by Roy Gill
“Then there’s nothing else to do.” Black’s face drained of colour. “I will have my victory, even if I’m not here to see it.” He snapped a final lever down on the Engine. “It’s finished. The mechanism is locked and it can’t be shut off until the worlds synchronise and the final particle of Parallel is destroyed.” He stepped away from the control panel and started to climb up the iron framework of the pounding Engine, on to the top plate of the compression chamber. He held his hands aloft to the swirling red bruise of the daemonic sky. For a moment he stood silhouetted as he swayed giddily on the spot.
Eve shouted a warning. “Look out. He’s going to –”
A black-winged shape swooped through the vortex. Powerful claws punctured Black’s shoulders, seizing him and lifting him up.
“Proof,” he breathed. “At last.”
A razor-sharp beak clacked. Black gave a gargling scream that choked off as he was snatched back through to the Daemon World.
“Food for a Tantalus daemon.” The Wolf King laughed. “Better it than us. He would’ve stuck in my craw.”
“Never mind menu suggestions,” Eve yelled. “What about the machine? How are we going to stop it?”
The two arms of the Engine were overlapping, the spinning globes merging in a blur of light. The archway to the main hall showed the Human World ever more distinctly. People were running – fleeing for their lives from the shaking building.
Eve turned to Cameron. The boy was staring transfixed at the central wheel of the machine. His first howl had rocked it – disturbed it somehow – the vibration throwing it out of kilter. “The Augur was right. Music might be my salvation, after all…”
He shouted to the massed pack, “Wolves! Brothers and sisters! Were-people with a face for Human and Daemon worlds alike – you’re creatures of both, no matter what you’ve been taught. If you’ve ever loved either World, then howl now, I command you.”
Green eyes turned obediently towards him.
“Direct your voice at the Engine’s main wheel, and howl together. We’re gonna to try to throw it out of phase, so howl with all you’ve got!”
He threw back his head and let loose his own cry. The wolves circled the machine, forming an arc around the mechanism, their snouts pointing towards the churning wheel, and followed his call. The air was rent with plaintive song: eerie, multiple and beautiful.
The World Engine stuttered, its mechanism reacting to the bombardment of sound waves – but still the wheel spun.
“It’s not strong enough,” the Wolf King snarled. “We need another voice for the quorum. We must be louder.”
“We need the leader,” added the Wolf Queen, between soaring cries.
The white wolf turned to look at Cameron, his ears flattened. His green eyes flashed a question.
“We need Wolf You, Cam,” Eve said, putting Morgan’s question into words.
Cameron nodded, holding his arms in front of him, fists clenched. “That’s your cue,” he said, bracing himself. “Time to go.”
He stretched his mouth wide and howled again, with all his heart.
He could see the wolf fur overlaid on his arms, but it wasn’t his skin sprouting and morphing as usual – the hair lay across him like a shadow. For a second he saw both – fur and human flesh together – then his howl became a scream. The fur shifted and slipped forward, the shadow moving away, out into the room. It solidified into the shape of a huge black wolf, larger and more powerfully built than any of the others. Cameron’s open arms fell back and he sighed a long breath, dropping to his knees. His throat was ragged and his chest felt unnaturally light, as if there was nothing left inside of him at all.
The black form sauntered, almost casually, to the centre of the arc of wolves around the engine, sat back on its haunches and howled. A new call entered the chorus, and the cries all seemed to synchronise – becoming at last a single, perfect resonant note.
The central wheel cracked and stalled. The globes froze, and sheared free of their bearings, ricocheting like cannonballs across the gallery at ceiling height. The arms of the machine crashed down, causing the top plate of the compression chamber to fly upwards. All round the room, the red patches of instability sizzled and zipped out of existence.
With the quickest of glances back at the boy it had split from, the black wolf charged forward, leaping into the remaining fragment of Parallel matter. The two merged together and grew – and there was a brilliant flash of multicoloured light.
Cameron blacked out.
