The Infernal Aether Box Set: All Four Books In The Series

by Peter Oxley

  “Yes,” said Maxwell. “But then, you are thinking like a human rather than a demon. To him, the concept of a monarch may well be completely irrelevant; or maybe Andras derives some perverse pleasure in ‘cocking a snook’ at her.”

  “Or she’s in on it as well,” muttered Kate.

  “Unlike others, I choose to believe in the inviolability of the monarch,” said Maxwell stiffly.

  Kate glanced at me. “He does not believe so,” I translated, and she nodded her thanks.

  We fell silent as we reached the park, the darkness of the open space seeming even more oppressive than the narrow, winding streets. As we picked our way across the grass, I was struck by the parallels between what we were currently experiencing and our first encounter with N’yotsu and Andras, all those months ago. Would that this adventure ended as successfully I thought, and gripped my sword tighter.

  In the dark stillness I found that all of my senses were heightened as I examined all around us for anything out of the ordinary. A shuffling sound from ahead made me pause and I held up a hand for the others to stop. We stood there, listening and holding our breaths, every inch of our bodies in a state of anticipatory tension.

  I heard it again, the sound of something slinking through the grass toward us from just ahead, and the padding of feline feet upon the soft ground. A shape emerged out of the gloom, a low and lean form with eyes which flashed as red as fire and teeth which shone a sickly yellow in the moonlight. It growled, a low, deep rumbling noise which echoed around us, taken up by three others which materialised from the shadows next to their fellow, regarding us with seething intent, four coiled springs waiting to pounce and devour us. Instinctively we huddled together back-to-back, each of us forming the side of a triangle.

  I looked around slowly with sword raised, both hands gripping the hilt tightly. I blinked and remembered Freddie’s words from those painful fencing lessons aboard The Old Lady. “Don’t grip it, just hold it,” his voice echoed back to me from across the years. “Hold it gently, like it were fine china. The reason I was able to best you so easily was because you had a grip like a vice. Hold the sword loosely and you will be able to move your wrist and arm more flexibly—all the better for striking and dodging and striking again. That which is rigid can be thrust aside or broken. Keep your grip loose, and your fighting will be all the better for it.”

  Heeding those old words I relaxed my grip and wrist and swung my sword loosely from side to side, feeling it become an extension of my arm rather than a mere weapon. Taking a deep breath, I felt the old exultation return and grinned. “Are your pistols loaded?”

  “Yep,” said Kate, breathing quick and fast as she stood stock-still at my side. “What now?”

  “Pick your targets well and fire on my count. Use the smooth-bore first—it will cause the most damage and your first shot is likely to be your most accurate.” I heard them pull back the hammers by two clicks, priming the central barrels of their weapons. “Whatever happens, we stay together—do not run or they will cut you down.” I turned my head slightly to my left. “Max, how are you?”

  “Never better,” he said in a tremulous voice.

  “We are going to survive this,” I said, with an air of certainty which almost convinced myself. “One... two...”

  I bellowed the word: “Three!” and simultaneously stamped my right foot on the ground, hoping that this would either worry or confuse the beasts; they instead reacted by snarling and then leaping at us, those terrifying teeth and eyes flashing brightly in the moonlight. I lunged with my sword at the body of the nearest creature and was rewarded with the slightest glimmer of resistance followed by a yelp as it wheeled away, trailing a trickle of dark blood in its wake.

  The night lit up with the flashes of gunfire from either side of me, as Kate and Maxwell fired at the beasts in front of them. Their efforts were greeted with squeals of pain and anger from our adversaries, which formed a rather satisfactory background noise to my own private battle. My initial attacks had shown the two beasts which faced me that I could hurt them and so they hung back, occasionally darting forwards to test my reactions but otherwise keeping just outside of my reach. I fought the urge to leave Maxwell and Kate and charge forward, knowing that this was just what the creatures wanted me to do. Instead, I kept the sword poised but tried to minimise the amount of movement I made with it, lest it become too hot for me to wield.

