by Darren Shan
his way. The surviving werewolves crowd around him and tear at the shadows too.
“Nearly there,” Beranabus roars cheerfully as Dervish and Meera are knocked aside, and I narrowly avoid being speared through the center of my head.
A hole appears in the side of the Shadow. Light shines through, blinding after the gloominess of this unnatural realm. The werewolves howl gleefully and double their efforts. The hole widens and I hit it with another blast of energy. Bec focuses on the area around it. Grubbs rips at the shadows like a madman. More holes and tears appear. Some of the souls drift free and disappear as they hit the air outside. Others follow, streaming after the first few. The holes widen, then the fabric around them crumbles away. The hissing reaches its peak, only now it’s a scream of pain. Souls dart from their prison, sensing escape, surging towards the exit from all parts of Death’s makeshift body.
Beranabus yodels enthusiastically, fighting the flow, holding his position. “Not bad,” he chuckles approvingly.
“Is that it?” I cry, hardly daring to believe it could be this simple. “Have we killed Death?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beranabus snorts. “Death can’t die.”
“But conscious Death… the Shadow… have we destroyed it?” I yell.
“No,” Beranabus says sadly, sounding more like his old self. “You’ve delayed matters, that’s all. It will have to find new souls and create another body. That will take weeks, maybe a month or two. Then it will be back, stronger than ever. Having learned from this setback, it will be more vigilant. You won’t pierce its defenses so easily again.”
“Then how will we beat it?” I shriek. “How will we win?”
“You won’t,” Beranabus whispers. Then he’s gone, whipped free of his prison, cheering wildly, to depart the universe of the living once and for all, bound for whatever lies beyond. Bec yells a frantic farewell but I don’t think he hears. He doesn’t care about life now or those who inhabit it. He’s done.
As I stare at the souls flying past, shocked by Beranabus’s parting prophecy, Death’s brittle shell dissolves and I fall through the layers of shadow onto hard, dry land—and drop into the middle of an army of millions of demons.
SWAN SONG
RANKS of monsters surround us, stretching far into the distance. This must be the world from which the Demonata are plotting their invasion of Earth, the base from which they send troops when they open windows to our world. We knew an army was massing but we never dared confront it. Beranabus was a reckless fighter but he wasn’t crazy. He knew we couldn’t hope to face this many demons and walk away alive.
The demons have backed off from the disintegrating mammoth of the Shadow. They’re watching it with alarm, chittering and bellowing, not sure what’s going on. It’s their leader. Death drew them together, promising them control of the universe and eternal life. Now it’s falling to pieces like a punctured zeppelin. They don’t know what to do.
“There!” shrieks an all-too-recognizable voice. Pushing myself to my feet, I spy her near the fore of the demons to my left—Nadia Moore, AKA Juni Swan. She’s by the side of her eight-armed master, Lord Loss. Both are staring at us with a mix of hatred and uncertainty.
I look around slowly, showing no signs of panic in case I incite the Demonata. Grubbs and Bec are nearby. Grubbs has also seen Juni and Lord Loss. He’s taking deep breaths, preparing for battle. Bec is fixing her arm and doesn’t seem to be aware of the trouble we’re in. Dervish is using magic to revive Meera, glancing around anxiously as he fans her back to life. The ten surviving werewolves have gathered in a circle behind Grubbs, growling softly as they eyeball the demons. And a little further over, hopping around, unaware that we’ve escaped the stomach of the Shadow, is Kirilli Kovacs.
“Grubbs,” I hiss. “Any ideas?”
“Can you open a window?” he mutters, cracking his knuckles.
“I’ve already started,” I whisper, nudging patches of light into place with deft flicks of my fingers, not wanting to alert our enemies to the fact that I’m at work. “It’ll take a few minutes. Can you cover me?”
“I’ll give it a good shot,” he growls, then bellows at Lord Loss. “Where’s your mighty leader now? Death offered you the universe and immortality. Hah!”
Bec finishes setting her arm and calmly walks over to Grubbs. She stands behind him, back to back. Dervish and a woozy Meera shuffle up beside them. When Kirilli hears Grubbs, he stops dancing and stares around. The werewolves haven’t moved, awaiting Grubbs’s command.
