I was sitting on the sofa with my feet up on the coffee table when Gabriel walked through the door.

“Gabriel,” I cried. “I’m so glad to see you again.”

Gabriel smiled, then reached out his hand toward me, as he had on his previous visit.

“Come,” he said briefly.

I felt myself slip from my body as I took his hand and let him lead me from the apartment.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Mount Olympus,” he answered.

“Mt. Olympus is real?”

“I am going to show you the Hell of the gods,” he responded.

I pondered that as we walked along the familiar corridor. Before we reached the end that led down toward Hell, or forward to the Hell of the demigods, we began to ascend.

“I see your wings came in,” he said.

I twisted around in astonishment and flexed them with surprise. Where did they come from? I wondered.

“When?” I said.

“When you learned to accept and learn from what you were shown.”

We flew some distance together in silence. Soon, I could see a mountain and dwellings in the distance. On a rocky hill, two figures stood speaking to a group gathered loosely below and around them.

“Who are they?” I whispered.

“Lucifer and Malaika,” he said, as we drew closer. “They are addressing the gods.”

Lucifer I had heard of, but Malaika was a new name to me.

“Who is Malaika?”

“He is the god of the planet Earth. The other gods are gods of territories. He has a higher rank. He was formerly called Satan. He and Lucifer are working together to lead any god who is willing out of their Hell.”

That stumped me. Satan and Lucifer?

Immediately questions swamped my mind. I didn’t know what to ask first, but I was familiar with Gabriel’s ways. He would show and tell me what he chose.

Finally, I stammered. “Do you mean that Mount Olympus is Hell?”

Gabriel glanced at me.

“No. Hell for gods is not a physical location as it is for humans and demigods. Hell resides within. Listen to Lucifer.”

We landed at the back of the group, who were intently listening to the speakers.

I looked with interest at the smaller of the two beings. Lucifer had the appearance of a powerful, extremely beautiful man. He was slightly larger than any man I had ever seen. He was about the size of Gabriel, I realized. Malaika was larger, very muscular, and looked gruff.

Lucifer was speaking with a charming smile to the assembled gods.

“Guilt is a wasted emotion,” he said. “Learn to overcome it. You think guilt is something you deserve. Certainly, you do. But guilt is strongly tied to self. The more you obsess about yourself, who you are, what you have done, and what you deserve, the less time and energy you have to follow your true purpose. You will never be free of your own misery unless you abandon guilt.”

Malaika was nodding his head, a serious look on his face.

“I know this personally,” Malaika said. “Guilt is one of the hardest things to abandon. It took me a long time to overcome my own guilt – and shame. I felt that I could not possibly stand the gazes of everyone who knows what evil I have done. Lucifer helped me with this issue, for which I am grateful. We cannot hide forever, and healing will not come without leaving self.”

Gabriel tugged at my hand.

“Come,” he said softly, and drew me away from the crowd. I followed passively, though my thoughts were whirling.

We walked down the hill toward a patch of green grass with a tall structure in the center of the area. It looked like a gazebo with flowers woven through the frame.

Soon we encountered a being who had curly brown hair that fell to his shoulders and a matching beard that reached to the middle of his chest. He was carrying a massive cask on his muscular shoulders toward the gathered assembly.

“Well met, Bacchus,” said Gabriel.

“Hello, Gabriel,” said Bacchus. “Who’s this?”

“A sister from Earth,” Gabriel replied.

Bacchus smiled at me as he shifted the cask, then lowered it to the ground.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

I noticed purple grapes and trailing vines engraved on the top of the barrel. I looked at Gabriel uncertainly.

“Not this time,” Gabriel said courteously. “We are here so she can learn about Hell.”

He inclined his head to the burly god. “Would you mind if she takes a look into your center?”

Bacchus leaned back and spread his arms.

I looked at him with confusion, not sure what was expected of me.

Yet, as I gazed at him, my view sharpened. I began to see trees, grass, vines, and then a vineyard within him. A mist rose up and watered the plants. Grapes emerged and ripened. I saw Bacchus walking within the vineyard. He picked grapes and squeezed them with his large hands. I saw him fill casks with luminous, ruby-colored wine. He placed the large casks, like the one in front of him, on long tables in a peaceful sylvan setting. Men, women, angels, and gods came to the tables and drank from goblets filled with the radiant wine. Bacchus moved among them, filling glasses and listening to them with a friendly look on his face.

“Bacchus has been restored,” Gabriel said. “There is no Hell here. Thank you, Friend.”