“– exploded. It doesn’t make sense…. not possible… thing’s just for display. It’s ancient. The Boulton & Watt steam engine hasn’t run on actual steam for –” A distant voice was shouting indignantly, there was the squawk of walkie-talkies, the scream of sirens, but everything was black and fuzzy, and –
When Cameron woke again, Eve was cradling his head, back in the museum’s Science Hall in the Human World. The old steam pumping-engine lay shattered and smoking, the glittering space rocket was toppled and twisted. Display cases were broken, their precious contents scattered to the floor. Through a ragged and scorched hole in the roof, a persistent dreich rain fell. The sky beyond was a reassuringly Edinburgh shade of slate grey.
“It’s ok,” Eve spoke gently. “You did it. You stopped the World Engine.”
“What about the Worlds?”
“They touched, but they didn’t merge. When the Engine stopped, they moved apart again. Now it’s all turning back to normal, fading away like a bad dream. I think the worst place hit was here – like being at the very centre of an explosion.” She smiled sympathetically. “Are you all right?”
“I feel like…” Cameron tried to struggle into an upward position and let out a pathetic moan.
“Like you shouted out a wolf – and got blown from the Parallel by an exploding doomsday machine?”
“That’d describe it, yeah.”
“Cameron,” Eve said quietly, “I don’t understand. How could the wolf just split off from you like that?”
“He came from the Parallel, really – that same night Morgan’s bite saved my life.” Cameron thought of the wolf racing forward, leaping joyously into the void. “It’s like he’s been waiting all this time for the right moment to go home.” His brow furrowed. “What about Morgan? Is he ok?”
“He’s with the pack. Once your wolf-self vanished, they seemed to decide he was in control. He’s not happy about it, but the King’s gone – the Queen too. They just walked away, vanished into Daemonic…”
“I have to go see –”
“Cameron, you need to take it easy.”
He shook his head. Slowly, and with great effort, he managed to stand. He closed his eyes, reaching for the Song of the Parallel in his mind. He heard the first few notes – then it stopped, died away…
He tried again.
The notes started, but he lost the rhythm almost at once. Nothing changed…
He was still here: stuck in this world, among the dust and debris and dripping rainwater.
“Eve,” he whispered. “I can’t world-shift. It’s not working.”
Eve looked away. “Maybe none of us can. We don’t know how much is left of the Parallel. It might nearly all be gone, destroyed by the awful machine. Maybe that means it’s impossible to world-shift –”
“I don’t believe that – and you don’t either,” said Cameron, his jaw set. “You made it back here, and Morgan’s still there, and anyway…” He paused. “I can’t explain it, but I know it hasn’t all disappeared.”
“We should disappear,” Eve glanced round the shattered room, “before people start asking what we’re doing here, and did we have anything to do with blowing up their nice museum?”
“But Eve –”
“Cameron, you saved us,” she said quietly. “Do you realise that? You saved us all. Me and Morgan and the pack –”
“I know, but –” Cameron reached for the Song of the Parallel again. A few notes sang tantalisingly in his
mind, but faded before the tune kicked in. It was infuriating and sad – like knowing you’d once heard the best song ever, but not being able to recall more than a couple of fragments – and not being certain you’d ever hear it again.
And it wasn’t just any song – it was the song that let him move between the worlds…
“Everyone was in danger if the Humanian and Daemonic worlds merged,” Eve emphasised, “and you saved them all.” She looked at her brother and smiled. “That’s amazing. Isn’t it enough for you?”
“I guess so. I guess it’s got to be,” Cameron said. But he knew in his heart that it wasn’t enough at all.
TWO MONTHS LATER
CHAPTER 23
Pretty Good Year
The sun was setting over Blackford Hill, sliding behind the turret of the Observatory and lighting the grass in a golden glow.
Cameron could feel no werewolvish urges in his body, no strange desire to stretch and quiver and change. There was just the thump of his heart, the wind in his ears and the sensation of the skin on his face tightening against the chill of a night in early spring.