  First Maxwell and then Kate stopped firing, their chambers empty, and I widened my swing to cover them whilst they reloaded. “We need to move,” shouted Maxwell. “At this rate we will not last longer than a few more minutes.”

  I nodded. Whether it was due to the inaccuracy of their firing or the sturdiness of the beasts, it was certainly true that we did not seem to have made any substantive impact on them, save for making them a bit more wary of attacking us. Their murderous intent was still abundantly clear, though, and I knew that they were waiting for us to tire or run out of ammunition—or both—so that they could cut us down. Indeed, it appeared that a couple had noted the dying down of our gunfire and took the opportunity to slink closer; thankfully, Kate had the presence of mind to snap the chamber of her pistol shut and fire a couple of shots at them, dissuading the beasts from their attack, for the time being at least.

  “Retreat,” I said. “Maybe they will not follow us into the streets.”

  The silence from the others was sufficient to show that they doubted my logic at least as much as I did; nevertheless, it was the only plan we had and so we started to shuffle back the way we had come, Kate and Maxwell firing the occasional shot to clear our way whilst I held up the rear with my rapidly warming sword.

  As we moved, the beasts increased the frequency of their attacks, no doubt spotting the potential for creating weaknesses in our defences. I was forced to swing my sword more and more vigorously to fend them off, and was rewarded with a sharp stab of heat from the hilt. I gritted my teeth and let out a strangled yell; if I were to drop the sword or even abate my swinging for just a second, the beasts would be upon us in a flash. For a few long moments my world condensed down to one point of focus, the pain so intense that I felt as though my whole hand and arm were aflame.

  Then the strangest thing happened. I glanced down at my hand to see the red hot runic symbols float up from the sword onto my hand and then up my wrist and arm. I blinked; surely this was just an hallucination brought on by the sheer pain I was experiencing, mixed with the fatigue and fear which my current situation was engendering. The intense pain exploded outwards, leaving behind it a sudden and unexpected clarity. The extent of this newfound lucidity was far beyond anything which I had experienced before, almost as though I had spent my life to that point staring at a brick wall which had suddenly been knocked down to reveal a whole world of splendour beyond.

  Except that what I now saw was anything but splendid, my enhanced senses cutting through the dark and mist to show me the full range of creatures which were gathered around us. Not only were there the beasts which we had been fighting to hold at bay, but also others, even more hideous. Wraith-like creatures which floated a few feet off the floor, trailing vomit-like wisps around spindly limbs, their faces empty caverns of hunger and hate. And then something which beat huge wings in the sky above them, like a flying mountain of venom which glared down at us with multi-faceted eyes.

  All of them stared at and through me and I found myself wondering how we ever had managed to survive thus far without being overrun by this army of nightmares.

  Entranced and down-hearted by what was before me, I involuntarily lowered my sword and, in that moment of weakness the beasts should have pounced and devoured us. Instead, and to my surprise, they took a step backwards, as one faltering in the face of my shocked gaze. I blinked, wondering what fresh torment was about to be inflicted upon us.

  “Down!” someone shouted and I felt myself being hauled to the ground as a volley of gunfire cracked and whistled over our heads. I looked up to see the cre
atures snarl in frustrated rage. The worst of them melted back into the night, leaving the dog-like beasts to face this new attack.

  “What?” I shouted.

  Kate was laughing next to me. “Redcoats!” she called back.

  I rolled over and chanced a look behind us. Sure enough, a company of infantrymen were formed up and firing with the brutal efficiency which was the bedrock of the great British Empire. Whilst I had no doubt that individual bullets would do little but irritate the beasts—our own efforts had amply demonstrated that fact—the sheer volume of lead which was being hurled them was enough to drive them back. I felt the reassuring warmth of the sword in my hand and realised that I maybe had the only weapon which could properly damage the beasts. Just as I was about to launch myself into battle, though, they backed away and then ran into the night.

