He went by a shortcut to East Heaven and stopped at Ylith's house, just to say hello, but she was not in.
A refurbished nature spirit gotten up like a cherub was mowing the lawn, a penance he had imposed on himself for past indiscretions. He told Babriel that Ylith was away leading a group of young angels to sacred shrines on Earth.
"Oh, really?" Babriel said. "What period are they visit
"I believe it's called the Renaissance," said the nature spirit.
Babriel was brooding on these matters when he walked up Shady Olive Tree Lane and came to the big white mansion on top of the hill where Michael lived. The archangel was tending to the roses in his front yard, the sleeves of his white linen gown pushed back to reveal his brawny forearms.
"Welcome back, Babriel!" said the archangel, putting down his clippers and wiping from his brow the sweet sweat of honest labor. "Did you enjoy your sojourn in Venice?"
"Immeasurably, sir. I took the opportunity of trying to improve my knowledge of the arts. For the greater glory of Good, of course."
"Of course," said Michael, with a friendly twinkle to his deep-set eyes.
"I ran into Azzie Elbub, sir."
"Saw old Azzie, did you?" said Michael, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He remembered the demon well from their last encounter during the affair of Johann Faust. "What was he up to?"
"He said he was just there for a little holiday from his duties in Hell, though I suspect he might have come there to be near the angel Ylith. She is also on Earth."
"It's possible," said Michael. "Or there could be some other reason."
"Like what, sir?"
"There are many possibilities," Michael said vaguely. "I shall have to think about this. Meanwhile, if you're quite rested, there's a lot of correspondence to take care of inside." Michael was punctilious about answering his fan mail, which came to him from all over the Spiritual Realm, and from Earth as well.
"I'll get right to it," Babriel said. He hurried inside to his little office in what had been the Servants' Wing but was now called the Honored Guests of Lesser Importance Wing.
PART THREE
Chapter 1
It was a special embarrassment for Ylith to find herself shut up in a box. She hadn't had that one tried on her since the infatuated King Priam of Troy had constructed a special box in which he hoped to put Ylith once he caught her. But he never caught her. And now Troy was long gone, and Priam along with it, and Ylith was still here, at least partially because she didn't put her head into boxes.
It only goes to show you, she thought, no sense being too proud. Just look at me now. In a box.
A pale luminous glow filled the box, revealing fields, hedges, and a line of mountains in the background.
She heard a man's soft voice at her ear.
"Ylith, what are you doing here? You seem to be in trouble. Let me help."
The lights in the box came up brighter.
"Who am I talking to?" Ylith asked.
"It's Zeus," the voice said. "I can still do things like that, even in my present reduced circumstances. But you haven't told me what you're doing here."
"Some guy kidnapped me and locked me up in here." Ylith had met Father Zeus once before, when she had been trying out for a part as a nature spirit during the Greek Revival period in Rome. Zeus had said he'd let her know, and she hadn't thought about it since.
"Why won't he let you out?" Zeus asked.
"He's afraid I'll kill him. And I will, too!"
Zeus sighed. "You sound like my daughter, Artemis. Talk about implacable! Why not try a little dissimulation?"
"What do you mean?"
"Tell this kidnapper you like the idea of being locked up in a box by him."
"He'd never believe that!"
"Try it. Kidnappers are goofy. Tell him anything. Just get free."
"You mean lie?"
"Of course."
"That wouldn't be honest!"
"You could make amends later. That's what I always did, when I remembered. Meanwhile, you'd be free."
"But we're not supposed to lie," Ylith said, though her voice was irresolute.
"Now, my dear, talk again to this human and get him to see things your way. Get back out into the world.
You're too pretty to stay shut up in a box."
Later, after she had composed herself and looked to her makeup, Ylith cried out, "Westfall? You still there?"
"Yes, I'm here."
"Aren't you supposed to be at work or something?"
"Of course. But frankly, I'm afraid of leaving you alone. I mean, maybe you could get out — or at least enchant me."
"I could enchant you anyhow," Ylith said in a sultry voice. "But you really think I'm such a vicious witch?"
"Well," Westfall said, "after you lit into me as you did, I figured I'd better be prepared for the worst."
"You got me sore," Ylith said. "No woman likes to be suddenly snatched out of what she's doing and shut into a box and delivered to somebody as if she were merchandise.
Witches are only human, you know, even the most angelic of us. We want to be courted like real ladies, not pushed around like antique tarts."
"I understand all that now," Westfall said. "But now it is too late."
"Not necessarily," Ylith said, and her voice dripped honey.
"Really?" Westfall said.
"Open the lid, Westfall. I won't hurt you. I promise on my word as an angel. Let's see how we get along."
Westfall took a deep breath and opened the lid.
Ylith came out smoking, doing her witch's impersonation of Hecate.
Westfall screamed, "You promised not to hurt me!"
The chambers were suddenly quite empty. Westfall was in a dark corner of Limbo, and Ylith had taken to the air to report back to Michael. Pandora's box was still open and glistening faintly.
Chapter 2
Azzie arrived at Aretino's door one week to the minute after he had first talked with him. Aretino welcomed the demon to his home and led him to an upper sitting room where they could take their ease on brocaded chairs and enjoy the spectacle of the lights of Venice outlining the canals. Aretino served a wine he had chosen carefully for the occasion. A servant brought in little cakes for refreshment.
A soft blue twilight lay across the city, increasing by a hundredfold its air of magic and mystery. From below came the sound of a boating song: "Ho for the life of a gondolier!" Man and demon listened to it in silence for a few moments.
Azzie was experiencing one of the finest times in his life. This was the first moment of the launching of a new enterprise. The next words he spoke would make a great change in many lives; he was about to experience his own importance as a prime mover. Azzie was to become one who shaped events rather than being shaped by them. Power, self-aggrandizement, that was what it was all about.
In Azzie's imagination the new project swelled into immediate completion. It almost seemed done immediately after it had been conceived. His vision of it was vague but grand.
It took him a moment to come back to himself and realize that everything still remained to be accomplished. "I have experienced some impatience, my dear Aretino, waiting to hear what you might come up with. Or do you consider the matter of my play beyond your competence?"
"I think I'm the only man for the job," Aretino said boldly. "But you'll judge for yourself when I tell you the legend I would like to base the play upon."
"A legend? Oh, good!" Azzie said. "I love legends. Is it about anyone I know?"
"God is in my story, and Adam, and Lucifer."
"All old friends. Do proceed, Pietro."
Aretino settled back, and, taking a sip of wine to clear his throat, began talking…
Adam was lying beside a brook in Eden when God came to him and said, "Adam, what have you been up to?"
"Me?" Adam sat up. "I've just been sitting here thinking good thoughts."
"I know you've been thinking good thoughts," God said. "I tune in on you every once in a while just to see how you're doing. That's personal God involvement at its finest. But what were you doing before those good thoughts?"