Demon Apocalypse td-6

by Darren Shan

  Beranabus bounds over to where Kernel and I are waiting. He crouches beside us, beaming like a proud father whose wife has just given birth. “The prime rule of magic—anything is possible. It’s the first thing I teach my assistants, but when you’ve been doing it as long as I have, it’s easy to forget your own advice. Just because something hasn’t been done before, and just because the power involved is way beyond that of even the greatest demon master, doesn’t mean it can’t be done. Bec must have realised what she really was. She spent centuries preparing herself, waiting patiently…

  “Or maybe she only saw how to do it during the battle. Maybe you were the catalyst, Grubbs. Or Kernel. Though I don’t think so—he came last to the union, didn’t he? I don’t suppose it really matters. Maybe Bec can tell us, assuming she’s…” He stops. “Yes, she must be alive—I mean, her ghost must still be here. It has to be. At least, I suppose…” He trails off into silence again.

  “In your own time, Beranabus,” I mutter impatiently. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  He flashes me a crazy smile. “This is so extraordinary. Every time I think about it, I discover something new. We’ve taken an immense leap forwards—well, a leap backwards if you want to be pedantic. It’s like going from the first stone wheel to the first manned flight in the space of one incredible day, one amazing spell. This requires years of study and analysis. We have to figure out how the three of you did it, how to control the power, what else we can do. That will—”

  “I’m going to hit you if you don’t stop babbling,” I warn him. “Tell us what you know—or what you guess,” I add quickly as he opens his mouth to start telling me he doesn’t know anything really.

  “I know you’re in the dark, I know you want answers, just as much as I do. But…” He stops, focuses, takes a deep breath. “You asked me a question once, Kernel. It’s a question most Disciples have asked, normally not long after I’ve told them that with magic anything is possible. Can you remember what it was?”

  “I’m in no mood to solve riddles,” Kernel sighs. “I just want my eyes back. Can you do that for me?”

  “Not now,” Beranabus huffs, waving the question away. “Think, boy. You were telling me about your early life, the night you created your first window and stepped into the universe of the Demonata. You said all your troubles started then, that if you could go back and stop yourself, everything would be fine. You asked me if—”

  “No!” Kernel grunts. “It can’t be.”

  “That’s what I thought at first,” Beranabus chuckles.

  “But you said we couldn’t!” Kernel protests.

  “And I was right. Nobody ever had, and I didn’t think anyone could. But now we have. You, Bec and Grubbs did it. You broke the final barrier. I never thought it could happen. I gave up on the notion long, long ago. When you’ve seen as much of—”

  “What is it?” I cut in sharply, furious with ignorance. “What’s the big secret? What question did Kernel ask?”

  “The one they all ask eventually,” Beranabus smiles. “The one you would have put to me if you’d been with me a little longer, when you looked back on all the times you went wrong, wondered how things would have turned out if you’d done this or that differently, gone down one path instead of another.”

  Beranabus stops, glances up at the trees and the moon beyond, as if to reconfirm it before saying it out loud. When he looks at me again, the smile’s still there, but shaky, as if he’s not sure whether he should be smiling or not. And he says, very softly, “Kernel asked me if it was possible to travel back in time.”

  A shocked moment of incredulous silence. Then I laugh. “Good one. You almost had me going. Now quit with the jokes and—”

  “This isn’t a joke,” Beranabus says.

  “You’re trying to tell me we’ve returned to the past, like in some bad science-fiction film?”

  “No,” Kernel giggles, then hits me with the punchline. “Like in some very good science-fiction film.”

  “Don’t,” I mutter. “Things are mad enough without you two veering off at some ludicrous angle. We need to think about this logically, go through what happened step by step, so we can understand. Wild speculation won’t get us anywhere.”

  “It’s not wild,” Beranabus says. “And it’s not speculation. It’s fact.”

  “I don’t accept that. You’re wrong.”

  “How else can you explain this?” He points to the hole, the rocks, the trees.