Gabriel looked at me. “Ask him what you need to ask.”

I hesitated. “Have you done wrong? Do you deserve Hell?”

“Yes,” said Bacchus. A look of sorrow crossed his face. “I abused my powers against the Creator, gods, angels, and humans. I will no longer do so. I still have my moments, but I am doing all I can to rectify past mistakes.”

He picked up the cask again. “Excuse me,” he said, and with one final glance at the two of us, he started toward the crowd, who still stood engrossed in the words of Lucifer and Malaika.

I took a deep breath. The air here was crisp and clear. I shifted my wings, amazed that they had appeared so unexpectedly, and that apparently they were now an invisible part of my anatomy.

“Are these real?” I asked Gabriel, gesturing toward the white wings that rose behind me.

“As real as anything in the spirit,” he replied. “You have grown from our earlier lessons.”

“Where are you going?” he called, as I started to lift off the grass.

“I am just trying them out,” I said.

The wings moved so effortlessly. I wanted to move, to fly, to explore.

“Hold your horses,” Gabriel said. “You haven’t seen the dark side yet.”

Soberly, I settled back onto the grass, looking at him with trepidation.

He took my hand and led me toward the gazebo set inside the park-like arena.

“Eris,” he called.

He gripped my hand tightly. “Don’t say anything,” he warned.

A woman approached, a sullen look on her face.

“So you show up again,” she said disagreeably to Gabriel. “Here to observe, but never to help.”

“Don’t meet her eyes,” Gabriel told me. “Just look.”

I glanced at Eris, looking only at her center, as I had with Bacchus.

I saw angry clouds within, but no clarity. I looked closer. Swiftly wrathful feelings arose in me, seeming to stream from her center directly to me.

I had been rejected through no fault of my own, I felt. Simply because I pointed out obvious truths, the gods refused to acknowledge or care about me. Had I no right to speak? Should they trample on me in their anger, their false piety, their stark lack of love?

I felt entirely miserable and filled with anguish as I remembered lost opportunities to show others that I did not mean to sound as harsh as I had. But who were they to hold me to any standard, when they themselves were no better than I? I felt a burning fire of resentment, then darkness swirled. I gasped and stumbled back.

Eris stalked off. The fury in her face reminded me of the fury I had seen in Clytemnestra the last time I had traveled with Gabriel.

“That is Hell,” said Gabriel. “It is the turbulent anger of lost opportunities, of things one has done wrong, and of obsession with injustices against oneself. It is torment, as Hell brings so freely to all who inhabit its grounds. Where is goodness, understanding, patience, and love?”

I asked, “Why is Hell within gods?”

He reached out and touched my shoulder. “Hell can lie within humans during their lives on Earth. For the gods, it is permanent, until they change, as Lucifer and Malaika are striving to explain to them.”

“Why is it more debilitating for gods than humans?” I asked.

“Because of the power they were given at creation. They were given gifts of emotion, which lead to strong depths of feeling. They are to emote to others that which is true, good, prosperous, and happy, in order to raise people up to live worthwhile lives of purpose and care. Like Bacchus, many have abused their powers. Those who leave the path devoted to themselves alone, and turn toward a good existence, may leave Hell behind. Those who partially leave the dark ways, yet remain obsessed with self, guile, selfishness, cruelty, and other corruption, have Hell within them.”

“Isn’t Eris known for discord?” I asked. “How is it possible for her to bring goodness to others?”

“Discord can be settled,” he said. “Eris has strong opinions, which are often entirely true. On the other hand, she is extremely negative. Beings do not like to be around her because of that negativity, yet she has sharp eyes to see what is actual, what is true. If followed, her unwelcome advice can lead to freedom for the situations and problems she describes. Unfortunately, because her bent is so antagonistic, she tends to get rejected and her words ignored.”

I thought of the cloudiness and the fury within her.

“So, she is angry about it?”

“She has not learned to trust the purpose of her gifts. She has fury without wisdom. Hell roils within and around her.”

“It is a pity,” he said as we continued walking.

We passed the gazebo. I continued to examine the gods and goddesses around us. I saw flashes of light and dark clouds within many, depending on which being held my gaze. Gabriel put his hand on my arm, as though to entreat me to stop staring so avidly. He didn’t say anything, but I felt a quiet rebuke.

“It is not always courteous,” he said softly beside me. “You have seen enough.”

“There he is,” he said.

“Who?”