“Very commendable, Grubitsch,” Lord Loss says. His voice silences the mutterings and snarls of the other demons. He drifts to the front of the army, Juni by his side. When he’s in the open, he looks at each of us in turn and smiles. “But Death cannot be destroyed. You have merely inconvenienced it. A valiant victory, but you have only won a battle, not the war. You know that. We all know that.” He addresses the last cry to the army of demons, raising his voice, and they roar back encouragingly.
“This feels like a reunion,” Lord Loss says, smiling sadly, the snakes writhing in the hole where his heart should be, blood oozing from the many cracks in his pale red flesh. “So many familiar faces. Grubitsch, Dervish, Cornelius, even little Bec, back from the dead and as tenacious as ever.”
“Master,” Juni murmurs, nodding sharply at me.
“I am aware of Cornelius’s efforts,” Lord Loss chuckles. “Don’t worry, sweet Swan, he will not have time to open a window. I let him get this far in order to fan the flames of hope in their hearts. Now that those flames are flickering nicely”— his red eyes flash dangerously—“it is time to quench them.” He shouts at the millions of demons, “Attack!”
With a volley of deafening screams and howls, the army surges forward and smashes to the ground around us, a living wave of chaos, barbarism, and death.
We’d perish in seconds without the power of the Kah-Gash. But as soon as Lord Loss roars, Grubbs grabs Bec, leaps to my side, and wraps an arm around me. Unifying our magic, he draws from the power in the air and erects a hasty but sturdy barrier around us. Instead of driving us to the floor and ripping us to shreds, the demons deflect off the shield.
I work on the window as the demons lash and claw at the barrier. It covers all of us except Kirilli, who was too far away and has been cut off, swamped by the army of demonic warriors. It’s a powerful shield, impervious to physical assault. If the demons continue to hurl themselves at it, they won’t inflict any damage and we’ll be out of here in another couple of—
“Stand aside!” Lord Loss yells, blasting his way through a pack of gibbering beasts. He studies the barrier and sneers, then howls a phrase of magic. Energy crackles in all eight of his hands. He lets it build, then directs it at the barrier, a stream of sizzling, purple power. Lord Loss is a demon master, far superior to any human in the ways of magic. Nothing should be able to stand against him. But we’re the Kah-Gash and I sense within seconds that we’re stronger than our foe. I laugh confidently. We’re going to walk out of this without even a scratch. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when…
Juni lays a hand on Lord Loss’s lumpy flesh. She’s changed a lot since I last saw her and has become a mutated, flesh-dripping, impossibly ugly beast. Her eyes flare with shocking madness and naked hate. I remember when, as Nadia Moore, she saved my life. She’d committed herself to Lord Loss by that stage, but there was still room in her heart for human feelings.
Not anymore. She’s become that which she once fought, every bit as heartless as a true child of the Demonata. She screeches vilely and unleashes a burst of magic at the barrier. At her cry, demons huddle around the pair and link with them, adding their energy to hers and Lord Loss’s, focusing their combined forces on the shield.
“Grubbs!” Bec pants, feeling the barrier give. “We need more power.”
“I can’t,” he gasps, sweating as we all are, buckling under the strain. “This is as far… as I dare unleash it. If I give it more freed
om… I won’t be able to control it. Anything could… happen.”
I don’t understand what he’s saying. He must be insane. The barrier will break and they’ll be on us in seconds. We have to throw everything we have at them or else we’re doomed.
Then I remember when we last gave the Kah-Gash absolute freedom. It drove the universes back in time. If we could count on it working in our favor again, there’d be no need to worry. But we don’t know what it will do if we set it loose a second time. Maybe it would give us the strength to defeat the demons—or maybe it would wipe out our universe and hand victory to the Demonata. We dare not play that card unless all else is lost. Our situation is desperate but not hopeless, and until that changes, Grubbs is right to hold back.
“We have to fight,” he roars. “Are you ready?” I nod weakly. “Bec?”
“Go for it,” she growls.
With a battle-hungry cry, Grubbs explodes the barrier. A wall of energy spreads like a ripple from a nuclear explosion, flattening the demons closest to us. For a few seconds we’re standing at the center of a clear circle, confusion reigning all around. Then the demons farther back recover, bellow brutally, and push forward, clambering over the bodies of the fallen, to surround and enclose us.
The real fight begins.
It’s wilder than any battle I’ve ever been involved in. I’ve laughed in the face of overwhelming odds before, but nobody’s laughing now. There are too many of them, demons of every rank, from familiars up to masters like Lord Loss. All they share is a total hatred of us and a determination to strip our flesh from our bones.
