Demon Apocalypse

Nothing happens.

Juni lowers her arm and stares at the crack for a long time, then at the blade, then me. She walks across slowly and looks down, confused.

“Juni…” The word comes from deep within the rock. I place the voice straight away — Lord Loss. “Juni…” he calls again, distant, hungry, anxious.

Juni returns to the crack and talks quickly, softly. I can’t hear what she says. But then Lord Loss hisses a name that chills me to the bone. “Billy Spleen…”

Juni bows, sets the knife down, looks at me and grins nastily. “Stay where you are, beastie. I’ll be back for you soon.”

She leaves, not bothering to take the torch.

On the floor the werewolf struggles to tear free of its magical constraints. After a while the beast goes still. Its hands start to glow. The glow spreads and sweeps up its arms, hits its face and chest, then radiates down its body and legs.

The werewolf stands and cocks its head as if listening to someone speak. Then, with a noise that sounds like a growl of agreement, it races for the exit and heads for the surface.

As the beast lurches through the forest, I fill Beranabus and Kernel in on what’s happening. Beranabus is unsure what to make of Juni’s behaviour. “She seems to have been trying to summon Lord Loss. For some reason the spell didn’t work. But I don’t see what difference the other boy’s blood would make.”

“I don’t think she wanted Bill-E for the spell,” I murmur. “And I don’t think it failed. Lord Loss stopped her. He wanted Bill-E to be there when he crossed, so he could kill us both.”

“Perhaps,” Beranabus says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

The chase concludes. The beast arrives at Bill-E’s house. The back door is open. The wolf bolts inside and finds Juni picking up the unconscious Bill-E Spleen. Ma and Pa Spleen are both dead. The werewolf howls at Juni. She drops Bill-E as the beast leaps. They fight, my transformed self ripping at the albino with its teeth and claws, Juni fighting back physically, no time for spells. She screams my name and the beast roars. Juni screams my name again and again, each time adding more distress to the cry.

Finally, after a minute of Juni screaming, the werewolf releases her. She staggers back, bloody and stunned. The beast growls angrily, standing firmly between Juni and Bill-E, protecting the otherwise defenceless boy. Then the view goes blurry. I sense the creature changing. Juni sighs with relief, then spreads her hands and talks quickly, faking concern. “Grubbs?” she gasps. “Is that you?”

I open my eyes and the screen disappears inside my head. I stare at Beranabus, open mouthed. “I didn’t kill them,” I whisper. “I tried to save them. I protected Bill-E. I didn’t kill them!” The last sentence comes out as a sob. I bend over and weep with relief, all else forgotten, eternally grateful to be innocent Grubbs Grady again — not the loathsome killer that I mistakenly believed I was.

THE VETERAN

→ My first impulse, when I stop crying, is to rush back to Carcery Vale and warn Dervish and Bill-E of the danger they’re in.

“We already had this conversation,” Beranabus sighs.

“I don’t care,” I snap. “Juni didn’t just target me — she went after Bill-E too. She might not return to the Vale straightaway, but she can easily phone Dervish and ask about me. If she discovers he doesn’t know where I am or what really happened, she can return and…” I shake my head viciously, trying not to think of all the terrible things she could do. “We have to go back and warn them.”

“No,” Beranabus says softly. “Their welfare isn’t my concern.”

“How can you say that?” I shriek. “Dervish is your friend.”

“No — if anything, he’s my employee.”

“What do you…?” I stop, finally realising where I had heard Beranabus’s name before. Dervish mentioned it when he was explaining about his work. I should have put two and two together when he was talking about the warning spells at the cave, but my head’s still in a whirl. “You’re the boss of the Disciples,” I mutter.

“I wouldn’t describe myself that way,” Beranabus sniffs. “I don’t have much to do with them. I use the Disciples where appropriate, but I fight most of my battles in the Demonata’s universe, alone.”

“Not quite alone,” Kernel huffs.

Beranabus grunts offhandedly at Kernel, then addresses me again. “I didn’t form the Disciples. They came to me looking for leadership and training. I occasionally demand their help, but I’ve no vested interest in the group.”

“But Dervish is one of your people,” I argue. “He told me you sent him to Carcery Vale to protect the cave. You’re responsible for him.”

