Chaos Descends

by Shane Hegarty

  “This is not right,” said Hugo.

  “I was not there when Finn met Niall Blacktongue,” said Estravon. “I was not in the mountains of the Infested Side as Hugo spent time with the Legends. I do not know for sure why Niall Blacktongue destroyed the cave. I don’t know what Finn and Mr Glad may or may not have talked about before he was trapped, or since.”

  “You’re calling me a traitor!” shouted Finn. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Let us be clear, Estravon,” said Lucien. “Do you think it is safe and proper for this Blighted Village to be left in the hands of Hugo the Great who spent two weeks on the Infested Side in the company of the enemy?”

  “You know that’s not how it was,” hissed Hugo.

  “And do you believe, Estravon, that we should leave Darkmouth to Finn, who might have deliberately created a super-powered Mr Glad, who opened a gateway to the Infested Side and made allies there, returned with a Hogboon, conversed with the traitor Niall Blacktongue, collaborated with him to destroy the crystals at the Cave at the Beginning of the World, and who came dangerously close to assuming the powers of the Trapped?”

  “That’s a lie!” shouted Finn.

  “That’s as clear as day,” said Clara.

  “Don’t do this, Estravon,” Hugo said.

  Finn felt heat rising within him, a volcanic torrent of dread bubbling up from the very deepest reaches of his soul.

  “Well, Estravon,” Lucien repeated. “Do you think Darkmouth is safe in their hands?”

  Estravon raised his head. Thrust out his chin. Pulled the sleeves of his suit down, straightened his collar.

  “No,” he said. “Darkmouth is not safe in their hands.”

  “And what do you recommend be done?” Lucien asked him.

  “That they be removed as Legend Hunters.” Estravon couldn’t look at them as he spoke. “Darkmouth should be taken away from them.”

  It felt unreal to Finn. As unreal as anything that happened that day. In his life so far. It was as if his whole world had been shredded and thrown into the breeze.

  Behind them, the huge celebratory banner finally lost its mooring, fell and draped itself across the wreckage of the stage.

  In the dim basement of a dull building hiding off the street in Liechtenstein, two people stared at dust made of materials they could not fully understand.

  One was a chief scientist to what had been the Council of Twelve, and she looked baffled. The other was her deputy chief scientist, and his moustache now stretched beyond his earlobes. Both had thick, steel-mesh gloves on as they continued their so far futile attempts to make the dust open a gateway.

  A third person arrived. It was Axel of the Office of Snacks. At this point, he was yet to realise that almost the entire Council of Twelve was gone, bound together during a terrible fight at Darkmouth. Which meant he was also unaware that an order of jam tarts for Cedric the Ninth would be entirely wasted.

  Axel was eating sherbet dip, but as its candy stick was already munched he had taken to poking his finger into the bag and using his wet, blackened fingernail to pull out the fizzy treat within.

  “Stumm the Eleventh eats this,” he told the scientists, neither of whom were paying him much attention. “It’s about the only thing that keeps him awake. Or less sleepy anyway.” He dabbed his finger in and sucked on more sherbet.

  Meanwhile, the scientists were attempting to open a gateway in the lab, for the 1,521st time. The chief scientist gathered some dust from where it was piled on silver weighing scales, lifted it on the end of two gloved fingers, tried to push it against some invisible wall between worlds that might be there, but couldn’t find it.

  And, as the dust for attempt number 1,521 fell away, having resolutely failed to burrow towards the Infested Side, she sighed and her deputy made some brief notes on his clipboard.

  “I just don’t understand,” she said. “We’ve tried everything, but nothing works. We simply can’t open any gateways.”

  They went to a desk in the corner to examine the computer there. Axel watched them point at some numbers, drag fingers across charts, discuss what they should do next. As they did, he wandered over to the pile of red dust on the silver weighing scales, leaned over for a closer look at this substance that had become so vital to them, which had caused so much trouble.

  As he did, a thin stream of sherbet poured from the packet he was holding on to the dust.

  Panicked, he looked around at the scientists. They were still huddled over a chart on the screen. So Axel mushed up the red sherbet with the dust before stepping away quickly.

  The scientists returned to find him leaning casually against the furthest wall, sucking on his finger as if he’d not moved.

  “Right,” said the chief scientist. “Let’s try it raw again. Just dust, no mixing agent, but this time using 9.3 mils.”

  The other scientist measured out some dust, then scooped it on to his gloved hand. Axel watched, wincing at the thought of how much he’d ruined their experiment.

  The scientist carefully angled his hand so as not to drop any dust, and waved it across the air. Nothing happened. Axel turned to leave.

  Phwooooack!

  The room lit up, a sunset glow in the corner of Axel’s vision. He whipped round and saw it. A small sparkling smear in the air, but flowing from the outside in, quickly collapsing until, with a phoap, it was gone.

  But it had been a gateway to the Infested Side. Here, in this room. And Axel knew it meant two very important things.

