Since the beginning of time, Hell had always resembled a vast and gloomy cavern, boundless and seemingly infinite in size, with a sulfurous smell in the air, an oppressive heat rising from pools of fire and magma dotted all around, and the incessant bleating of tormented sinners. That was what Dream of the Endless expected to find when he arrived there, intent on retrieving what had been stolen from him. He was surprised to see that everything was different from what he'd expected. At first, he wondered if he had come to the wrong place. Had his powers diminished to such an extent that he was no longer able to travel wherever he wished? Perhaps. If that was so, before he could move on, he would need to know where he was and exactly how he'd got there.
Looking around, he realized he was inside a dismal office building. Harsh electric lights shone down from above, leaving nowhere for the shadows to hide. The ceiling fans were sputtering and straining as if they were on the verge of choking to death. Along the walls, there were motivational posters with captions such as 'Teamwork makes the dream work!' and 'Push yourself because no one else is going to do it for you!' However, these were mostly hidden behind towering piles of paperwork that had been propped up against them, which may have been in an attempt to hide them from view. And beyond the corridor he was standing in, there was a room that seemed impossibly large. Rows of cubicles stretched far into the distance, in every direction, thousands upon thousands of them. So many.
Peering into one of the cubicles, he saw a bald, muscular man, heavily tattooed and missing one of the fingers on his left hand, who was sitting at a desk and staring at a computer screen.
"Who are you?" Dream demanded to know. "What is this place?"
The man gave no sign that he had heard or even that he was aware of anything going on around him, not even when Dream waved a hand in front of his face.
"What is going on here?" Dream wondered aloud.
In each of the other cubicles, those he bothered to look in, he saw someone else who was seated in front of a computer screen, still and statue-like. All of them had folded hands and vacant expressions on their faces.
And then he saw three misshapen figures standing by a water cooler, holding disposable plastic cups and wearing ill-fitting suits. They were demons, he realized.
One of them looked like a muscular man with yellow skin, red eyes and webbed ears. He was wearing a rumpled superhero costume under his business suit, which kept poking out in odd places. The name tag pinned to his jacket said 'Etrigan'.
Another was fat, oleaginous and had a pathetic look about him. He had nubby little horns and stubby wings. His name tag said 'Scumspawn'.
And there was one who could have passed for human if not for his long, forked tongue, off-white skin and the barbed tail sticking out of the back of his trousers. Apparently, his name was 'Gary'.
They were having a whispered conversation while taking occasional sips of water and sadly shaking their heads. Dream paused to listen to them.
"–not like the good old days," said Gary. "I mean… sick days? Public relations? Customer satisfaction surveys? I'm a demon, not an office drone!"
"I'm sure she's doing her best. She's new to the job; you've got to expect a few teething troubles," said Scumspawn.
"Teething troubles?! She's turning us into a laughing stock!"
"Down here in Hell, all is not well," said Etrigan.
Dream decided to interrupt. "So, this is Hell," he said. "Much has changed since the last time I visited."
The demons turned to look at him.
"Lucifer's gone," said Gary, hawking a disgusting gobbet of phlegm onto the office carpet, where it began to crawl along like a slug, eating into the floor as it went. "We're under new management."
Dream was surprised enough that he momentarily forgot the original reason for his visit to Hell. "What happened to Lucifer?"
Gary shrugged. "He's on vacation. No idea when or if he'll be back."
"He's gone on vacation, much to our consternation," said Etrigan. "When will he return to his station? All we have is speculation."
"A rhymer," said Dream, remembering that it was the custom for demons of a certain rank to say everything in rhyming couplets, though they didn't seem to care about rhythm or meter or any of the other conventions of poetry. At one point, a rhymer had taken over Hell and become its new ruler, albeit briefly. Of course, that had been one of Lucifer's schemes. Such things seemed to amuse him. Presumably, that was why he had once again abandoned his throne and passed it on to someone else. He would be back, eventually, the same as always. "Etrigan. Yes, Merlin's demon. The half-man. I remember you. You've risen in Hell's hierarchy, I see."
