by Peter Oxley
Time ceased to have any meaning, my progress marked only by the swing of my blade and the thud of bodies and body parts as they hit the ground at my feet. There was no counting the numbers I had slain, my instincts were now too base to allow anything as complex as thought processes. Instead I shouted with each swing, hoping that that would suffice.
I revelled in the destruction, marvelling at my powers and the ease with which I cut through the creatures. At the back of my head, a dim part of me questioned: This is too easy, surely? but the main part of me ignored it, lost in the glory and adrenaline of battle.
As soon as it had begun, it was over. My sword swung round into open air and I looked around to see piles of dismembered demons at my feet. N’yotsu stood a little way away, watching me. He advanced slowly, hands out and saying something in a language that I could not comprehend, words that offended my ears. I roared at this sorcery, the trickery from this fiend, and darted forwards with raised sword.
“Gus?”
Kate’s voice cut through my madness and I jolted to a halt, my vision snapping round to see her staring at me in horror. Beside her, Joshua and Lexie gaped in revulsion. Captain Pearce was holding out his hands and I realised that he was ordering his men not to fire at me.
“…need to calm down, Gus,” N’yotsu was saying. “It is over. You need to calm down.”
I looked down at my hands to see the runic symbols swirling violently across my skin. A hand to my face confirmed my fears: angular bumps sat in stark relief to my otherwise smooth features.
N’yotsu put a hand on my shoulder and I turned, snarling, feeling my teeth jutting forwards in my mouth. What had I become? Without thinking, I thrust him aside and charged off, dimly aware of the shouts as N’yotsu and the others gave chase.
Part Two – Kate
Chapter 12
I hitched up my skirts as I ran after N’yotsu, my lungs burning as I fought to match even half his speed, with Gus—or whatever that thing had been—already a small speck in the distance. After running half the country, or at least that’s the way it bloody well felt, I caught up with N’yotsu who had stopped and was staring into space, hands on hips.
For a moment we stood and panted together, trying to get our breath back.
“No use Kate,” N’yotsu said to me eventually. “Better to follow by horse.”
“He’s quick,” I managed. “How’d he get so damn quick?”
Pearce caught up with us. “Are you all right, Kate?” he asked, reaching out to touch me and then stopping himself at the last moment.
I nodded. “Not me I’m worried about,” I said. “What’s happened to Gus? That was Gus, right?”
N’yotsu pulled a face. “Yes, that’s Gus. I think we have a few things to explain to you.”
I felt my cheeks redden as the pieces started to slot into place: the whisperings behind closed doors, the sudden injuries the other week. “I’d say you do. This ain’t no surprise to you, is it?” Guilt was written all over his face, like a dipper caught with his hand in a gent’s pocket, and that made me even madder. “This has happened before, hasn’t it? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Let’s get in the carriage and then we can talk,” said Pearce, ever the diplomat. “He was heading towards London, would you agree?”
“Absolutely,” said N’yotsu, clearly glad of the distraction. “If I am not mistaken, assuming he carries on heading towards the city, then the nearest crossing of the Thames is Fulham Bridge.” As they talked I fixed N’yotsu with my hardest stare, just to let him know that he was nowhere near off the hook.
He tried to get on horseback, using some flimsy excuse of having better eyesight than the soldiers, but I steered him into the carriage. Lexie and Joshua followed and I thought about turning them away as I wanted to beat the truth out of N’yotsu on my own, without witnesses. But there was nowhere else for the kids to go, so I allowed them to sit back and watch.
“Speak,” I said.
“Really, Kate,” he said, “the priority is to find Gus, and I would be much better placed to—”
“Speak,” I said again. “When I’m happy you’ve told me everything—and I mean everything—then you can go back to your friends out there.”
He sighed and gave in, as I knew he would. “Very well. That was indeed Gus, and those changes have happened to him before.” He looked at me as though that was enough, and I raised my eyebrows threateningly at him. “I don’t know when the first time was,” he continued, “but I know that the cause of the changes is the runic sword.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Of course!” blurted Joshua. “I noticed that the runic symbols were really powerful—those symbols that Mr Potts allowed me to examine in any case—and it makes sense that they would not only influence the weapon but also the bearer…”
He tailed off as he realised that I was glaring at him for getting in the middle of my interrogation. “I’m glad you find this so damn fascinating,” I said. “But I’m more interested in what’s happened and how I get my friend back.” I turned back to N’yotsu. “Carry on. What do you mean about the sword?”
He cleared his throat, looking a bit confused. “Just what Joshua said, actually: the runic symbols are immensely powerful, turning an ordinary steel sword into something a lot stronger and more powerful than it should be. However, the spells that give the sword its power have also… infected Gus.”
“Infected?” I asked. “What, like a disease?”
“In a way, yes. At first it seemed beneficial, making him more powerful and faster than the demons. You must have noticed that?”
“Well, yes, but I thought that was just the magic sword doing its magical stuff. I never thought it was really Gus…” I frowned, thinking back to all the times I’d seen Gus fight. Had it been right there under my nose all that time and I’d just not noticed? How could I not have realised?
“And you were right,” said N’yotsu. “But over time it became apparent that the changes weren’t just limited to the sword. The runic spells are powerful, but they are also demonic. And when you cast such a spell over a human, the results are—”
“Geezer turns into demon,” I said. “So why didn’t he just stop using the sword?”
