by Sally Green
Tash drew her knife as a demon shoved her into the tunnel wall. Her nose mashed into the stone, her forehead banged and scraped, and then she was being dragged by her hair. Tash flailed wildly with her knife at the demon but couldn’t reach. Her scalp was going to be pulled off, so she sliced through her dreadlocks and fell to the ground where she stayed still, sprawled out but playing dead as the demons ran on, one treading hard on her back, but they were after the soldiers and weren’t interested in her. After a few moments she dared to look. The demons were chasing the soldiers away, but behind her Geratan was still fighting the first demon. It was huge, bigger than Gravell, and it had Geratan against the tunnel wall, its hands on his throat.
Tash ran at them, leaped, and let out a horrible clanging scream as she stabbed her knife in the demon’s neck. The demon lashed at her, knocking Tash onto her back. Geratan was staggering away. The demon’s red eyes were staring at Tash, its hand clutching at its neck where she’d stabbed it. Then it dropped to its knees over her. She tried to scrabble away, but the demon’s arms were caging her. And then the demon collapsed.
The demon was heavy. And still. It wasn’t playing dead.
Tash tried to move by pushing against the demon, and then she tried to lift it. But it was like trying to lift a horse. Then the demon raised its head, its red eyes looking into hers. It wasn’t quite dead yet.
Tash tried to push it away. Get off me. Let me out.
But the demon collapsed onto her.
It was totally still now.
Tash tried to squirm out from underneath it but couldn’t move at all. She tried again. Tried to see Geratan. Tried to shuffle a bit but could hardly breathe with the weight of the demon on her. She put both hands on its shoulders and pushed. The demon’s head was just above hers.
And at that moment smoke began to escape from the demon’s mouth.
And that’s when the world changed. The world became full of red smoke. The demon was talking to her—not in words, not in sounds, but in visions. These were demon visions and demon feelings.
Tash was lifted up and swirled around in the demon smoke that was coming out of the dead demon’s mouth. The smoke, its essence, was leaving its body and heading back down the tunnel, deeper into the demon world, but Tash breathed the smoke in. And her mind floated and tumbled along the long red tunnels, keeping low to the ground, curving left and then right, hugging the floor and then the walls, and then suddenly she was out in the middle of a huge space, a huge cavern, with red stone terraces and numerous bridges and columns, all beautifully curved and arched. Some even looked to be carved into demon shapes, their faces and hands seeming to reach out to her. On the terraces were many demons, all looking at Tash, and she was floating past them and swirling round and round, over and under bridges, round the columns, and gradually down into a deep well of dark purple smoke in the floor of the cavern. And she knew more than anything, she felt more than anything, the need to get back to it—that was where she belonged.
Now it was time to go back to the smoke, to the center of things.
And Tash sank into the deep well of smoke, down and down, until everything was the darkest purple.
AMBROSE
DEMON TUNNELS
AMBROSE LEFT Catherine with General Davyon and pushed to the back of the group, hearing each person’s fears as he went but passing on his own thoughts as loud as he could. Get everyone up the slope. And keep going.
Rafyon was holding off five demons at the rear. Ambrose joined him, and together they blocked the tunnel. The demons were standing over the bodies of two soldiers, one of whom had no head, while the other’s was at an impossible angle. The demons’ eyes were almost glowing in the red light, and the demons were touching each other—communicating, Ambrose realized.
Ambrose touched Rafyon. They’re planning their move.
Yes, and I don’t think it’ll be to retreat.
We have a chance. At least they don’t have swords.
But that didn’t deter the demons, and with a howl two demons ran forward as if they had no care for their lives or didn’t know what a sword was. Rafyon sliced down the neck and chest of the first, killing it instantly, but the other demon dived low, taking Rafyon’s legs out. Ambrose’s sword was almost useless at close quarters, but he hit the demon’s head with the hilt, while drawing his dagger with his left hand and stabbing the demon in the back. Rafyon was scrabbling up, slashing his sword back and forth to cover himself from a third demon’s attack. The wounded demon lay on the ground and howled. The attack stopped.