  “It’s an illusion. Our minds have conjured it up or Bec fed the image to us to spare us the real, grisly truth. It happened to me before, in Slawter. Maybe we’re lying by the cave entrance, unconscious, demons ravaging our bodies, and this is our only way out of the pain. Or we’ve gone into the universe of the Demonata and created this scene ourselves. Hell, maybe we’re dead and this is what we’ve chosen for the afterlife.”

  “We’re not dead,” Kernel says. “And we’re not imagining this. I’d have given myself eyes if we were.”

  “Time travel’s impossible,” I say slowly, as if explaining something obvious to a young child.

  “So is flying,” Beranabus says, “but you’ve soared like a bird.”

  “That’s different,” I snap. “What you’re talking about…” I shake my head.

  “How did it happen?” Kernel asks. “I believe you, Beranabus—at least I think I do but how? You always said the past was the one thing we could never change.”

  “It is. I mean, it was. Demons can’t do it. Magicians certainly can’t. But the Kah-Gash…”

  Kernel draws his breath in sharply. “Are you sure?”

  “It has to be,” Beranabus insists. “The ultimate power… the ability to destroy an entire universe… Why not the potential to reverse time too?”

  “But if you’re right, that means…”

  “Grubbs and Bec were the missing pieces. And there must have only been three. It couldn’t have worked unless all the pieces were assembled. At least I don’t think it could…” He frowns.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I hiss. “What’s a Car Gash?”

  “Kah-Gash,” Kernel corrects me. He’s trembling, but not from the pain or cold. “It’s a mythical weapon. You’re meant to be able to destroy a universe with it, ours or the Demonata’s. It was split into an unknown number of pieces millions or billions of years ago. Various demons and magicians have searched for it since then, without success. Thirty years ago we discovered one of the pieces. In me.”

  “You’d been implanted with something?”

  “No. I am a piece of the Kah-Gash.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you be part of a weapon? You’re human.”

  “I’m magical,” he disagrees. “The Kah-Gash is a weapon of magic, not physics. It can take the form of anything it chooses.”

  I think that through, putting it together with what they were saying a few minutes ago. “You believe Bec and I are part of this weapon too?”

  “You have to be,” Beranabus says. “The stars don’t lie—we’ve gone back in time, to the night the tunnel was reopened. You three did it. We saw it happening. No force in either universe could have accomplished that, except the Kah-Gash.”

  “How?” Kernel whispers. “And why? If this is the work of the Kah-Gash, where did it find the energy to alter the flow of time? And why bring us back to this specific moment? Why stop here, not a hundred years ago or a million? Why not shatter the laws of time entirely?”

  Beranabus scratches the back of his neck. “What did you feel when it was happening?” he asks.

  Kernel shrugs. “Great power flowing into me.”

  “From where?”

  “All around.”

  “Grubbs? Can you be any more specific?”

  “The ground,” I mutter. “The power came from the rocks, from beneath.”

  “And did it flow into you or through you?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “You’d have exploded if y
ou drew in that much energy and didn’t let it out,” Beranabus says. “You had to channel the magic. But where to? The demons? The sky? Where?”

  “The cave,” Kernel answers after several seconds of thoughtful silence. “The power came from the ground, then went through us, back down into the rock, to the cave… the tunnel.”

  “Yes,” I agree, thinking back.

  Beranabus smiles. “The Kah-Gash—you, Kernel and Bec—acted as a kind of magnifying lens. You drew energy from the tunnel, then focused it back.” He goes to stroke his beard, realises he doesn’t have one and taps his chin instead. “I can’t be sure—maybe I never will be—but this is how I think it worked.

  “Opening a window between the Demonata’s universe and ours is like making a hole in a dam— matter flows from their universe to ours, generating energy. Space, time, gravity, the forces which hold our universes together… they seep across every time a demon or one of us makes a rip.

  “Windows are small, temporary. The energy generated is minimal. But in this case a tunnel was created, open twenty-four hours a day. A huge river of magic flowed through. You three tapped into that. No… you must have done more than tap into it. You…” He clicks his fingers. “You rode it! It was like a wave of energy. You caught the wave and rode it back to its source, converting and channelling it at the same time.”

