by Kim Curran
“Drop your weapons,” she said, her voice booming as if amplified through a sound system. “Or we will see how big this child’s heart truly is.”
JD hesitated, not wanting to obey the priestess’s command. He’d come up against his fair share of demonic creatures: some were all charm and bright smiles, others were wild beasts, driven only by the desire to kill. But this one…this one was something else. For the past two years, Gail had been teaching JD about stage presence – how to own his place on the stage. But his whole life he’d never come close to the way Zyanya commanded an audience. She was born to be onstage. Born to be adored.
They’d been fools to think that Mourdant had been the one in charge. Zyanya was the one with the power and she always had been.
“Drop them!” she shouted, pushing Milly against the altar beside her.
Milly barely moved. Drugged? JD wondered. Or just beaten? What choice did he have? He could cover the distance between him and Zyanya in a matter of seconds, but not before she could plunge the blade into his friend’s heart. He lowered his sword to the ground. Tom and the others followed his example.
“Now bear witness,” Zyanya said, “to the return of darkness!”
She dragged Milly onto the altar, the tip of the blade still pressed against her chest. The priestess began to sing again, ramping up the notes into her full range. What JD had heard had only been the warm-up. The words made him think of bubbling tar pits and nails scratching at coffin lids, screaming children and crying mothers. All hope leached out of him and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for it to be over. There was no point in fighting. He was just a kid, a stupid kid who was never going to amount to anything. The voices of his teachers and care workers all came back to him, taunting, ringing in his ears.
“You’re a bad boy, Joshua Deacon. You’ll end up in jail. You’ll end up like your good-for-nothing dad.”
Next to JD, Connor fell to his knees, sobbing, crying out for his lost family. Niv and Zek too had collapsed on the floor, hugging their knees, rocking back and forth. Only Tom stayed standing, fighting against whatever power the music had over the others.
“Fight it,” Tom said, shaking JD by the arm. “Fight it. When things get dark, don’t forget…” He sang the first line of “Hold On Tight”, his voice clean and sweet.
“I’m right beside you,” JD picked up, adding his voice to Tom’s. “Nowhere you can hide where I won’t find you,” JD and Tom sang together.
As they launched into the song, JD felt the darkness lift. The images in his mind of all the times he’d failed, all the times he’d proved he was no good and couldn’t be trusted, were replaced by memories of him and Tom and the rest of the boys, laughing, playing music, fighting side by side. He remembered the day they’d all gone to Disneyland and Connor had tried to steal a Goofy costume. The time they’d all played crazy golf in a snowstorm in Wales. The ritual had opened up a black chasm in his soul, which had threatened to suck him down into oblivion. But as Connor and then Zek joined their voices with his, the hole closed, breaking the grip of the demonic magic.
JD turned back to Zyanya, who had her eyes closed and her head held high. It was time for some payback.
Zyanya raised the blade above her head. It sucked in the grey predawn light, hungry to plunge everything around it into darkness. A bolt of blue-black lightning erupted from the rolling clouds above and struck the blade, crackling up and down from tip to hilt, illuminating the symbols carved into the hilt with a glowing black light. Zyanya screamed as if in terrible pain but the screeching turned to laughter. High, terrible laughter. Her hair stood on end and her black eyes shone silver.
“Accept the sacrifice of my Jaguar Warriors, slain in your name. Accept the body of this child as your willing host.”
The blade flashed and Milly waited for it to be plunged into her chest. Waited for it all to be over. Zyanya’s song had leached all hope out of her. But instead of thrusting it into Milly’s heart, Zyanya used the blade to draw a large circle in front of her. Where the point of the blade passed, a glowing blue light appeared in the air, like a trail left by a sparkler. The symbol – the same one Milly had seen her mother cut into her skin – hung, suspended. It wasn’t a light, Milly realized. It was a slice in the very air itself.
Through it, dark smoke poured like poisonous gas. Black tendrils crept across the stone floor and circled around the altar. The dark spirit of Tezcatlipoca was finding its way back to earth, answering the ritual’s call. The smoke became denser and coalesced into the shape of a man standing over Zyanya. He was terrible. He was magnificent.
