“Well met, daughter of the Lightbringer,” the man below her called out. He tipped his head to her in a respectful nod. “I hope your conquests fare well.”
Ashtoreth’s heart raced. An angel? Why have human-shaped ears, then?
But there were more questions buzzing through her head, questions that couldn’t possibly have comforting answers. The Authority of Heaven didn’t invade worlds. What were they doing here, on Earth?
“You’re sure?” she said to Dazel.
“Certain,” said Dazel.
There was another question by itself: why did Dazel know an angel by sight? Just who was he?
“Ashtoreth,” Dazel said. “That’s Conquest, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”
Her eyes were fixed on the man and horse standing below her on the rooftop, ready to rush to evade them at any sudden move. But at the same time—
“Huh?” she asked. She frowned. “Conquest? There’s no horseman named Conquest.”
“Yes there is.”
“No there isn’t,” she said, eyes still locked on her enemies. “It’s War, Famine, Pestilence, and Death.”
“No,” said Dazel. “It’s Conquest, War, Famine, and Death.”
“No way!”
“Ask him.”
“No, I’m not gonna ask him, it’ll be awkward.”
“Ask him! He could be something completely different anyway.”
The man below her gave a quizzical tilt of his head. “Is something amiss, Your Highness?” he asked.
He’d greeted her as a daughter of the Lightbringer, so he at least knew a bit about who she was. Did he think she was on Hell’s side? Did that mean she was on the same side as he was? Why get her attention with an arrow if that was the case?
Also: Conquest? She knew her horsemen of the apocalypse, she was certain. There was no Conquest.
“Uh, hi!” she said. “Yes, hello. You actually have me at a bit of a disadvantage, sir.”
The man threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh as his horse tossed its mane. “Truly?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry about that.”
“No, Your Highness. It is I who should apologize. In my pride I thought my reputation would precede me. A humbling thing, to be prideful before one of your clan.” He bowed low. “I am Conquest of the Four Horsemen.”
“Told you!” Dazel whispered.
“Huh?” Ashtoreth said.
The slightest look of annoyance flitted across the man’s face before being smoothed over. “Conquest,” he said, his voice warm.
“There’s a Conquest?” she asked. “I learned a different set of Four Horsemen.”
The man below her frowned, then exchanged a glance with his horse. “Really?” he said, looking back at her. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m Conquest. I’m in the Bible.”
“He’s right,” said Dazel.
“But what about Pestilence?” she whispered.
“Maybe there’s a Pestilence in popular culture, but not in the Bible,” said Dazel.
“Seriously? I even read some of the Bible.”
“‘Some,’” Dazel echoed.
“Come on, nobody reads all of Numbers,” Ashtoreth said.
“Are you two discussing anything that I can perhaps help with?” Conquest asked.
“Okay, sorry!” Ashtoreth said back to the horseman. “I was definitely wrong there. I can admit when I’m wrong, but that’s pretty embarrassing, honestly. I think modern humans use Pestilence instead of Conquest as one of the four horsemen.”
Conquest frowned. “What?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’m in the Bible,” he protested. “They can’t write me out.”
Ashtoreth gave him an apologetic shrug.
“Why replace Conquest?” he said. “Why not Famine?” He looked down at the city beneath him. “They can’t still be dealing with Famine if they build towers like this.”
Ashtoreth shrugged. “Look, it was my mistake, okay? And I mean, what is pestilence, even? The conquest of bacterium over a person’s immune system so that they can colonize and rule over their succor-granting flesh, am I right?”
“No,” said Conquest, shaking his head. “Not really. Look, Your Highness, I appreciate that you’re trying to make me feel better about this, but we don’t need to massage the disparity into something that fits. I’m just Conquest.”
“And that’s way cooler than plagues and stuff, if you ask me,” she said.
“Somehow when you try to make it better like that, it makes me feel worse.”
She winced. “Sorry!” she said. “Anyway, uh, I gotta say that I’m kind of surprised to see you here.”
“Heaven demands this be,” he said simply.
“Heaven! Wow, yeah,” she said, nodding. She cocked her head. “So anyway what’s up with Heaven? I feel like they haven’t been in touch. And actually, Hell was planning this particular conquest for a really long time. I feel like we coulda linked up on this one, you know? You could have given us a call on the whole ‘Earth’ front.”
Conquest laughed once more, a sound that was hearty and genuine. “You are a spirited one, Princess. But surely you were brought up to know that the grand designs of the Authority of Heaven are as inscrutable to mere mortals as the contents of a holy text are to an ant.”
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Ashtoreth frowned. “Hold up,” she said defensively. “I’m not a mere mortal. I could probably scrut your design—just give me a hint or something.”
Again, Conquest laughed. “I will tell you nothing of our ultimate aims,” he said. “Long has that been the Authority’s will. But join me and you may help me attend the affairs at hand. We will level this city and destroy Earth’s strongest defenders.”
Ashtoreth sucked in a breath through her teeth. “Yeah, okay, so about that….”
Conquest cocked his head at her. His horse leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He peered at Ashtoreth, seeming suddenly suspicious.
“Surely, Your Highness, you will join me? I know your kind; even if you are not desirous of my company, you ought at least see me as a tool to use in setting yourself above the other infernals.”
As he spoke, she was conscious of Dazel using their telepathy to communicate frantically with the humans.
“Okay,” she said. “Right. About that, actually. See, the thing is, I’m actually on the side of the humans.”
He blinked. “You fight for Earth.”
“Uh-huh!” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “I’m the good Archfiend!”
“You? A daughter of the Lightbringer—are the good archfiend?”
“That’s me!” she said, grinning.
