by Darren Shan
“I didn’t want to fight your battles for you.” I sense what he’s going to tell me and I feel like crying, but tears won’t come. I can’t let them.
“Always teasing,” Bill-E says sourly. “Making fun of me. Any excuse to take a dig. That day when we discovered the cave… you were sick… me and Loch went climbing in search of Lord Sheftree’s treasure…”
It seems a lifetime ago. Did we really engage in such playful, innocent games? Was there truly a time when buried treasure seemed important, when a school bully was our only concern? Or did we dream it all?
“I saw a chance to get my own back,” Bill-E continues, voice breaking. “We were near the top of the waterfall. He slipped and grabbed hold of a rock. He was clinging on by his fingertips. I stuck my hand out. He snatched for it. But then I… I… I whipped my hand away!”
Bill-E and I lock expressions. We both understand what he means. Dervish doesn’t. He never saw Loch doing that very same thing to Bill-E at school, making him look like a fool in front of everybody. He’s staring at us as if we’re mad.
“I whipped it away,” Bill-E says numbly. “Put my thumb on my nose. Said, ‘Touché, sucker!’ Stuck my tongue out. I didn’t mean for him to fall. I just wanted to have a laugh. But he lost his grip. Fell before I could help him. Hit his head on the ground. His skull cracked open. He…”
Bill-E stops. His face is white. He’s trembling. The wind pulls strongly at him—more strongly than at me, Dervish or anybody else in the cave.
“No,” I say calmly. “You didn’t kill him. It wasn’t a sacrifice. You aren’t the key.” But I know it’s not true. Even as I deny it, I know.
“Grubbs,” Dervish wheezes. “What are you saying? What does it mean? Are you mad? You think Billy caused this?”
“No,” I lie. “Of course not.” But putting the pieces together inside my head. The death—not an accident. Loch’s blood vanishing into the floor of the cave. I’d forgotten about that, but I remember now, the bare floor, wondering where all the blood had gone. Now I know—sucked up by magic. Taken as sacrificial blood, even though it wasn’t intended to be.
Bill-E guilty. By the strictest letter of the law he killed Loch Gossel and the magic in this cave is holding him accountable. I should have suspected sooner. Beranabus kept a tight watch on the cave when he arrived. He couldn’t understand how Juni slipped past him and made a sacrifice. Never suspected Bill-E. Took me at my word when I told him we were alone, that Loch died accidentally.
The demons had it easy. No need to slaughter one of their mages, or even enter the cave and risk alerting Beranabus. A sweet deal. The sacrifice had already been made. All Lord Loss and Juni had to do was turn up a few weeks later, chant the correct spells and make sure the killer was present.
Except they didn’t know who that was. They thought it was me, that the beast or my magic made me murder. That’s why Juni sent me to the cave the night I turned, why she took my blood and smeared the edges of the crack with it. When that failed to produce a reaction, they realised Bill-E must be the guilty one. So Juni hurried over to his house, to haul him in. Nothing personal. It wasn’t for revenge. Lord Loss wanted Bill-E solely for business. And he never meant to kill him. He had other plans for the younger Grady brother.
The wind increases. Dervish has to dig his heels in hard to hold Bill-E back. He looks at me, panicking. “Grubbs! What can we do?”
That tells me he knows too and understands what must be done. He just doesn’t want to admit it, because that would place the burden on him. He doesn’t want the responsibility. Well, too bad—I don’t want it either.
“Bill-E’s the key,” I tell him.
“No,” Dervish protests, but weakly, unconvincingly.
“Grubbs!” Beranabus yells. “I hear them coming. What the hell are—”
“Bill-E’s the key!” I scream and Beranabus gawps at me. “He made the sacrifice. He didn’t mean to. It was an accident. But—”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Dervish hisses.
I look at him miserably. “Yes I do.”
“What’s wrong?” Bill-E mutters, glancing from one of us to the other. “This is good, isn’t it? Now that we know, we can cast a spell to stop it, can’t we? Or… should I have kept my big mouth… shut?”
“No,” I smile. “You did the right thing. Everything will be OK now. We can stop the demons. You’re a hero. You’ve shown us the way to win.”
