"God?" I stammered. "God wants to talk to me?"
"Heck," Salabas smirked, "I reckon there's lots of people he wants to talk to, but right now, you're topping the list."
I felt my stomach quivering with nerves. Ruling over Hell was a pretty daunting thing to face, but I'd kind of gotten used to it. Now I was expected to have a little chat with the guy who rules over everything? The Creator? The Man Behind the Curtain? God?
"Do I need to, like, change my clothes or something?" I stammered. I could probably find a tux in that massive closet in my devil's bedroom. I didn't want to show up to a meet and greet with the most important being in the universe in a bloodstained t-shirt.
"Naw, man, you ain't gotta change nothing," Salabas assured me. "God won't sweat the particulars of your wardrobe, he's a real down-to-earth kind of guy."
An unexpected silence elbowed its way into the conversation. I glanced around awkwardly. "Oh, I get it," I said. "It's like a pun or something, right?"
"God?" I said. "Down-to-earth? Cuz he…you know…?"
"Oh," Talamur said helpfully, appearing confused. "No, I think I get it."
"I don't think he was joking," Sylnie whispered to me. Jaelin rolled her eyes.
"I sure as heckfire was not," Salabas confirmed. "But if you're ready, sir, it is probably for the best if we don't keep our Lord Almighty waiting." He offered me his elbow like he was about to escort me onto the ballroom floor. I reached out for it and gripped him by the forearm. "You'll want to hold on tighter than that," he told me with a smile. "The way I fly, you'll have the wind whippin' at ya harder than a swarm of angry yellow jackets."
I looped my arm tighter into his elbow and said meekly, "Did you say fly?" And then we were off like some kind of psychotic derailed bullet train.