Eve said he should stop coming up here, mooning about, that he was only torturing himself with what he’d lost, but he couldn’t help it. It was his right to remember, wasn’t it? To think about the fun he’d had, running wild, on those mad nights. It had been a pretty good year, all in all, until Black and Grey had turned up.
And besides, tonight he had someone to meet.
Stalking up the hill in great rangy strides came a figure in a long army greatcoat and biker boots, his tangled hair blowing behind him. He gave a curt nod to Cameron, and the pair stood for a while, as the sun dipped lower, and the light began to fade.
“Still nothing?” said Morgan, after a time.
“Did you expect there would be?”
“Not really. If there was still a bit of wolf in you, I’d scent it. We usually know our own.”
“Oh.” Cameron scuffed his trainers on the ground. “I can’t hear him anymore, so I guess I knew. Doesn’t make it any easier though…”
“What about the world-shift? Any better?”
“I dunno. I keep catching bits of the Parallel song, but not enough to focus on. I figure if I leave it alone, maybe it’ll jump out at me suddenly.”
“Leap out the cupboard and give you a scare?”
“Something like that, yeah.” Cameron lifted his hand, shielding his eyes. “Thing is though, I keep hearing other songs. All sorts of them. Brand new songs I’ve never heard before. Bits of lyrics that would go great with them too.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
Cameron nodded, a secret smile on his face. He’d loved music well before he’d ever got mixed up in the Parallel. It had always felt important to him. Even if the songs he heard in his head now couldn’t shift him into another world, they still made him feel different, more alive…
“Always did want to start a band.”
“What you gonna play? Lead guitar?”
“Yeah, I might do a bit of singing too.”
Morgan grinned lopsidedly. “Better hand out earplugs when you gig. Last time you howled, a steam engine exploded and the worlds nearly ended.”
“Maybe I’ll keep that for the encore.”
“What you gonna be called?”
“I dunno. Werewolf Parallel?”
“Strange name.”
“Just an idea I got from somewhere.” Cameron shook his head. “Doesn’t have to be that. I figure when I start school again, I’ll ask around. Should be able to get some people together and practise a bit, work out my songs. You remember Amy? She said she could play keyboard, but I reckon she’s more drums –”
“Woah, woah. Hold up. You’re going back to school? Since when?”
“Since I got a glimpse of what it’d be like if I don’t.” Cameron sighed. “Anyway, it might not be that bad. This is a whole new city, isn’t it? Miles away from my old school and problems. Whole new me too… And Amy’s moving through to Edinburgh at the start of summer, so that’ll be a laugh. Eve’s got me reading loads to try and catch up.”
“Rather you than me, mate.”
Cameron stuck his hands in his pockets. “It’s not like I’ve got much choice, is it? Since the two partners in my business decided they’ve got other plans.”
“Low blow.” Morgan’s cheeks coloured. “You know I never wanted to lead that lot of mongrels. Been running away from that noose around my neck for as long as I can remember.” His fingers fidgeted at the collar of his coat.
“But you’re still doing it.”
“It’s not that easy, it’s just…” Morgan’s mouth twitched. “They’re like sheep, the pack. Need someone to follow. If it’s not me, it’s gonna be someone worse – someone big and dumb like Grant, or mean like Lola. Maybe I can shake ’em up a bit, before I do a vanishing act. I’m thinking the whole grow-up get-boring go-and-live-in-Daemonic needs ended.” He squinted at the sky and scratched his ribs. “Mind if we walk a bit?”
“Feeling the need?”
“You know how it is.” Morgan scrunched his nose.
“I remember.”
They climbed for a while, moving further up the hill and away from the road that led back to the human city.
“What about old grumpy?” Morgan said. “She gonna be in your band too?”
“Don’t think so. She claims she prefers opera and classical.” Cameron pulled a face. “Doesn’t seem feasible she’s my sister, does it? Must be some kind of mix up.”
