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

by Peter Oxley

  Unfortunately, our driver and his carriage had also joined the hasty exodus, prompting an angry rant from Maxwell. “That thieving, malignant, good-for-nothing...” he fumed. “I paid over the odds for him to take us to London and what does he do? He abandons us in the back-end of nowhere, days from our destination.”

  “Look,” said Kate. “I’m sure we could get someone to help us.”

  “Who?” Maxwell gestured around us. “You may not have noticed, but we’re hardly the most trusted people round here.”

  “Maybe I can help,” said a voice from behind us. We turned to see the old man from the night before, leaning on a cane. “I have some horses you could have. They’re not much, but with some careful riding they should get you where you need to go.”

  “Thank you,” said Maxwell, pulling out his purse and starting to count out coins.

  The old man held up his hand. “I do not want payment. You helped my girl; consider it a debt repaid.” He winked at me. “And besides, I think it’s important that you get to where you need to go. For the good of us all.”

  He led us to the stables at the rear of the tavern and pointed out two rather sickly-looking sorrel horses. “You can have those. They’re our remounts, but we’re less than a day from home so we’ll be fine.”

  Kate kissed the man on the cheek while I eyed the horses suspiciously. I was not convinced that the creatures would manage to make it out of the stables, let alone take us the couple of hundred miles we still had left to travel. I glanced at Maxwell, who clearly shared my concerns. “What do you think?” he asked me.

  “Better than the alternative. Anyway, as they say, never look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  “Indeed,” muttered Maxwell. “Their teeth would probably fall out.”

  * * *

  Maxwell and I took it in turns to share a horse with Kate, who was unaccustomed to riding. The beasts were in better health than we had initially given them credit for and, whilst we were loath to push them too hard, we were at least on the move once again.

  “So, these Redcoats that are going to help us save the day,” I said to Kate as she clung to me, shortly after one of our many rests and changes of passenger. “Any idea how we will find out whether they’re on our side before they imprison or kill us?”

  “I’ll use my womanly charms on them.” She squeezed her arms round my waist and I jumped slightly in spite of myself, blushing as she giggled in my ear. “Reckon that’ll work, don’t you?”

  The day passed uneventfully and before we knew it the lengthening shadows were turning to dusk. I brought my horse alongside Maxwell’s. “Bit of a problem,” I said. “Nowhere to shelter for the night.”

  He looked around. The last settlement was a good hour behind us and there was no sign of civilisation around or in front of us.

  “We press on,” he said. “There must be something on this road sooner or later.”

  “Hopefully sooner,” I said. “I really do not want to be out of doors once night falls.”

  He grunted and we pushed the horses into a trot, all of us tensing up at the thought of being caught in the darkness with whichever creatures haunted that area. My toes curled in the stirrups as I forced my weary mount to keep the pace.

  The sun dipped below the horizon to our right and then a howl in the distance made us jump. I let out a nervous laugh. “Just a fox,” I said.

  “I think I see something,” said Maxwell, pointing ahead of us at a squarish structure about a mile away.

  “Let’s hope so,” said Kate. “’Cause there’s something following us.” I turned to glance back. “I wouldn’t look if I were you,” she warned. “Just get us moving, fast.”

  Maxwell and I wordlessly kicked our horses into a gallop, or as close as they could manage. I caught a glimpse of something in the periphery of my vision, a palely glowing form with long, grasping appendages. I gritted my teeth, leant forward in the saddle and urged my horse a bit faster.

  Kate squeezed my waist in a tight grip as I drove us forward, grateful for the human contact in spite of the fact that it was less than comfortable. Maxwell pulled ahead of us, his horse less burdened than ours, and I focused my attention on his back. My world narrowed down to a tunnel of the wind rushing past my ears and the scenery whipping by in a blur of shadows and shapes. The pounding of hooves and the panting of our breath sounded unnaturally loud in this strange half-world in which we suddenly found ourselves.

  Kate screamed and squeezed me even tighter while I kicked my heels into the horse’s flank, urging the last few ounces of strength from the exhausted creature. I muttered a prayer and then, mercifully, a wooden building rose into view just in front of us. Maxwell threw himself to the ground and barged through the door and, a few moments later, I brought our horse to a halt and lifted Kate down, propelling her through the door before me. I slammed the door shut behind me—in the face of the tall, ghostly figure looming up out of the darkness.

  I leant against the door, sliding down to the ground and squeezing my eyes shut against the strangled whinnying of our horses, offering them a silent apology for their fate. I sucked in deep breaths to calm my nerves and then opened my eyes, drawing my sword if only for the inexplicable comfort it afforded me.

  Maxwell and Kate stood before me, panting and wide-eyed. I looked around the darkened room and then frowned at a figure huddled in a corner. “Who is that?” I asked.

  The man stared at us. “You’re not one of them, are you?” he asked.

  “No,” said Kate. “We’re not. We’re people, like you.”

  “Oh, thank God,” he said but remained hunched against the wall, hugging his knees.

  We all jumped at a scratching sound from outside and edged away from the door. “Oh God,” muttered the old man, rocking forward and back. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  “What are those things?” asked Kate.

