by Darren Shan
It might not mean anything. Then again, it might.
I try the two numbers several times over the course of the day. Not a peep out of either. I dial directory enquiries and get their home number. Ring it, only to find that the line has been disconnected.
One last try. I remember Emmet telling us about his local school. Again I use directory enquiries, then call and ask if I can speak with Emmet Eijit. I say I found his mobile phone and want to return it. The secretary says Emmet’s not at school, he’s making a film. I say I thought he’d finished and returned. No, she says, he hasn’t. I ask if she’s sure, if maybe he’s back home, just not at school. She says definitely not, she knows his mother.
I stare at my phone a long time after that, certain I’ve been tricked. Emmet and his mum are still here, along with Kik—but not necessarily alive.
Night. Kik hasn’t been found. The search teams return at seven. Kuk and his father aren’t with them. The searchers say Mr. Kane and his son have gone home, in case Kik heads there. I groan when I hear that. I hope it’s true. I pray that it is. Not just because I don’t want Kuk and his dad to be dead—but because if it’s a lie, it means the guards who were with them are part of a cover-up. It means it isn’t just Chuda Sool and one or two others I have to be wary of. I might not be able to trust anybody in the entire cast and crew.
Filming resumes in the morning. Davida’s still worried about the missing Kik (or claims to be—who can I trust?), but life must go on. A film costs a fortune to make. Every day is vital. She can’t afford to have her team sitting around idle. So, while a selection of guards took off to search the land around Slawter as the sun rose, the cameras rolled as normal.
They’re filming the second big demon scene tonight. No carnage or loss of life this time. It’s a scene from the third act, in which a demon appears to Bobby Mint and his friends. It predicts doom, warns them of the destruction to come, then tells them they can’t leave, it’s too late, they’re destined to die, along with everyone they care about and love.
I’ve lost interest in filming but I have to go watch tonight’s shoot, to check out the demon. I’ve heard it’s different to the one that killed Emmet. I wonder if this creature will be real or a model? I know what I’d put my money on!
A large crowd gathers for the shoot, but not as many as at the first demon show. This scene’s being shot outside a church, one of the fake buildings in Slawter. In the script, the heroes have gathered inside to discuss the demons and what they can do to alert others to the danger. Those scenes have been filmed—or will be—on an interior set. This scene is set at the end of their debate. They’ve just come out. As they’re heading down the steps, the demon appears out of the church behind them, laughing, saying it’s overheard their entire plan.
Davida sets the scene, runs the actors through their paces, makes sure all the cameras and lights are correctly positioned, then takes her seat. Action!
I watch nervously, holding my breath, as Salit Smit and the others spill out of the church, faces bright and determined. There are eight steps down from the doors. As they hit the second from bottom step, laughter echoes from within.
“Poor, foolish humans,” the demon crows. Salit and his crew whirl, gasping. “You think you know so much. But, like all mortals, your knowledge of the world is pitiful. It would be amusing, were it not so sad.”
I start to shiver at the first syllable. There’s no mistaking that voice, the low, mournful tone. I know what’s coming next. I’d give anything to be wrong but I know I’m not.
The demon appears, gliding out of the shadows. He’s lit perfectly. I hear murmurs of approval from the people around me. They were caught by surprise with Emmet, but they’re ready this time, in control of their emotions. Besides, although this demon is more horrific in appearance than the first, he moves so fluidly and gracefully that they have time to appreciate his design, the months of hard work which must have gone into creating him.
“You cannot defeat me or my kind,” the demon says, looking from one so-called hero to another, then beyond, to the crowd watching the filming. “We can go anywhere you can and to places where you can’t. We see all, hear all, know all. And we will kill all.”
A tall demon, pale red skin with lots of cracks in it, from which blood continually oozes. Dark red eyes. No hair or nose. Grey teeth and tongue. A hole where his heart should be, filled with dozens of tiny snakes. Mangled hands at the ends of eight arms. No feet, just fleshy strips dangling from his waist, giving the appearance of thin, misshapen legs. He doesn’t touch the floor, but hovers a few centimetres above the ground all the time.
