To Summon Nightmares

by J. K. Pendragon

  Niall shook his head and reached down to grab the book. "Don't be sorry," he said. "I'm doing this for you because I want to. It'll make everything better."

  Jacky nodded in agreement.

  "All right." Niall looked down at the summoning ritual on the page. "Now, here and here's where you say Khireneth. You must pronounce it properly. Khireneth."

  "Khireneth," repeated Jacky. "Got it. Here and here."

  "Good," said Niall. "All right, on the count of three." He took a deep breath. "One. Two. Three."

  They began to read. Perhaps it was only because they were concentrating on the book, but it seemed that the light dimmed and the candles flickered, despite the lack of wind. At first their reading was clumsy and awkward, but soon they began to pick up speed, their voices merging together effortlessly. They spoke faster and faster, until Niall was sure that the words were forming themselves, forcing themselves out of his mouth. There was no going back now.

  A darkness was forming in the centre of the circle, a darkness that was not simply a shadow or an absence of light, but a darkness that banished light in the way light normally did darkness. The candles underneath it seemed to shimmer and dim, until they were all but non-existent, like blind spots in the corner of Niall's vision.

  His tongue slid over the word Khireneth, like the slicing of a sharp knife, and then again, and it felt as if a thick powder was working its way up from his lungs to fill his mouth. Like chalk. He resisted the urge to cough and kept going. Jacky's voice was strong beside him, but he could hear him choking a little, too. As they reached the bottom of the page and the end of the incantation, it became almost impossible to talk, to breathe, to think. His mouth was filling with chalk, his vision with darkness. He could no longer see the words, he was reciting from memory, or from desperation. At last they came to the end and he spat out the last three words "Khireneth, Khireneth, Khireneth."

  With the last sound, his mouth became unstopped like a bottle, and it was as if all sound hissed from the room. The candles blew out, the darkness expanded to envelop all. And then the darkness receded. The candles flickered back to light, and the sound came back into the room.

  In the middle of the circle stood a man.

  Niall wasn't surprised. He hadn't been expecting a hell beast or horns or anything of the sort. He knew that demons liked to appear as humans. To humans, at least.

  He heard Jacky cough beside him and quickly turned to help him. Jacky hunched over, coughing until his voice became hoarse, while Niall held him. At last he straightened up, his eyes watering. Niall felt the need to cough too, but he forced it down.

  The man was watching them patiently. It was difficult to look at him, somehow. As if it felt disrespectful. But that was probably just his demon's influence. They were in control here.

  "Hello," said the demon in a bland, English accent. His voice was surprisingly normal. He sounded like a BBC newscaster, or a politician. "My name is Khireneth. What's yours? And where, might I ask, am I?"

  "Don't tell him your name," said Niall to Jacky, who nodded.

  The demon looked pleased. "Good decision," he said. "But I deduce by your accent that we are," he looked around. "Somewhere in Ireland? Go on, say something else."

  Niall gritted his teeth. "We're not gonna tell you where we are."

  "Somewhere near Cork, I'd say, but not quite that urban." He looked around again. "The countryside?"

  "You don't know that," said Jacky, speaking up, although his voice wavered. "We could be anywhere, and just from Ireland."

  "Ah, but you both have the same accent."

  "We might be brothers," said Niall desperately.

  "Oh, don't try that," said the demon. "You're obviously lovers."

  Niall felt his face blanch. No one had guessed that. No one. They'd kept it such a good secret. And now this man had figured it out within a few minutes. "Never mind that, we have a proposition for you."

  "Oh, and here I thought you'd just invited me round for tea."

  "The—" Jacky swallowed. "The books say you call yourself Champion of the Oppressed."

  The demon turned his head to look at Jacky, and Niall suddenly realized why the demon's appearance was so off-putting. His eyes were a bright, sunflower yellow. He raised his eyebrows at Jacky. "And you fancy yourself oppressed, do you? Yes, you do, I can see it in your eyes. Well, of course, I would love to help. In exchange for something else, of course."

  "Right, yes," cut in Niall, feeling that the conversation was slipping out of his control in an uncomfortable way. "We'd like to offer you a year off each of our lives, in exchange for your help."