Zyanya stroked Milly’s face with the flat of the blade, trailing it down her jawline and across her neck. Milly felt the coldness of the Blade of Shadows through her robe. Colder than anything she’d ever felt against her skin. But colder still was the shadow swirling around her.
Zyanya began carving a small circle through the white cotton into Milly’s skin. The blade was so sharp that Milly didn’t feel pain at first, just the wetness of her blood seeping into the material of her robe. And then it came, a hot searing agony that became her whole world. Zyanya stood back, as if looking at her handiwork. A small loop with overlapping ends lay like a pendant on Milly’s chest. The mark giving Tezcatlipoca permission to take possession of her body. The mark that would make her his host.
The shadow spirit of Tezcatlipoca turned to Milly. Dark hands reached out for her, stroking the symbol cut into the skin below her throat. Milly wanted to close her eyes. She wanted to turn away from his touch. But she was frozen, arms bound, lying on the altar like a corpse on a slab. Zyanya sang what Milly sensed were the last words of the ritual. She could feel them vibrating in her chest and through her bones. She had only seconds before the god would possess her.
In that moment, woven under Zyanya’s words, she heard something else. A soft humming, as if music was playing in another room. It became louder. Singing. Tom and JD’s voices rising above Zyanya’s.
Seriously, boys, Milly thought, now is hardly the time for an impromptu gig.
But as their voices became stronger, she noticed Zyanya’s singing becoming weaker and realized its hold was waning. The demon priestess stuttered. It was putting her off. Zyanya shook her head as if to push out the words the boys were singing. This was Milly’s chance.
She grabbed Zyanya’s arm in her chained hands and rolled off the altar, taking the priestess with her. Not exactly like the moves she and Tom practised outside the bus, but it worked. She and the demon went crashing to the cold stone floor. The impact knocked the blade out of Zyanya’s hand and it skidded away.
Milly dived for it, the fingertips of her bound hands brushing the bone hilt; she almost had it when nails dug into the flesh of her back and dragged her away. Driven by rage, Milly flipped onto her back, reached up and looped the manacle chain around Zyanya’s neck in one swift move. They rolled, over and over, as the demon priestess tried to shake her off.
Zyanya stood, Milly clinging onto her back now, and Milly had a flash of memory of her mother carrying her like this when she was a child, while her father watched and clapped with joy. There had been laughter and maybe even love, although her mother had never used that word. Where had it all gone? When her father died it was as if he’d taken any happiness in either of their lives with him, leaving only a self-absorbed woman and an abandoned child.
Zyanya clawed at the chain, hissing and spitting. Milly’s mother had been strong when alive and the demon that possessed her had given her body even more strength. She kicked off the altar, sending both of them crashing into the wall. The stone cracked under their weight and the wind was knocked out of Milly’s lungs. But she wasn’t going to let go. She clung on with every bit of strength she had as Zyanya slammed her into the wall again. Her head cracked against the cold stone and for a moment she saw stars. She shook them away and focused on tightening the chokehold, pressing one knee into the demon’s back and leaning away, using her body weig
ht to add to the pressure on the chain. Tom’s voice came back to her: Use anything to give you an edge.
The creature that killed her mother gurgled and gasped.
“Do it, Lyudmila,” a voice Milly recognized hissed through a crushed windpipe. “Please.”
Milly froze as the realization hit her. Her mother was still alive, still fighting.
“I can’t hold her back any more,” Milly’s mother said. “Do it! Save me. Save us both.”
“I can’t,” Milly cried, loosening the chains.
Her mother’s hands found hers and squeezed. “You have to. I love you.”
In her entire life, Milly’s mother had never said those words.
The voice changed again. “You cannot defeat me!” roared Zyanya, in control once more. “I will have my revenge!”
Milly knew what she had to do. She finally accepted there was no coming back for her mother, that she had to let her go. This was the only way to set her free.
“No!” Milly said, her voice choked with tears. “I will have my revenge.”