“This is our town now, or soon will be,” the demon says. “There is nothing you can do to stop us.” His eyes fall on me and he smiles widely. “There is nothing any of you can do—except be slaughtered.”
Then he laughs and drifts back into the church. The doors slam shut. A boy in the group of heroes screams. Davida yells, “Cut!”
Everyone pours forward, cheering, congratulating the actors, remarking on how realistic and creepy the demon was, questioning how the effects team got it to hover so believably, what mechanics were involved.
But there were no strings or engines. It wasn’t a model or costume. The few doubts I had up to this point vanish. We’re in seriously deep trouble. The demon wasn’t speaking from a script. His words weren’t meant for the fictional characters—but for those of us watching.
There are real demons here. Emmet has been killed, and probably Kik and her relatives too. And it’s going to get worse. Because the monster who wowed the crowd a minute ago is the one who killed my parents and sister, who vowed to kill Dervish, Bill-E and me… the majestic, terrible demon master himself… lowly Lord Loss.
D
Incredibly, impossibly, Dervish doesn’t believe me.
“It was just another guy in a costume,” he says. “You have to stop seeing demons everywhere you look. I know—”
“Don’t!” I snap. I’ve got him by himself, out of earshot of everybody. “That piece of scum killed my Mum and Dad. He slaughtered Gret. Don’t tell me I could ever confuse a movie prop for the real thing. Don’t you dare.”
“Grubbs, I know this is hard, but you’ve got to believe—”
“That was Lord Loss!” I cry.
“It looked like him,” Dervish says soothingly, “but that’s because Davida did a lot of research. She knows what real demons look like. Actually, I helped her out on this one. She had some of the details wrong. She didn’t know about the cracks in his skin, the colour of his eyes or that he didn’t have real feet.”
“Really?” I sneer. “And you filled her in on the facts?”
“Yes,” Dervish says, trying to sound modest.
“And her technicians were able to make the changes—” I click my fingers—“like that? They were able to take elaborate, mechanised costumes they’d been working on for months and alter them within the space of a few days?”
“Yes,” Dervish says evenly.
I stare into my uncle’s eyes but I don’t find him there. The Dervish I know wouldn’t smile at me glibly like this and dismiss my fears so carelessly. Chuda Sool has brainwashed him, I’m sure of it. I’ll have to look elsewhere for allies.
“Where are you going?” Dervish asks as I turn my back on him and march off.
“To find someone who’ll believe.”
I ask Juni to visit Bill-E and me in our room. I say it’s about Bo Kooniart, that I’m having problems with her and would like Juni’s advice. Naturally Juni’s only too happy to help. Promises to drop by within the next half hour.
Bill-E knows something big is up. He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s delighted to be involved, proud that I’m including him. He wasn’t happy when I skulked around the set without him, not saying why, but now I’m bringing him in on the secret, all is forgiven.
I say nothing until Juni arrives, getting things clear in my head, deciding how much to tell them, what to say and wha
t to keep to myself. When she’s finally here, sitting on a chair, hands clasped on her knees, I begin by confessing that I lied. “I didn’t really bring you here to talk about Bo.”
“I guessed,” she smiles. “You’re not a good liar. Which is a positive thing—don’t think I’m criticising you!”
“Before I get down to the crazy stuff, have either of you noticed anything strange about Dervish?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Bill-E frowns.
“I’ll take that as a no. Juni?”
She pauses. “I don’t know your uncle very well, but he’s seemed a little… unfocused recently.”
“You saw it when he was talking with Chuda about the search for Kik, didn’t you?”
“I saw… something,” Juni says cagily. “Dervish has been through a lot these last two years. The responsibility of having to look after you, the temporary loss of his mind, trying to readjust to normal life, the nightmares.”
“Nightmares?” Bill-E asks. We never told him about Dervish’s bad dreams.
“He’s had trouble sleeping recently,” Juni explains.
“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” Bill-E grumbles.