We strike without pause, using bolts and fireballs of magic. Hundreds perish within seconds, but still they press on, thousands of fresh monsters to replace each that falls.
I try to stay in touch with Bec and Grubbs, but we’re forced apart. Grubbs is dragged away by several demons at least five times his size. A winged beast snatches Bec from the ground and shoots into the air with her.
I go down under the feet of dozens of hard-shelled demons. Claws slash, fangs and pincers snap. I feel cuts open down my legs and arms, across my stomach and chest. I ignore the pain, use magic to numb the worst of it, and with a great effort thrust off the demons. Yelling, I stagger to my feet, then collapse again beneath a dinosaur-shaped beast.
Fangs lock around my throat and tighten. I turn the flesh of my neck to steel but the fangs continue to grind together. This is the end. There’s nothing I can do. Some wounds are fatal, no matter how magical you are. Once my throat’s been crushed, I’m as dead as—
A silver, purple-tipped spike pokes sharply through the center of the dinosaur’s head. It squeals, then falls aside. A panting Dervish pulls me to my feet. The spikes on his head have tripled in length and writhe like snakes, independent of one another, jabbing at the demons around us, driving them back.
“How much longer will it take you to open that freakin’ window?” he roars.
I look for the patches of light. They’re twenty feet away, drifting apart. With a curse, I summon them, pat the stray patches into place, and start adding new lights to the pack.
“How long?” Dervish screams again, blood flowing from a chunk that’s been bitten out of the left side of his chest—I see snapped white bones poking through the streams of red.
“Maybe a minute,” I gasp, hands blurring.
I glance around as I’m putting the window together. Grubbs is back on his feet, supported by his retinue of werewolves, who’ve torn into the demons around him, attacking rabidly, tearing strips out of their foes. Bec is still fighting with the winged demon and has forced it towards the ground. Meera’s close by, doggedly working her way back to us. Her left arm’s been severed at the shoulder. Half her face is a clawed-up, blood-soaked mess—her beauty’s been spoiled forever. But more worrying than that are the guts dangling from a hole in her stomach, and the small demon wrapped around her waist, tugging at the intestines, reeling them out like a cat unraveling a ball of string.
“Meera!” I scream, desperate to help but needing to stay focused on the window. It’s our only hope of escape. If I abandon it, we’re all doomed.
Dervish has spotted Meera too. He begins to dart to her rescue, then swears and drives back a multi-eyed monster that was about to snap off my hands. He has to stand guard. I can’t protect myself while I’m working on the window. He’s tied to his post, as I am. He weeps with frustration as he fights off the hordes clustered around us, muttering Meera’s name over and over.
The demon working on Meera’s guts stick its head into the hole in her stomach. It’s giggling sickeningly, like a child tucking into a box of treats. But then its head explodes and it topples to the ground. A figure breaks through the demons around Meera and hauls her forward, towards us. I think my eyes are playing tricks, but when I blink and see the same thing, I realize I’m not dreaming.
Kirilli Kovacs is plowing through the ranks of demons. One of his hands has turned into a steel scythe and he’s mowing down all who come too close. He’s the one who rescued Meera.
“Kovacs, you lunatic!” Dervish yells with delight. “You’re supposed to be a coward!”
“I am!” Kirilli screeches.
“Then what the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t know! I think I’m saving the day! It feels—”
A demon sweeps Kirilli’s legs from under him. He flies into the air with a yelp, then is knocked sideways by a bellowing, half-human beast intent on getting her hands on us before any of the others finish us off. Juni Swan is back in the thick of the action.
She angles for Dervish, dripping flesh as she charges, swiping demons out of her way, teeth bared, eyes rolling madly. With a welcoming grunt, Dervish sets his feet firmly and snarls, losing interest in all the other monsters, forgetting his duty to protect me. As Juni rushes him, he grabs hold of her arms and swings her around like an adult whirling a baby. Juni spits acid into his face. He neutralizes it swiftly but not before a wide swathe of his flesh bubbles away. The pair fall to the ground, wrestling savagely, stabbing, biting, punching, and spitting, each hellbent on murdering the other.
The window’s almost fully formed, but there’s no one to watch my back now. Several hound-like demons press tight around me, snapping at my face, digging channels in my flesh with their jagged claws. “Grubbs! Bec!” I scream, turning from the window to drive back the demons. “I need help!”