She tugged with all her might, channelling all her rage, all her hatred and all her grief, tightening and twisting the chain around Zyanya’s neck.
Finally, Zyanya went limp. The dead weight pulled Milly to her knees. Milly stayed there for a moment, panting, leaning her pounding head against the demon’s still back. Then she unlooped the chain from around the neck and let the body fall the rest of the way to the ground.
Her mother’s eyes – now brown once more – stared up at the grey sky. The demon was gone, leaving only an empty corpse. Milly threw herself on her mother’s body, screaming, sobbing, the pain she had been fighting back for the last few days bursting out of her. But she couldn’t break now, it wasn’t over. She lifted her head and wiped away the tears.
The shadow god stepped forward, hands reaching out for her once more. The symbol in the air that had summoned him had faded. But there was one last part of the ritual still to be completed: Tezcatlipoca still needed to take possession of his host. The shadow god’s body rippled with muscles, his eyes glowed silver; looking into them was like looking into a burning star. She was in the presence of a demon god – a being of pure power.
He’s beautiful, Milly thought, perfect. Why would I fight him? He’s here to save me. He’s here to save us all.
“No pain, no fear,” a voice that sounded like worms eating corpses promised her. “Only power. All can be yours.”
If she gave in to him, became his host willingly, that power would be hers. She would be the greatest living thing on the face of this pathetic planet. Every person who ever snubbed her, she could crush. Everyone who ever abandoned her, she would destroy. And those who loved her, they would worship her. She would be adored. But, Milly realized, she would still be alone. Trapped for ever in a cage with a demon.
Tezcatlipoca moved closer, hands caressing the mark, probing. Milly felt ice clutch at her heart. He was finding his way in, just as she’d seen Zyanya enter her mother’s body.
“Don’t fight me, child. You have been chosen.” The mark burned as if it was being carved into her skin for the second time. Hot blood flowed from the wound and the pain was all consuming. Colours pricked at the corners of her eyes and she felt a great weariness tugging at her consciousness. All she wanted to do was sleep. To escape.
She looked down to see the blade in her hands. She didn’t remember picking it up. It felt warm and inviting. Powerful, but it was a different kind of power. The power of choice.
Milly didn’t notice the battle going on around her as the boys fought to get to the top of the pyramid, to her. She was locked in her own battle with Tezcatlipoca.
Tom said that a human host had to let a demon in? Well there was no way she was letting this thing take her.
Sucking in a breath, she dragged the blade across the symbol carved into her chest, breaking the circle, denying the god his permission.
“I am stronger than you!” she shouted, ignoring the pounding pain. “That’s why your priestess chose me, because I am strong. But you’re weak. You’re nothing but shadow and smoke, whispers in the dark. Well guess what, I’m not listening. No one is listening to you. So you can just go and crawl back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in!”
The shadow form twitched and twisted as if Milly’s words were causing it pain. It shrank, getting smaller and smaller, until it looked like she was addressing her own shadow cast on the floor of the temple. She slashed through the chains binding her wrists and threw the blade to the floor, then opened her mouth to let out a victorious, “Ha!”
Before the sound left her mouth, the shadow spirit of Tezcatlipoca leaped. Shadow hands wrapped themselves around her throat, crushing, choking. One stayed on her neck while the other crept up her face, pushing into her mouth, her eyes, her nose, pressing and pushing and trying to find a way in.
“Wait!”
The god’s hands froze.
A figure stood over Milly, the black blade in his hand. He was injured – a red mark on his arm that looked like teeth marks or…a looping circle hastily carved into his skin.
Tom smiled at Milly and said, “Take me.”
JD scooped up his sword and raced up the final stretch of steps, slashing, spinning, hacking at the Jaguar Warriors that stood between him and the altar. He’d stopped thinking and was acting on pure instinct; his only objective was to stop Zyanya and save Milly.
A Jaguar Warrior, which must have been easily 200 kilos, stepped in front of him, blocking his view. It pulled back purple lips to reveal sharp black teeth and roared fetid hot breath in his face. JD tried to dodge but it was too fast, kicking him in the chest and sending him flying backwards down the steps.