  “Cease fire!” shouted a voice and then two men ran toward us, faces stained with gunpowder streaked with sweat. They hauled us unceremoniously to our feet and dragged us back to the relative safety of the lines of soldiers.

  “What in the name of all that’s holy were you bloody idiots doing out here?” barked a moustachioed man from atop a rather nervous-looking horse. “I have half a mind to just leave you out here to the mercies of those dogs—”

  “’Ello, Captain,” said Kate. “Long time, no see.”

  He blinked and then frowned. “Kate?” his tone softened considerably. “What are you...? Never mind. You’re coming with us. All of you. Sergeant, form up.”

  “May I ask where exactly you are taking us?” I asked.

  The nearest soldier to me nodded up toward Windsor Castle. “Up there, mate,” he grinned with blackened teeth.

  * * *

  Upon arrival at the castle we were held in the grounds whilst our persons were searched and our weapons confiscated. I felt a profound sense of loss as my sword was wrenched from me, although this was soon superseded by something much more unexpected as I witnessed Kate and the captain—who introduced himself by the name of Goodyear—reacquainted themselves with each other. The captain’s greeting was stilted and awkward but there was enough in their respective bearings to suggest that there was a past understanding of a rather intimate nature between them. Given her previous career as a prostitute, I had always known there would doubtless be many men in and around London who knew Kate better than through mere words and a casual handshake. Nonetheless, I found myself wrestling with what—if I did not know better—I would have referred to as jealousy.

  A harried and rather kindly-looking officer by the name of Lieutenant Pearce took our names and then disappeared out the door, no doubt to report to his superiors, whilst Maxwell and I stood around awkwardly and tried not to listen in on Kate and the captain’s stilted conversation.

  After a few minutes, the officer turned his attention to Maxwell and I. “The Potts brothers,” he said. “I have heard of you two. The inventor and the writer. So what, exactly, were you doing out there?”

  We looked at each other and cleared our throats. “We, ah, were investigating,” said Maxwell. “We needed to witness the phenomena which we had been told is plaguing the residents of this town.”

  “Why, exactly?”

  Fair question, I thought, but before either of us could answer, we were interrupted by Lieutenant Pearce re-entering the room. “Sir,” he said. “Our... guests... are required in the main house. Orders from the top.”

  The captain bristled but did not protest, retreating to a back office without a word. Lieutenant Pearce turned to us and gestured to the door. “Please come with me,” he said.

  As we followed him I cleared my throat. “Ah, when you say ‘the top’ do you mean the Queen?”

  “Not quite,” he said. “The Prime Minister.” He grinned sheepishly. “Of course, I would appreciate it if you did not repeat that in her presence.”

  “I would not dream of it,” I said as we entered the castle, passing from the cold into warm opulence. I almost felt ashamed to walk on the meticulously polished floor lest I scuff it as we passed wall after wall of portraits which glared down at me with an aloof disdain. We finally came to a halt outside a grand oak door and, after a sharp knock, the lieutenant led us inside.

  Seated at a large desk at the far end of a huge study was the grey and imposing figure of the Prime Minister, Earl Russell. He continued writing for a few moments after we had entered the room, no doubt for effect, and then squinted up at us. “Mr. Potts,” he said to me. “We meet again, although under much less... pleasant circumstances than before. I have not heard much of you since your rather abrupt fall from grace.” I flinched; he and I had had extensive contacts whilst I was editor of Life’s Uncertain Voyage and it still cut sharply to be reminded of what I had lost in that regard. He turned to look at my companions. “Maxwell Potts, you I have heard much about; my colleagues in the Royal Society spoke of you as quite the innovator at one time, although again you appear to have been rather elusive as of late. And I do not believe I have had the honour of meeting you, Madame.”

  “Kate Thatcher, sir,” she said with a slight curtsey. “I’m their accomplice.” I traded glances with Maxwell but we did not correct her on her self-elevation; in many ways, she was in fact more than our equal.

