“I've got your back, Brother,” Brevyn said.
Then they hugged while my heart melted.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Cases of Hellbrew had been fetched from Hell, and all of Heaven got liquored up. The Cherubim chugged brew straight from the bottle, but the more refined Dominions sipped it from wineglasses. Even the Seraphim, the six-winged Angels doomed to fly around Jerry's throne, singing “Holy, holy, holy,” whenever he was on it (but who always sang “Holly, Holly, Holly,” instead) joined us. When Luke informed them that they'd never have to do that nonsense again, they began singinghispraises instead of his wife's.
All the Angels sang Brevyn's praises, lining up to thank him personally for their freedom. And my little boy took it all like a grown man, so composed and with a kind word for each of them. He was a born king, and someday, Alfheim, the Norse territory that he inherited from my mother, would be lucky to have him as its ruler. Maybe I'd take Brevyn for another visit there soon. His people should get to know him as he grew up. They deserved to see what I did; that their king was also a hero. Or maybe, in this case, I should call him a savior.
After Brevyn received the Host's gratitude and all the children had eaten their fill of heavenly desserts, we climbed the sparkling white stairs to the Throne of God—a great, big, golden monstrosity. No one sat on the throne, not even Lucifer. Instead, we sprawled on the marble floor before it, around the glass panel that covered the Guf. My children were fascinated by the tiny faces of the souls swimming in the shimmering mist and the branches of the Tree of Life that could be glimpsed just beyond. They laid on the glass and waved at the souls, pressing their faces against the panel to leave nose and lip prints behind. I can't imagine what those poor souls thought. Hopefully, they were as entertained as the rest of us.
Luke disappeared with Jesus for a while, taking him behind the throne and into Jerry's home to have a private conversation. When they returned, Jesus looked different. More somber. Less like the J-man. I assumed their talk was about his father's unavoidable demise.
“Who's going to take the souls out of the Guf now that Gabriel's dead?” I asked Lucifer as he settled on the floor between Azrael and Holly.
Luke looked at Jesus for an answer.
“Lailah can do it,” Jesus said. “I'm sure she'll do a better job than Gabriel.”
“That reminds me, thanks for the assist, Thor,” I called over to him.
Thor was sitting on the edge of the platform, his feet on the steps, with Pan and Horus beside him, all three of them staring out at Heaven. He turned to look at me over his shoulder. “Anytime, Vervain. It was my pleasure to give that,”—he glanced at the kids, then continued, “that jerk what he deserved.”
“Isn't anyone worried about what Jerry might get up to before we catch him?” Persephone asked.
She hadn't been at the fight, but Hades had gone to fetch her and baby Deme once the party started. Horus had done the same with Katie and Astie, who were both sprawled beside Persephone on a baby blanket, and Luke had fetched Holly from Hell when he'd gone for the Hellbrew.
“He'll be running scared,” Luke said. “He won't have the time to do anything.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Austin said again. He'd been standing before the throne for nearly half an hour, just staring at it and saying those words.
“Austin, sit down,” I said.
He swung his head to look at me, eyes wide. “Are you nuts? I'm not sitting on God's holy throne!”
“Notthere.” I laughed. “Come and sit with us. Enjoy the view.” I waved at the city. “Or go party it up with the Angels. You're in Heaven and you're not dead. Go have some fun.”
“Yes, do anything other than what you're currently doing,” Re drawled. “You're getting annoying.”
“This isGod's throne!” Austin pointed at it. “And those are human souls!” He swung his finger toward the Guf. “My awe is valid.”
“Humans.” Re rolled his golden eyes.
“I think you should sit on the throne,” Jesus said as he got up.
“What?!” Austin gaped at him.
“Someone has to,” Jesus said with a shrug. “Avoiding it is a total cop-out. We're acting as if it has power, but it doesn't. It's just a dumb chair. My father didn't even make it, Luke did. We need to protest its authority and what better way to do that than for an ex-human to cop a squat? Go ahead, Austin, give it a try.”
“Sweet Jesus,” Austin whispered again.
Jesus chuckled and went to usher Austin forward. “Not always.”
“No.” Luke stood up. “It is just a chair, but it is also a symbol of the power of Heaven. Don't make light of it.”
Jesus sighed. “It's a symbol of the Man's authority, and he ain't in control anymore.”
“No,youare. Take your throne, Jesus.”