"Things change… in Earth and Hell," said Etrigan. "Oh well."
"And who are you? Um… should I call you 'sir'? Or 'my lord'?" asked Scumspawn, looking Dream up and down. "If you don't mind me asking, I mean."
Dream resisted the urge to shake his head and wonder how such a sniveling coward had survived among the demons of Hell. Perhaps his peers considered him to be so pathetic that bullying him would be a waste of effort.
"I have many names. But I am the King of Dreams, one of the Endless," he said. "I seek an audience with Lord Lucifer. Or his replacement, whoever that may be."
"She's called Tanya Degurechaff, the Devil of the Rhine," Scumspawn informed him.
The name meant nothing to Dream, so he merely nodded.
"I'm sure she'll be willing to see you right away, so long as she can clear a space in her diary." Gary sneered. "Honestly, she's mental! Absolutely stark raving loony!"
Scumspawn and Etrigan warily stepped away from him, as if retreating to a safe distance.
"Oh, don't be like that! You know it as well as I do! I mean, what's all this nonsense about customer service? Public relations? Health and safety? Hah, back in the old days, I never thought about 'health and safety' while I was dipping someone in a vat of boiling oil! Or when I was ripping their guts out with a big meat hook. Or forcing them to eat whatever bits I'd sliced off them. No, back then, when they screamed in agony, I knew I was doing a good job. Because they're sinners. They deserve to be punished. That's what they're here for!" Gary yelled, wildly gesticulating and spilling his half-empty cup of water. "I've been doing this job for thousands of years – and so has everyone else – so why does she think we still need training? And why does her idea of 'training' involve being shot at by artillery? It's almost as if we're the ones being punished, not any of the rapists and murderers who're supposed to be suffering eternal torment! What's the point of any of this?"
"The sinners are still being punished, but Lady Tanya… um, she prefers methods that are cleaner and more efficient," said Scumspawn, as if dutifully reciting what he'd been told. "They're all in solitary confinement, in these cubicles."
"Alone with their thoughts and the knowledge of what they did. Oblivious of the crowds they are amid."
"Just another form of torture. It may be 'cleaner', but it is no less horrific for those subjected to it," said Dream, remembering the decades he'd been trapped in the cellar beneath Roderick Burgess's manor house.
"As you say, your lordship," said Scumspawn, with what was probably meant to be an ingratiating smile.
"Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss."
Gary snorted derisively. "Pah! What do you know?"
During his previous visits to Hell, Dream had endured a great many insults from the demons he'd met along the way. Some of them had been impressively creative and sickeningly obscene. By comparison, Gary was merely rude. Even so, Scumspawn emitted a frightened squeal and hid behind his hands, peering through the gaps in his stubby fingers, as if expecting him to take brutal revenge upon anyone who disrespected him.
"Enough of this," said Dream. "I must speak to your new ruler."
"I'll escort you to her," Scumspawn offered. "I–"
He was interrupted by the arrival of three more demons. One of them had pale red skin and was dressed in what looked like an expensively tailored suit, complete with gold pocket watch on the end of a chain. The other two flanked him on either side. They were huge and thuggish-looking, dressed in plain blue uniforms with 'Security' badges.
"No need for that. I'll take over from here," said the well-dressed demon, causing Scumspawn to grovel and Etrigan to bow his head, which presumably indicated that he was of a particularly high rank. Baring his gleaming white teeth in what could be interpreted as either a smile or a threat display, he said, "Good King of Dreams, if you'll come with me, I'll lead you to where Her Infernal Majesty is waiting."
"Um. She doesn't like being called that…"
The well-dressed demon ignored Scumspawn's muttering, except that his smile grew even wider.
"I recognise you. You're the one they call 'the First of the Fallen'," said Dream. "You were the ruler of Hell at one time, weren't you?"
"Oh, several times. And each time I was supplanted by someone else. Now, I am just one of our new ruler's senior managers."
"And I'm sure you're planning to overthrow her at the earliest opportunity," Dream surmised. "As usual."
