by Darren Shan
“What?” Art frowns.
“The shield.”
“It is nothing special.”
“Are you tired?” I ask, detecting weariness in his tone.
“Yes.” He sighs. “Travel of this nature is draining. We don’t normally cross vast distances so swiftly. But time is against us, so I must push myself.”
“How far have we come?”
He pauses, then says, “You do not have words to describe it. Your scientists do, but their terms would mean nothing to you.”
Art heads towards a gap in the glowing blocks and I glide after him. We exit the chamber and I’m confronted with an underwater paradise. I’m blown away by what I see, and it takes a minute before I can do anything except bob up and down in the water and stare.
We’re in the middle of a city. The buildings are all kinds of weird shapes, made of seaweed, shells, and huge, twisting roots. Many rise far above and deep below us, two hundred floors high, maybe more. Most sway gently. All sorts of colors, illuminated by enormous swathes of the glowing organisms I saw in the chamber.
There are no roads, just avenues between, through, and around the buildings. No glass or doors, only scores of holes in the structures.
I spot some creatures. There are hordes—schools?—of them all around us, floating along the avenues, darting in and out of holes in the buildings. They look like the sea life of my world, only more varied.
As I’m watching, a shark-like beast with several mouths and one giant eye chases an animal that looks like a cross between a seal and a deer. The predator runs down its prey and rips it to shreds. Clouds of scavengers move in quickly and finish off the scraps that the shark leaves behind.
“Are we safe?” I ask nervously. There are more of the sharks around, and other mutations that look ever fiercer.
“They won’t harm us,” Art says. “This is a perfectly balanced world. Nothing would attack anything that it was not, by nature, designed to prey upon.”
As he says that, a sea snake the size of a redwood tree passes beneath us. It raises its huge head and studies us. I feel like I’m going to be its lunch. But then it moves on, jaws opening and closing slowly, in search of other food.
“I don’t like this,” I mutter. “When can we leave?”
“Soon,” Art says. “First I must acknowledge the greeting of the natives.”
A ring of creatures closes around us. Each looks like a cross between a small whale and an octopus, large but graceful. Their many arms are adorned with shells and sea flowers, and intricate designs that might be tattoos. They swirl over, under, and around one another, as if dancing.
“They are dancing,” Art says. “They worship my kind and wish to perform in our honor. We have not passed through here in a long time. They are excited.”
“Why do they think so much of you?” I ask.
“We saved them from a demon attack long ago.”
“The Demonata cross to other worlds?” I frown.
“Of course,” Art says. “They hate all life-forms. You are not the first to suffer at their hands. And you won’t be the last. Far from it.”
Other creatures gather around us, joining the dance. Their movements become more involved, dozens of different species sweeping around one another, every blink of an eye or swish of a tail carefully choreographed. Through the crush I spot something weird rising from the depths.
“Is that a chessboard?” I ask. It’s much bigger than any board I’ve ever seen, but it’s the right shape, with the usual arrangement of black and white squares.
“There are Boards like this on almost all the worlds where we have had an influence,” Art says. “The Boards are central to the development of intelligence. Some species forget about them as they evolve, but most remember in one way or another.”
“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about chess?”
“The game means nothing,” Art answers. “The Board is everything.”
Something about the way he stresses the word sparks a memory. I recall a visit I paid to Lord Loss’s kingdom several years ago. The demon master loves chess. One of the rooms in his web-based castle was full of sets. He produced a board that he referred to as the original Board. Each square was a self-contained universe of its own, filled with an array of demons.
“Yes,” Art says before I can form a question. “That was the Board we used on your world.”
“I still don’t understand,” I frown. “The Board was just a toy.”
“The Boards are not toys,” Art says. “Each is a map of the original universe, a link to the past before time.”
“You’re talking gibberish,” I scowl.
“It will become clear soon,” Art assures me, then pushes through a gap that the sea creatures have created. “Come. I am fully rested, and the dance has moved into its final arc. It is time for us to depart.”
TAKING TO THE SKIES
WE skip from one world to another, chamber to chamber, through the sub-universe of strange lights. I try to figure out how the windows are being opened, hoping to use the information to break free and make my way back home. But I don’t know how Art gets the panels to pulse and merge.
“Tell me about yourself,” I suggest, partly to break the monotony, partly to learn more about my mysterious guide.
“What do you wish to know?” he replies.
“Where are you from? Beranabus only said that the Old Creatures were beings of ancient, powerful magic, who left our world long ago.”
“We leave every planet eventually,” Art sighs. “We are nomads, moving from one world to another, never settling.”
“But you must have a home,” I press. “Everyone comes from somewhere.”
“Not us,” Art says. “We are of the original universe. We had no beginning.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I grunt.
