who had inadvertently returned the Morningstar to the Hell prison of Tartarus, where Lucifer’s memory of who he was—what he was—was eventually restored.
“I have no idea,” Lucifer lied. “I’m barely familiar with the angel.”
Donahan looked up from his scribbles. “Seriously? I got a sense that the two of you . . .”
“The messenger was mistaken.” Then Lucifer cut to the chase. “When will the suit be ready?”
Donahan considered whether to continue with his course of questioning and decided instead to drop it.
It was a very smart idea.
“How does tomorrow sound?” the tailor asked.
“Tomorrow?” Lucifer questioned. “Slowing down in your old age, are we?”
The old fallen angel shrugged.
“I suppose that’s fine,” Lucifer said. “I’ll send someone to pick it up.”
Donahan went back to his notepad. “Very good, sir.”
Lucifer walked to the front of the store, stopping before a display of ties as though he were considering the various styles, colors, and patterns, but in fact his mind was preoccupied with other things.
Distractions.
A distraction named Remy Chandler.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The closer they drew to the Garden, the thicker the vegetation became.
The ruins of the city were becoming more choked with leafy vines, many of the structures nearly invisible in the overgrowth. Remy imagined a time not too far in the future when the city would be completely hidden, claimed by the outward-spreading Garden of Eden, and decided it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Thriving life was far more preferable to decaying ruins.
“Can’t imagine it will be much farther,” said a voice from behind.
Remy turned to see the Fossil hurrying to catch up with him, ahead of the weary-looking children of Samson.
“How are they doing back there?” Remy asked of the children.
“They’re tired,” the Fossil said. “Tired and sad.”
Remy turned and made eye contact with Leila. He could see the sadness behind their intensity. “It isn’t easy to lose family,” he said, speaking from experience. The image of the freezer floor at Methuselah’s appeared within his mind, and he quickly pushed it away.
“No,” the Fossil said. “But they knew this trip wouldn’t be an easy one.”
“I haven’t seen Baarabus since . . . ,” Remy began, looking around for signs of the demonic dog.
“He’s around,” the Fossil said. “Where else does he have to go?”
“He hates me for making him into what he is,” Remy said.
“You’re right, but there isn’t much that can be done about it now. You did what you did, and he’s the end result, good or bad.”
“I shouldn’t have done it.”
The Fossil looked at him and smiled crookedly, his face a mass of painful-looking sores. “Actually, you didn’t.”
“It was still me.”
“But it wasn’t,” the Fossil corrected. “That decision was made by a Remy Chandler changed by the most horrific situation.”
“Who’s to say that I wouldn’t have done the exact same thing?”
“Who’s to say?” the Fossil agreed with a shrug. “But you—the Remy who is here with us now—didn’t make that decision, weren’t changed by the horrors of what you saw.”
Remy stared at the man, the meaning of his words beginning to permeate.
“You’re a different Remy,” the Fossil continued. “And maybe your solution to the problem of this world will be different, too.”
“Is that why you’re all still here?” Remy asked, gazing at the path ahead of them. He could just make out the heavily robed Nomads as they led the way through the weed-choked rubble. “Because there’s still a chance that I can somehow salvage something from this wreck of a world?”
“It’s because you’ve saved us by giving us a purpose.”
“This is a purpose?” Remy scoffed.
“It’s something. It’s movement toward what could be a new beginning.”
“That’s what the Nomads keep talking about: an ending for something new to begin,” Remy said.
“It’s that new beginning that keeps us going,” the Fossil said. “And besides, it’s better than sitting around just waiting to die.”
The Pitiless pistol, the Godkiller, pulsed at Remy’s waist, and he felt compelled to pull it free. “Somehow this is the answer,” he said, admiring the powerful weapon that glistened like gold even though there was very little light. “My other self hid this away until he was ready.”
“But are you ready?” the Fossil asked.
“I think I am. At least I think I will be when the time arrives.”
Remy remembered some of the flashes of memory he’d seen upon taking up the gun. He saw the dark-skinned man with the rings, his identity and role a complete and utter mystery, but somehow Remy knew he was important.
“What’s your part in all this, old-timer?” Remy asked the Fossil, wondering if