  “Soul-suckers,” whispered the old man. “Soul-suckers, soul-suckers, soul-suckers...”

  I remembered the creatures which the farmer in the Lake District had described as we huddled in his cottage after crashing in the Dirigible; pale, floating creatures which he had witnessed surrounding a man and leaving a lifeless, petrified corpse behind. The association swiftly gave rise to the memory of my own experience of having my soul torn from my body. I shuddered, icy tendrils of fear running down my back; it was not an experience I wished to repeat.

  The old man kicked his heels against the floor and moaned. Kate knelt to calm him, but he shrugged her off, his mouth working in wordless terror. He let out a strangulated yell as he pointed to the door. We turned and then froze as one of the soul-sucking creatures stepped through the wall.

  The thing was tall and thin, a wraith-like figure of sticks and bones bound together by an eerie, sickly light. Tattered rags the colour of vomit hung from its limbs while its face was a ghastly skull stretched and twisted almost beyond recognition. It pulled itself free of the wall with a little effort and then raised a bony finger to point at us. The old man screamed and darted through a door into the body of the house. We followed in quick order, backing away from the apparition, which glided toward us slowly and determinedly. My heart raced faster as I saw another soul-sucker beginning to penetrate the wall.

  I stepped forward, swinging the sword at the creature with grim determination. The barrel of a pistol appeared to my left and fired, followed by another, Kate and Maxwell having had the presence of mind to bring their weapons to bear. The gunshots rang loud in the enclosed space, temporarily deafening me but seeming to have little effect on the ghoul. It paused and then snarled soundlessly as the other of its fellows joined it. Together they advanced on us.

  “Go!” I shouted, my voice sounding muffled to my stunned ears. Without checking that they were complying, I stepped in to attack the creatures, swinging the sword in a broad arc which felt as flat as it was ineffectual. It passed through the ghouls as though they were mere mist and then my world was consumed by the hideous visage
s of the creatures.

  They seemed to speak to my very soul, studying me and finding me wanting. In one terrible flash of clarity, I realised that I was no hero; instead, I was an insect amongst Gods, a child trying to play at adult games who was doomed always to fall short. I realised in that moment that all of my bravado had been foolhardy—there was simply no way that I could prevail against creatures such as these, and there were untold numbers of them streaming through from the Aether all of the time.

  Tears leapt to my eyes and I wanted to collapse in front of them, to beg forgiveness and welcome the oblivion which they would grant me. A hand on my shoulder brought me back to my senses. “Come on, you fool,” said Kate. She dragged me back, away from the nightmares which stalked silently after us.

  We found the old man in the bedroom and slammed the door behind us, using the bed and wardrobe to create a further barricade against the creatures’ entry.

  “You!” screamed the man. “You led them in here! All these past weeks, they have never crossed my threshold. But then you came and they... they...”

  “Now just calm down,” Maxwell said. “We just have to sit here and wait until morn—” A ghostly finger protruded from the centre of our makeshift barricade, followed by a skeletal arm covered in ghastly rags. In short order, three of the creatures were in the room and advancing on us. I looked around; the room was windowless and our only exit was cut off by the ghostly forms. We huddled together against the wall as hideous death floated toward us.

  Chapter 38

  The creatures fanned out so that they seemed to fill the entire room, their fingers luring us, calling us toward them. As they approached, I fancied I could hear some form of music, a ghostly lilt playing us to our doom. A rhythmic banging accompanied this bizarre, hypnotic symphony.

  Our makeshift barricade over the door exploded inwards and a dark figure stepped into and through the dust. The wraiths turned to see what it was that had disturbed their hunt.

  “Hello,” said N’yotsu. “Did you miss me?”

  The nearest wraith swung its arm round and advanced on him. N’yotsu deftly stepped aside and thrust his arm into the creature’s body. He muttered something and the creature dissolved with a fading scream.

  The other two wraiths turned with a snarl and flung themselves at this new threat. Their fingers connected with N’yotsu’s chest before he had a chance to react and he tensed up as his soul was sucked from his body. I recognised the torment in his face and eyes; it was a torture which I had revisited in my worst nightmares over the past weeks, when my conscious mind was unable to block out the memories. His mouth stretched in a soundless “O” and his eyes disappeared in their sockets.

  “We should run,” said Kate. “While they’re distracted.”

  “But N’yotsu...” I began.

  A desolate, heart-wrenching scream filled the room, a cry which forced us to our knees. When it finally died down we looked up through tear-filled eyes to see N’yotsu, with no sign of the wraiths.

  He grinned. “They tried to steal a demon’s soul. Never a good idea, whichever circle of Hell you might hail from.”

  * * *

  We sat round a makeshift fire in the kitchen, warming our hands and feet while we tried to make sense of what had happened. Thanks to N’yotsu’s rescue, the old man appeared to be tolerating our presence although he clearly had no intention of trusting us and settled for sitting and glaring at us from across the room.

  For his part, N’yotsu was unrecognisable from the wretch we had left in Scotland just a few days beforehand. He was once again clean-shaven and impeccably dressed in top hat and tails.