“I’d ask for a refund,” said Morgan, deadpan. “She’s still keeping you company though, right?”
“Mainly, but she’s all over the place. Some days she says she never wants to see another daemon as long as she lives, the next she’s got some secret plan on the go. She won’t tell me, but I think it’s some mad idea to track down our mum.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Can she do that?”
“In the Augur’s ordeal Mrs Ferguson told Eve that mum was ‘banished’, and that’s not the same as dead, is it? It’s a slim chance, but she might be out there somewhere. I think Eve reckons she should go look.”
“What about you? Up for a new adventure?”
“I can’t, can I? Not unless the world-shift comes back.” Cameron shrugged, affecting a casual indifference he didn’t entirely possess. The truth was, this was a problem he didn’t feel ready to think about. “I’ve gone trying to dig up the past before, haven’t I, and it didn’t exactly work out.”
“You found Eve. And me.”
“See? Told you it was a big mistake.” Cameron ducked from Morgan’s playfully swung fist. “It’s Eve’s quest. I’ve got to find my own way.”
They stopped at the brow of the hill. A steep path lead down the other side, snaking away into rougher countryside. Morgan took off his coat, rolling it into a ball and stowing it in a hollow tree he and Cameron had often made use of. Below he was wearing the loose woven robes of the pack; clothes designed to fall away and drop to the ground as their wearer shifted from one shape to another.
“I like your dressing gown,” said Cameron with heavy sarcasm. “Very rock and roll.”
“Hey, it’s practical, isn’t it?”
“It’s a look.”
Morgan shucked off his boots and added them to the stash, his bare feet dancing a jig on cold earth. “Hey, I forgot. Delivery for you.” He took a medallion on a length of string from a pocket in his robe and placed it around Cameron’s neck. The boy dipped his chin to look, and saw the image of a two-faced man staring back at him.
“One of Janus’s white kitty-cats brought it to the hall. Grant tried to bite its ear off before he realised it was marble and chipped a tooth.” Morgan grinned. “I asked kitty if there was any payment due because, you know, Janus –”
“Tricky.”
“Exactly. The cat said no. It was done. Sacrifice had been made, and his master was pleased to extend protection over you and yours once more.”
Cameron rubbed the ward token with his thumb. “So at least I got something out of it, eh?”
Morgan flexed his arms then his legs, stretching like an athlete preparing for a marathon, and let out a long breath. “He’s still out there, you know.” He shot Cameron a direct look. “Other you. I see him about the Parallel. It’s like he’s patrolling, keeping an eye out – not letting anything bad sneak in. Well, there’s still monsters and daemons, obviously, but nothing like Grey… I don’t think there’ll ever be anything like him again.”
“Lots of Parallel to patrol, is there?” Cameron heard his voice go tight as he fought to keep it controlled.
“Oh man, you should see it… It’s growing back bigger and madder than ever, filling up with all kinds of wild stuff. New, different things too. It’s like…” Morgan stopped abruptly. “Sorry. That was tactless, even for me.”
Cameron offered a smile. “It’s ok. Really. I’m glad it’s coming back. That’s what all this was about, wasn’t it?”
“That and saving the World.”
“Oh. That… I forgot. It’s not like they ever said thanks.”
They stood and watched as the night sky turned black and the clouds parted. There was something Cameron kept remembering, something the Augur had said. He’d told him he’d only win through by giving up that which he prized the most. He wondered what that was. Sometimes he thought it was the wolf he’d had to lose and sometimes the world-shifts – but they could come back, right? – or maybe… maybe it was something else altogether…
He pushed the thought away. He’d made one life on the Parallel – perhaps it was time to find another. If he really tried, with his new band and everything, maybe next year could be pretty good too…
“I’m gonna run now,” said Morgan. “You coming along for a bit?”
Cameron nodded. “Always.”
They set off down the hill, side by side, feet dancing from grass to shingle and back again. Air pumped through Cameron’s chest as their pace increased.