“He finds it easy to share his secrets and fears with me,” Juni says. “He’s able to tell me things he finds hard to discuss with others. I’ve been trying to help him sort through his problems. We were making good progress but now he seems to have regressed.”
“Chuda’s messing with his mind,” I tell her. “Controlling his thoughts.”
“You can’t be serious,” Juni laughs. But her laughter dies away when she sees that I am.
“I’m going to tell you something that will sound insane,” I begin. “Bill-E knows some of it but not all. I need you to hear me out and at least try to believe me.”
“Of course,” Juni says, leaning forward, intrigued.
I take a deep breath. Glance at Bill-E, knowing what I say is going to hurt him, then launch straight in. “Demons killed my parents and sister…”
I fill them in on most of the details. My early encounter with Lord Loss. Escape. Madness. Recovery. Moving to Carcery Vale. The curse of the Gradys. Then the big one—Bill-E turning into a werewolf.
“So that’s it!” Bill-E cries. He’s trembling, his lazy eyelid quivering wildly. “I never bought your story that Dervish locked me up to protect me. I knew there was something you weren’t telling.” He glares at me accusingly. “You lied to me.”
“We didn’t want to hurt you,” I sigh.
“I can take hurt. Not lies. You should have told me.”
“Maybe,” I mutter miserably.
“So, am I cured?” Bill-E snarls.
“Yes.”
“For real? Forever?”
I nod glumly, then outline the deal which certain members of our family had going with Lord Loss, the chess matches, the battles with his familiars. I tell them how Dervish and I challenged Lord Loss on Bill-E’s behalf. The only part I leave out is the truth about Bill-E’s father. I don’t tell him we had the same dad. This isn’t the time to open that can of worms.
Bill-E’s rage dwindles as he hears what Dervish and I risked to save him. He’s staring at me with awe now, tears trickling down his cheeks. I find that more unsettling than his anger. He’s gawping at me as if I’m some kind of hero. But I’m not. I only did it because he’s my brother, but I can’t tell him that, not now. He thinks Dervish is his dad. If I told him the truth, I’d be hitting him with the news that his real father’s dead.
I finish quickly with the last few months, Dervish defeating Lord Loss in his demonic realm and regaining his senses, the nightmares, coming here to try and sort himself out, the demon which killed Emmet, overhearing Tump Kooniart and Chuda Sool talking, the appearance of Lord Loss.
“It was definitely him,” I tell them. “I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure before, but now I am. There are real demons in Slawter. Chuda and Tump are working for them, along with some of the crew. Davida might be one of their allies too. Lord Loss swore revenge on me, Dervish and Bill-E. So the three of us are for the chop, no doubt about it. Probably the rest of you as well.”
Silence. Bill-E is staring at me, torn between hero-worship, terror and doubt. Juni doesn’t know what to think or say. She’s probably heard all sorts in her time, but nothing like this. She’s trying to think of a gentle way of denying what I’m saying, without insulting or enraging me.
“It’s OK,” I smile. “You can say I’m crazy. I won’t mind.”
“People roll out that word too swiftly,” Juni objects. “It’s an easy fall-back. I try never to make such gross generalisations. But…”
“…in this case you’ll make an exception,” I finish for her.
She grins shakily. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“But you were thinking it, right?”
She tilts her head uncertainly. “We have a lot to discuss. This goes back a long way. You have deep-rooted issues which we’ll have to work through, one at a time. To begin with—”
“Do you believe in magic?” I interrupt.
“No,” Juni says plainly.
“What if I could convince you?”
“How?”
I’ve been thinking a lot about this. I knew words alone wouldn’t be enough. I haven’t done anything magical since melting the pen, but I’m sure magic is still in the air, surrounding me, waiting to be channelled. It had better be or else I really will look like a loon!
“Is that worth a lot?” I ask, pointing at the watch on her wrist.
“No,” she frowns.
“Does it matter to you? Would you miss it if you lost it?”
“Not really. Where is this going, Grubbs?”