  The demon turned those yellow eyes on Niall. "And what on earth would I do with that?" he asked.

  Niall stuttered. "Th-the book said—"

  "Yes, I'm not quite sure how I feel about your book, boy."

  "My father," said Jacky. "I want him gone."

  "Yes?" said the demon, still staring down Niall. "And is that your offer or your request?"

  "W-what?" gasped Niall.

  "Are you," said the demon, "offering me the boy's father, in exchange for something from me."

  "No!" said Niall, but at the same time, Jacky cut in.

  "What could you give us?" he asked. "In exchange for my father?"

  "Are you mad?" cried Niall, but the demon had already turned to Jacky.

  "In return for the body and soul of a wretched man?" He smiled. "So very, very much."

  "No, J—" Niall gritted his teeth. He had to get Jacky's attention. "You can't!"

  "Could you give me magic?" asked Jacky. "Like, powerful magic, like you have?"

  "But of course," said the demon. "If that is what you want."

  "It's not what we want!" said Niall. His heart was racing, his fists clenched. Jacky was about to make another one of his stupid decisions, and he had to stop him. "Our bodies aren't designed for that kind of power, it'd kill us!" He didn't know if that was true or not, but he needed Jacky to listen to him.

  "On the contrary," said the demon. "It would take some practice, but the right person, I think, could wield such power fabulously."

  Jacky had a strange look in his eye. Niall grabbed him, forced him to look at him. He wanted desperately to say his name, had to stop himself. "You can't do this. Your father—"

  "My father deserves whatever he gets," said Jacky, his voice calm but full of vitriol at the same time, his eyes wide and terrible. "Niall, we have to do this!"

  Niall could hardly comprehend what Jacky was suggesting. How could someone he loved even be considering...

  Jacky turned back to the demon. "All right, I'll do it."

  "No!" said Niall.

  "Niall," Jacky turned to him. "Shut up."

  The demon was standing, his arms crossed and a finger on his chin. "And who do I listen to?"

  "Me!" said Niall. "I'm in charge here!"

  "Really?" said the demon. "It doesn't seem that way."

  "I accept your terms," said Jacky. "My father is sleeping in the bedroom on the top floor. You can have him in exchange for the power you spoke of. For me and Niall."

  "I don't want it!" Niall gripped Jacky's arm, tried to pull him away from the demon, but Jacky retaliated, pulling Niall back with a surprisingly firm grip and then knocking him away with a swift blow. Niall fell backwards, too surprised to react.

  "You'll thank me for it, later," said Jacky. He turned to the demon. "Do it."

  The demon smiled, and nodded at the knife, discarded on the ground. Niall lunged for it, but Jacky got there first. "Blood," said the demon, and Jacky put the knife to his palm, slicing it open. Niall was crying, begging Jacky over and over, but Jacky wielded the knife at him when he tried to approach. He reached out for Jacky once more, and Jacky sliced at him, drawing blood from his arm.

  Jacky grabbed him with his cut hand, smearing their blood together. The demon was at the edge of the circle, farther than he should have been able to go, holding a palm up to Jacky. Blood dripped from a sh
arp cut there, glinting in the candlelight.

  "No, Jacky!" cried Niall, but Jacky reached up and pressed his palm to the demon's.

  "Say the words," ordered the demon. "Release me, and it shall be done."

  Jacky said the words, quickly and effortlessly. He must have memorized them, too. Or the demon had given them to him. His voice was liquid and gravel and then Niall felt chalk in his throat again, and he began to choke. Darkness swooped over them, the candles extinguished. Niall choked again, harder, desperately drawing in a breath. And then it felt as if, along with the air, the darkness entered him, pushing itself deep into him.

  Then the pain began, and there was nothing else.

  *~*~*

  His body felt stiff when he awoke, but for a moment all he could feel was relief that the pain from last night was gone. It had gone on for hours, ripping through his body, pain like he'd never felt before. He'd broken his leg once, when he was eleven, and the pain he'd felt then was the closest he had ever come to this. But he hadn't wanted to die then, hadn't wanted it to all be over, just so the pain would stop. Last night he'd wished for death, wished he had never been born. But still the pain had continued, white hot and burning and tearing him apart from the inside. He'd been unable to see, unable to feel anything but the pain, and to hear his own screams mixed with Jacky's for hours and hours. When sleep had finally come, he'd clung to it desperately, letting it drag him down into oblivion.

