by Darren Shan
Juni Swan was also waiting. She drove them back and left them at the mercy of the werewolves. The plan was to get her hands on Grubbs’s piece of the Kah-Gash and deliver it to her new master. The simplest way was to let the werewolves butcher him, then direct the piece into a form of her choosing when it soared free.
They’d have all perished, but Grubbs unleashed the werewolf within himself and took command of his hairy relatives. He turned the tables on their foes, and although Juni escaped, they killed her conspirators.
Grubbs is sullen when he describes his fight with Juni. He doesn’t look anyone in the eye. He’s clearly hiding something from us but I’ve no idea what.
Twelve of them hit the island. Prae Athim made it thirteen. But only Grubbs, Meera, Shark, and someone called Timas Brauss made it off, leaving Prae behind to look after the werewolves, except for the thirty-seven Grubbs brought with him—his own personal army.
“That’s pretty much it,” he grunts. “Shark’s out of action for a while. Timas is busy elsewhere, looking in on Shark whenever he can. Meera and I linked up with Dervish, Bec, and Kirilli, and we’ve been fighting demons ever since.”
“Where is Dervish?” I ask, anticipating the worst. “Is he…”
“…dead?” Grubbs snorts. “Hardly. I wanted to send him back to the demon universe—he’d live longer there—but he wants to stay and fight till he drops. He stood by us in the first two battles but he was wrecked afterwards. Now he’s acting as a talent-spotting scout. He’s on the edge of this city with thousands of people. When the window opened, he tested them for magical ability. He’s come up with some decent mages at the last two stops. I hope he finds more this time. We could use them—I’m running out of werewolves.”
Nobody seems bothered by Grubbs’s appearance. He looks like something out of a horror movie, twisted and misshapen, picking bits of flesh from between his teeth and under his fingernails. But they’re all treating him as if nothing’s changed. I guess, in times as deadly as these, you can’t worry too much about the looks of those who stand beside you.
But I don’t like it. He’s not just physically different. Something’s changed inside him too. He’s rougher than before, more accepting of violence and death. He reminds me of Beranabus, the way he callously wrote off human casualties, like he wasn’t truly one of us. Raz told me to watch out for Bec, but I think Grubbs is the one I need to worry about.
I ask how Beranabus died. Bec answers, telling her story swiftly. They found Kirilli on the ship after they left me, then descended to the hold, where Juni was waiting. She used a lodestone to open a strange window, through which the Shadow crossed. As Bec fought it, she absorbed some of its memories and realized it was Death. She informed Beranabus and he sent them packing, staying behind to fight their shadowy foe and buy them time.
“He transformed,” she whispers. “He let his demonic half take over. I think he meant to die, whether he won or lost. He wasn’t sure he could change back once he set the demon free.”
“Nobody can ever change back,” Grubbs rumbles, scratching a cut on his chest, then licking flaky blood from his fingers.
Beranabus destroyed the lodestone, sending Death back to the universe of the Demonata. But the shadowy creature struck before it was whipped away, and the ancient magician died in the hold, left to be swallowed by the sea.
Bec, Dervish, Kirilli, and Sharmila made it back to the deck, fighting their way through an army of zombies. But they were trapped there, imprisoned by a barrier of magical energy as the ship sank.
“Sharmila sacrificed herself to save the rest of us,” Bec says miserably. “She lay against the barrier and we exploded her, punching a hole through to safety.” She stops, tears welling in her eyes.
“It should have been me,” Kirilli says. He hasn’t said much so far. Now when he speaks he keeps his head low, embarrassed. “I was the weakest. I ran when the others fought. I’ve served the Disciples well in a non-combative capacity, but I’m no hero. She should be here now, not me.”
“You got that right,” someone laughs, and when I look around I find Dervish standing behind me, smiling weakly. He looks even older than he did on the ship, frail, trembling, about two steps away from death. The six silver, purple-tipped spikes he grew on his head in the oasis are as impressive as ever, but apart from that he looks like a man on his last legs.
“Good to see you, old timer,” I grin.