Instead of replying, the First of the Fallen signaled to the two thuggish demons he'd brought with him, turned to Gary and said, "By the way, it's time for your performance review."
Before Gary had time to register what had just been said to him, the thuggish demons seized him by the arms and started dragging him away. "No, please!" he wailed, struggling ineffectually. "Anything but that! Somebody help me!"
He was still screaming in terror even as his captors heaved him through a doorway and out of sight.
"Shall we go?" asked the First of the Fallen, baring his teeth at Dream once again.
Dream noticed that Etrigan and Scumspawn had fled, which was just as well since he had nothing else to say to them and no reason to tarry. He inclined his head, just slightly, and said, "Yes, take me to Lady Tanya."
The First of the Fallen guided him through what might have been the maze-like nightmares of a lifelong bureaucrat, until at last they reached a polished wooden door with a brass plaque fixed to it. It was inscribed with the words 'Tanya Degurechaff, Chief Executive Officer'.
"I can go no further. You must go on alone. Our new ruler is waiting," said the First of the Fallen. "I've been told she is very keen to meet you."
"No doubt," said Dream, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
He entered what appeared to be a large and well-appointed office room with all the usual furnishings and executive toys as well as a window looking out over a sea of cubicles. So many. I had not thought death had undone so many. Or so the poet said.
Sitting on a comfortable sofa by the window, there was a slender blonde woman with tiny horns budding from her forehead, a whiplike spiked tail, and leathery wings sprouting through holes in the back of her smart business suit. Next to her and weeping into her shoulder, there was a haggard woman dressed in rags. Despite the dust and filth she was coated with, Dream would have recognized her anywhere. To him, she was and always would be the most beautiful woman in the world. In any world.
Nada. He gazed numbly at her. Why did she bring you here? To taunt me?
It appeared that they were engrossed in their conversation and hadn't noticed him. "–don't deserve to be in Hell. Your being here is a great injustice, which I would rectify if I had the power," said the blonde woman, who must be Tanya Degurechaff. "You should be entitled to a substantial amount of compensation!"
"And… h-how would you compensate me for ten thousand years of torture?" Nada wondered through the tears that dribbled down her face. "Can you free me at last? Take away all the pain and horror I have suffered? Give me a new life?"
"No, I can't," Tanya admitted. Then, she raised her head, gazed directly at Dream and smirked. "But he can."
Nada looked up. Her eyes filled with desperate hope. "Kai'ckul! Dreamlord! I hoped one day you would come to me! Free me, my love, please!"
"I greet you, Nada. I…" Dream's voice trailed off into silence. He had no idea what he wanted to say to her.
"Kai'ckul! Free me, lord! You ordered me confined here! Your forgiveness can free me!" She looked as if she would once again burst into tears. "Don't you love me?"
"Yes, I still love you. But I have not yet forgiven you," said Dream.
He was surprised when Tanya sprung to her feet and exploded at him: "She doesn't need to be forgiven! She's done nothing wrong!"
"Your predecessor was many things. Vain. Cruel. Manipulative. But he at least knew how to be a good host," said Dream, glaring at her. "He would have known that it is customary for introductions to take place before you start berating your guests."
For a moment, she looked at him with utter contempt. Then, it was as if her face was hidden behind a mask of iron self-control. "Fine. Call me Tanya. I've had many lives and almost as many names, but most often I've been called 'Tanya Degurechaff'. I'm the new ruler of Hell, Lucifer's replacement, for my sins. And you are?"
"Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams. Prince of Stories. Nada's people called me 'Kai'ckul'." He gave a small shrug. "Like you, I have many names."
"I'm pleased we have something in common," said Tanya. "Now, let's talk about Nada and why she doesn't deserve to be in Hell. She has committed no sin–"
"She killed herself. Many would consider suicide to be a sin against God," said Dream. "Even if I hadn't ordered her to be confined here, she would have been sent to Hell just for that."
