The Case of the Hidden Daemon

by Lucy Banks

  “Put it like this,” Felix Taggerty said, placing his long, twig-like hands firmly on his hips. “They’re big enough to get lost in.”

  “You’d never find your way out again,” Reggie added, a ghoulish grin lighting up his wide, hairless face. “As many people have discovered over the years.”

  “However,” Hrschni said quickly, frowning at the men, “you will find our chambers most comfortable. We’ve already prepared for your stay, in fact. I know how passionate you are about reading, so I’ve taken the liberty of providing you with a small, personal library.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Kester replied cautiously. “But I’d rather visit a real library, and have my freedom too.”

  “The bed is also very comfortable,” Hrschni said, ignoring his comment. “I know humans are partial to soft mattresses, thick duvets, and smooth cotton sheets, so we made sure you’ll have them all. We’ve also provided a personal music player and a computer, should you want to write or entertain yourself.”

  “I presume it hasn’t got Wi-Fi connection,” Kester grumbled.

  “It’s not a hotel!” Parvati snapped. “Of course it hasn’t!”

  “How long do you plan to keep me down here, then?”

  Hrschni sighed, his glow faltering briefly before returning to its former lustre. “I hope not for long. You see, Kester, I want us to get along. It’s important to me that you understand the Thelemites and grow to respect our cause.”

  Kester sighed. “This isn’t the way to go about it.”

  “There is no other way, so just accept it!” Fylgja exclaimed. “Any other human would be honoured to join forces with two daemons!”

  “It’s not as though you’re giving me a choice, though, is it?” Kester said, his voice rising. I know they’re powerful, he thought, biting his lip. But they can’t just lock me up until I do what they want!

  Hrschni glanced at the others. “Reggie, Felix,” he began, smoothly as rippling silk. “Could you escort Kester to his chambers? Make sure he’s blindfolded, so he cannot find his way back. Fylgja, let’s leave them for now. We’ll return in the morning after Kester has had a chance to sleep.”

  “Grand Master, are you certain you don’t want to make him create a spirit door this—”

  “Barty, there’s absolutely no point. You cannot force a spirit-door opener. The desire has to come from within. Besides, I want him to help us of his own free will.”

  Barty sighed, then nodded to Felix and Reggie, who, judging by the simmering glares they were giving Kester, were looking forward to dragging him off into the darkness.

  Kester looked from face to face, fighting to stifle his rising panic. He knew that resisting them would be pointless, they were far stronger than him, not to mention endowed with spirit powers that could potentially wipe him out in a second. I need to think cleverly, he thought, searching the cave for something he could use, anything that might give him an advantage, no matter how small.

  Hrschni curled restlessly in the air, inching closer to where he sat. There was a knowing glimmer to his expression, something that made Kester suspect the daemon could guess his thoughts.

  “We will provide you with an evening meal,” he said elegantly. “And anything else you desire, let us know. Felix and Reggie will remain with you tonight, so you won’t be alone.”

  You mean, so I won’t try to escape, Kester thought but said nothing.

  “Anya, did you want to say good night to your lover?” Fylgja asked with a mocking wave in Kester’s direction. Anya met his eyes again, then quickly looked away.

  “I’ll come back tomorrow.” She paused, and for a moment, she seemed about to say something else. However, a moment later, her lips tightened. Eyes still fixed to the floor, she hurried out after the two daemons.

  Kester felt a part of himself grow cold and hard. Good, he thought, forcing himself to think rationally. The last thing I need is to be emotional right now. I need to think practically and cleverly instead.

  Barty bent, patted Kester on the shoulder, then gestured to Parvati. “Come, my dear,” he said. “We’ve achieved a lot tonight.” He smiled and pressed his hands together. “I look forward to what the morning may bring.”

  Parvati threw one last, nasty smile in Kester’s direction before stalking after Barty. Kester shifted awkwardly on the floor, watching them disappear into the darkness beyond. Reggie and Felix waited patiently until the footsteps of the others had died away into the distance.

