Gallows at Twilight

by William Hussey

  ‘Keep your wits about you,’ Adam called.

  Jake could only nod. He followed Dr Holmwood to the stairs and they began their descent into the bowels of the tower. From some distant part of the building came the crash of tumbling walls.

  ‘Is it safe here?’ Jake asked.

  ‘I should hardly think so.’ Holmwood took another cigarette from his pocket and lit up. ‘Nothing is safe any more.’

  They reached the basement. A long grey corridor stretched away into darkness. At the end of the hall, Holmwood flashed his torch against a large steel door:

  He swiped a keycard across a panel on the wall and the door swung back.

  ‘Welcome, Jacob, to the room in which you were born.’

  Jake stepped inside the musty laboratory. Head reeling, he walked around in a daze. He reached out to touch one of the high-tech pieces of machinery only to flinch away at the last moment, as if shocked. This was where the great experiment of Claire and Adam Harker had been conceived. Within these four walls, Jake had been assembled from the genetic material of Josiah Hobarron, a dead man.

  ‘I wasn’t born here,’ Jake said. ‘This was where I was made.’

  ‘You could look at it that way, I suppose,’ Holmwood mused. ‘But I didn’t bring you here to talk about the past. You wanted to know how Dr Saxby and I survived? We locked ourselves inside this laboratory. It once housed our most precious secret—our grand Hobarron Weapon—and so it was built to withstand hurricanes and earthquakes. Not only that, but powerful magical charms protected these walls. When the universal coven descended, this was the only safe place in which to shelter.’

  ‘What about the others? You left them to die.’

  ‘I couldn’t save them,’ Holmwood snapped. Then, in a quieter voice, ‘There was no time … I heard their screams, Jake. I heard … ’

  The old doctor sat down on the corner of a dustsheet-covered desk.

  ‘Whatever you think of me, you must listen to what I have to say.’ Lemon-coloured lips dragged at the cigarette. ‘The Elders of Hobarron have existed for over three hundred years, but I tell you now, we have never faced an enemy like this. The most evil being in creation—the father of all demons—now exists in the body of a powerful sorcerer. Unless he is stopped, he will use the combined magic of this universal coven to open a second Door into the demon dimension. There is only one person now who can stand against him—you.’

  ‘But you said yourself, my powers are weak.’

  ‘You will find them again.’

  ‘I can’t. I’ve tried.’

  ‘You haven’t been looking in the right place.’

  Holmwood opened a drawer in the desk. He reached inside and withdrew a glass ball that shimmered green in the torchlight. At the sight of the orb, voices rang in Jake’s head: a cacophony of cries, both hideous and beautiful.

  ‘You’ve seen something like this before.’

  ‘My mum. She used a ball like that to ward off Tobias Quilp.’

  ‘No. Go further back. Tell me what this is.’

  Jake screwed up his eyes. Tried to remember. And then it hit him—he had seen the orb in his dreams of the Witchfinder …

  ‘Josiah Hobarron’s witch ball.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Holmwood gave a serpentine grin. ‘In some of the old stories and legends of the Witchfinder this was the source of Josiah’s powers. Other tales tell of different objects—chalices and swords—but most agree that the witch ball at least inspired his magic. It gave fuel to the fire of his sorcery.’

  ‘But Quilp said that the witch ball had been lost many years ago,’ Jake argued.

  ‘So it was. This is just a replica. We had many such orbs made for defence purposes. Your mother used hers on the night she was killed. The real witch ball hasn’t been seen since Josiah Hobarron’s death.’

  ‘He lost it,’ Jake said slowly. ‘When the freezing spell he used on the Door backfired he tried to make it out of the cave. That was when he lost the witch ball. I saw it in my dreams—it rolled away into the shadows of Crowden’s Sorrow.’

  Holmwood leapt to his feet. ‘Excellent. Then my plan will work.’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘You know a lot about myths and legends, don’t you, Jake? Then tell me—have you ever heard of the Khepra Beetle?’

  ‘That’s enough!’

  Adam staggered into the laboratory. His face contorted with fury, he pointed a shaking finger at his old boss.

  ‘You will not use my son in this way, do you understand?’

  ‘It’s for the greater good, Adam.’