“You too,” he says. “We thought you were zombie pâté.” He winks at Kirilli, who’s glowering. “Modesty doesn’t become you, Kovacs. I prefer you when you’re blowing hot air and claiming credit for every kill in a five-mile radius.”
“I claim nothing from any man,” Kirilli snarls.
Dervish chuckles, then says, “What have I missed?”
“We’ve been bringing Kernel up to date,” Grubbs yawns, as if the stories of their adventures bore him. “Now he’s about to return the favor.”
Nodding reluctantly, not sure how to begin, I cast my mind back to when the dead first stirred on the ship, take a quick breath, and launch myself at it.
RESTLESS SOULS
I speak clearly and concisely. I don’t think I miss anything important, though I have to backtrack a few times when I recall bits that I overlooked. The others listen in silence, their faces lengthening as I reveal the direness of our situation, the belief of the Old Creatures that the universe is doomed.
There’s silence when I finish. Everyone’s brooding. Even Grubbs looks troubled—his face has altered and become more human.
“I wouldn’t have returned,” Dervish finally says. “I’ve faced a lot in my time, stepped up to all sorts of challenges. But in your position, I’d have stayed on the ark. I wouldn’t have had the guts to come back with so much at risk. I’d have gone with the safe option.”
“Coward,” Kirilli laughs.
“I don’t like being the practical one,” Meera mutters, “but what if he imagined it all? Traveling to the center of the universe… life starting with a chessboard… aliens nudging us up the evolutionary ladder… an ark world. That’s pretty far-fetched, even by our standards. What if he’s crazy? No offense, Kernel.”
“None taken.” I sigh. “I wish it was my imagination. But I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“The Kah-Gash told me I was the trigger,” Grubbs says slowly, and he has that shifty look in his eyes again. “In the hospital, when the three of us were together, it said I had the power to unite and direct it. So that part of the story’s true.”
“It’s all true,” Bec snaps. “Let’s not waste time pretending otherwise. Our world is doomed. The universe is damned. Unless we defeat Death.”
“No one ever cheats death,” Dervish says.
“I did,” Bec reminds him.
I say nothing of Raz’s suspicions about Bec. We need to work together, not abandon ourselves to paranoia.
“We need a plan,” Meera says. “Mr. Trigger Man—any ideas?”
Grubbs shrugs. “Track Death down and rip it to pieces. Easy.”
“You almost sound like you believe that,” Dervish snorts.
“I do,” Grubbs insists. “Death made a mistake when it took a body. That puts it on par with us. From what you told me, Beranabus gave as good as he got when he went up against the Shadow. He sent it screaming back to the foul realm of the Demonata. We’re stronger than Beranabus. We can inflict more damage. I say we reassemble the Kah-Gash, hit Death hard, and end this.”
“I don’t know,” Bec murmurs. “The Kah-Gash frightens me more than Death or the Demonata. They can only kill us, but the Kah-Gash can wipe out the universe, so we never even existed in the first place. I don’t think we should unleash its power unless we absolutely have to.”
“Do you have any idea if we can control it?” I ask. “You’re the Kah-Gash’s memory. Is there anything you can tell us about how it functioned in the past?”
Bec shakes her head. “I’ve always had a perfect memory, and now I can absorb the me
mories of others. This explains why. But I can only recall the memories of my own life or the lives of those I touch. Perhaps, if we joined, the Kah-Gash would reveal more to me, but the dangers…”
“What dangers?” Grubbs snorts. “We’re wrong to be afraid. This is our weapon. We own the pieces—hell, we are the pieces. We’re the Kah-Gash’s masters.”
“No,” I correct him. “We’re its hosts. The pieces have been in thousands of other creatures before. We have no more claim over it than any of them did.”
“Let’s just do it,” Grubbs groans. “It wants to be used. I feel my piece straining to link with yours.”
“I feel that too,” Bec says, “and it scares me. Why is it so eager to be restored, now, after all this time, with Death on the loose and hordes of demons bearing down on our world? It could be plotting against us.”