Ambrose stood close to Rafyon, their bare arms touching. They’re having second thoughts maybe?
Maybe.
Though, as the one from the back now came forward, Ambrose wasn’t sure what thoughts demons could have. It was holding the head of a dead soldier, blood dripping from sinew. The demons gathered round the dead demon, but they advanced no farther.
And then a fine line of red smoke began to rise from the dead demon’s mouth, moving up slowly and thickening. The demons watched it and held their hands out to the smoke to feel it through their fingers.
They seem more interested in the smoke than us. At least for the moment. Let’s get out of here.
Rafyon and Ambrose moved back up the tunnel, and still the demons didn’t follow. They made it to the bottom of the slope, where they had to turn and scramble up. Here the group was waiting. General Davyon had organized the group and now touched Ambrose and Rafyon. Two soldiers dead. All in this group are uninjured. But we’re missing Geratan and Tash.
They were at the back, Rafyon replied. If they’re alive, they’ll never get past those demons.
Do we go back for them? Ambrose asked.
Rafyon pulled his hands through his hair and shook his head. There are four demons there, but we don’t know if more are on the way. I think we got lucky in the last attack, they didn’t know what to expect, but they’ll be better prepared next time. And we have to face it—Geratan and Tash are probably dead anyway. If they are alive, they’ll have to look for a different way out, up that other tunnel at the fork we passed. But we can’t risk more lives by going back to look for them.
Davyon nodded. I’d love to go back but I think more of us will get killed to no avail. My responsibility is to ensure the princess gets out alive. The demons know we’re here now, and the sooner we get out, the better.
Agreed then. We must push on fast. Rafyon, you bring up the rear. Keep your eyes out. We go fast. We’re going to get out of this damned tunnel.
Davyon and Ambrose went to the front, touching those they passed. Giving instructions. Ambrose held Catherine’s arm for a few moments.
What’s happening?
Four demons are behind us. We go fast now. Fast and out of here.
Where’s Tash?
Lost. I’m sorry. But we can’t think of her now. We must push on.
But she’s a child.
Mourn her if we survive. Concentrate on your own escape for now.
Davyon was a stride ahead of Ambrose and Catherine. The tunnel rose again and already Ambrose could sense a difference. The air was lighter, and the tunnel began to open out ahead. And Ambrose felt relief to see sky—a hazy red version of it, but it was sky; it was the human world. He slowed, scanning the red stone of the demon’s lair. The slope leading up to the human world was steep, wide, and smooth. Everything was still and quiet here. He touched Davyon’s arm. Can you see the demon?
Not yet.
The demon had to have heard them coming. Had it gone out into the human world?
And then at the far side of the lair was a small movement, two purple eyes staring out. The demon was crouched on its haunches.
Davyon’s thoughts filled Ambrose’s head. Rafyon and I will keep the demon back. You get the others out. Actually, how do you get out of here?
Tash told me that you just burst through—she�
��s never had a problem with getting out.
Let’s hope not, because if we kill the demon the tunnel will close.
I’ve no intention of hanging around a moment more than necessary.
Davyon went to Rafyon and they moved forward to the demon.
Ambrose took the princess’s hand. Don’t look at the demon. Just look ahead and keep going. And run when I say.
The princess grabbed Tanya’s hand.
Run hard. Stay with me. And Ambrose ran up the slope, pulling Catherine with him as she was pulling Tanya. His feet slipped but he kept going.
Nearly there. Just keep—
The cold air was like a slap.
The light was blinding.
The human world was cold and harsh and bright. Ambrose couldn’t see. He pushed Catherine and Tanya to the ground, crouching over them, thinking, Stay down. Stay down, but when Tanya began to get up he remembered he had to speak now. “Stay down. I need to make sure it’s safe.”