Bill-E beams proudly. Dervish is staring at me awfully, trembling, gripping his chubby nephew tight. I turn hopelessly to Beranabus, maintaining the smile until I’m facing away from Bill-E, so he can’t see the anguish in my eyes. “Is there another way?” I cry.
“No,” Beranabus says, no pity in his voice, just determination. He starts across the cave, fingers flexing. But he’s taken no more than three or four steps when Lord Loss drops into his path and fires a bolt of magic at him, forcing him back.
“No, no, no, Beranabus,” the demon master coos. “I won’t allow you to spoil such a fascinating scene. This is tremendous sport. Uncle and brother speared on the horns of a most gruelling dilemma. What excruciating entertainment!”
Beranabus tries to respond with a magic bolt of his own, but Lord Loss hits him first. The magician collapses, defences crumbling, all washed up.
The wind is a storm now. Bill-E’s feet are rising into the air. Dervish won’t be able to hold him much longer. Another minute, maybe less, then Bill-E will be torn into the crack, his flesh will join with the rock and he’ll become a living tunnel between this universe and the Demonata’s.
“Dervish!” I scream.
“I can’t.”
“But the demons…”
“I know. But I can’t.” He pulls Bill-E to his chest and wraps both arms around him, fighting the storm, tears coursing down his cheeks.
“Grubbs,” Bill-E grunts, jerking his head clear. “What’s happening? What do we have to do?”
“Dervish,” I say steadily, ignoring the question. “If you don’t, we’ll all die. Everybody else too. Including Bill-E. We can’t save him.”
“You do it then,” Dervish challenges me.
“No. He’s my brother.”
“Do what?” Bill-E howls as Dervish and I glare at one another.
Then the fingers of Dervish’s right hand creep up Bill-E’s back. They stop at his neck and spread, gripping the flesh tight. He hasn’t broken eye contact with me. I’m crying, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Bill-E doesn’t know what’s happening. He looks at me, forehead creased, trying to make sense of this. I hope he doesn’t. Better if he never knows, if Dervish does it quickly and it comes as a short, sharp surprise.
His right hand in place, Dervish moves his left hand up. I don’t know if he means to choke Bill-E or snap his neck. And I never find out. Because the fingers halt halfway up Bill-E’s spine.
“I can’t,” Dervish says quietly, and this time the words are the confession of a broken man.
“I knew it,” Lord Loss laughs. “Humans are so predictable. Even though all else must fall, you cannot bring yourself to harm your beloved nephew. You’ll damn yourself, him, the whole world, all because of misplaced love.” He sighs happily. “Moments such as these make the long, monotonous millennia worthwhile.”
Dervish moans and clutches Bill-E close, planning to hug him as long as he can, to maybe get sucked into the crack with him, so the pair can perish together. Except Bill-E won’t die. He’ll become something terrible and twisted, inhuman and beastlike.
I think of Bill-E suffering, captive within the rock, alive down here indefinitely, wracked with guilt, a plaything for the Demonata when all the other humans have been slaughtered. They’ll torment him. Guilt will eat him whole. Madness will be his only escape, but the demon masters will use magic to restore his senses, to torture him afresh. An eternity of misery, madness and sorrow.
I can’t let that happen.
Entering this cave, I realised I couldn�
��t kill Dervish or Bill-E if they were in league with Lord loss, not even to save the world. I still can’t. But to save Bill-E from a fate genuinely worse than death… for my brother’s sake, as opposed to the sake of billions of others who mean nothing to me…
“Bill-E.” I lean forward, smiling. “Want to help me kick the crap out of these demon creeps?”
Bill-E returns the smile. “Now you’re talking! What do we have to do?”
“Grubbs,” Dervish groans.
“Shut up,” I snap, then smile at Bill-E again. “Take my hands, little brother. Close your eyes. Focus on…” I gulp. “Your mum. Think of your mother.”
“How can that help?” he asks doubtfully.
“It’ll clear your head of bad thoughts and fear,” I improvise. “I need your help to stop this. But I can only do it if you’re calm. It won’t be easy, but you have to try. Think of your mum and every good time you ever shared. That will generate a positive energy which I can channel. I can use that power to stop the demons.”
“Brilliant!” Bill-E gasps, face lighting up. He sticks his hands out, shuts his eyes and concentrates, lids twitching, eyeballs rolling behind them as he searches his memories for cherished moments. He trusts me completely.
