Free The War in Heaven by Kenneth Zeigler Page B

closer to the door to better discern the words. “What are they talking about, if you don’t mind my asking?”
    “It sounds like a matter of security,” replied Bedillia.
    It didn’t seem like Bedillia wanted to elaborate on that topic further, so Tom changed the subject somewhat. “Do Satan and his brood speak it too?”
    “They speak a dialect of it,” was the reply. “It is a bit more harsh and guttural, but it is essentially the same language, or so I’ve been told. I’ve rarely heard it.”
    Bedillia paused for several minutes before stepping in. Tom followed. The room beyond was large and brightly lit, not by a single crystal in the ceiling but a multitude of them, set like candles in a chandelier of gold and fine crystal. There was another metal door, the color of bronze on the far wall, with large Chinese-looking symbols etched into its surface. The walls of the room were adorned by large almost breathtaking paintings of forests, meadows, and a dazzling city that Tom assumed had to be in Heaven. Surely no earthly city could boast of such grandeur. Upon a black marble table at the back corner of the room, a clear glass sphere, about a foot in diameter, sat upon a round metal base. To Tom, it looked like a fortuneteller’s crystal ball.
    Eight dark angels sat around a large rectangular table of white polished marble in the middle of the room. All possessed great black wings like that of a mighty crow, and all but two were cloaked head to toe in a black robe with long flowing sleeves. The remaining two were decked out in glistening chain mail armor. From the belts of the armored angels hung large swords sheathed in jeweled scabbards. At Bedillia’s entrance, they all turned and then stood in unison.
    “Selane et entraeus, carba se ling,” she said to the gathered assembly, bowing slightly.
    “It is quite all right,” assured the angel in armor at the far end of the table. “We were just concluding our business. You are welcome here among us, as are you Dr. Tom Carson.”
    The other armored angel turned to see Tom and smiled. “I am pleased to see you awake and on your feet. I am Lenar.”
    “Yes,” said Tom, “I remember you. Thank you.”
    “It was our privilege,” assured Lenar.
    Then Tom’s eyes shifted to the angelic being at the head of the table. He remembered him too—the short beard, dark penetrating eyes, and burley face. That face would be engraved in his mind forever. He had introduced himself at the time of his deliverance. “Thank you for freeing me, Abaddon. I owe you more than I could ever say.”
    “And you’ll have the opportunity to repay me,” assured Abaddon, a slight smile coming to his face. “I desire to speak to you at length; however, there is a more pressing matter that requires my attention. In truth, it is a matter associated with your rescue from that altar. You humans might call it a ‘loose end.’ I made a foolish mistake during your rescue. Hopefully, it is not too late to correct it.”
    Abaddon turned to Lenar. “My brother, meet me at the ring in ten minutes. Hopefully, this will be a quick, simple mission. Hopefully. Our meeting is adjourned until the fifteenth hour, at which time I shall report on the state of the damage, if any. I pray this mission does not make matters all the worse.”
    The angels filed out of the room, leaving only Abaddon, Tom, and Bedillia. Abaddon turned to Tom. “Walk with me for a few minutes. I’m sure you have many questions.”
    The three walked from the room into the hallway. Tom anticipated getting a few answers from this enigmatic dark angel, yet it was Abaddon who asked the first question.
    “Dr. Carson, why does Hell exist?”
    Tom was taken aback. His experience with Hell had been on the most personal of levels. To him, the answer was obvious. Or was it? “Once, I would have said it was where the evil people of the world could be punished for their crimes against humanity. That is, if I’d believed that it