  First, they had found a way to open up a path between the world of humans and the Legends.

  And second he was going to have to order a lot of sherbet.

  Finn tried to close the door of the house. Its lock didn’t catch, so he had to go back and push it shut. But it still wouldn’t so he slammed it hard enough that the lock swung free.

  “I’ll fix that later,” said Hugo, with a sigh of frustration. “Unless Lucien has decided I can’t touch anything here either.”

  Finn stood in the hall, such as it was. It felt strange walking into the house Emmie had stayed in for so long, but this time knowing that he wouldn’t be leaving. Not for now.

  “It’s so small,” said Clara, looking at the way the front porch led straight to the living room. She pulled a large suitcase behind her. Hugo carried a larger bag in one hand and two fighting suits on hangers in the other. Finn had a backpack filled with almost everything he owned. A leg of his cuddly toy peeked out of the base of the zip. He still held on to it. He didn’t know why.

  “I was born to be a Legend Hunter,” said Hugo, staring at the blotchy green wallpaper. “It’s all my family have ever done. I’ve never not had a job to do. I’m not going to start sitting around now.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” said Clara, upset and sadness tightening her voice. “Anyway, no one’s going to do my job for me so I’ll go to the surgery. I’d better not crack anyone’s tooth today. You two get us settled here. Finn, fetch your school uniform out of that bag before it gets too scrunched up. You’ve missed a lot of homework.”

  She started out of the door, ignoring his groans, but seemed to remember something and returned while pulling an object from her work bag. She handed a book to Finn.

  “The bookshop was doing a damaged-goods sale after the, well, after the you-know-what smashed into it. I saw this and thought you’d like it.”

  Finn read the title. How to Become a Veterinarian: A Complete Guide from Aardvark to Zebra.

  That had been his dream: to leave the Legend Hunter world behind and look after animals.

  Things had changed now his destiny had been taken away from him.

  He forced himself to smile, though. “Thanks, Mam.”

  Clara headed out, the door flapping behind her.

  Finn put the book down on the back of the sofa. “I’ll read it later.”

  His father had his head tilted right back and was now inspecting something on the ceiling. “That’s damp, I think. Do
you see it? Or maybe it’s an old bloodstain. That’ll be fix-it job number two.”

  The choice of who would take over, Lucien had said by the collapsed stage, was clear.

  “We must do what is right,” he had said. “We must give the house to someone else.”

  “I won’t do it,” said Steve.

  “Excuse me?” asked Lucien.

  “I won’t take Hugo and Finn’s house. I won’t take what is rightfully theirs. Not now. Not after everything. I’ll admit it’s what I wanted at times. Still do, I suppose. But not like this. Myself and Emmie won’t do it.”

  Lucien had been puzzled. “I wasn’t going to ask you. You have been compromised too, Steve. By where you’ve just been, how you’ve been trapped. That will need a full report. Proper investigation.”

  Steve had looked utterly crushed. He was obviously sincere in not wanting to take the house. But he had wanted to be asked at least.

  “No,” said Lucien, turning to Estravon. “The person who will take over Darkmouth is standing right here.”

  Estravon had pulled at the cuffs of his jacket in anticipation.

  “It is me,” said Lucien.

  And that was that.

  “The town is not going to be safe in his hands,” Finn said now, pulling at a thread on the sofa in this small house. “He’s spent so little time here.”

  “I don’t doubt that at all,” said Hugo.

  “We can’t be sure Mr Glad is gone. He told me that every time he travelled between worlds he became more powerful. He didn’t come back like Steve and the others. He’s still out there. I know it. If he comes back …”

  “They’re playing with fire and at some point very soon it’s all going to go up in flames,” agreed Hugo. “And you and me will have to be the fire brigade.”

  “You’re being very calm about this,” said Finn. “How can you be very calm about this?”

  “Because I know things.”

  “Like what?” asked Finn.

  “For a start,” said Hugo, “I know that the last thing I did before leaving our house was to arrange for it to become the temporary pre-school while they fix the one demolished by the Hydra.”

  Finn couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Lucien being overrun by little monsters. Then again, their own new living arrangements were not exactly ideal. “But we can’t stay here too long, Dad. It’s too small for all of us. You and Steve are going to be a nightmare to live with.”

  A key rattled in the door, but the door swung open anyway and Steve and Emmie stood on the step, looking at the broken lock.

  “I’m not exactly delighted Lucien’s demanded that we stay in Darkmouth until further notice,” said Steve. “But if we’re going to live together, you’ll need to understand how a door works.”

  “Hey-ya, Finn,” said Emmie, holding out a clear plastic bag with a goldfish sloshing around inside.

  “Hey,” he replied. “You’re holding a goldfish.”

  “For you. For the house. While we’re all living together, I thought we should have a pet. We can take it for walks.”

  Finn smiled. “We’ll get a fish tank with wheels on it and pull it along.”

  Emmie took the fish to the kitchen.