Lord Loss has drifted closer. He could stop this, kill or delay me, but he’s entranced. He’s forgotten his mission of all-conquering mayhem. Living only for the bittersweet pain of the moment. Dervish has lowered his face to Bill-E’s shoulder, diverting his gaze. I can’t see Beranabus, Kernel, Spine or Artery. I don’t care. There’s only Bill-E and me in the world now. We’re all that matters.
I let magic build within me, then reach out to take Bill-E’s hands. I stop. A moment of doubt and disbelief. I can’t do this! Then I look over Bill-E’s head. I see claws coming out of the crack. A massive, shadowy cloud of a face, pure evil. Every shade of darkness imaginable. It fills the gap entirely. I’m not sure what it is—no ordinary demon, that’s for sure—but I know it exists only to destroy, and will unless it’s stopped.
“I love you, Bill-E,” I whisper, my heart breaking. And take his hands.
Magic flows from me into my brother. Soft, warm, pleasing energy. His smile spreads slowly from the warmth of the magic or an especially fond memory.
Maybe both. The face of shadows within the crack splits with hatred. It hisses—the sound of a sea boiling dry. Tendrils of darkness dart towards me, a thousand writhing snakes, intent on tearing me away from my brother, separating us forever, using Bill-E for their own evil ends.
“Time to fly, little brother,” I sob, and quickly push. The energy touches Bill-E’s heart and stops it instantly. No pain. Bill-E’s smile freezes in place. The tendrils of darkness blow apart. A furious, hateful bellow as the shadowy face disintegrates. Screams within the crack from scores of cheated demons. The wind stops dead and the howl is replaced by the noise of rocks grinding together as the crack closes. The screams rise sharply, then die away.
It’s over.
I lean forward. Put my lips to my dead brother’s forehead and kiss him, my tears dropping on to his still warm flesh. Then I hug him and Dervish tight, and pray for Lord Loss to kill me swiftly, before I lose my mind to wretched, soul-destroying grief.
EMPTY VESSEL
Growls coming nearer, the patter of tiny feet and the snapping of sharp teeth—Artery. I squeeze my eyes shut, silently willing on the demon child.
“No,” Lord Loss stops him. “To me.”
I reluctantly open my eyes and look up. Lord Loss’s face is glowing with sad satisfaction. Artery is making his way to his master’s side, glowering. Behind them I spot Beranabus, looking old and frail, but triumphant. Kernel is still locked in combat with Spine.
Dervish puts his ear to Bill-E’s chest. Listens a few seconds, then raises his face—his eyes are those of a haunted man. “He’s—”
“Shut up,” I sob before he finishes the sentence. Then, softer, “I had to. Not to stop the Demonata, but for his sake. He would have suffered worse than any of us. They’d have used him. He couldn’t have died. He’d have been stuck down here, tormented by demons, knowing he’d handed our world to them. I couldn’t let that happen. If there’d been any other way…”
Dervish finds my left hand and squeezes reassuringly. We both weep fresh tears.
“Delicious,” Lord Loss murmurs, savouring our sorrow. “I wish this moment could last an eternity. It was worth having our plans thwarted. My brethren will break through another time. This world cannot stand against the Demonata much longer. There is a force in motion which cannot be repelled. That is why I pledged myself to the cause of destruction, much as I delight in humanity’s enduring pain. Things might have gone badly for me if I’d resisted. But this is the best of both universes. You have done me a great favour tonight. I am almost tempted to let you all live… but there are scores to be settled. A few more minutes to relish your agony, then I shall extract my long overdue retribution.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter halfheartedly, brushing Bill-E’s hair back from his eyes. I don’t care about the demon master’s threats. I don’t care about anything except the fact that I’ve killed my brother and life can never hold any pleasure for me again. Better to die sooner rather than later.
But part of me cares. It stirs in response to Lord Loss’s pledge. Energy slides down my arms to my hands. I call it back, but it doesn’t respond. It’s a strange type of energy, not like the magic I used to fight the demons (or kill Bill-E). This is more like the power I felt when I thought all was lost, when I distorted the laws of time and…
“We can go back!” I gasp, bolting upright. “We can travel into the past again and save Bill-E!”