  Now it was all over. The pain was gone, blissful relief in its stead. There was a light shining, insistent, behind his eyelids, and he was stiff from lying on the cellar floor. He opened his eyes and coughed at the dust that he lay in, looking around for Jacky. Light streamed down from the open cellar door, sparkling on the dust motes. The remains of the summoning lay strewn about him, melted candles and lines of chalk, scuffed and smudged by his writhing in the night. His bag lay open, its contents scattered and he noticed, his mind still hazy, that his books were missing.

  His eyes were stinging from the dust. He rubbed them and rolled over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. The light bulb was still burning, dim compared to the bright morning sunlight. Where was Jacky? He must have left, because the cellar door was open and they'd closed it last night. Why hadn't he woken Niall up?

  The sound of his mobile ringing startled him. The ringtone was familiar, oddly so, as if it belonged to something from a past life. It was coming from his bag, where he'd stashed his phone last night. He leaned towards the bag, several meters away from him, and suddenly the phone was in his hand.

  What? No, that wasn't right; it had been in his bag, across the room. He stared down at the phone in his hand, the small screen lit up with an incoming call from his parents. Shit, his parents. He flipped the phone open and held it to his ear.

  "Hullo?"

  "Niall, thank god! Where the devil are you?" His father's voice was loud and angry with a note of panic.

  Niall groaned, rubbing his eyes again. "I'm fine, dad, I'm at Jacky's. I—I spent the night."

  He heard his father relay the information to his mother, and then her sigh of relief. "What kind of game are you trying to play, son? You have to tell us where you're going, you know that!"

  "I know Dad, but it was important." Niall screwed his eyes shut, trying to think. There was something he was forgetting. Something important.

  "Oh? And what was so important?"

  "I have to," Niall shook his head. "I have to find Jacky, Dad, I think he's done something horrible."

  "What? All right, Niall, stay there, your mother and I are going to come get you."

  "I... all right." He had begun to shake, as if his shoulders could no longer support his weight. His hands were trembling and his stomach felt sick. Jacky. What had Jacky done? "See you soon." He snapped the phone shut, swallowing hard. "J-Jacky?" He took a deep breath. "Jacky!"

  No answer. Slowly, he stood, shoving his phone into his pocket and struggling to find his footing. He stumbled up the stairs, flinching in the bright light. "Jacky!"

  The door to the house was open, banging against its hinges in the cold breeze that had picked up overnight. Niall stepped inside, his footsteps echoing on the grimy linoleum floor. There was a reason Niall never spent the night here; the place was a dump. Beer bottles covered the counters and floor, perched precariously on the edges and spewing out of trash bags, and the buzz of flies sounded from the dish-filled sink.

  He called Jacky's name again, wanting very badly to leave. He wandered over to the sink to look at the flies, swarming over an old ground beef package. One buzzed near his face, and he swatted at it distractedly. He felt his hand make contact with the insect's body, and then a flash of sizzling heat. The fly's body dropped to the floor. Niall stared at it. It was smoking.

  That sickness was back in his stomach again. He backed away from the sink, lifting a hand to stare at his palm. It looked perfectly normal. What had happened? What had he done?

  "Jacky!" he called again, hearing his voice croak with panic. He turned to run, he didn't know where, and nearly ran into Jacky. His face was close to Niall's, his eyes bright and his mouth in a wide smile, and Niall felt the strange urge to back away.

  "Niall!" said Jacky, his hands clenching around Niall's arms. "Niall, he's gone! I've looked everywhere, he's not here!"

  Niall tugged away, trying to break free of Jacky's iron grip. "Who's not here?"

  Jacky's grin expanded. "Who do you think? My dad, he's gone! The demon did it!"

  "Gone?" Sickness. Sickness in the pit of his stomach, spreading through him. He was going to retch. "Gone where, Jacky?"

  Jacky shook his head, his eyes still wide and wild. "What does it matter? He's gone! Niall? What's wrong?" Niall felt himself collapsing and Jacky reached forward. Suddenly there was a chair right under Niall, where he could have sworn there wasn't one before. "Did you see that, Niall? Did you see what I did?"