“It did what we wanted when we linked before,” Grubbs protests. “It took us back in time so that we could stop the tunnel being opened.”
“What if that was a mistake?” Bec argues. “What if we join again and it takes us further back, to when this universe was born? What if it stops that?”
Grubbs scowls and looks away impatiently.
“I share Bec’s concerns,” I tell them. “Even the Old Creatures don’t know what the Kah-Gash is really like, and they’ve been studying it for billions of years. We can’t know its true intentions.”
“Can we afford to wait?” Dervish asks. “If we’re as close to the end as the Old Creatures predict… I think we should test it.”
I sigh. “If it goes wrong, we’ll be condemning all those creatures on the ark.”
“This will sound callous,” Meera says, “but I don’t care. If our world ends, for me everything ends. I’m not concerned about other planets, Old Creatures, or aliens. You feel that way too, Kernel. You wouldn’t have come back if you didn’t.”
“But there are so many worlds… so many species…”
“Tough,” Meera snorts. “They’re not our problem. You came back to help save Earth, not the universe. Am I right or am I right?”
I smile weakly. “I can’t argue with that. OK, I’ll give it a try. But if I start to think we can’t beat Death—if it looks like we’re fighting a losing battle—I will return to the ark. I won’t go down with a sinking ship.”
Dervish claps my back. “I think you were crazy to return, but I like your style! Here’s what I suggest. We move on to the city where the next crossing’s going to happen and we let the window open. You three link and test yourselves against the demons. If you don’t wreck the universe, we’ll take that experience forward and confront the Shadow. If you do wreck the universe… well, we’ll all be dead, so we won’t have to worry about it. How does that sound?”
“Good to me,” Grubbs grunts.
I shrug.
“I suppose,” Bec says hesitantly. “But assuming we pass the test, I’d like to try and learn more about Death before we attack it, find out if it has any weaknesses, if there’s a way to defeat it.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” Grubbs sneers. “Send it a questionnaire?”
Bec licks her lips nervously. “We might have an inside man who can help us.”
“What are you talking about?” Dervish frowns.
“It’s something Beranabus said before he died.” Bec shudders. She was close to the old magician. His death hit her hard. “In the hold of the ship, after I told him about Death, he said to tell Kernel to find him.”
“He wanted me to open a window out of the hold,” I mutter, feeling guilty even though I know there’s nothing I could have done to help him.
“That’s what I thought,” Bec nods. “I assumed he planned to escape or knock the lodestone through the window. But the more I think about it, the more I doubt that assumption. He knew he couldn’t last long against the Shadow, that it would take us several minutes to climb the stairs. He knew you were part of the Kah-Gash and that the Shadow wanted to get its hands on you. Why would he ask you to risk capture? He was doomed and he accepted his death. His only concern was that we evade the Shadow and live to fight another day.
“I don’t think he was asking for help.” Bec licks her lips again. “I think he was looking ahead. Once he knew what the Shadow was, he resigned himself to dying. But he didn’t give up the fight. Juni and I are proof that death isn’t the end. When he found out who his enemy was, I believe Beranabus saw a chance to learn more about it and share that information with us.
“Death uses souls to create its body. Maybe it held on to Beranabus’s soul when it killed him. Part of him might be alive inside that monstrous mass of shadows.”
Bec looks at me and grins shakily. “You can locate anything in the universes of the living, Kernel. Do you think you could find a ghost in the realm of the dead?”
SHADES OF THE FALLEN
There’s uproar when Bec suggests Beranabus might still be alive in some form. Grubbs accuses her of living in a dreamland. Meera gently suggests that she’s in denial, that she needs to accept the ancient magician’s death. But Bec stubbornly pushes her case, and as she elaborates, our skepticism fades.
We know souls can be separated from bodies—that happened to me in Lord Loss’s kingdom years ago, when I entered the Board. In the past, a soul couldn’t survive a body’s death, but things have changed. Death is claiming souls and using them. We’ve no way of knowing if a captured soul remains conscious or not. But if they do… if Beranabus has made a study of Death from the inside and uncovered its secrets… maybe he can tell us how to kill it.