“You’ll see.” I fix my gaze on the watch, willing it to melt. I’m anticipating a struggle, but almost as soon as I focus, the watch liquidises and drips off Juni’s hand.
“Ow!” Juni yelps, leaping to her feet and rubbing her wrist. “It’s hot!”
“Sorry!” I jump up too. “Are you OK? Do you want me to get some ice or—”
“I’m fine,” Juni snaps, then quits rubbing, stares at the red mark left behind by the melted metal, then at the puddle on the floor, then at me. “Grubbs… what the hell?” she croaks.
“That was just for openers,” I beam, confidence bubbling up. “Have you ever wanted to fly?”
In the end we don’t fly. Juni isn’t ready to open the window and soar over the buildings of Slawter. I’m not either, really. But we levitate a bit, to prove that the melting watch wasn’t a hoax, that this is real magic, not some stage trick.
“This is incredible!” Juni laughs as I make the light switch on and off just by looking at it, while juggling six pairs of balled-up socks without touching them.
“Bloody amazing is what it is!” Bill-E gasps. “Could I do that too?”
“Maybe,” I say, flicking the light on and off a few more times, then letting the socks drop. “Dervish said lots of people have magical potential. They just don’t know it. The magic’s thick in the air around us here, but you and the others aren’t aware of it. I am, because I fought demons and part of my mind—the part that’s magic—opened up. If you could open that part of your mind, I bet you could do everything I can.”
“I need to get me a demon to whup,” Bill-E mutters.
“Of course, it could all be in my head,” Juni says. “You could have slipped me hallucinogenic substances. I might be imagining the watch, floating, the socks.”
Bill-E wrinkles his nose. “You couldn’t hallucinate the smell of Grubbs’ socks!” he says and we all laugh.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I ask Juni.
“No,” she sighs. “But I want to keep an open mind, like you advised. That means not accepting your story about demons even if the magic is real.” She looks at me earnestly. “One doesn’t verify the other. I haven’t seen any evidence of demons yet.”
“You don’t need to!” I groan. “If demons ar
en’t real, where am I getting my power from?”
“I have no idea,” Juni says. “You might be generating it naturally, subconsciously. The demons might simply be your way of rationalising your powers.” She holds up a hand as I start to argue. “I’m not saying that is the case—just that it might be.”
Juni sits back, a troubled look on her face. “Actually I can’t tell you how much I hope that the demons are a product of your imagination. For Emmet’s sake, Kik’s and the others.”
“I know,” I mutter. “I wish they weren’t real too. But they are.”
She licks her lips, frowning deeply, trying to get her head around what I’m telling her. “I need proof,” she finally says. “I’m not sure what you want me to do, but I can’t do anything until I’ve seen direct evidence.”
“I want you to help Dervish,” I tell her. “Chuda Sool has some sort of mind lock on him. I want you to help me break it. You can do that without believing in demons, can’t you?”
“Perhaps,” she says. “But I don’t want to go anywhere near your uncle’s mind until I know for sure what I’m dealing with.”
“I think I can prove it,” I say softly, lowering my gaze. “But it could be dangerous. The sort of dangerous where we all die horribly if things go wrong.”
“I’m prepared to take that risk,” Juni says evenly.
“Me too,” Bill-E pipes up bravely, though the squeak in his voice betrays his fear.
I nod reluctantly. “Demons don’t appear out of thin air. They have to be summoned. Their universe has to merge with ours. A window or tunnel between worlds has to be opened. If Lord Loss and the other demon were real, there has to be a place where they crossed. A secret place. A place where nobody but their human partners can get into.”
“The D workshops,” Bill-E and Juni say at the exact same time.
“Got it in one,” I chuckle bleakly.
Juni keeps saying she must be crazy for going along with this, it’s a mad plan, she should have her head examined. But the magic unnerved her. She’s confused, not in complete control. I should give her a day to think things over and clear her head. But she might not play ball if I did. She might start rationalising and analysing, and decide nobody in her position should break into a building. Worse—she might tell Davida what I believe and tip our enemies off. So I rush her along, allowing her no time to think.