Ambrose scanned around, blinking. He was on the plateau. Standing on bare earth, tall conifers all around him, blue sky above. All was quiet and still. There were no demons, no Brigantines.
“Can I move yet?” Tanya asked.
“A moment more.”
A bird sang.
Ambrose looked back, expecting to see into the demon world, but of course he could only see a wide gentle hollow with some mud in the bottom of it. It had a red tinge—the demon was still in there with the others.
But already they were appearing. A young soldier was crawling out near Catherine. Another soldier stumbled up, fell to his knees, rolled on to his back, and called out, “We can speak at last!”
More joined them. One soldier staggered up, his sword out toward the hollow. “The demon has Rafyon, Davyon, and Tarell trapped in there.”
Ambrose bent to Catherine and said, “I have to go back. The soldiers here will watch you, but I think the danger is down there.”
Catherine hesitated but then nodded and briefly touched his bare arm. “Take care. Please.” He took her hand and swiftly kissed it. He quickly gave instructions for the men to protect the princess, but he was sure the danger was from behind, the demon in the hollow and maybe more demons coming after them. He knelt on the edge of the hollow, took a calming breath, and pushed his head forward low to the ground, his nose and chin brushing the cold, damp earth and then making contact with hot, dry stone.
At the bottom of the slope Rafyon was standing protectively over a soldier, Tarell, who was on his knees, his face covered in blood. Davyon was near the top, across from Ambrose, and crouched halfway up the slope was the demon. It wasn’t so big, but it was muscular and slim, purple rather than red. It turned to look at Ambrose, its purple eyes wide as it screeched at him.
Ambrose pushed off and ran down the slope at the demon, slashing at it with his sword. With each slash the demon leaped away, but Ambrose forced it toward Davyon, who stabbed the demon’s thigh. The demon screeched and ran at Ambrose, pulling him farther down the slope and almost wrenching his arm from his body. All Ambrose could do was use the momentum to swing the demon round so that it was nearer to Davyon, who threw himself at the demon, stabbing it in the back. The demon crumpled to the ground, and Ambrose pulled his hand free of the demon’s grip.
Ambrose was breathing hard. They’d made it. Rafyon was helping Tarell to his feet and stumbled with him up the slope.
Ambrose grabbed Davyon’s arm. We need to get out before the tunnel closes. Come on.
Not yet. Grab the demon’s feet.
What?
I’m taking the demon out.
We don’t have time.
We do if you help me. Grab its feet.
CATHERINE
NORTHERN PLATEAU, PITORIA
Power and control—they are my sword and shield.
King Aloysius
THE MUD in the demon hollow still had a red tinge, which meant Ambrose and the others could still get out. Catherine stood at the rim, gripping Tanya’s hand and thinking, Where is he? They’ve been so long. She only remembered she had to speak when Tanya muttered, “They’ll make it. They’ll make it.”
Everyone’s eyes were on the hollow.
Catherine was wondering if someone else should be sent in when Rafyon’s head appeared, shouting, “Help! Pull us out. Hurry.”
The other soldiers surged forward and Catherine moved out of the way. She caught a glimpse of Rafyon and another soldier, but not Ambrose. Where was he? Why had they left him? Catherine felt a wave of sickness. She could lose Ambrose again so easily and be left alone.
Tanya took Catherine’s hand and muttered, “Stay strong.” Then called out, “Where are Ambrose and Davyon?”
Rafyon panted out a reply. “They have the demon beaten. They’re right behind me.”
Then why didn’t they appear?
“I have to look,” Catherine said, stepping forward.
Tanya pulled her back. “No. If the demon is still alive, it may come out. Please wait, Your Highness.”
Before Catherine could do anything, Davyon appeared. The soldiers surged forward to help him and all Catherine could see were their backs. And, when they finally parted, there in the middle of the crowd was Ambrose, sweating and breathing hard, and his eyes also looking for hers.
“Is it dead?” one of the soldiers shouted. And Catherine only now noticed the purple demon at Ambrose’s feet.