It’s probably a wild shot in the dark. Grubbs certainly thinks so and says that it’s a waste of time, but the rest of us believe it’s worth trying.
But before we can set off in pursuit of a dead man, we have the living to take care of. The new window is almost open. In another few hours, dozens of demons will be streaming across.
While Grubbs fetches his werewolves and Meera rustles up battle-hardened soldiers, I slot patches of light together. Dervish and Kirilli are resting—Dervish looks shattered, Kirilli scared. Bec’s watching me. Something about her gaze makes me feel uneasy.
“It must have been amazing,” she says. “Your trip to the stars and beyond sounds incredible.”
“Yes,” I grunt.
“I was wondering…” She coughs. “I’d like to touch you.”
“What?” I squeak, startled, thinking she wants to kiss me.
“I can absorb your memories if we touch,” she says.
“Oh.” I chuckle at my mistake. Then I grow serious. “Why do you want to take my memories?”
“Not take,” she says. “Share. I want to see everything you saw. The lights, the worlds, the Crux. If you grant me access, I can see all that you did.”
“What does it matter if I show you or not?” I snap.
She looks surprised by my harsh tone. “Well, of course I’m curious,” she says, stammering a bit. “But apart from that I have perfect recall. If you share with me, I might spot something that slipped your mind.”
“I doubt it,” I sniff.
“But it can’t do any harm, surely, if I just…” She reaches out, then stops as I glare at her. Letting her hand drop slowly, her expression darkens. “You’re hiding something from us. Just like Grubbs.”
“You saw that too?” I hiss.
“Everyone sees it. Something happened between him and Juni that he doesn’t want us to know.”
“What do you think it might be?” I ask.
“I’ve no idea. But I think I know what you’re holding back. You look hostile. I’ve done nothing to make you dislike me, so you must be… afraid.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I sneer.
“Maybe not. But you’re nervous… more than that… suspicious?”
I fidget uncomfortably.
“The Old Creatures said the pieces of the Kah-Gash have been influenced by the hosts they’ve inhabited,” Bec says thoughtfully. “If my piece of the Kah
-Gash was in Lord Loss for thousands of years…” Her expression clears. “You don’t trust me. You think I might betray you, or that my piece of the Kah-Gash might trick us.”
“Can you say for sure that it won’t?” I ask quietly.
Bec starts to respond hotly, then pauses. “Actually no,” she admits. Then she looks at me piercingly. “But can you make any guarantees? Can Grubbs? You don’t know where your pieces were before, or why they ended up in you. Maybe we’ll all be played for fools.”
“Maybe.” I nod slowly.
Bec smiles thinly. “Go on watching me, Kernel. I don’t mind. But I’ll be watching you too. And Grubbs. I don’t think any of us can be trusted.”
“You’re right,” I say glumly, then return her smile. “And we’re the ones who are supposed to save the world? I don’t like our chances!”
“Me neither,” she laughs, and we grin at each other, united by our uncertainties, paranoia, and fear.
We could stop the mage before he opens the window, but then we wouldn’t have a chance to test ourselves. I don’t like the course we’re taking—people will probably die—but there’s no other way. If we want to learn about the Kah-Gash before we go looking for the Shadow, we have to fight. We could cross to the demon universe and test it there, but that would mean unleashing the Kah-Gash in an area of total magic. If the weapon’s on the side of the Demonata, that would hand it the perfect opportunity to break free of any confines we might seek to impose.
“Stick close to me,” Grubbs growls. I’m on his left, Bec on his right. Meera, Kirilli, the werewolves, and soldiers are behind us. Dervish is a bit farther back, observing. I sense the window forming. Just minutes to go. The mage is working inside a nearby building.
“We’re not going for a full union,” Grubbs says. “Just a partial link.”
“Are you sure we can do that?” I ask.
“Yes,” Grubbs says. “I’m the trigger. I can control it. Follow my lead, don’t react when you feel my magic mingling with yours, and everything will be coolio.”