  There’s no way I can overpower them, Kester realised. Even at a glance, he could see the thick muscles lining Reggie’s neck and shoulders, and he sensed that Felix was probably stronger than he looked. What the hell am I going to do?

  “Right.” Felix stroked his long chin, as though pondering a philosophical question. “Time to make a move, it’s late.”

  Reggie sighed. “How did we get lumbered with babysitting tonight, eh?” He eyed Kester with open irritation. “If you could just cooperate, you’d make things a lot more pleasant for all of us.”

  “Calm down, Reggie,” Felix interrupted. “The boy has had a lot to take in. You can’t expect him to join forces with us just like that. He’s been indoctrinated by propaganda and lies.”

  “That depends on your viewpoint,” Kester muttered. They both ignored him.

  “We’ll need to put this sack back over your head,” Felix continued. “To make sure you can’t see anything. Will you stay still while we do so?”

  Reggie chuckled. “Or will we have to knock you out instead? Either option works for me.”

  Something tells me you’d enjoy doing that, Kester thought miserably as he patted the loose pebbles and stones under his fingers. “You don’t need to knock me out,” he muttered. “I don’t want to add a headache to the list of my problems.”

  “There’s a good lad,” Reggie replied and extended a hand to help him up. “Perhaps you have got some sense in that thick head of yours after all.”

  “Reggie,” Felix said warningly. “No need for that. Remember, we’ve heard that this boy is something of a prodigy. Which is why Hrschni’s so keen to work with him.”

  Reggie sneered. “There must be other spirit-door openers out there who can do the job better than this one. I mean, look at him.”

  “That’s a fair comment,” Kester admitted. “I have no control over it whatsoever.”

  Felix Taggerty coughed. “Well, that’s what the Grand Master will be helping you with. Now come on, it’s very late, and I need my beauty sleep.”

  “And if we’ve got to bring you some supper too, we need to get moving,” Reggie added.

  Kester took a few deep breaths. Now was his chance. If he couldn’t come up with an idea to escape now, then that would be it, he’d be imprisoned without a hope of ever being rescued by the others. Think! he ordered himself sternly. Come on! There has to be a way out of this mess!

  “Taking your time there, aren’t you?” Reggie’s tone had become dangerously amiable. “Time to get up now, please.”

  “My leg’s cramped up,” Kester lied and pretended to massage his calf. “Give me a moment.”

  Felix glanced at his wristwatch, then at the other lodge master. “I believe this young gentleman is stalling for time.”

  “I’m not!” Kester protested. “I suffer from cramps a lot, it’ll pass in a moment.” He looked around the space, for something, anything, he could use as a rudimentary weapon. However, aside from the oil lamps, which were out of reach, there was nothing.

  He leant his head back against the wall, reminded of Beer Quarry, which had been so similar in appearance to these caves. The situation was a bit different though, he thought ruefully. I’d almost welcome a hag o’ the dribble now, compared to this pair. At least all she did was throw stones at us.

  “Hag o’ the dribble,” he murmured thoughtfully and looked down at the ground.r />
  “What did you say?” Reggie growled suspiciously.

  That’s it, Kester thought with a sudden glimmer of hope. That’s what I’ll do. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was all he could come up with. I’ll copy the hag o’ the dribble and see if it buys me enough time to get away. If not, I dread to think what these two will do to me.

  Pretending to wince again, he surreptitiously scooped up as much of the loose gravel that as he could manage. Here goes, he thought as he rose slowly to his feet.

  “Finally. You took your time about it, didn’t you, you—”

  Kester seized his opportunity and threw open his palms as forcefully as he could. Dust, grit, and stones flew into the air, and the two men immediately closed their eyes, shouting loudly. Without waiting to see what happened next, Kester turned and fled out of the rough entrance into the darkness beyond.