He shook his head and smiled. “The machinations of Hell are truly a ceaseless source of amusement,” he said.
“Right,” she said. “I’m glad to make you happy, really. But I’m also not going to let you hurt any of the people down there.”
“Oh?” Conquest asked. “And when did it come to be, I wonder, that the burning armies of Heaven sought permission from the Lords of Hell in anything?”
“Oh I wasn’t talking about the burning armies of Heaven and the Lords of Hell,” she said. “I was just talking about you and me.” She let a hint of steel enter her voice. “And my answer, Conquest, is no.”
He stared at her. A slow smile dawned on his face, the most genuine expression of joy she’d seen him make. “Ah, Your Highness,” he said. “I confess, I have enjoyed this conversation.” He sighed, absently stroking the mane of the white horse beside him. “Would that our purposes were not so at odds,” he said. “Would that your fate was not decided for you from before you were conceived, though I can’t see why the Lightbringer would use you thus.”
He hauled himself up into the saddle, and his horse tossed its head. “Daughter of the Lightbringer, heed me. It has long been ordained that this city you see around you will become naught but dust in a wind that has been blowing since before your mother’s name was first spoken.”
“That’s a pretty old wind,” she said. “But ancient wind or no, I’m afraid my heart insists that I abide my conscience. These people are innocent. Neither of us has a right to destroy them.”
Conquest smiled faintly, stroking the mane of his horse. “If you must speak of your heart,” he began, “then I must know: is it altogether full with the thundering edicts of conscience, or is there space there, Princess, for gentler things?”
“Uh,” Ashtoreth said, a strange feeling taking her. To Dazel, she said, “Is he….”
“He’s asking if you’re single,” Dazel said dryly.
“Oh,” she said, eyes widening.
“Two can ride astride my horse’s saddle,” said Conquest. “Your Highness, I can give you a freedom from your father that you will never find here. I can show you wonders across this cosmos such as you have never seen before and could never hope to imagine. Your yearning for virtues is but the ignorance of youth.”
He held his hand out to her. “Join me at my side,” he said “I will grant you a new set of eyes with which to see life and the many realms, and you will forget your mission. Conquer this world with me, and I will show you the marvels of infinity.”
Ashtoreth listened to all of this, her smile slowly falling from her face. “Uh, sorry,” she said once he’d finished. “How old are you again?” Ashtoreth asked.
“I am ageless,” he said. “A ray of light sent shining forth from the heavens in a distant time when time meant nothing at all.”
“Okay,” she said. “Sure. But are you older than that wind you mentioned earlier?”
“Of course.”
“Dude,” she said, wincing. “You’re older than my mom!”
Conquest laughed. “You are a Princess of Hell; I daresay you have undergone enough trials to earn the right to love. Maturity is a concept that transcends how much time a person has spent alive. Age is just a number, Your Highness—”
“Wow,” she said, cutting him off.
“Dude,” Dazel said.
“Like, wow,” Ashtoreth repeated.
“Dude.” Dazel said.
Conquest frowned. “I take it then, that your heart is set on folly?”
Ashtoreth sighed and looked at the horse. It was perfectly white, its coat shining in the light of the sun. “You’ve got to admit, though,” she said to Dazel. “That’s a really pretty horse to ride away with someone on.”
“Listen,” Dazel hissed. “I know you were born rich, and a princess, and daddy’s favorite, but you better get out of here with that horse girl shit or we are done.”
She laughed.
“Plus, if he’s this thirsty, who knows what he’s spreading around?” said Dazel. “Maybe the whole ‘Pestilence’ misunderstanding makes more sense than we initially thought.”
Ashtoreth giggled. “Say, Conquest?”
His horse tossed their mane. “Aye?” he said.
“Do you even know my name?”
Conquest’s smile flickered. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Is it Lilith?” he asked at last.
“Look,” Ashtoreth said. “I really don’t want to fight you. There’s no way to work this out?”
“Apart from you joining me?”
She laughed. “Buddy, ‘date me or we fight’ is not a good look.”
“It’s violence, then,” said Conquest, his face darkening.
“Would the other horsemen be more open to peace talks?” she asked. “Are Death and War… uh, friendlier types?”
Conquest laughed. “Do they sound like friendlier men than me?”
She shrugged. “Maybe Famine wants to sit down and talk things out while we share a baked potato?”
“I think you know the answer to that, Your Highness.”
“You sure?” she asked. “I hear the Russians have great sour cream, but I haven’t got a chance to try it yet.”
“If you’re about done,” Conquest said, reaching toward his quiver.
“Hold on,” said Ashtoreth.
He paused and looked at her expectantly.
“Before we begin, I propose we make a pact,” she said, trying to sound serious. “That even though each of us brought a powerful companion to this conflict today, our battle shall be between us and us alone.”
Conquest raised an eyebrow. “So I lose the White Horse, and you lose… the cat who looks like he’s trying to burrow into your arms and hide?”
Dazel, she admonished. Look intimidating!
“I’m a horseman, Your Highness,” Conquest said. “It’s not ‘four men of the apocalypse.’”
“Okay, true,” she said. “But maybe it could be ‘three horsemen and one great guy of the apocalypse.’ Eh? This is a chance for you to stand out!”
He laughed. “I appreciate your charm,” he said. “Especially knowing how deceptive it must be. But I don’t fight without my horse.”
“Okay,” she said in dubious tones. “But be warned—my cat is pretty terrifying.”
“No I’m not!” Dazel said.
Quiet! she hissed telepathically. To Conquest, she added: “He’s also got his own deceptive charms, you know?”
“I’m sure he does,” said Conquest. “Now. Shall we begin, Your Highness?”
Ashtoreth sighed. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Conquest’s hands blurred….