  He eyed her suspiciously. “Indeed. Well, gentlemen, you are only here by virtue of your reputation and our past acquaintance. I thought it important to question you myself, so I ask: what in God’s name were you doing out there?”

  “Investigating,” said Maxwell, staring straight into the Prime Minister’s eyes with admirable boldness. “We heard tell of the phenomena which occurred here and wished to witness it with our own eyes.”

  “And this thing?” Earl Russell asked, gesturing to Maxwell’s device, which was resting on his desk.

  Maxwell paused, clearly pondering whether to mislead the man, but then relented. “I call it an Aetheric Sensor. It allows me to identify when and where a disturbance in the Aether occurs.”

  “The Aether? Ah, yes; I read your thesis.” He touched a bundle of papers stacked neatly on the corner of his desk. “Interesting theory; do you truly think that this Aether of which you speak is a gateway to other worlds?”

  “It is not just a theory,” said Maxwell. “I have proven it more than twice, and—” He paused and frowned. “How did you get hold of that? It is a private paper, never published. It was not meant for anyone—”

  “We found it in your house,” said Earl Russell. “Or at least, what was left of it. I am intrigued to hear exactly what happened to said house, not to mention the detail of the experiments which you refer to in your... paper.” He looked up at us expectantly.

  Maxwell glanced back at Kate and me, his eyebrows raised in query. I shrugged in reply and glanced around the room at the soldiers standing guard; there was surely very little he could say which would make our situation any worse.

  “Very well,” he said. “If you have read my paper, then you would know about my discoveries in relation to the nature of the Aether, that it is more than simply a mere medium, as I first thought. During the course of my investigations I realised that it could instead be used to transmit words, and more.” He took a deep breath. “It all began when we met a man named N’yotsu...”

  Chapter 31

  I looked down from my horse at dirty, frightened faces as we made our way through the London streets. Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled at Kate as convincingly as I could muster; she nodded and raised her eyebrows, reflecting my uncertainty back at me. Around us, the soldiers stared impassively forwards, an implacable red host separating us from the surrounding tide of humanity.

  It had been a decidedly odd couple of days, and there still seemed to be no end in sight. Following our initial session with the Prime Minister, we had been ushered into separate rooms and interrogated by a series of increasingly exasperated officials about our activities over the past months. Eventually, sore of throat and more fatigued than I ever thought possible, I was escorted
to yet another room and confronted by a scene which I at first assumed was a mirage brought on by exhaustion: Maxwell and Kate seated at a long table laden with food.

  The door shut behind me and I blinked at them. “Is it over?” I said.

  “It would appear so,” said Maxwell, through a mouthful of food. “Sit down and eat—you must be famished.”

  I complied with gusto; it felt like an age since I had last been allowed anything more substantial than water. “So what did they ask you about?” I said through a mouthful of bread.

  “Probably same as you,” said Kate. “Gettin’ us to go over the same stories again and again, askin’ where’s N’yotsu, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Presumably the fact that we are here confirms that they finally believe that we speak the truth,” said Maxwell.

  “Maybe,” I said, buttering a piece of bread. “So the question is: what now?”

  In answer to my question, the door opened and in walked Earl Russell, accompanied by a group of Army officers. “Gentlemen, Madame,” he said, sitting at the top of the table and helping himself to a cup of tea. “I hope you are well.” We glared at him and he waved his hand in response. “I apologise for submitting you to questioning, but we had to be sure.”

  “Of what?” asked Kate, glowering at him.

  He ignored her. “In any case, I congratulate you; we have affirmed the truth of what you have been saying.”

  “We are so grateful,” I said drily.

  The Prime Minister eyed me coldly and then turned to Maxwell. “Mr. Potts, we have need of your particular knowledge and expertise. The Empire—nay, the world—is facing a threat greater than any it has ever before experienced, part of which you are already intimately familiar with.”