“Zeus,” he said. “He has a journey ahead, far away. He has ruled too long from the center of himself. Now he will lead others beyond his own mountain.”

Zeus and Gabriel exchanged nods, then Gabriel and I began to ascend.

I turned my eyes from Zeus to the skies. As we traveled, I could see the darkness of space, with the light of stars crossing our path.

“You have seen the Hell of those who rule territories,” Gabriel said. “Now you must understand that corruption does not end with Earth.”

“Stars are angels,” Gabriel said. “A higher order, certainly, but angels.”

“Are gods angels?”

“Yes,” he said. “They are higher in the hierarchy surrounding Earth than the Sons, such as myself. We call them Friends.”

“So…” I began.

I didn’t know what to say, or what to ask, and my words trailed off.

Gabriel looked sympathetic. He spoke slowly, as though giving me time to settle my fluttering heart as I listened.

“Humans tend to think according to their lives and the world around them. Sons think about their lives, the Earth, the lives of humans, and the spiritual realm, of course. Friends think according to their own existence, the countries where they have authority, the humans and angels over which they have a degree of control, and the larger picture of the whole Earth. The stars think according to planets, solar systems, and galaxies. Each thinks according to their gifts and place within the entire kingdom.”

“Do the stars have a Hell?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “The farther you go in space, and it is very far indeed, the more wild the stars become. The ones in this galaxy and the galaxies nearby anticipate having gods, Sons, and humans living within the sphere of their influence, on their planets. They look forward to the activity and friendship with us.”

“As mankind begins to expand across the universe, Sons and Friends will accompany the people as they spread across creation, and the stars know this. They exist and relate outside of time. This is why, among all created beings, they have the most understanding of the future.”

Suddenly, I realized we were no longer flying with our wings, but simply moving more and more swiftly through space, with stars ahead and all around us.

I grasped Gabriel’s arm fiercely. I cried out. “What is happening? Why do you want to show me these things?”

Gabriel’s face was kind as he turned to me. We slowed, then came to a stop, apparently not standing on anything but the space around us. “Because you’re a writer,” he said. “You can share what I show you. These mysteries are being entrusted to you.”

I felt stunned. My mind was whirling. I had no time to process what I had seen with the gods, yet now I was being shown a realm beyond them.

“Do you want to see the stars?” Gabriel asked.

I fought to control my emotions.

“I do. Yes, I do.”

“Some stars are wild,” he said. “They are so far out that they only communicate with one another, and the Creator of all. Some are dedicated to his ways, but do not yet understand humanity, who are the future inhabitants of their planets, of their solar systems. The wild will become tame.”

His face hardened. “Others have tasted the fruit of evil. They rage and destroy, as fiercely as they can.”

“Can I see them?”

There was something like pity in Gabriel’s eyes as he glanced at me again.

“No, little sister,” he said. “I can show you the goodness and the brightness of stars, but I dare not bring you near a star who has collapsed into darkness, with a black hole raging at the center of what he or she became. Such stars consume all that approaches them. The savage ferocity they emit draws all things into themselves. It is an illustration of evil and its ultimate destruction. Evil has abhorrent consequences, from small to great. The greater the being, the worse the ramifications once they absorb evil and its dark ways. The light with which they were created gets swallowed up as well.”

I thought of evil. I didn’t understand. Suddenly I remembered Lucifer and Malaika. Two Satans? Eris. Stars. Black holes.

I felt as though my mind was shutting down. My arms fell limply to my side. Gabriel’s strong arms came around me and we began a dive back toward Mount Olympus, toward the Earth, toward my home.

I didn’t resist. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t feel. Gabriel carried me through my door and lowered me onto the sofa. I gazed at him blankly.

He grabbed my bottle of water from the coffee table.

“Drink this,” he said, thrusting it into my hands. My fingers refused to grasp it.

Gabriel leaned over me and lifted the bottle to my lips. I sipped listlessly.

Gabriel set the bottle down and disappeared into my kitchen. He came back a moment later and fed me a peanut butter and jam sandwich, bite by bite. Slowly, I felt a small amount of strength entering my limbs. I sighed deeply, then sat up.

Gabriel smiled at me. “Rest,” he said. “Drink. In a few days, you will be as good as new.”

He went back into the kitchen and returned with three bottles of water from my fridge and another sandwich. He set them on the table in front of me and turned to walk toward the door.

I reached my hand out to him.

“Gabriel,” I said weakly.

He turned back, and his loving eyes met mine.

“I will be back,” he said. And then he was gone.