“It will—” Art begins.
“— soon,” I finish sarcastically.
“Sorry,” Art says. “I know this is hard. But there is much we have to tell you and it is complicated.”
“Let’s try something simpler then.” I think about the sort of things I’d ask any stranger. “How old are you?”
Art makes a sound like someone clearing their throat.
“Oh, come on,” I shout. “Surely you can tell me that much.”
“There is no easy answer,” Art says. “We are as old as this universe but we existed before it. In the original universe, there was no such thing as time. We were not born. We did not age. We simply were.”
“You can’t be as old as the universe,” I challenge him. “It’s billions of years old. Nothing lives for that long.”
“We do,” Art insists. “We exist as spheres of light, and light is almost ageless.”
“Almost? You’re not immortal?”
“Not anymore,” Art says.
“This is crazy,” I mutter.
“Be patient,” Art urges. “By the end of this journey we’ll reveal the secrets of the universe, the origins of life, and the cause of the Big Bang.”
“What’s the Big Bang?”
Art is silent for a long time. Then, in a dejected tone, he says, “This is going to be harder than we thought.”
More worlds and chambers. I doze during some of the journey. In the demon universe I can go weeks or months without sleep, but here I grow tired, just as I do on Earth. I start to wonder how long we’ve been traveling.
“This is the fourth day,” Art answers.
“How much longer will it take?”
“I cannot say.”
“A week?” I snap. “A month? Years?” I lick my lips and ask quietly, “You will take me back, won’t you?”
There’s a pause. “If you choose to return, we—”
“What do you mean?” I roar. “Of course I’ll return! Why shouldn’t I? Are you going to try to—”
“Peace,” Art hushes me. “The choice will be yours. I don’t think you’ll want to go back, but we will not prevent
you from following your destiny.”
“I’ll definitely want to go back,” I growl.
“You should not make such sweeping statements,” Art says. “When you went in search of the demon masquerading as your brother, you were certain you’d return home when you found him, but you didn’t. There are no certainties except death. And even that—”
Whatever he was about to say is lost, because we pass through a window into a chamber made of moss-covered stones. And the place is crawling with demons.
They’re foul beasts, shaped like horses, but their flesh is rotting away and their bones poke through. Yellow blood drips down their legs from their rib cages. The heads are larger than on any horse I’ve seen, and each has two sets of mouths, one above the other. There are no teeth—instead, human-looking fingernails jut out of their gums, blood and drool dribbling between the cracks.
The demons had been fighting or playing with one another—hard to tell with these monsters—but they stop when we pop out in the middle of them. Then, with howls of hunger and delight, they hurl themselves at us.
I react automatically and fire a ball of energy at the nearest beast, then leap clear, onto one of the higher stones of the chamber. The roof caved in long ago and I can see out. A quick survey of the land beyond reveals a scorched, ruined world teeming with monsters. A massive demon is rising into the air a few miles away. Hundreds of beasts are clinging to it, or settled on its back in rows. Fleshy strands dangle from its stomach. Large rocks are attached to the lower ends.
A horse-demon jumps, rears its hooves, and slashes at my throat. I duck, slam my shoulder into its face, and knock it back. “Art!” I scream as others come pounding closer.
“Cover your eyes,” Art says. “Use magic as well as your hands.”
“What good will that do?” I yell, jumping to another stone.
There’s a flash of light and my eyes melt in their sockets. The pain is intense but nothing new. It’s just like when my original eyes were stabbed out.
As I howl and fight off waves of pain and madness, Art says, “You should have done what I told you. These demons are called the Sligstata. Light is my only weapon against them. Most can construct new eyes, as you can, but you have done it before, so you should be faster. Set to work immediately, but focus your other senses on the Sligstata. You can avoid them if you concentrate.”
“But I can’t see!” I howl. “I’m blind!”
“You’ll be dead if you don’t do what I tell you,” Art snarls. There’s real fear in his tone. “I can’t fight these creatures, even if I turn into Artery—there are too many. I can blind them again, but they’ll soon grow wise to that trick. I’m opening a new window but it will take a few minutes. You must defend yourself.”
I curse the Old Creature, then set to work on building a new pair of eyes. It was a long, complicated process before, but this time they grow swiftly, smoothly.
As the eyes form, I listen to the demons and sense their positions. They’re stumbling around, lashing out at one another, wild with blind panic. No threat as long as I remain up here. But others are coming. They swarm over the ruins of the chamber, knocking each other aside in their eagerness to tear into me, the echo of their hooves ringing louder as they draw closer.