  “How do you do that?” I asked him.

  “Do what, exactly?”

  “Get yourself so dapper and polished, given the state you were in back in Scotland. I do not recall seeing a wardrobe of neatly pressed clothes in the shack we found you in. Nor have we passed a barber shop on our way here.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “He turns up out of nowhere, after refusing to so much as talk to us, vanishes a couple of ghosts, and that is your question? How he got to look so neat and tidy?”

  N’yotsu smiled. “Let us just say that I am learning that there are one or two benefits to my being... what I am.” A flash of sorrow crossed his face before he continued, his smile reappearing like an electric illumination, not to mention about half as natural. “There are many things which I had assumed were immutable but which in fact are pliable to me. Like my appearance and the ability to hunt down my friends.”

  “Interesting turn of phrase,” I said. “‘Hunt down’.”

  N’yotsu stared at me. “You know what I meant.”

  “But if you can do that,” said Kate, “then Andras can as well. So why hasn’t it paid us a visit?”

  “There is every chance that those creatures we just confronted were the agents of Andras,” said N’yotsu. “In any case, the demon already has taken what it wants from you. No offence, but you are irrelevant now.”

  “None taken,” I said, shuddering as I recalled my inability to fight back the ghouls. “I would gladly settle for being irrelevant at this moment.”

  Kate frowned at me and then turned back to N’yotsu. “Few days ago all you’d say was ‘Go away.’ Now all of a sudden you’re back—why the change of heart?”

  We all looked at him as he cleared his throat and looked to the floor. “Seeing you all, hearing you speak, it made me realise how pathetic I was being. Once I considered the fact that you had travelled all that way to find me... I knew that I could not abandon you.” He stared at us and mistook our silence for mistrust. “I can only assure you that I am who I say I am, and that I speak the truth. But know this; with or without you, I shall go to London to stop Andras. I have grown rather fond of this world, and in my present state I would not be welcome amongst my kind. There seem to be far too many of them coming into this world for comfort.”

  “No disagreement there,” I muttered.

  N’yotsu turned to Maxwell. “The device you created… how long before the portal is permanent?”

  “I do not understand,” I said. “Why would it become permanent? Why could you not just turn it off at any time?”

  “Think of the fabric of this world, the barrier between here and the Aether, like your skin,” said Maxwell. “Now imagine a knife wound in that skin. If the knife is removed and the skin is not further distressed, then it heals. However, if the knife is left in or allowed to keep the wound open, the wound will never heal.”

  “And the patient would die,” I said.

  “Indeed. Although in this case it would be somewhat worse. The barrier between this world and the Aether would dissolve. You would, quite literally, have Hell on Earth.”

  “How long do we have before that happens?” asked N’yotsu.

  “Approximately fourteen days from activation,” said Maxwell. “And the portal was activated twelve days ago.

  “Then we need to move. Now,” said Kate, jumping to her feet.

  “So what is your plan?” I asked N’yotsu.

  “I shall kill Andras.”

  Maxwell leaned forwards. “Have you managed to identify a vulnerability in the demon?”

  “I have. We are, after all, essentially the same creature. What harms me would also harm Andras. I simply need access to some of your equipment.”

  After so long, I could finally see a glimmer of hope. “So... The plan is that we get back to London, make a weapon to kill Andras, and then?”

  “We break in to the Royal Observatory,” said N’yotsu. “I distract and kill Andras whilst Maxwell disables the portal, with the assistance of the particular runic forms that he needs from me. You can then all go back to your lives.”

  Kate was frowning. “One question. If you and Andras are the same person, what happens to you if you do kill Andras?”

  N’yotsu looked at her. “I die too.”

  Chapter 39

  What had started as a trickle of refugees became a
torrent as we drew nearer to London, camps of the desperate popping up in every field we passed as the Capital displaced itself into the rest of the country, desperately trying to escape the epicentre of the Hell which Andras was slowly unleashing. I looked upon them with pitying eyes, knowing that, if we failed, their efforts at escape were like sheep running round a slaughterhouse to escape the butcher.

  We rode on horses which we had purchased from a farmer at an exorbitant rate, heading toward the hideous beacon which lay above and just to the south-east of London, betraying the location of Maxwell’s device and the portal it had spawned. The column of light was almost beautiful to look upon, if one ignored its purpose and the dots of invaders streaming from within the cloud above it.

  Soon the mass of people on the roads was such that our pace was forced down to little more than a crawl. I looked at the faces of those we passed, each one glazed in dull desperation. Mothers held sobbing children close while fathers stared ahead grimly.

  “Turn away,” said a voice from the roadside, a woman with a child in her arms. “You’re goin’ the wrong way.”

  I pulled my horse over to where she was seated. “How is London?”

  “Gettin’ emptier by the day,” she said. “You can tell it’s bad when us common folk jump ship.”

  “The Government have left already then, I take it?”

  She laughed. “’Course. Them were the first to head off to the country. Them and the Queen.” She spat on the floor. “First we see of her in years is when she legs it, leaving us all to rot.”

  N’yotsu stared into the distance. “So the city is empty?”