"Because people's lives and bodies belong to God and not themselves, or so certain religious leaders have said. It's an idea I find utterly horrifying. If people don't own themselves, they are nothing but slaves." Tanya grimaced. "Besides, it's a topic that has been debated for centuries. Personally, I agree with those who think suicide victims have diminished responsibility for their actions. After all, they wouldn't want to kill themselves if they weren't under terrible strain. Therefore, unless they've committed other crimes for which they deserve to be punished, they shouldn't be in Hell."
"Nada was a pagan, so she was always destined to go to Hell," Dream pointed out.
"She would have gone to Limbo, with the other 'virtuous pagans', I suppose. Except they don't get tortured, even if it is part of Hell." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she continued, "Their only punishment is that they never get to bask in the 'love' and 'grandeur' of Being X."
For a moment, Dream was confused by her mention of 'Being X', but then he realized: "You mean God."
"Whatever he calls himself." Tanya gave a disdainful shrug. "It seems unfair that people should be eternally damned for making the 'wrong' choice when they were never given a chance to make a choice at all, doesn't it? Still, at least unbaptised children are no longer sent to Limbo, not for the past decade or so. I suppose that's something to be thankful for."
"You may think it's unfair, but you don't make the rules. You are Hell's overseer, not its legislator," Dream reminded her.
"Justice is the purpose of this place. Here in Hell, the wicked are punished and those who escaped justice in life must finally suffer the consequences of their actions. 'Justice inspired my exalted creator' or so it says on the main gate." As she spoke, Tanya's flinty gaze was fixed on Dream, as if she was dreaming up ways she'd like to punish him for his misdeeds. "It is not a place for jilted immortals to take revenge on the women who've rejected them. At least, it shouldn't be."
She turned away from Dream as if uninterested in continuing their conversation. Instead, she sat down again and put her arms around Nada as if trying to comfort her. Dream watched her uneasily. He knew there were lust demons such as succubi and incubi who used sexual wiles to tempt mortals into damning themselves, so he couldn't discount the possibility that Tanya was trying to seduce Nada, presumably as a way of taunting him. However, all of the lust demons he'd ever met had been extraordinarily beautiful, which Tanya most certainly was not. Oh, some people would describe her face as 'cute' or even 'pretty', but next to Nada she was very plain. Also, lust demons tended to be sensuous and scantily clad, hinting at concupiscent delights with their every immodest movement, whereas the new ruler of Hell was smartly and conservatively dressed, seeming to move with almost exaggerated briskness, like a soldier at a parade ground.
"You seem personally offended by what I did to Nada," Dream mused. In his mind, he sifted through what little he knew of Tanya's motivations, but he could find no answer. "Why is that?"
"I was mortal, once," says Tanya. "A human like any other." A rueful smirk hovered about her lips. "Except I had magical powers and memories of a past life, which in some ways was an advantage. And I was… I had enemies. They called me a monster. A war criminal. A sinner who deserved to be eternally punished in Hell. But if I had 'repented', bowed down and worshiped Being X, he would have been merciful and allowed me to go to Heaven. Again and again, throughout hundreds of lives, he gave me innumerable chances to 'redeem myself'. Or so he told me, before he banished me to this place. Maybe he was trying to justify his self-righteous bluster by portraying himself as more magnanimous and merciful than he really was. Maybe I would always have ended up in Hell. Maybe the crimes I'm supposed to have committed were such that I could never hope to avoid eternal damnation. But that doesn't matter. Being X doesn't care about any of that. I'm not being punished for what I've done but for what I won't do. I'm being punished for my defiance, for my refusal to bow down and worship him as he desires, despite his many attempts to hammer me into submission."
She took a deep, regretful breath, shook her head and continued her monologue: "Why did he single me out for special treatment? There are plenty of atheists and people who only pay lip service to the religion they claim to follow, so why did he treat me differently from anyone else? Why am I here and they are not? Perhaps he visits every atheist after death and demands that they abase themselves before him. Perhaps he forces them to live again and again until at last they break down and worship him. Perhaps they have the good sense to submit before they really annoy him, whereas I… I have always been stubborn. In spite of everything – all the wisdom and experience I have gained, the loved ones that have been taken away from me, the fact that I've lived for so long I can't remember my original name – I haven't fundamentally changed. I'm still the same person I always was. And I will defy him until the end."
