him here. I recently read an essay of Father’s on the effect of exposure to demons on the human soul. It was… horrifying! Each demon is associated with some sin or vice. Just being in the vicinity of the demon increases one’s susceptibility to its ruling sin. Father described it with the analogy: imagine our soul was made of iron filings and the demon was a magnet. Whenever the demon comes near, the whole mass of filings moves in that direction. If Mephisto is a demon…” My knees felt suddenly weak.
    “Maybe the effect only happens if he’s in his demon form,” Mab suggested. “We only saw him that way for a few minutes.”
    “Maybe…” But I was thinking about Mephisto’s way with women, and how I had let Ferdinand kiss me by the hearth in the Lesser Hall. Had I really wanted to kiss him? Or had I been swayed toward weakness by exposure to my brother, the fiend from the Pit?
    Mab, meanwhile, scanned the third wall, his gaze pausing upon the face of each of the Seven Rulers of Hell, all of whom Mephisto had painstakingly depicted. “You never did find out who was behind the Unicorn Hunters, did you? Whoever gave Mephisto that cloak is depicted somewhere on this wall. His note said that he made it to remind him of things. And the note on the chameleon cloak hanger said GIVEN TO ME BY—SEE MURAL HALL. This has got to be the mural hall!”
    “You think the secret enemy of Eurynome is here?” I spun and began searching the infernal bas-relief, but the Nine Circles of Hell revealed no secrets to me. Lilith was portrayed there, of course, my Lady’s enemy of old. Could she have been behind it? As I turned slowly, examining the rest of the carvings for any hint or clue, however, my eyes fell upon a pale yellow Post-It on the floor beneath