Grubbs roars at his werewolves. Slipping free of the giants, they struggle towards me, blasting and chewing a path through the packed ranks of monsters.
In the air, Bec’s seen off the challenge of the winged demon, but Lord Loss has hit the scene. The pair tumble and roll around overhead. Half his arms are holding her rigidly against his rancid flesh. The other half are lashing her, pulling her hair, trying to gouge out her eyes, digging into her soft flesh.
Meera’s in bad shape, but she shoves fistfuls of guts back into the hole in her stomach and dives to Dervish’s rescue, pulls Juni Swan off of him, and scratches at the traitor’s eyes. Juni screeches and tries to knock her away but Meera’s stronger than she looks, and she loves Dervish as much as Juni hates him. Grabbing hold of Juni’s bloated, rotten head, she jerks her hard and they spin away. Dervish tries to follow but gets tangled up with another demon.
Grubbs and the few surviving werewolves make it to my side. They’re all badly wounded but they fight as viciously as ever. As they form a half-wall around me, Grubbs yells at me to finish the window and I hurry to obey. The fingers of my left hand have been crushed but I can still manipulate the patches. Sobbing with pain and fear, I slot one after another into place, praying for the lights to gel and the window to open before it’s too late.
Juni’s laughing. She’s got both hands inside the hole in Meera’s stomach and is forcing them up through the layers of guts that still remain, seeking to crush lungs, the heart… whatever she can find.
“Meera!” Dervish howls, trying to force his way through to her but fai
ling.
Meera smiles painfully. She’s got her arms wrapped around Juni, holding tight. As Juni tears at Meera’s insides, the Disciple catches our gaze and winks wearily. “No… Shadow,” she wheezes.
“What’s that?” Juni roars.
“No… Shadow,” Meera repeats. “When I die… I’m finished… and so… are you.”
Juni’s face freezes. She catches on to Meera’s plan a second too late. Her eyes widen with alarm as she tries to detach herself and dart to safety. But before she can, Meera explodes. She must have been working on the ball of energy since she realized she was beyond help. It bursts from her in a blazing flash of light, shatters her bones, incinerates her flesh—and rips through the mutated, twisted form that Juni built for herself when Death restored her soul to life.
Juni’s final howl is lost in the noise of the explosion. She’s torn to shreds along with Meera, and both women fall to the ground in ragged, bloody, lifeless chunks, their souls freed or lost, however you choose to look at it. Meera has gone to the great beyond, which is a sickening blow. But I experience a burst of joy as well as sorrow, because Juni Swan has perished too, and this time no power in the universe can bring the vindictive harpy back. We’re rid of her at last!
CASUALTIES OF WAR
IT sounds like the entire universe is screaming. Dervish and Grubbs wail for Meera. In the air, Lord Loss bellows Juni’s name and reaches out to her with a couple of his arms, offering Bec a brief respite. The demon hordes screech with delight, the scent of human death like a red rag to a bull. They press even tighter around us, each wanting to be next to claim a soul.
I drown out the screams and focus on the window. It’s all that matters now. We have seconds to get the hell out of here, or we’ll wind up like Meera. No time for misery or joy. Just focus, work fast, and pray.
A werewolf is slaughtered and collides with me as it thrashes in its death throes, opening a new, deep cut down the side of my head, just behind my left ear. I shrug it off and concentrate.
Kirilli leaps high into the air, raining handfuls of bones down upon the demons. He must have picked them up from the floor of the battlefield. They strike like shrapnel, blinding, wounding, killing. He roars with delight—then shrieks as a demon’s jaws flash and his right foot is bitten off at the ankle. Kirilli collapses. His foot drops on top of me and I head it away like a football, never pausing, right hand moving mechanically, fending off demons with my damaged left hand.
Grubbs head-butts a demon and smashes its skull to pieces. His forehead comes out drenched in brains and foul-smelling fluid. Extending his tongue, he licks his eyes clean and fights on, laughing through his tears.
Lord Loss and Bec crash to earth, then rise again. They’re still struggling with each other, but he doesn’t seem to be inflicting as much damage. His hands move lazily, more like they’re caressing Bec than savaging her. And she doesn’t react as violently as before. She wriggles less frantically in his embrace, almost as if…