  ‘That old excuse again! No, Gordon, I won’t allow it. Come on, Jake, we’re leaving.’

  ‘But, Dad, listen—this might be the only way to stop the Demon Father and get to Quilp.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, move!’

  Jake stormed out of the room. Holmwood brushed past Adam, who shuffled along as best he could. Jake had reached the reception area when Holmwood caught up with him.

  ‘Listen to me,’ the doctor panted. ‘Your father doesn’t see the big picture. His love for you blinds his rational mind. If we are to have a chance against the Demon Father you must take the Scarab Path. You want to avenge yourself on Quilp? You want to find that powerful Oldcraft magic so that you can destroy him?’

  ‘More than anything, but my dad … ’

  Adam’s shadow loomed in the stairwell.

  ‘Jake?’ he called. ‘Are you there?’

  ‘Listen to that voice.’ Holmwood grasped Jake’s shirt and pulled him close. ‘That is the voice of a dying man. How much longer has he got, eh? I know you’ve been searching for a cure. Well, hear this—the witch ball is that cure. You could use the phenomenal magic contained in the orb to make your father well again! You could use its power to torture Quilp in a thousand different ways! All you ever wanted can be yours, but only if you take the Scarab Path. I’ll be waiting for your call.’ Holmwood glanced over his shoulder. Frail and grey, Adam staggered up the last few steps. ‘Better not leave it too late, Jacob.’

  ‘What is the Khepra Beetle?’ Jake demanded. ‘What’s the Scarab Path?’

  Adam banged down his fist on the desk.

  ‘Suicide. That’s what it is.’

  By the time they had returned from the Institute it was early afternoon and the monstrous guests of the Grimoire Club were stirring. Razor, the Cynocephalus doorman, had hurried them down the corridor and into the safety of their apartment. After saying goodbye to Eddie Rice, neither Rachel nor the Harkers had spoken a word on the way home. Still wrapped up in their own thoughts, they had entered the lounge.

  Simon, who had been sitting on the sofa nursing his scorched ribs, shot to his feet. He and Jake exchanged glances. It seemed to take a lot of effort for Simon to look at Rachel, and he soon lowered his gaze again.

  ‘Hello,’ he murmured. ‘I-I just wanted to say: last night, I…’

  Jake hadn’t wanted to hear it. He had followed his father into the study and slammed the door behind them. That was when the argument started.

  ‘That’s not an answer!’ Jake exploded. ‘Dr Holmwood said that only Josiah’s witch ball can defeat the Demon Father. To get it we need to use the Khepra Beetle.’

  ‘Holmwood’s wrong. In any case, the beetle is highly dangerous. I know of only one case in which it’s been used successfully. And even then, the man who took the Scarab Path came back changed. Horribly changed.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Adam dropped into the chair behind the desk.

  ‘Jake, the Khepra Beetle is old, old magic. Powerful beyond anything known to Man. It goes back to ancient times—before the Romans and the Greeks, perhaps even before the Egyptians themselves.’

  ‘Khepra,’ Jake mused. ‘I thought I’d heard that name before. Wasn’t he a god or something?’

  ‘An Egyptian sun god,’ Adam confirmed. ‘He was a deity of resurrection and renewal. As the bringer of the new day, he has seen every
dawn since the birth of the world. It is said that Khepra controls the very corridors of Time.’

  Dimly, Jake began to see the shape of Dr Holmwood’s plan. He leaned over the desk and locked eyes with his father.

  ‘It’s worth a try.’

  ‘You don’t understand. This thing … Some legends say that only the Never Seen have the skill to use it properly; that in truth it comes from their celestial halls, and was crafted long before the time of the ancient Egyptians. Perhaps before Time itself had fully unfurled throughout the galaxy … Jake?’

  At his father’s words, a sudden darkness had clouded Jake’s mind. He thought he was going to faint, but managed to stumble to a chair. He heard Adam moving about and felt a glass of water press against his lips.

  ‘Drink.’

  Jake took several choking gulps.

  ‘I’m all right,’ he spluttered. ‘It’s just the heat.’

  Adam fell back into his chair.

  ‘The beetle is not an option, Jake. End of story.’

  ‘If it helps me get the witch ball—’

  ‘I said “no”.’

