The Infernal Aether Box Set: All Four Books In The Series

by Peter Oxley

  “What does this have to do with us?” I asked. Kate rolled her eyes at me; clearly I was retreading old ground here.

  “I believe that the very situation and design of Nonsuch was deliberate so as to facilitate the movement of bodies into the spirit world. Essentially I believe that it was intended to be an experiment into the potential for applying Solomoniac principles vis-à-vis the transfer of entities across and between realms, but on a massive scale.”

  I frowned as my ears and brain fought to keep pace with my brother’s thought processes. “Are you saying that the whole palace was designed as some form of rudimentary portal?”

  “I believe so, yes. Although not overtly, and I doubt whether King Henry was aware of the hidden intent behind the plans. But in order for it to work, it would need to tap into huge quantities of arcane forces and powers. I believe that this may be the epicentre of the Fulcrum.” He sat back and grinned at me.

  “The epicentre of the Fulcrum? So if that were true then… what?”

  “It gives us a physical location to focus our efforts,” he said. “Once we have come up with a method of halting the Fulcrum, we can focus it there. In any event, by knowing the location of the epicentre, we get closer to understanding the phenomenon.”

  “Clever people them Tudors, eh?” said Kate sarcastically.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “History is one of my strong points. Henry VIII was incredibly controlling and he was personally involved in the design and commissioning of Nonsuch. How could something as big as this have slipped past him?”

  “Yes, but those with the biggest egos are also the easiest to flatter and deceive,” said Maxwell. “In any case, it is possible, following your logic, that he was aware. After all, King Henry was always looking to increase his prestige, and how better than to discover and conquer new worlds? Or at the very least to give him a new hunting ground?”

  I thumbed through the papers, unconvinced. “Aside from chancing upon a name of a sorcerer who may or may not have been involved in planning the palace, do you have any other evidence to back up your claim?”

  “Of course I do. It is not a matter of public record, but Nonsuch has been the site of a number of unusual disturbances since its construction began in 1538. And why else was such a magnificent palace torn down less than 150 years after it was so painstakingly built?”

  “I thought that was to pay off the gambling debts of some Countess or other?”

  “But surely the building as a whole would have been worth more than breaking it up and selling it piece by piece,” said Maxwell.

  “I would have thought that that would depend on what those pieces were, and what people were willing to pay for them. As I said, do you have anything concrete aside from rumour and speculation?”

  Maxwell pointed to a stack of papers by my right elbow. “Those are a series of reports into alleged hauntings and disappearances centred around Nonsuch since 1540, when the construction of the buildings were well advanced.”

  I frowned as I flicked through the documents. “I do not recall hearing about any of this.”

  “Some of them are not public record. Given the unrest at the time, with the dissolution of the monasteries, the suppression of Catholicism and so on, any rumours that one of the King’s own palaces was cursed would have been a boon to his opponents. And in any event, they were no doubt keen to ensure that any stories that might hint at the building’s true purpose were suppressed. In relation to those that were published… well, it is not unusual for a large manor house to be rumoured as haunted. Indeed, at several times in history such a thing has been considered rather fashionable.”

  “That is not all,” said Joshua appearing at my side. “If you take the sketch of the grounds from this picture,” he pulled a piece of parchment from the pile of drawings, “and overlay it with a pentagram you can see…” He held it up for my analysis and I grunted. Certain buildings, rooms and outhouses seemed to broadly align with the points of the pentagram.

  “Do you not think it is a bit spurious?” I asked. “Surely you can see a pentagram anywhere if you really look hard enough.”

  “Normally I would be the first to agree with you,” said Maxwell. “But the evidence keeps mounting up. I have had a number of readings taken there, and there is a definite Aetheric residue across the site where the building once stood.”

  “One of Andras’ portals?” I asked.

  “I did wonder whether the demon had tested its portals there, but the nearest two sites were Windsor and Greenwich.”

  “Which were also the strongest and most damaging portals,” added N’yotsu.

  “Indeed,” said Maxwell. “And while Nonsuch is not quite equidistant between the two, it is as near as dammit: 18 miles from Windsor and around 15 miles from Greenwich as the crow flies. Three miles, which when we’re considering the distances between realms is but a rounding error!”

  “My, my Max,” I grinned, “you are using swearwords. I must say I have not seen you this animated in quite a while.”

  “Indeed,” said Dr Smith. “Maybe you should use this enthusiasm to venture outside and visit this Nonsuch place.”

  Maxwell glared at him and then continued. “There is still much investigation to be done, but if some form of connection is proven then the implications could be profound.”

  I flicked through the papers, my mind running through the possibilities and mulling over what could have motivated people from so long ago to undertake such an experiment—if that was indeed what they had done. My mind’s eye imagined fat King Henry atop a horse galloping at the head of a hunting expedition, charging down demons to satisfy his bloodlust and desire for conquest. Or even an army of Tudor soldiers marching through a portal to conquer lands unknown. These were scenes that would be worthy of Jules Verne himself and I smiled, wondering whether I should write to him and suggest that we collaborate. It would be a fine thing to finally write fiction, rather than chronicling the terrible reality we lived every day.