  “Rode it back to its source?” Kernel echoes. “You mean back to the universe of the Demonata?”

  “No,” Beranabus says. “You followed the wave back in time, transforming it and eradicating it, back to when the tunnel was created.” He looks at me, his eyes bright with excitement. “This is the night of the full moon. The night Lord Loss returned to Carcery Vale. The Kah-Gash brought us back in time to the night when the tunnel was reactivated, so that we could prevent it ever being opened in the first place!”

  He seizes my hands and squeezes tight. “Don’t you see? We’ve been given a second chance. Not just to heal the damage done by the demons, but to stop it happening at all.”

  “But… no… it can’t…” I mutter, head spinning.

  “Grubbs,” Beranabus says softly. “At this time, Dervish and your brother are still alive. We can help them, but only if we accept this and act fast. Now, are you going to stand there denying what your senses tell you, or are you going to help me save the world and all the people you love?”

  And when he puts it like that…

  TIMELY INTERVENTION

  Beranabus has entered the hole, but only advanced to the point where it widens into the shaft. He’s squatting there, eyes closed, sensing the cave beneath, determining exactly who and what we have to fight.

  I wish we’d travelled back another few days. We could have called on the Disciples for support. But Beranabus said we couldn’t have come back any further. Because we were riding the wave of energy generated by the opening of the tunnel, we could only follow it back to its origin. He likened it to coming to the end of a train line—when you run out of track, that’s it, end of ride.

  There’s been no sign of Bec. I’ve kept a close eye on the rocks and listened for her strange whispers, but she hasn’t shown. I know Beranabus is concerned for her. He thinks she might have perished to help send us back, sacrificed herself for our sake. I don’t see the big deal if she did—she was dead already!—but I don’t say that to Beranabus. That girl seems to be the one person in the world he gives a damn about. I doubt he’d appreciate wisecracks at her expense.

  Kernel is walking around, hands by his sides, trying to navigate like a bat. Only instead of emitting radar beams (or whatever bats emit), he sends out magical impulses, which bounce back, letting him know what’s around him. At least that’s the theory—but with all the trees he’s crashed into during the last few minutes, I’m not sure it works.

  “Ouch!” Kernel bumps into another low-hanging branch and steps back, rubbing his head.

  “Why don’t you give it a rest?” I snap. “You’ll poke—”

  I brake to a halt. I’d been about to say he’d poke an eye out if he wasn’t careful, but I guess it’s a bit late for warnings like that.

  “I have to learn,” Kernel mutters. “Beranabus needs me. There are demons to kill.”

  I walk over to him, take his left arm and gently guide him clear of the trees. His courage fills me with awe and shame. Sure, I found the guts to pitch in when there was no other option, but this is bravery of a different kind. He’s just lost his eyes, yet here he is, determined to carry on fighting. In his shoes I’d be moaning like a baby, full of self-pity, seizing the opportunity to take a back seat and keep out of trouble.

  “I’ll direct you,” I promise. “I’ll be your eyes in the cave. Focus on your magic. I’ll tell you where to aim it when the time’s right.”

  “Thanks,” he says, smiling faintly. “But I might as well practise while we’re waiting. It can’t hurt and it keeps my mind off what’s happened. Besides, I think I’m getting the hang of it now.” Prising himself free, he starts walking again, arms rigid, face composed, senses alert.

  “Ouch!”

  Scrabbling sounds. Beranabus emerges, brushing dirt and small stones off his unprotected skin. He doesn’t look too worried—happy even, in a guarded kind of way. “It’s better than I dared hope,” he says. “Lord Loss and Juni are there, some of his familiars—the three we encountered on the plane—and Dervish and Bill-E. But that’s all, unless others are masking their presence, which is unlikely. I think we only have five enemies to deal with.” He makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “Or seven.”

  “Meaning what?” I snap.