  Why didn’t I grab an oil lamp on the way out? he thought desperately as he tore down the narrow passage, hands outstretched to stop himself from running into the walls. Patting the walls desperately, he felt a left turn, just as the two men hurtled out into the passage behind him.

  “Come back, you daft idiot!” Reggie’s voice echoed flatly off the walls. “These caves are like a maze, you’ll never find your way out!”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “I’ve no idea. Grab a lamp; you go one way, I’ll go the other.”

  Fighting to control his panting, Kester felt his way along the wall behind him. Soon enough, his fingers detected another passageway, which he instantly fled down as quickly and silently as possible.

  I’m still too close to them, he thought desperately, eyes straining in the darkness. All it would take is one shine of the lamplight and they’ll find me. But I don’t want to get lost!

  He carefully edged backwards down the passage, trying to mentally plot the route he’d taken so far. Finally, he stepped out into a larger space. Judging by the uniformity of the walls, he guessed it had been roughly carved out by hand, but it was difficult to tell just by edging around the perimeter.

  Count your footsteps! he ordered himself, struggling to remain calm. He knew that if he started to panic, he’d never find a way out, and dying of starvation in the darkness wasn’t a prospect he relished. Slowly, he counted his steps around the edge of the room until his fingers curled around the edge of another passageway.

  “Kester, where are you?”

  The voice sounded far away but not distant enough for his liking. Biting his lip, Kester retreated still further into the ink-blackness. It was getting increasingly hard to keep tabs on where he was going, but he knew his life depended on it.

  Why did I run away? he berated himself, cursing his stupidity. At least if I’d have stayed with them, I would have had a chance to escape another time. Now, if I get lost, I’m dead.

  His heart pounded against his ribs so hard that he was worried it would give away his location. He waited for another shout from one of the men or footsteps echoing along the stone floor, but to his relief, he heard nothing.

  Somehow, miraculously, I’ve managed to get away, he thought. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or not. Should I call out to them and get them to come and find me? he wondered, taking a deep breath. Or is there a chance I can find my way out of here?

  “Calm down,” Kester told himself quietly. “Come on. You can do this. After all, when they dragged you in here, they didn’t drag you that far, so the entrance has to be somewhere close by.”

  He froze, suddenly convinced that he’d heard a noise. Straining to hear, he pressed against the cold, damp rock. Aside from the steady drip of water from some unseen place, it was completely silent. Eerily so.

  Thank goodness, he thought. He was sweating, in spite of the chill in the air.

  The noise came again, unmistakeable this time. Footsteps! Kester realised with panic and started to creep backwards.

  “Kester?” The voice lingered in the cool air before fading into silence.

  He waited, back pressed against the wall.

  “Come on,” the voice continued. “I know you’re here somewhere. I can hear your breathing.”

  To his horror, the floor in front of him was suddenly bathed in an orange pool of light, which swung gently to and fro. It’s Reggie Shadrach, he realised. And in a few seconds, the light from his oil lamp is going to hit me.

  Without thinking, he stumbled blindly back into the darkness and broke into a panicked jog, still tracing the passageway wall with his fingers.

  Right, right again, left! he repeated to himself. If I don’t remember the order of the turns, I’m done for! After a few minutes, he stopped, daring to turn back round again. To his relief, he was once again surrounded by thick, oppressive blackness. The noise of his breath was deafening, sharp and ragged, more like a wild animal than a human.

  Tentatively, he massaged his stomach. A tight cramp spasmed in his right side, though his physical pain was nothing compared to the tangled mess of his thoughts. I’m doomed, he realised and bit back a laugh. I had the chance to tell Reggie where I was, but instead, I fled like a rabbit onto a motorway. For someone who prides themselves on being able to solve problems rationally, that was a pathetic display of panic.

  He had no idea what to do for the best outcome. Instead, he retreated to the memory of Anya’s face: the thing that made him happiest, up until recently. A succession of painful images passed through his mind: the morning after they’d first spent the night together; her hair spread across the pillow; her lashes flickering restlessly in her sleep. All those times she’d laughed at his jokes with her gap-toothed grin. And most agonisingly of all, the raw regret on her face down here in the caves.