There’s strong magic in the air. I let a ball of power build in my fists and wait until the monsters are several feet away, packed tight, focused on me. Then I let them have it, a blast straight down the middle, scattering them, ripping open stomachs and heads, incinerating eyes, faces, and internal organs.
The demons screech with pain and anger, falling beneath the hooves of those behind them. One of the Sligstata hurls itself at me, both sets of mouths gnashing, fingernails twitching. I pirouette away from it like a ballet dancer and land on the opposite side of the chamber. My eyes have almost completed the healing process but I still can’t see.
“Protect yourself,” Art hisses. I was letting another ball of magic build in my hands, but now I divert the power to my eyes and erect a wall of blackness. I see nothing but I know when the light flashes by the screams of the Sligstata.
One of the beasts must have expected the flash and guarded its eyes, because while the others thrash around and topple into the chamber, it makes a beeline for me. No time to dance aside. Planting my feet firmly, I grab the monster by its neck and hold its spitting mouths a few inches from my throat. The stench of its breath would floor a lesser mortal.
As I’m struggling with the demon, my eyes connect with my brain and the world swims back into sight. The Sligstata’s mouths are closer than I thought. Gritting my teeth, I push hard and its jaws slide back. But it’s tenacious and my fingers are damp with sweat and blood. In a few seconds it will wriggle forward and finish me off.
When I first tried to fight in the Demonata’s universe, I was so scared I threw up. I was ashamed at the time, but since then I’ve learned the value of a good stream of vomit. I send a magical buzz down my throat and a wave of digested food rises. I spray the demon with hot, thick puke. It gurgles happily, then screeches as I turn the liquid to acid. As the Sligstata burns and writhes, I drop it and look around.
Dozens of fresh demons are racing towards the chamber. Too many to fight. Some of those beneath me have grown new eyes and are knocking aside the blind Sligstata, zoning in on me, hell-bent on making me pay for their torment.
“It’s looking bad,” I yell at Art, firing a magical bolt at a demon as it tops the chamber wall, driving it back.
“A few more seconds,” Art says calmly, pulsing steadily, hovering in the air above my head.
“We don’t have that long.”
“Just keep them busy a couple more…”
A blue window blinks into life. I don’t wait for Art to give the order. With a yell of fear and triumph, I throw myself at it, linking my hands like a person diving into a swimming pool. The Sligstata snap at me with their nightmarish mouths, but miss, and a second later I’m flying through the panel of light. I start to cheer but the sound catches in my throat as fingernails bite into my left leg. I kick but the beast holds firm and drags me back. The patches of light are twinkling seductively, but I’m being hauled away from them, back into the chamber of death.
I try summoning magic to fry the Sligstata, but I’m temporarily drained. This looks like the end of Cornelius Fleck. I just hope they kill me quickly. Some demons can keep their victims alive for thousands of—
A crackle of electricity shoots through my leg. It sets my skin tingling but hurts the demon more. It starts to lose its grip. I glance back and see that the Old Creature has once again taken on the shape of Artery. The fire in the green-skinned demon’s right eye socket narrows then expands—he’s winking at me! Then he grabs hold of me and leaps. We shoot forward and the window snaps shut behind us. Art transforms back into a ball of light and wraps around me. We swoop towards the pulsing lights like a pair of birds, laughing hysterically at our narrow escape.
GOING UNIVERSAL
IT takes a while to settle down. “Thanks,” I say when I’ve stopped chuckling. “You saved my life.”
“That’s my job,” Art says wryly.
“I thought I was done for. There were so many of them…” I frown. “That wasn’t the demon universe, was it?”
“No,” Art says. “I told you we would not be crossing to their realm.”
“Then what were the Sligstata doing there?”
“That world was demon-free a few months ago,” Art says. “They must have broken through recently. I wouldn’t have come this way if I’d known.”
“Even so, how could so many…” I stop as the answer pops into my head. “They opened a tunnel between their universe and that world.”
“Yes,” Art says.
“The sky demon,” I say slowly. “Did you see it?”
“Yes. There were more, a convoy of them in the sky.”
“Where were they going?”
“Other worlds.” Art sighs. “There were stones of ma
gic hanging beneath it. You call them lodestones. We set such markers in place on all the worlds we visit. They help us hold the Demonata at bay and give the inhabitants of the planets a chance to evolve.
“The defensive power of the stones fades when we move on. As the safety net crumbles, demons seek to open windows and tunnels. If they succeed, they wipe the world clean. Then, in most cases, they return to their own universe. But sometimes on a world where lodestones are plentiful, they use it as a base to launch more attacks.
“The sky demon and its passengers are heading for neighboring worlds, using the stolen, corrupted magic of the lodestones to sustain them. It will take millennia, but they are patient. The power will drain from the stones eventually and they’ll have to return home, but that might not be