"What an inspirational story," said Dream, sardonically clapping his hands together. "I can see why Lucifer chose you to be the new ruler of Hell."
Tanya gave Nada an affectionate squeeze before letting go of her and standing up again. Despite the fact that she was barely more than five feet tall, she appeared to be trying to loom over Dream and glower down at him. "So, as I'm sure you understand, I greatly sympathize with Nada. Her sad story is very similar to mine. Except… I count myself fortunate that Being X only wants me to worship him. He didn't decide to punish me for all eternity because I refused to have sex with him. Not like you did to Nada."
"I beg your pardon?!" cried Dream, unable to suppress his outrage.
"You heard me," said Tanya, folding her arms. "You're an abuser. Just like Being X."
Dream took several moments to calm himself. He had to keep reminding himself that he'd come to Hell for a specific purpose, which wasn't to waste time arguing with its temporary ruler.
"Enough of this," he croaked. "I came to Hell to retrieve my helmet. One of your demons has it."
Tanya nodded. She waved to the window. Suddenly the office cubicles could barely be seen beneath a surging tide of slobbering, gibbering, capering demons of all different shapes and sizes. More than a million in all. "Which one?" she asked.
Some of the demons had passed through the dreamworld in the past. Others Dream recognized from nightmares. But there were so many.
He knew that one of them had his helm, a mask of pure dream, crafted from the bones of a dead god. It was part of him. He would recognize it anywhere.
"That one," he said, pointing.
"Choronzon. One of Beelzebub's managerial staff," said Tanya with a nod. She raised her voice to a shout, which could be heard even over the multitude of gurgles, groans and cackles emitted by the many demons she'd summoned to this meeting. "Well, Choronzon, does Dream speak truly? Do you have his helm of office?"
"Ssss. What if I have?" asked Choronzon, a demon with bright pink skin and two fanged mouths.
"Where did you get it from?" Tanya wanted to know. She waved a hand and the pink-skinned demon was summoned into her office, to stand next to her, where he stared insolently at Dream from just a few feet away.
"Ssss. I traded it from a mortal. Gave her an amulet to protect her from a vengeful lover. A paltry thing, but it was a fair trade. I have broken none of the laws of Hell. If you want your precious back you must fight me for it. Ssss."
"Or trade for it again, perhaps?" Tanya suggested. "The land of dreams contains many treasures, some of which I'm certain would be more valuable to you than a helmet you cannot use, Choronzon. Why wager when you can get what you want through honest dealing?"
Dream ignored her attempt to propose a fair and reasonable solution to the impasse that had arisen. He was angry and frustrated and Choronzon was offering him an acceptable target for his ire.
"Very well. Yes, I challenge you, Choronzon," he said.
"Ssss. As the challenged, I have the right to choose a champion to represent me," said Choronzon. "I choose Lady Tanya Degurechaff, the Devil of the Rhine."
"You overstep yourself," said Tanya, a note of irritation in her voice. "I could refuse. Why shouldn't I punish you for your temerity?"
"Ssss. You're the one who keeps talking about employee ssatisfaction. I won't be ssatisfied unless you represent me as my champion."
"All right." Tanya sighed. "But I must warn you that if I am to be your champion you must accept the possibility that I could lose."
"And then you won't be ruler of Hell for very long." Choronzon smirked at her.
"I'll take my chances."
"What game shall we play?" asked Dream.
"The oldest game," said Choronzon. "What else?"
"I hate that game," Tanya muttered. "It always devolves into childish bickering as to whether or not Batman could beat Superman if he was given enough prep time. Or the equivalent of 'infinity plus one', 'infinity plus two', 'infinity times infinity' and so on."
"Ssso… you know the rules, Dreamlord? If you win, I will return your helmet. If you lose, you will sserve as a plaything of Hell, for eternity. Our ssslave."
"You want to enslave an eternal being necessary for the smooth functioning of the entire universe?" Tanya raised a quizzical eyebrow. "I can see no way that could possibly go wrong."