There was a gasp from some of the men and some stepped back as smoke began to seep out of the demon’s mouth.
Purple smoke.
Catherine grabbed a water bottle from the side of the man nearest to her, shook out the contents, and held its opening over the highest part of the wisp of smoke. She had to reach up to catch it but then lowered her hand as she became more confident that the smoke was entering the bottle and none was escaping. It happened just as Tash had described to her—once the first lick of a wisp went in, the rest followed. The bottle became heavier and hotter, but still the smoke flowed.
The men around her were muttering and staring. As a princess, she was used to being looked at, but she was aware that she might currently look less like a princess and more like some kind of witch. She had to look like a leader, like she was in control. She said in her most formal voice, “I’m sure you’ve all heard of demon smoke. And I suspect one or two of you may have even tried it. Well, Tash told me that this is how the smoke is collected. If the bottle is held upside down and the first wisp of smoke goes into the bottle, then all the rest of the smoke will follow it in.”
“Where is Tash?” someone asked.
Rafyon answered. “She and Geratan were at the back of the group. I didn’t see if they were killed. Does anyone know?”
“I saw the first demon get Geratan round the throat. Tash was thrown against the tunnel wall,” someone replied.
“They didn’t stand a chance,” was another response.
Catherine’s heart sank. Tash and Geratan were surely dead. But Catherine’s job was to lead the ones that remained, to give the survivors hope.
Catherine held the bottle steady as the smoke began to thin and fade. Only when she was sure that it had finished coming out of the body did she put in the stopper. She then turned to the men and held up the bottle for them to see, shouting out, “Purple demon smoke! It’s because of this that my father has invaded Pitoria. It’s because of this that we are at war with Brigant. It’s because of this that our friends and comrades have been killed in Rossarb and here on the plateau. There’s an illegal trade in red demon smoke; that smoke is sold as a drug for pleasure. But this smoke is different. This purple smoke has a use far more powerful than pleasure. This purple smoke gives great strength to adolescent boys and girls. King Aloysius of Brigant—my father, though I detest to acknowledge him as such—intends to use this purple smoke to fuel an army of boys. To give
them the strength of demons. That is why he has invaded Pitoria. He wants more purple smoke so he can create an unstoppable army.
“This information is hard to believe. It is vital and secret, but I entrust this information to you because you are my loyal men. Together we’ve been through experiences that most people wouldn’t believe. We’ve evaded the Brigantine army. We’ve traveled into the demon world and survived. We’ve killed demons and now collected the purple smoke. Some men won’t believe you when you tell them these stories; some will laugh at you and call you liars. But we know the truth of it.”
A few of the soldiers nodded their heads, and she hoped they trusted her.
Rafyon stepped forward and said, “We’ve lost Jaredd and Aryn, and Tarell is injured. We don’t know what has happened to Geratan and Tash—though we all fear the worst for them. Edyon and March are lost somewhere on the plateau. The cook and the old servant were killed too. They all struggled and fought with us, but now we can do nothing more than keep on going.”
Catherine looked around the group, and the enormity of what lay ahead hit her. They were still in the middle of the Northern Plateau. They were half starved, and though most weren’t injured they were all exhausted. And they no longer had Tash to guide them to safety. Tash was a child, a child she’d brought here. And Geratan was one of the men she’d grown to trust and care about. He’d been one of the first to dye his hair white to show his allegiance to her.
Ambrose came to stand with her and, as if he could still read her thoughts, he said, “Tash and Geratan may still be alive and, if they are, they’ll find a way to get out. Geratan’s a good fighter and Tash—”
“Tash is a child, and however good a fighter Geratan is—was—there were five or six demons that attacked us and who knows how many more were coming.”
Ambrose went quiet, then said, “I sometimes think our lives hang by threads. And some of the threads are broken, some are cut, some just wear out, but as long as there is one thread still holding us we live on. Perhaps they still have a thread or two left.”
