Page 88 - Folio Only
P. 88
Lydia made some sort of gesture, and a circlet of eight young angels of
varying ages swooped out of the clouds. “His brother and seven sisters,” she
explained. Then to them, “Take your brother to his room. It's time for his
nap.”
They flew away with Benito, who did not go quietly, until there was a
distant clap of thunder, when his wailing stopped instantly.
Fuocorogo blinked a few times. “That thunder. His father?”
Lydia nodded. “I tell Him just a stern glower would be sufficient to
discipline his children, but, no, He will have His thunder. Ah, listen, they've
got him to bed now....”
Fuocorogo could hear the sound of music. Serene, achingly beautiful.
Rhythmless but flowing, like the rippling of a river or the blowing of the wind.
It brought tears to Fuocorogo's eyes.
“So he's nearby. His father, I mean.”
Lydia said, “Well, He's everywhere. All the time. For eternity. Hard to
get any privacy. But, to answer your question, yes, He's nearby. Listen, how
can I thank you for saving my little Benito? What can I give you?”
“Nothing. I don't need a reward.”
“I have a cornucopia, so, honest, I can get you anything.”
“There might be....No, I can't ask.”
“Please.”
“No. I'll just slither back to Hell.”
“Why did you do it? Rescue my son? You could have let him drown in
the River Styx.”
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