"I'm pleased you approve," said Choronzon.
"Yes, I understand the rules," said Dream. "Let's play."
"Ssss. You take the first move, milady."
Whenever the oldest game was played, it almost always involved some kind of visual spectacle to entertain the audience and make it more interesting for the players. And so, in the next moment, it was as if Hell was replaced by a wild and untamed landscape of icy plains, forests and hills. Of course, it was an illusion, superimposed over the vast horde of demons and the seemingly endless grid pattern of office cubicles and columns. Even if he couldn't see them, Dream could hear the excited muttering and jabbering of demons who were eagerly awaiting the upcoming confrontation.
"I am a dire wolf," said Tanya in a bored monotone. "A lethal predator, stalking prey across the tundra."
Sure enough, a large prehistoric canine appeared in the middle of the frozen wasteland. It was surreptitiously edging closer to a herd of elk that didn't seem to have noticed it yet. In a moment or two, it would burst into action with sudden speed and shocking violence.
A classic opening move. Dream nodded his head in acknowledgement. "I am a hunter," he said. "Horse-mounted, wolf-stabbing."
Out of the shadows came a sinewy warrior riding a shaggy horse. He charged at the dire wolf and impaled it on his spear.
"I am a hole in the ground," said Tanya. "Tiny and barely noticeable, but enough to trip a careless horse and kill its rider."
As the warrior rode away from his successful hunt with the freshly skinned dire wolf's pelt, his horse tumbled and fell, hurling him to the ground. He landed badly, with his neck twisted at an odd angle.
Dream raised an eyebrow: an expression of mild surprise. He hadn't expected Tanya to change the tone of the game so quickly, but perhaps he should have.
"I am a flood," he replied. "Hole-filling, soil-softening."
The frozen landscape was drowned beneath torrential rains, which seemed to wash everything away. Before long, the hills were islands in a sea of mucky water.
"I am a ship sailing above the water," said Tanya.
"I am fire. Wood-burning, ship-destroying," Dream replied.
Almost as soon as it appeared, the ship was engulfed in flames and began to sink. Tanya's face loomed in the sky above it. She gave Dream an unimpressed look.
In a flat, droning voice, she said, "I am the water that quenches the fire."
Realizing that this was a cycle that could go around forever if it was allowed to, Dream decided that what was needed was a change of scale: "I am a world, space-floating, life-nurturing."
The flooded landscape was replaced with the void of outer space. He and Tanya were floating high above a world that looked very much like Earth. Some of the demons cooed at the sight. They sounded as if they were very far away.
"I am a supernova that destroys everything for millions of miles around it, including planets."
There was a massive explosion, eerily soundless, that filled his field of vision in every direction, too bright to look upon.
"I am the universe," said Dream. "All things encompassing, all life embracing."
Compared to the vastness of the entire universe, a single supernova was almost too small to see, barely more than a pinprick.
And then, a few seconds later, it was all consumed by nothingness as Tanya said, "I am anti-life. The end of everything, including the universe itself. One day, everything must end. Even gods. Even me."
"Ssss. And what will you be then, Dreamlord?" asked Choronzon, out of nowhere, sounding gleeful.
"I am hope," said Dream. A faint light shone through the darkness.
Tanya laughed bitterly. "You think hope will survive the end of the universe? Well, let's assume you're right…" Her expression hardened. "Have you forgotten where you are? This is Hell. Abandon hope all ye who enter here."
Once again, he was standing in Tanya's office, looking out over a massed crowd of demons, only now the cubicles had been replaced with traditional instruments of torture, there were lakes of hellfire and brimstone in the distance, and he could hear the screams of the damned. A glimpse of what Hell had once been: not what it was now, not since Tanya's renovations.
He shook his head. "Hell cannot defeat hope. What power would this place have if those imprisoned here could not dream of heaven?"
"Is that what you think? Personally, I've always believed it's 'better to reign'."
"Nevertheless, it's your move," said Dream.
"You won't accept 'Hell' as a counter to 'hope'? All right, I won't argue." Tanya paused, looking contemplative. "In that case, I am eternity, the relentless march of time. Not even hope can last forever."