  N’yotsu and Maxwell were discussing in more detail his theories about Nonsuch, which involved some rather intense conversations about obscure occult principles. I perked up when I heard mention of a field trip to retrieve more data. “I would be happy to attend also,” I said.

  “Assuming you are well enough,” said Dr Smith.

  “I will be,” I replied, a little harsher than I had intended.

  “In any case,” said N’yotsu, “there is also the matter of Gaap. It is a worrying development on its own that a demon of his standing has come through, but the mention he made of the ‘Four Kings’ is particularly concerning.”

  I remembered Gaap and the other demons chanting about those Kings before engaging us in battle, although it had meant as little to me then as it did now. “You know of them?” I asked.

  “I am afraid so,” he said. “Rather intimately in fact, although I wish I did not. They are four of the most powerful demons from my realm. Asmoday, Abaddon, Bileth and Belial.” He spat out the names as though they left a sour taste on his tongue. “Gaap is but their lackey.”

  The doctor dropped his bag, spilling implements all over the floor. He held up his hand in apology and scrabbled around to collect them.

  “And they’re bad?” asked Kate.

  “They are vain, power-hungry and utterly ruthless,” he said. “It was they who were responsible for casting me—or rather Andras—from Almadel: my home.” Noting our interested expressions, he added: “But that is a tale for another time as it is not really relevant to the matter at hand.”

  “Indeed,” said Maxwell. “So tell us more about these Four Kings. Presumably this is a threat we should be guarding against?”

  N’yotsu bent over to hand the doctor a phial that had rolled under his chair, then took a deep breath and began. “Asmoday you will remember from the Lesser Key of Solomon, where he is listed as the 32nd spirit: a great King, strong and powerful. He has appeared throughout human history as a leader among demons and his
name is often connected to jealousy, anger and revenge.

  “Abaddon likes to be known as the angel of death, destruction and the Netherworld. He leads the armies of Furies, his footsoldiers who are invincible on the battlefield.

  “Bileth is headstrong and emotional, known as a mighty and terrible King. He is also listed in the Lesser Key of Solomon: number 13 if memory serves me correct. In some ways he is the group’s weakest link, but is quick to anger and when he is in a rage there is little that can stand in his way.

  “Finally there is Belial, who in my opinion is the most dangerous. His appearance belies a terrible nature; while he seems beautiful and mild, he is in fact full of treachery, recklessness and deceit. Many poor souls have fallen victim to his charms, and in human folklore his name has often been interchangeable with one that you will be very familiar: Satan, or the Antichrist.”

  “And then there’s Gaap?” asked Joshua.

  “Ah, yes. My dear old friend Gaap. He is a lower level demon but when I left he was acting as adviser to the Four Kings, and was particularly to blame for my fall from grace and banishment to the Aether.” He glared at the floor in a way that did not invite any further questions.

  Silence descended on the room as we considered these words. “So, a bit worse than Andras then?” said Kate.

  “Andras would never admit it, as they are sworn enemies; and it is worth pointing out that it took all four of them working together to defeat Andras. But yes: if they are here on Earth then we have much to be concerned about.”

  I smiled tightly at this understatement. “But it’s still an ‘if’ though, is it not? Gaap and his fellow demons only said: ‘All hail the Four Kings’, not ‘The Four Kings are here and about to kill you all’.”

  “Agreed,” said N’yotsu. “They are not the types to sit around quietly, so the fact that we have not heard of any widespread mayhem so far is an encouraging sign. But the mere fact that their followers are here is worrying enough. If Belial and the rest have not arrived yet, then you can guarantee that they will be trying their damnedest to get here.”

  “And the Fulcrum will no doubt aid them in that,” said Lexie.

  “Indeed it will,” said Maxwell. “This merely reinforces the urgency of our task.”

  Kate turned to N’yotsu. “So is that all of the really bad demons we need to worry about? Or are there others?”

  “There are always others,” he said with a tight smile.

  Chapter 11

  I sat as patiently as I could while Dr Smith examined me with a slowness that bordered on the glacial.

  “Is this going to take much longer?” I asked again.

  “When a person has been subjected to a large amount of stress such as yourself,” he said, “it is usual for his doctor to conduct a thorough examination. I would not wish to release you only to find that you collapsed a few metres from the doorway.”

  “There is little chance of that happening. I am fully recovered.”

  “I shall be the judge of that, Mr Potts.”

  I relented and sat back, breathing and coughing and raising various appendages on command. Kate put her head round the door. “You about ready?” she asked. “Only we’d quite like to leave this year.”

  “A few more minutes, Miss Thatcher,” the doctor said. He handed me a small phial filled with a purple liquid. “Drink this, please.”

  I held it up to the light. “What is it?”

  “A mixture of natural herbs to aid your recovery and give you strength.” He raised his eyebrows at my sceptical look. “If you do not trust me then do not drink it,” he sighed, reaching for it.

  I held up my hand. “No, no,” I said, putting it to my lips and swallowing. “Is there laudanum in there?” I asked, smacking my lips together as I handed him back the empty phial.

  “A few drops, to aid its ingestion. Not enough to influence your mood; especially not a person who is as accustomed to it as you.”