  “We don’t know where Dervish and Bill-E stand.”

  “Of course we do,” I retort. “They’re on our side.”

  “Probably. But we mustn’t count on it. We don’t know how far into their minds Juni wormed herself. If they’ve fallen under her spell, they might be acting on the demon master’s behalf.”

  “Never,” I growl.

  Beranabus shrugs. “I won’t argue. Just be aware of the threat. I’m not saying we go down there and blow their heads off. But we might have to knock them about a bit.”

  “I know Dervish and Bill-E,” I say tightly. “They wouldn’t betray us, no matter how strong the spell.”

  “Don’t be naive,” Beranabus barks, then calls Kernel in close. “Will you be all right down there or are you just going to get in our way?”

  I think it’s hugely insensitive of him to speak to his blind assistant like that, but Kernel only smiles. “I’ll be fine. Grubbs will give me a helpful shove in the right direction. I can’t do much, but I can make a nuisance of myself.”

  “As long as you’re a nuisance for them, not us,” Beranabus grunts, then lowers his voice. “Let’s not get overly confident. There might be only five of them, but they’re a deadly quintet. Lord Loss is more powerful than any of us. Juni’s a match for Kernel even with eyes—she’s certainly stronger than him now. And the familiars are dangerous too. Let’s not forget we’re an old man, his blind assistant and a kid who could do anything under pressure.”

  “You sure know how to steady a guy’s nerves before a fight,” I note sarcastically.

  “I’m not here to make uplifting speeches,” Beranabus replies. “We have a good chance to win. The odds are far better than they were before. But we have to be sharp. We can’t afford any mistakes. We’ve been handed a second chance—there won’t be a third. We’ve seen what the consequences are if we lose. So let’s stay focused and give it the very best we have. And remember, if we lose, we die, and everybody else in the world will too.”

  He starts to rise, then stops. “I almost forgot the most important point.” He chuckles at himself. “I’m too old and senile to protect the world any longer. If we get through this, it’ll be time to invest in a pair of slippers and find some quiet corner of the globe where I can…”

  He coughs. “Sorry. Lost my train of thought. What was I saying?”

  “The most importa
nt point,” Kernel reminds him patiently.

  “Aye. The key.” He taps the ground to signify the importance of his next few words. “I explained earlier how the tunnel was opened. One of Lord Loss’s human allies made a sacrifice in the cave and now has to join with the rock, to create the opening. Unless there’s somebody down there I don’t know about, that person—the key—must be the woman who calls herself Juni Swan.”

  “Couldn’t it be Artery or one of the other familiars?” I ask.

  “No. It has to be a human. Those are the rules.”

  “Rules can change,” Kernel says. “According to Bec, you were wrong about the demons being sucked back to their own universe if the tunnel was closed again.”

  “Aye,” Beranabus growls irritably, “but she didn’t mention anything about this rule changing. Besides, we saw Lord Loss and his familiars during the fight. Juni’s the only one who wasn’t present.”

  “It could be Dervish or the boy,” Kernel suggests.

  I stiffen, but before I can respond, Beranabus says, “No. If they’re under the woman’s spell, they only succumbed recently. Lord Loss planned to open the tunnel during the night of the previous full moon. That means the sacrifice had been made some weeks before. Dervish and the boy were definitely in control of their senses then. So it has to be Juni. She’s our primary target. If we kill her, we win.”

  “Can’t Lord Loss use another human instead?” I ask.

  “No. Only the one who made the sacrifice can serve as the key. He could try again later and get someone else to make another sacrifice. But if we beat him tonight, we’ll take steps to ensure he never has that option.

  “Juni’s the one we go for. Her companions will do everything they can to protect her. We’ll have to fight them, but we mustn’t let them distract us. Juni is the target. The others don’t matter.

  “So, you know what we have to do? Are you ready for one more battle, the most important ever? Are you primed to go boldly into the breach and grind these demons into the dirt?” He grabs my right hand and Kernel’s left. “Are you with me, boys, all the way to the glorious, victorious end?”