Dream was about to argue that hope could survive anything, but he didn't need to: he'd already thought of the perfect counter to Tanya's latest move.
"I am rebirth," he said. "A chance to forget the past and wipe the slate clean."
Was that a gleam of satisfaction he saw in Tanya's eyes? He couldn't be sure. Whatever it was, it was gone a moment later.
"Now, what could beat rebirth?" she mused.
"Ssss. An abortion," said Choronzon.
"That wouldn't prevent them being reborn again somewhere else," said Tanya. "It might prevent one rebirth, but it wouldn't defeat the entire concept of rebirth."
"Ssss. A whole series of abortions! The metaphysical concept of abortion!"
"Is there such a thing?" Tanya looked mildly curious. "No, I think we must concede defeat."
"You're giving up? Ssso easily?"
"I know when I've been beaten."
Choronzon sniggered at that. "No you don't. You never do. That's exactly your problem. If you knew when to quit, you'd never have ended up here."
"The Dreamlord has won the game," Tanya insisted. "You lost, so you must give him the helmet."
"Ssso much for the Devil of the Rhine!" Choronzon jeered at her. "Uselessss..."
There was a sudden eruption of force. Dream took a step back, assuming that he was under attack. But then he saw Choronzon had been blasted off his feet, smashed into the wall, and now lay in a crumpled heap. Tanya walked over to him and plucked the Helmet of Dreams from his nerveless fingers.
"I do not tolerate insubordination," she said, turning to glare at the crowd outside her window. Then, approaching Dream, she handed the helmet to him and said, "This rightfully belongs to you. Congratulations on your victory."
"I thank you, Queen of Hell. You are honorable," he said.
"Treachery breeds treachery, which is probably why this place was in such a mess before Lucifer elevated me to my current role," she murmured. "Now, there is one last thing I want to say to you before you leave…"
She hesitated, glanced at where Nada had taken cover under her desk, and took a deep breath. Then, tentatively, she said, "They call you the 'Prince of Stories' and I've heard that you were personally acquainted with William Shakespeare, the Bard of Avon. I'm sure you must have heard that in one of his plays, he wrote… 'The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed; it blesseth him that gives and him that takes–'"
"It is an attribute to God himself; and earthly power doth then show likest God's when mercy seasons justice," said Dream, causing Tanya to flinch. "Yes, I know it. Portia. The Merchant of Venice, Act IV, Scene I. As I recall, she then showed no mercy to Shylock when he refused to do as she asked. So, with that in mind, I wonder… are you threatening me? Will you refuse to let me leave? Will I be attacked by the legions of Hell unless I do what you want?"
Tanya quickly shook her head. "No. You are free to go. I suspect threats would only make you less likely to agree to anything I suggest. However, I still think you should forgive Nada, set her free and allow her to be reborn. I think you would feel better for it."
"I will… I will consider it," he said. More than anything, he wanted to leave this dismal place and for Tanya to stop nagging him.
"While I am the ruler of Hell, Nada will not be punished. I will take care of her."
"You may be overthrown before long," he said, cocking his head to one side and listening to the crowds of demons who were howling and roaring their dissatisfaction.
"True. The next time you visit, Hell may be a warzone," she said, sounding unconcerned by the prospect. "Nevertheless, I will protect Nada for as long as I can."
Dream gave a stiff nod. Then, it occurred to him to ask, "Why have you transformed Hell into this… bureaucratic nightmare?"
A sad smile spread over Tanya's lips. "Nostalgia, I suppose."
Because he didn't know how to reply to that, Dream didn't try. Instead, he said, "Well, I must be going. "Goodbye."
"Until we meet again," said Tanya. "Farewell."
Dream departed. He flew away, over the millions of office cubicles and the sinners who were trapped inside, over the hordes of demons who were plotting rebellion, past the gates of Hell and into the Dreamlands. But even there, he thought he could hear Tanya's voice, saying to Nada, "It won't be forever. Someday, this will all end. And then… then, we'll be free."