  "Jacky, you've got to calm down." Niall forced himself to breathe. Forced himself to think. For Jacky. "Something... something bad has happened to us. Something dangerous."

  "It's not dangerous," said Jacky. "I can—" He turned suddenly to look out the open door. "Who's that?"

  "My parents," said Niall. "Jacky, we should tell them what happened. We need to... to go to the hospital or something." You need to go to the police. But what would he tell the police? That they'd summoned a demon? That Jacky had...

  "Niall!" His mother's voice was coming from the drive, and he could hear the car doors slamming. "Niall, are you here?"

  Jacky was tugging on Niall's sleeve. "Come on, let's go talk to them."

  Niall forced himself to stand, to walk to the door with Jacky. His parents were coming. Everything would be okay. Everything would get sorted out.

  "Mrs. Daly!" called Jacky, stepping into the cold wind. "Mr. Daly, hello!"

  "Jacky, what's going on?" Niall's mother squinted as Niall emerged after Jacky. "Niall, thank god!" She pulled Niall into a tight, comforting embrace, but Niall pulled away quickly. He shouldn't touch her. It wasn't safe. Not until... He swallowed.

  "Mam," he said, his voice cracking.

  "What's going on, Niall?" she said, smoothing his hair from his face. "Why did you run away last night?"

  "I was gonna come back," he said. "I didn't mean to worry you."

  Niall's father was peering around Naill into the house. "Is your father here, Jacky?"

  "My father?" said Jacky. "My father doesn't live here."

  Niall swung his head around to stare at Jacky. Was he going insane? Niall's parents knew that Jacky lived here with his father, ever since he was a child. "Jacky, what?"

  But Niall's father was looking at Jacky curiously. "Oh, of course, you're right. I'm sorry."

  "Nothing bad's happening," continued Jacky. "Niall just spent the night."

  "No," said Niall. "No, something bad is happening." He could feel something at the back of his throat. Like a lump of energy, like something he could spit out along with his words.
But he didn't want to.

  Jacky was doing it, though. He could hear that energy in Jacky's voice as he spoke, explaining that Niall had spent the night, like they'd planned, and they were just heading out to school now. His parents nodded at him, their eyes strangely glazed.

  "Mam, Da, stop, we need to go to the police." The lump at the back of his throat again. He could make them believe him, if he wanted to. But he didn't. The thought made him sick. "Jacky, what are you doing?"

  "Hush Niall, it's fine," said Jacky. He was still grinning at Niall's parents. "So we'll see you tonight," he said.

  His parent's blinked rapidly, as if the glaze was clearing from their eyes, and then Niall's mother pulled him close for another hug. "See you tonight," she said. "Love you."

  "Mam!" he shouted, but she was already turning away, heading back to the car.

  Jacky turned to Niall, a look of triumph on his face as the car drove away. "Did you see that?" he squealed.

  "No, Jacky. Jacky." Niall let that energy pervade his words now, although it didn't seem to have much of an effect on Jacky, besides to make him smile widely at Niall.

  "Ah, look, you can do it too! Brilliant!"

  "It's not, Jacky, you—it's not brilliant, it's dangerous! What if you hurt them?"

  "I didn't hurt them, I just persuaded them. It's magic! Like I asked for! Like you do!"

  "It's not what I do!" said Niall, his voice becoming louder as he spoke. "That's black magic, Jacky. It's dangerous! It's not safe, you could hurt them! You could seriously damage them, do you understand? My parents!" He choked. He could feel himself beginning to cry. The warmth of his mother's hug was slipping away.

  Jacky looked concerned for a moment. "I'm sorry, Niall, I didn't think."

  "You're right, you didn't!" said Niall, forcing back tears. "You've done something awful, Jacky, and we need to... we need to figure it out. I don't know how, but somehow we've got to get rid of these... these powers before we hurt someone!"

  Jacky shook his head vehemently. "I don't want to get rid of them though. I'm finally free."

  Niall felt his heart drop into his stomach like a rock, sending ripples of disgust and despair through him. "Jacky, your father is... your father is dead. You killed him!"