  “You’re holding sticky notes,” Hugo said to Steve. “You’re going to label the food so we don’t get it mixed up, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the only way,” Steve said, following Emmie into the kitchen. “It’ll stop us arguing.”

  “No,” said Hugo. “I don’t think anything is going to stop us arguing.”

  Finn and Hugo were left alone again in the sitting room of their new home.

  “I’m sorry,” said Finn.

  “What for?” his father said. “Did you break my Legend Apprentice of the Year trophy on the way? I asked you to be careful with it.”

  “Not that,” said Finn. “Although I did crack it, I think. Just a little bit. But that’s not what I’m apologising for. I’m sorry for everything. For causing this mess.”

  “Listen to me,” said Hugo, stooping to stare at Finn with such intensity he was pressed back against the sofa and worried he’d have to backflip over it to escape. “This is not your fault. You earned the right to protect Darkmouth. That was stolen from you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  He straightened up again, releasing Finn from where he had been pinned against the sofa. Together they moved around and sat on it, in front of a square TV with a wilted potted plant on top.

  “We’ll get Darkmouth back, won’t we, Dad?” Finn asked.

  “We have to,” Hugo replied. “But you have to remember that this conspiracy will go deep. Lucien has convinced the rest of Headquarters to remove us. Do you know how often that’s happened to any Legend Hunter family in the past? Of course you don’t. It’s happened only twice. And that’s counting us.”

  “Did the others end up getting their Blighted Village back?” asked Finn, hopeful.

  “No,” said Hugo. He grinned. “But that’s what makes this all the more of a challenge.”

  From the kitchen, they could hear Steve telling Emmie what sticky notes should go on what cereal.

  “But, before that, I think it’s about time I took a trip,” said Hugo.

  “Really?” exclaimed Finn. It hadn’t even occurred to him that they had freedom now. No expectations. No pressure. No need to stick around. He felt delight and anticipation flood through him. “Where? I mean, there are so many places I want to go to. Spain. Portugal. France. I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

  “Possibly,” said Hugo.

  “Or Italy. Greece. Brazil. Germany. Australia. It’s Australia, isn’t it? New Zealand on the way. America on the way back.”

  “None of those.”

  Finn looked at his dad. They had never been on a holiday. Never run along a soft sandy beach in some tropical part of the world. Never kicked back by a sun-heated swimming pool. Never been in a sun-heated swimming pool. But it was dawning on him that this plan didn’t involve palm trees or suntan lotion.

  “You’re going to get Darkmouth back, aren’t you?” Finn said.

  “Absolutely,” Hugo said.

  “You’re going to Liechtenstein.”

  “We’re going to go wherever we need to,” his father said, with relish. “I still have a few friends out there.”

  Finn thought about it. Thought about the life now open to him in a town where he was no longer expected to be the Legend Hunter. No Legends. No ceremonies. No prophecies. Just an ordinary life, in which he could do whatever he wanted, become whatever he wanted.

  But he also thought about Mr Glad’s threat, and about how Darkmouth remained the last place on Earth where Legends still invaded. He thought about the destiny he’d always been told was his.

  “Want to come along?” asked Hugo, with a smile.

  Finn didn’t need to think twice before answering.

  THANK YOUS

  Thanks to my legendary editors Nick Lake and Samantha Swinnerton.

  Thanks to James De La Rue for the illustrations that so bring Darkmouth to life.

  At HarperCollins, thank you to interiors designer Elorine Grant and cover designers Kate Clarke and Matt Kelly, who make these books jump off the shelf. (Not literally, although we’re working on that.) I’m also grateful to Geraldine Stroud, Mary Byrne, Ann-Marie Dolan, Simon Armstrong and Nicola Carthy in publicity, Nicola Way and Hannah Bourne in marketing, Brigid Nelson and JP Hunting in sales, Amy Knight for production, and to Tony Purdue in HarperCollins Ireland.

  Continued thanks to Ann-Janine Murtagh, head of children’s books at HarperCollins.

  As always, I’m indebted to my wonderful agent Marianne Gunn O’Connor for all her remarkable work.

  Particular love and thanks go to Maeve and our children Oisín, Caoimhe, Aisling and Laoise for sharing the adventure. (And in case you’re wondering, Caoimhe is pronounced Kwee-va. The Irish language is a magnificent thing.)

  And, of course, thanks to all you fantasti
c readers. Now, you may want to jump out of the way because this book will self-destruct in 5 … 4 …

  Books by Shane Hegarty

  DARKMOUTH

  DARKMOUTH: WORLDS EXPLODE

  DARKMOUTH: CHAOS DESCENDS

  About the Author

  SHANE HEGARTY was a journalist before becoming a full-time writer. He lives on the east coast of Ireland, in a village not unlike Darkmouth. Only with no monsters. That he knows about.

  Follow Shane on Twitter: @shanehegarty

  Discover more at: www.youtube.com/Darkmouth

  About the Publisher

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