  He slumped down to the floor and groaned, clutching his head in his hands. Why did I ever believe you liked me, Anya? he thought desperately, and a single, hoarse sob escaped from his lips. You let me believe that I was something better. That I was worth more. You made me think, for just a little while, that I wasn’t a complete no-hoper after all.

  Perhaps I’m better off staying down here in the dark. After all, what have I got to live for? I have to endure horrible spirits on a daily basis, my mother’s dead, and my girlfriend never really liked me.

  Finally, wiping his nose on his sleeve, he admitted to himself that he was just being fatalistic. The faces of his father, Miss Wellbeloved, Mike, and Pamela came to mind, which brought a hint of a smile to his face. I’d probably even miss Serena a bit, he conceded. In the months that he’d known them, they’d become his family. An odd, inept, and slightly embarrassing family—but a family nonetheless. He knew they’d be devastated if anything happened to him.

  I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid as to drop my phone in the bushes earlier, he thought. I know I wouldn’t have picked up a signal down here, but at least I could have used it as a torch.

  Standing slowly, he listened once again to ensure there were no footsteps following him. It was completely silent. Right, he realised, rolling up his sleeves. Now I need to figure a way out of here.

  Quietly, Kester edged back in the direction he’d come from, trailing his fingers along the walls to navigate the way. I need to turn right at some point, he thought. Then two lefts, and that should bring me out into that larger space . . .

  He staggered onwards, focused entirely on the task at hand, trying not to think about unseen people lurking in the dark and waiting to jump out at him. The passageway seemed longer than he remembered as he travelled along it. But that could be because I’m taking it more carefully, he reasoned. There was no point fretting now, he needed to focus on the directions instead, if he was going to make it out alive.

  Time passed. Too much time for comfort. After several minutes, he still hadn’t found the larger cavern. Instead, his fingers collided with solid wall. A dead-end. He gulped and patted the sweat off his brow.

  “That�
�s not good,” he mumbled, more to console himself with the sound of his own voice than anything else. Quickly, he retraced his steps. Where did I go wrong? I must have missed a turn somehow. Feeling along the wall, he turned back down the right-hand passageway, then probed the wall, trying to locate the turning that he’d missed.

  After five minutes or so, he stopped. His chest was painfully tight, a sure sign that a full-blown panic attack wasn’t far behind. Why isn’t there another passage to the right? he thought, forcing himself to think things through carefully. Where did I go wrong here?

  Stumbling further along, he eventually hit another dead-end. Kester gasped. “I don’t believe it.” His voice sounded dull and muffled in the narrow space.

  What now? he thought miserably. How the hell am I going to find my way out?

  With vivid clarity, he suddenly remembered the time his mother had taken him to a maze made of corn, out on a farm near their old house in Cambridge. I must have only been about six or seven, he realised. He recollected the height of the corn plants, the rough husks jutting across the path, the stodgy mud beneath his feet. And his mother’s voice, guiding him through the labyrinth. The only reliable constant in a maze of slippery ground and shifting paths.

  I’d run away from her, he remembered with a rueful nod. She must have been terrified, poor Mum. But she never lost her nerve. She kept calling my name, I kept following her voice. And I got out in the end.

  And that’s what’s going to happen now. It was a more practical inner voice now, the one he always associated with his mother. You will get out of this, Kester. It may take some time, but you’ll manage. You just need to create a map in your head, work out where you’ve been, and keep exploring until you find the exit.

  “As long as there is no Minotaur in this maze,” he muttered aloud. Given how many other frightening creatures there were in the world, nothing would surprise him anymore, not even a mythological bull-headed beast.

  Slowly, he crept along the passageways, comforting himself with the knowledge that the walls were straight, dug out rather than naturally formed. These caves were clearly used by humans in the past, he told himself, much like Beer Quarry. And if humans made these passages, then they must lead somewhere.