“But … how would anyone have gotten into the kennel, who would have known who I …” I looked up at Her, and She gave me an encouraging smile. A condescending smile, like I was a very slow student who had just worked out how to recite the alphabet.

“You. You … planned for them to become my companions? Why? How … how did you even get into Hell in the first place?” I shook my head. “No, let’s go back even further than that. If I’m to believe you, I’m the son of … of Satan, and of God? What did you do, to get Father to … he hates you! Loathes you in fact!”

Had Her smile slipped slightly?

“Your father and I have a very long history. We … we used to be, well, not friends, but … allies, I suppose.” She picked up a glittery gold pen from Her desk, twirling it between Her fingers.

“You … allied with my father?” I snorted. “This tale gets more and more preposterous!”

She shrugged, the smile disappearing entirely. She glanced out her enormous window, Her eyes reflecting the sunlight. “We worked together, to keep a balance. The irredeemable went straight to him, the truly good came to me. The … difficult cases, they went to a … waiting room, I suppose you could call it. The humans call it Purgatory. They waited while we debated and negotiated over them. It was fair, that way.”

“And then you started manipulating the system,” I growled, stepping towards the desk. “Using human religious beliefs about repenting to allow the worst sorts to bypass Hell entirely. And our people slowly began to starve, for lack of sustenance.”

She shook Her head, Her lips curling downwards. “I kept my side of the bargain until I realised that your father was sneaking cookies from the jar, so to speak. For centuries he roamed the human realm, posing as one of them. Exacting his little bargains with desperate folks, who otherwise had led good, kind lives. He has prayed on the souls owed to Heaven for far longer than I have retaliated.”

“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “He said … he told me that he reaped souls in an attempt to slow the soul famine!”

“He lied,” She said simply.

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Could it be that Father had caused all of Hell’s woes through his own greed? Knowing what I did of my father, it wasn’t entirely inconceivable. But could I trust anything She said?