  ‘So I’m just supposed to sit back and let Quilp go free? That thing murdered my mum—your wife!’

  ‘And you want to kill him, do you? You think that will make you feel better?’

  ‘When he was in the cells, when he was being tortured by the Elders, I didn’t have to think about him,’ Jake said quietly. ‘He was paying for his crime, getting what he deserved. Justice.’

  ‘Torture isn’t justice, Jake; you know that.’

  The truth of his father’s words stung Jake. ‘I’m going after him whether you like it or not,’ he said. ‘And I’m going to make him suffer, just like Mum suffered.’

  Adam sighed and shook his head. ‘When you grow up, you’ll understand that revenge is never the answer. It just brings more pain, more heartache.’

  ‘When I grow up? I’m sixteen years old!’

  ‘Yes. Just a child.’

  ‘I’ve saved the world! I stood against Marcus Crowden and I beat him. Could a child have done that?’

  Adam didn’t answer.

  ‘So what are we going to do, eh?’ Jake continued. ‘Wait around for the Demon Father to pick us off, one by one? Wait until he has opened another Door and demonkind has enslaved the planet?’

  ‘I’m working on it,’ Adam murmured. ‘I just need more time.’

  ‘You haven’t got any more time, Dad,’ Jake blurted out. ‘You’re dying!’

  Long seconds of painful silence followed.

  ‘Who told you?’ Adam rasped.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Jake said, not wanting to betray Pandora’s trust. ‘Tell me honestly—how much longer have you got?’

  ‘A few weeks. Maybe less.’ The answer came without hesitation. ‘And I don’t want to spend the time I have left mourning my son.’

  ‘The witch ball could save you. I could bring it back. I could—’

  ‘You just told me you’re not a child.’ Adam held his son’s gaze. ‘But children never want to let go. They hold on with all their might to the things they love and refuse to face what can’t be changed. If you want be a man, Jake, if you truly want to grow up, you need to understand that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is to say goodbye.’

  ‘No.’ Jake fought back the tears. ‘No, I won’t ever say goodbye to you, Dad. Not ever.’

  Chapter 14

  The Scarab Path

  His father’s plea for him not to meddle with the Khepra Beetle had shaken Jake’s determination. Before he decided what he was going to do, he wanted to talk it over with a friend. There was no sign of Pandora in the apartment and so, reluctantly, he went in search of Rachel. Usually she would be the first person he would go to but, after her encounter with Dr Saxby that morning, Jake had figured that she needed some time alone. Well, he wouldn’t intrude for too long.

  He was at her bedroom door when the voices brought him up short.

  ‘I heard her again last night. My mother. She spoke to me in my sleep, she said that I would be punished. Why would she want to punish her own son, unless I had killed her?’

  It was Simon, talking like a lost child.

  ‘They were just dreams. They can’t hurt you, Simon.’

  ‘I killed her, Rachel. I know it. And last night I almost killed you.’

  ‘It was just a scratch. Nothing.’

  ‘If Jake hadn’t been there … ’

  ‘You wouldn’t have hurt me. Not seriously. You couldn’t.’

  ‘Couldn’t I? The human half of me is weak, but the demon half is strong. Master Crowden was right: he called me “evil incarnate".’

  ‘Simon, listen to me—this whole thing—the story about your mother’s death, your childhood, your demon half: none of it makes sense.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your past, it’s like a story. A fairytale. It isn’t true.’

  ‘But you’ve seen what I am. The monster.’

  ‘But I don’t believe in that monster. Something about it isn’t real. Look, I don’t really know how to explain what I mean, but I know this—you’re a good person, Simon.’

  ‘No. There’s no good in me. Just violence and hate.’

  ‘I don’t believe that. I know you. I … ’

  Jake pushed against the door. It swung silently open. Two figures were sitting on the bed, hands touching, eyes locked.

  ‘I love you.’

  Their lips met, and Jake felt the world darken around him. The sting of his best friend’s betrayal poisoned his thoughts. He began to see the history of the past few weeks in a twisted new light: all that time Rachel and Simon had spent alone together, practising ‘control techniques’; all those little chats Jake had shared with his best friend, in which the back-stabber had played the part of older brother dispensing wisdom. Jake remembered that conversation on the roof terrace, the day after Simon’s rescue:

  ‘I’ve been thinking of asking her out. You know—on a date.’

