The Demon and the City

The ragged wounds began to knit together, forming seams in the skin that soon faded until there was no longer a trace of injury. Moments later, the light seeped away, seeming to sink into the earth itself, and Mhara sat up.
    "What happened?"
    "Something healed you. A ball, from the lion's mouth."
    "It's an Imperial statue," Mhara whispered. "It must have recognized me."
    "Mhara, we have to find a way out of here. Deveth's spirit is roaming around and it obviously doesn't wish you well. We have to get back to Earth, or—"
    "Not Earth, Robin. I have to return to Heaven. I told you. Someone must tell them what's happening."
    "But you said that they won't let you back into Heaven . . . Mhara, if you explained to them—no one could blame you for what you did."
    "You think so? Heaven is merciful to human souls, but very hard on its own. We are supposed to know better. And there was—an earlier transgression on my part."
    "What do you mean?"
    "Tserai was only able to capture me because I was already on Earth, Robin. She did not summon me from Heaven. I should not have come here, I was denied permission, but I wanted—" Mhara stopped.
    "Wanted what?"
    "Wanted to see for myself. I don't think you understand how remote Heaven has become over the last century. As fewer and fewer people believe in it, so it withdraws itself. Celestials are starting to ask themselves why they bother with the affairs of the Human Realms, when they get so little thanks for it. If it wasn't for a bureaucracy that was set up aeons ago, to bring souls to Heaven and reward them for their efforts, then I am not even sure whether the Celestials would bother."
    "But what would happen to all the souls?"
    "They'd go to the only place that would have them. Hell is always hungry, Robin."
    "But that isn't fair," Robin said, aware that she was sounding like a child.
    "Heaven thinks that it is taking too long for your kind to learn anything. It thinks that it has given you thousands of years' worth of grace, and that still does not seem to be enough."
    "But the woes of the world, the pestilences and the wars and so forth, are so often engineered by Hell."
    "The Celestials say that you have a choice, and they're right, aren't they? You do."
    And to that, Robin could only be silent.
    "If we are to enter Heaven," Mhara said, and she glanced up sharply at his use of the plural, "then we will have to do so by stealth alone."

Twenty-Eight
    The temple of Celestial Goddess Kuan Yin held unfortunate memories for Zhu Irzh. He was not fond of meeting the Celestial beings: partly because they were always so smug, and partly because they produced an unpleasant reaction in him—a kind of burning, itching sensation, combined with dizziness. Chen had explained once that it was rather similar to negative and positive particles, but Zhu Irzh had so little interest in science that he tuned out the rest of the conversation and had only started paying attention again when Chen had suggested getting something to eat. And this particular goddess kept treating him not as a powerful and terrifying demon from Hell, but more like a small child in need of a smack. It was with reluctance, therefore, that the demon accompanied Chen through the portals of the goddess' temple and into the courtyard within.
    Even granted that it was midafternoon, the courtyard was quiet. Someone had obviously been here recently because a tall, red stick of incense was smoldering in its holder, and Zhu Irzh could detect a faint cold trace of unhappiness on the air, like snowmelt on the tongue. Prayers for the sick, perhaps. To any normal demon, such emotional residue would have been as sweet as candy, but Zhu Irzh found his spirits sinking. He told himself to get a grip. It was definitely time for a therapist when he finally got back home.
    "Even though she's not my patron anymore," Chen was saying, "I should think she'd listen."
    "Of course," Zhu Irzh agreed. "She'll want to know what's going on."
    Chen gave him a narrow look. "And you. Where do you stand on this?"
    "Right, well. I think Heaven's boring. A civil war and an invasion by Hell would certainly liven things up a bit, but on the other hand, we'd have to do something with the place when we took it over and it's so bland . We'd have to redecorate. And there's another thing, Chen. Without Heaven, we could do what we want, and I think that might get rather dull as well."
    "I wouldn't have expected you capable of such theological profundity," Chen