  “Good,” said Kate. “We need sensible Gus, not drunken Gus. You’ve got five minutes, you hear?”

  When she had left the room, Dr Smith looked at me. “Are you worried about what will happen if you should find yourself, ah, succumbing to your sword’s influence?”

  “In what way?”

  “As in the physical changes. Given their profundity it would be quite a shock for anyone not expecting them. Such as Miss Thatcher, for instance.”

  “If you are advising me to tell her what is happening to me, then you are wasting your breath,” I said. “She has suffered enough horrendous demonic interventions in her life and I am not going to add to them.”

  “You may have no choice. You said yourself that the changes occur unbidden whenever you are in the heat of battle.”

  “Then I shall avoid battles,” I said. “This is a reconnaissance mission, nothing more. Max just wants us to run some tests. We shall be back before anything demonic happens.”

  He straightened up, putting his stethoscope aside. “Well, I wish you luck. You appear in good health, although I would recommend that you ease yourself into action slowly and do not exert yourself too much.”

  I pulled on my jacket and grinned. “The thought had not even crossed my mind, doctor.” My chirpiness though belied an inner turmoil, for his words had once again struck a raw nerve. What if I did transform into a demon in front of my friends? I took a deep breath as I walked out of the door, resolving to do anything to stop that from happening.

  “So this is Nonsuch?” I asked, staring out at a large mound of grass on the edge of the road running between North Cheam and Lower Cheam.

  “Somewhere round here,” said Joshua, holding up a map. “At least this is where Maxwell’s calculations have pointed us to.”

  “I thought there’d be ruins,” said Kate. “Like old castles and whatnot. There’s nothing here.”

  “When they tore the house down,” I said, “they pretty much took away every part of it, right down to the bricks and mortar. I would wager that we would find bits of the old palace in the building blocks of every house for miles around.”

  “Isn’t that a bit disrespectful? Given this was the King’s palace?”

  “By the time it was torn down it hadn’t been in Royal hands for quite some time: Charles II gave it to his mistress, who pulled it down years later when she needed money to pay off her gambling debts. In any case, there is a delicious circularity about it being recycled. Nonsuch itself was built out of stone and other materials plundered from old monasteries and churches.”

  N’yotsu had started walking across the field. “Illuminating though this conversation is,” he said over his shoulder, “we should get started with our experiments so we can be heading back before nightfall.”

  “Couldn’t agree more, sir,” said Captain Pearce.

  “Maxwell always loved conducting his experiments in the open air,” I said, rubbing my hands together to keep them warm. “Especially when the weather was as crisply inclement as this. It is a shame he could not join us; a bit of fresh air would have done him the power of good.”

  “You are sounding like that infernal doctor,” said N’yotsu. “As you know, the risks would have been too great, especially if Maxwell is correct and this is a centre of demonic activity. If Max were to fall into the demons’ hands, the end of everything would lurch that little bit closer. He is safer where he is, protected by the army and my spells.”

  “You don’t like that doctor much, do you?” asked Kate.

  “There is something about him that intensely irritates me,” said N’yotsu. “While I do not doubt his abilities, he has a manner that is annoyingly familiar.”

  “In what way?”

  “That is part of the problem: I do not know.” He stopped and hammered his heel into the ground. “Shall we take our first readings here?”

  The day crept by with the monotony of the scientific experiment, with dials adjusted and nonsensical numbers and letters scrawled on pieces of paper. The soldiers and I occupied our
selves with lugging about the equipment as ordered and keeping an eye out for anything untoward.

  The afternoon was rapidly waning as we finished the last of the readings and packed up, getting ready to head back to our transport. As our carriage came into view over the hill I had a profound feeling of something not being quite right, a tension in my temples and a quickening of my heart rate akin to that which usually indicated a nearby demonic presence. I looked to N’yotsu, who was glancing around intently, clearly having sensed the same as me.

  “Captain,” I said. “We need to leave very quickly. Something is not right.”

  Pearce nodded, having learnt some time ago to trust in our intuitions, and sent a handful of soldiers ahead to the carriages to ensure that they were fully secured.

  I drew my sword and turned slowly as I walked, scanning the horizon for any sign of activity. I grew more and more tense as we continued to be faced with nothing other than fields, sheep and the occasional tree.

  They attacked when we were mid-way through securing the equipment onto the wagon, 20 demons seeming to materialise out of thin air with Gaap at their head. Captain Pearce barked orders at his soldiers as N’yotsu and I ran grimly towards the demons.

  Gaap pointed a scimitar at us. “Hail the Four Kings!” he shouted, a cry that was echoed by the others.

  N’yotsu met Gaap head on, while I ran into the midst of the demons to his side, swinging my sword and screaming wordlessly as I advanced. Dimly in the distance, through a deepening red haze, I could hear the crack of rifles as Pearce’s men sent a hail of lead into our attackers’ other flank.

  My sword swirled, an angry red and silver wall of enchanted steel that cut through those around me as though they were stalks of wheat before a scythe. The red mist had descended on my world, a swirling concoction of rage that had only one focus: the destruction of all those around me.