  ‘You should … She’s a great girl.’

  Now the betrayer, the Judas, opened his eyes and saw Jake watching them.

  A dark blue light tingled at the tips of Jake’s fingers. It was all he could do not to hurl the hex. Rachel followed Simon’s gaze—

  ‘Oh, no. Jake, please wait. Listen—’

  But Jake didn’t want to listen.

  He ran.

  Ran along the empty corridor of the Grimoire Club. Burst through the open door and into blazing sunlight. Tore across the desert-dusted square and into the coolness beneath the columns.

  He had not heard any following footsteps, but as he reached the teardrop doorway a hand grasped his shoulder.

  Magic crackled in his fist. He spun round.

  Simon looked at the flaming hex and stepped back, arms spread wide.

  ‘If it will make you feel better.’

  Jake stared through a haze of tears. The flame roared. Why not do it? Why not share with his ‘friend’ a little of the hurt he felt? Jake thrust out his hand …

  And then he caught sight of the fountain that stood in the square. The fountain shaped like a silver chalice, dazzling in the sunlight. The sound of water whispered in his ear and the hex vanished from Jake’s fingers.

  ‘You love her?’

  ‘I didn’t know how to tell you.’

  ‘And she feels the same way.’ Jake’s voice cracked as the kiss replayed in his mind. ‘Yeah, right, course she does.’

  Simon reached for him, but Jake stepped back.

  ‘Mate, honestly, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’ve been like a brother to me, I just—’

  ‘Doesn’t matter about me. But if you ever hurt her, monster—’ Jake’s lip curled over the word, ‘I’ll come back and I’ll hunt you down. Do you understand? I won’t show you any mercy.’

  ‘You won’t need to.’ Simon bowed his head. ‘If I ever hurt her, I would kill myself in the next breath.’

  Jake gave a curt nod
and turned back to the doorway.

  ‘Please, Jake, can’t we talk? You’re breaking my heart. Can’t we just—’

  ‘No. Goodbye, Simon.’

  With that, Jake threw himself into the darkness.

  ‘He’s just left the Grimoire. He’s coming to you, I know it. Please, Gordon, don’t put him on the Scarab Path. He’s hurt, confused, angry; he doesn’t know what he’s doing. For the sake of all those years we worked together, I’m asking you— begging you—don’t do this. He’s my boy. My son.’

  ‘He is not your son, Adam. He is, and always has been, the property of the Hobarron Institute.’ Dr Holmwood breathed cigarette smoke down the phone. ‘It was my money that gave you the resources to create him, and now I’m cashing in my investment.’

  A pause, filled only with the crackle of static.

  ‘What are you saying?’ Adam murmured. ‘He’s just a boy. A human being.’

  ‘He is an experiment, and a very successful one. “Jacob Harker” is just a label. This child is the “Hobarron Weapon”, and it is time that weapon was used again. Last night I waded through the blood of my friends and colleagues, Adam. I saw with my own eyes the power of this Demon Father. Whatever the cost, he must be stopped.’

  ‘Gordon, no—!’

  Dr Holmwood put down the receiver and reached into his desk drawer. He took the amulet from its hiding place.

  ‘Hello, my little friend,’ he whispered. ‘Are you ready to work your wonders?’

  The heavy metal door slammed shut behind Jake. He found himself blinking in the halogen glare of a state-of-the-art laboratory. Before his eyes fully adjusted to the light, he saw the lean shadow of Dr Holmwood bearing down on him.

  ‘Welcome, Jacob. I’m so glad you’ve come.’

  Jake managed a tight smile. He was already questioning the wisdom of coming back to the Hobarron Institute. After fleeing from his father and his ‘friends’, Jake had wasted no time in calling Dr Holmwood. A long black limousine (not unlike a hearse, Jake had thought grimly) had been sent to collect him. Now here he was, standing in one of the few unscathed buildings at the edges of the Institute’s property, ready to trust a man who only a few weeks ago had wanted to use him as a human sacrifice. Jake reckoned he must be losing his mind, but he supposed that this was the nature of war: to destroy enemies like Tobias Quilp you sometimes had to make difficult alliances. Deals with the devil, you might say.