Lord Loss hisses, not liking the sound of that. His six arms rise and he glides closer. Laughing hysterically, I bring my own hands up, aim at him and unleash the energy which has been buzzing at the tips of my fingers for the last few seconds. I expect a huge ball of magic to knock the demon master back, then shoot us into the past, where I can make things right. But the magic comes out in a stream, not a sudden burst. And it doesn’t fly in Lord Loss’s direction. Instead it flows into Bill-E.
I try redirecting the energy, but I can’t control it. The magic seeps out of me and into my dead brother. Lord Loss is watching uncertainly, frowning, perhaps wondering if this is part of a time-travelling spell. Beranabus is dragging himself towards us, not willing to die without a fight. Dervish is still weeping over Bill-E, oblivious to all that’s going on.
And then Bill-E moves.
At first I think it’s just Dervish jolting the body, but then I see Bill-E’s fingers shake and curl inwards. His lips part. He shudders. His eyes flicker open.
“What is this?” Lord Loss growls. “Regeneration? It cannot be. I felt his soul depart.”
“Billy?” Dervish cries, unable to believe it, falling backwards as Bill-E sits up and looks around.
“Bill-E!” I yell with excitement, grasping his arms, squeezing hard, delight taking the place of dread. Somehow I’ve brought him back. I’ve used magic to restore his life. Everything’s OK. We’ve beaten the demons and saved Bill-E. How’s that for a night’s work! “I’m so sorry for what I did, but there was no other way. But it doesn’t matter now. You’re alive. We whupped their ugly hides and…”
I stop. Bill-E’s looking at me curiously, as if he doesn’t know me. And his face is strange. His skin is bubbling, rippling, shimmering, a bit like Juni’s did when her face changed. Then he opens his mouth and speaks, and I can’t understand a word he’s saying, because he’s speaking the language of the girl in the rocks. They’re Bec’s words, not Bill-E’s.
Lord Loss gasps. “You! No! I will not let you—”
Bill-E’s right hand points at the demon master. He shouts something in Bec’s language and Lord Loss screeches, “Artery! Attack!” The hell-child leaps and Bill-E’s hand snaps round. A ball of energy surges from his fingers and Artery explodes into a thousand shredded pieces. He’ll never re
cover from that. The hell-child has been finally, savagely, beautifully killed.
Bill-E stands. His flesh is still changing. The bones seem to be altering too. His eyes and ears. His whole face. Softening. Narrowing. Becoming more… feminine.
Lord Loss stares at the remains of his dead familiar. Trembles with a mixture of rage and fear. “You should not have come back, girl,” he snarls. “This is wrong. You are asking for trouble, and be assured—it will find you.”
Bill-E laughs in a way he never laughed before. Catches sight of Spine and waves a hand at the demon—it melts, screaming shrilly, a pool of gristle-speckled liquid within seconds, leaving Kernel to grapple around uncertainly and wonder what happened to his foe.
Bill-E faces Lord Loss again. His face is unrecognisable. His body too—he’s smaller and his clothes are hanging loosely on his frame. I’d think I was going mad, but Dervish and Beranabus see it too. Their faces are contorted with bewilderment.
He speaks again and this time I hear the girl’s accent as clearly as I heard it when she spoke to me from within the heart of the rock. Lord Loss trembles, then scowls. “So be it. Perhaps you are right—this is not our time. But it will come, be sure of that. And you won’t have to wait another millennium and a half for it!”
The demon master draws himself up straight, then glares at me. “Enjoy your victory, Grubitsch. But remember—the end of the world is coming and there is nothing you or that apprentice priestess can do to stop it. Remember this also—you killed your brother. He died by your hand. How do you think you will sleep tonight? And all the—”
Bill-E barks a short spell. The strips of flesh at the end of the demon master’s legs are suddenly alive with rats. Lord Loss squeals, slaps several of them away, then darts to the stalagmite where the body of Juni Swan is impaled. Ripping her corpse free, he cradles her to his chest, snarls hatefully at all of us in the cave, then launches himself at the crack in the rock—now just a thin line a few centimetres wide. He hits it hard and uses magic to squeeze through. Even so, the walls of the crack scrape much of his and Juni’s flesh away, and the rats on Lord Loss’s legs are knocked loose. They fall on the floor, turn in puzzled circles for a second or two, then tear away, heading for the surface, back to wherever Bill-E summoned them from.