He landed on his back, hard. He didn’t have time for pain. Jackknifing back onto his feet, he charged at the demon. At the last moment he skidded to his knees and spun, bringing his sword around in a smooth arc. The beast looked down at a gash that had appeared in its fur-covered stomach with a curious, almost hungry look on its face, before crumpling to the floor.
JD stepped over the body. Now there was nothing between him and the altar. He reached the final step, breath heavy and heart pounding, and saw Zyanya on the ground. Dead. A wave of relief hit him. It was over. The priestess was dead, the ritual halted. He glanced around, desperately seeking out Milly.
Then he saw her, on her knees before the altar, gasping for breath as a dark cloud swirled around her. The demon god was still trying to possess her, trying to force its way into her body. He raised his sword and hesitated. There was no way to stop Tezcatlipoca without hurting Milly.
“Wait!” JD heard Tom cry out, aching agony in his voice.
Tom stood beside Milly, the black blade in his hand.
No, JD thought. If it was too late for Milly, if she’d already been possessed, Tom shouldn’t be the one to have to finish her. JD forced his limbs to move, but it felt like he was moving through deep, cold water.
“Take me.”
What did Tom mean? He couldn’t… JD pushed himself forward, till he stood side by side with Tom. Milly was on the floor, fighting against the force that had hold of her limbs, blood all over her face and neck. Tom too was bleeding from a wound on his wrist. A circular shape that cut through the protective tattoos.
“No!” JD screamed as he realized what Tom had done, what Tom was doing. He had inscribed himself with the mark of Tezcatlipoca, signing the contract that offered up his own body for the god to possess.
The dark cloud released Milly and she collapsed on the floor, coughing and gasping for air. It took shape once more, forming into the figure of a huge man, with glowing silver eyes. It moved towards Tom, hands reaching for his face, stroking his skin, down his neck, shoulder and towards the mark Tom had carved into his own arm. Tendrils of smoke curled around the symbol and JD saw them creep under Tom’s skin, like worms burying under flesh.
Tom turned to JD. Tears cut a track through the dirt and blood on his face.<
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“Ready?” Tom said, as he closed his eyes and stretched out his arms.
Ready? JD thought. Tom couldn’t possibly mean what he thought he meant. In offering up his body to the god he was setting a trap. But triggering it would mean killing Tom and there was no way JD could kill his best friend. Whereas Milly had fought the demon god off, Tom was welcoming it in. It would possess him any moment and then it would all be over. There had to be some way to stop the god. A way to break the contract Tom had just so stupidly, so selflessly, signed.
The veins on Tom’s arm turned black, as the shadow god seeped into his bloodstream. JD had only a matter of seconds before it would be over. He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let the demon god take Tom’s body, even if it meant doing the unthinkable. There was only one choice.
He swung his blade, bringing it down on his friend. Tom cried out in agony and fell, first to his knees and then toppling over. He lay in a growing pool of blood, his eyes wide open. But he was alive. JD hadn’t taken his life. He had taken his hand.
JD had sliced it off just below the elbow, cutting away the symbol that had given the demon permission to take him. JD swiped off his belt and wrapped it around Tom’s arm, yanking it tight.
The shadow god threw its head back and roared, a sound like thunder that shook the pyramid, and turned relentlessly back towards Milly. But as dark clouds swirled on the horizon, a bead of golden sunlight broke through. Dawn was coming.
The sky turned a pale pink, then orange as the sun rose on the first day of the equinox. Beams of golden light spread across the land below like spears heading straight for the pyramid. Tezcatlipoca screeched as the first shard of light struck him, backing away, trying to creep into the darkness within the pyramid, but there was no escaping the sun or the god it represented. Quetzalcoatl had come to reclaim his temple.
“The blade,” JD said, remembering that now was their chance to destroy it for ever.
It lay on the floor by Tom’s side. JD clutched it up and scrambled to the very centre of the platform, but then, for a split second, he hesitated. This blade was a key that could open a gateway to the Netherworld. This could be the chance he had been looking for to take the fight to the demons and end their attacks on the human world once and for all.