“No!” Beranabus barks. He brushes his long hair back from his face, glowering at me. “I sent Dervish to Carcery Vale, as I sent others before him, to watch for demons and their human servants, to report to me if any came sniffing in search of the cave. Everything else in his life was secondary to that task. He should have respected my instructions, kept a low profile, not got entangled with a demon master like Lord Loss. He brought this trouble on himself. I don’t have time to get involved in personal conflicts. Lord Loss has nothing to do with the cave, so I don’t care what he does to Dervish.”

“You’re a monster,” I sneer. “You’re no better than the Demonata.”

“Perhaps not,” Beranabus concedes. “But the Disciples understand that there are forces at work in the universe far more important than anything in their own lives. They accept the need to put human concerns behind them and focus on the nobler cause to which they’ve been called.”

“I don’t do noble causes,” I retort. “I care about Dervish and Bill-E. That’s all. They’re more important to me than anything else, even the safety of the bloody world.”

“He’s arrogant and stupid,” Kernel says, staring at me coldly. “He can’t see the bigger picture. You made a mistake bringing him here. Send him back. Let him perish at the hands of Lord Loss.”

“That isn’t your decision to make,” Beranabus says, eyes flashing. “Don’t forget your place. You’re here to serve.”

“Well, it’s true,” Kernel pouts.

Beranabus takes a steadying breath, then faces me again. “What I’m trying to explain,” he says, only barely restraining his anger, “is that Dervish wouldn’t want us to rush back. He understands the importance of my work and knows I don’t get involved in minor skirmishes — which is all this is. He doesn’t expect me to ride to his rescue. This quarrel with Lord Loss and Juni Swan is of his own making and he must deal with them himself.

“Having said that,” Beranabus continues, raising his voice to stop me interrupting, “I will get word to him, as I promised. I can’t get in touch with him now – there are no easy means of making contact with the outside world from here – but as soon as I can, I’ll warn him of Juni’s treachery and the threat he faces. That’s the best I can offer. And it’s all Dervish would expect.”

“Fine,” I grunt, getting to my feet. “But I’m not one of your Disciples, so I don’t have to obey your rules. I’ll go and warn him right now if you’ll just point me in the right direction…” I look at him challengingly, expecting an argument.

Beranabus smiles flatly. “Once you leave the cave, the fastest route is east. It’s a long, hard walk. The sun is merciless, waterholes are few and far between, and there’s little food to be found. An experienced trekker or a magician might make it out alive. But you’re not a worldly traveller and you don’t know how to make the most of your magical potential. You’ll be dead within a week. But if you want to make the attempt regardless, go ahead. I won’t detain you.”

“Right,” I nod sharply. “I will.”

I start towards the rope ladder, but Kernel stops me. “Grubitsch… Grubbs. He’s telling the truth. You can’t make it. You’ll die if you try.”

“I’d rather die trying than live and let Dervish and Bill-E be butchered.”

“It would be pointless,” Kernel argues. “Even if you got out alive, it would take weeks to reach civilisation. Dervish will find out quicker through us. Disciples visit here regularly. One might come tomorrow or the next day. You won’t achieve anything by sacrificing yourself. Do you want us to tell your uncle you wasted your life on a pointless mission? How do you think that would make him feel?”

I stare at Kernel coldly, then turn slowly to Beranabus. “You swear you’ll let him know as soon as you can?”

The magician nods. “As Kernel said, we receive several visitors a year. When the next Disciple comes, I’ll give him or her a message to pass on to Dervish.”

“What if it’s months before anyone visits?”

Beranabus doesn’t reply.

I think it over. Weigh up the pros and cons. Try to decide what Dervish would tell me to do. I finally figure it makes no sense to leave.

“OK,” I sigh, taking my place by the fire. “I don’t like it, and I’ll hold you to account if anything happens to Dervish or Bill-E. But I’m going to trust you. I don’t know for sure that I should, but to hell with it. Now I assume you brought me here for a purpose. What is it?”

Beranabus laughs. “Damn it all, I like you! You’re blunt and to the point. I’m sure you’ll cause me all sorts of aggravation, but I’m looking forward to having you around.”

“Never mind the compliments,” I growl. “Just tell me why I’m here.”

“Very well. As I explained, I don’t have much to do with the Disciples. They deal with largely unimportant matters. They stop some demons from crossing and limit the damage caused by those who get through. That doesn’t mean much in the universal scheme of things. Hundreds of casualties… a few thousand… even a few million… what of them?”