“We asked him to, ordered him, begged him,” said N’yotsu. “But you know how stubborn Gus is. And he seems almost addicted to it. After a while, the changes were so embedded in his body that there was no real point in him stopping using the sword, however much he wanted to.”
In a flash I remembered last Christmas, when Gus and I had both been trapped in the cellar of a run-down house in the slums of St Giles, waiting for the demons holding us prisoner to do their worst. He’d been under the influence of booze and God knows what else, and been ranting and raving when I found him, talking about dreams and stuff that was happening to him. When it was time to escape, he’d really not wanted to get his sword back, even though we needed him at full strength. At the time I’d assumed it was just him coming down from the effects of the laudanum and cheap gin, but what if…
“Hang on a minute,” I said. “You made that sword for him. I remember: it was you that made the demonic spells which make it all powerful and stuff.”
He looked down at his feet and the vision of a naughty schoolboy was complete. “I know. And not a moment goes by that I don’t regret it. But it was done when I was firmly under the influence of Andras, before I managed to free myself, and the whole world, from his malig—”
“All right,” I interrupted before he could lapse into another self-pitying speech. He looked up and as our eyes met I searched for something that would tell me the real truth. I believed everything he’d said so far but there was something else, something that didn’t quite make sense—I wasn’t being told the whole story. “I’m not going to ask what Andras would want out of turning one of us into a demon,” I said, thinking aloud, “as that’s the kind of nasty trick he’d get a thrill out of. But why didn’t Gus
tell me?”
“He didn’t want anyone to know,” he said. “He was worried about what people would think, or what they would do. So we worked on finding a cure, a way of purging the demonic changes from his body. And Maxwell really thought he—”
“Wait,” I said. “Maxwell knew as well?”
“Well, yes: they are brothers.”
“Yes, but Max tells me everything.” I felt as though the world was spinning around me, that I had been the butt of a secret joke that everyone knew the punchline to except me. “Who else knew? Did you two?” I glared at Lexie and Joshua, who shook their heads quickly.
“I promise you,” said Lexie, “we had no idea.”
“What about Pearce?” I asked. “Or the other soldiers?”
“As far as I am aware,” said N’yotsu, “they did not know. Gus did not trust the army’s reaction. For all he knew, they would have had him imprisoned or experimented on or executed.”
“So he didn’t trust the army to not go all demon-hunter on him, I get that. But did he really think I would have…?” I had an overwhelming urge to punch someone. Did he really think I was so thick-headed, so… disloyal, that I wouldn’t have sided with him in a flash?
“Now Kate,” N’yotsu said quietly, “you must know that we never thought for a second that you—”
“Just shut yer sauce-box,” I said. “I don’t need you treating me like a sulky kid. So just you and Max knew about this?”
“And Dr Smith,” he said. When I glared at him he added: “After the accident the other day, we had to tell the doctor what had happened so that he could treat Gus effectively.”
“I knew there was something fishy about what you lot were up to,” I said. “So Max was trying to cure Gus then? And it failed?”
“Quite disastrously, as you saw.”
“Hmm,” I said, biting back the temptation to point out that this was what happened when they cut me out of things. I had plenty more anger to go round, but I wanted to save some for when I saw Max. The important thing was that we found Gus, and for that we needed everyone looking. I banged on the roof with my fist and shouted for the driver to stop.
“What are you doing?” asked N’yotsu.
“We all need to be searching for Gus,” I said. “There’s room up front with the driver.” I pointed to Lexie and Joshua. “It’ll be a squeeze but the three of us should sit up there. Better view from there than sitting back here.”
“What about me?” asked N’yotsu.
“What do you mean?” I glared at him: did he really need me to talk him through everything? “Grab a horse and start looking. Don’t just sit there!” I climbed out before he could ask me any more stupid questions.
Maxwell looked up at me sheepishly as I stormed into the laboratory. In spite of my best efforts, N’yotsu had got there before me and that just made me even more cross.
“Now, Kate, I know what you are going to say,” he said, “but Gus made me—”
“If you know what I’m going to say then you’ll know that I thought we had a deal, I thought we were a team. Turns out there’s two teams here: you lot, and me.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “I really value your—”
“What? Cleaning? Cooking?” I snarled. “Ability to wait on you hand and foot at all hours of the day and night? Have you forgotten about how I’ve always been there for you, even after what that demon did to you, after what he did to me…?” I felt the tight line of the scar on my cheek throbbing angrily in sympathy.
I almost felt sorry for them as they looked at me, but not quite. Even Max—dear, sweet, socially inept Max—seemed to realise just how much they’d upset me, although that didn’t make the pain of being stabbed in the back by my closest friends any easier. I really thought I’d put all that sort of stuff behind me, that I’d finally found some friends who really did care about me and wanted me to belong, count me as one of them. Not like all the other times…
I pushed the thoughts back down. It was always the best thing to do: push away the unpleasant stuff and focus on the everyday, otherwise you’d find yourself drowning in a river of shit. What was important at that moment was that we found Gus. I’d show them how grown-ups behave, and let them suffer through guilt.
“Kate,” said Max. “I am so, so sorry. We never meant to hurt you, we were just doing what we thought was right. I realise we should never have kept this from you, but Gus was adamant that he wanted no one else to know. He cared about what you thought of him, didn’t want you to see him as another one of those—”
“I’ll deal with Gus when we find him,” I said. “And that’s the main thing now, right? Finding him.”
“Or whatever is left of him,” muttered Max.
N’yotsu and I glared at him. “What do you mean?” asked N’yotsu.
“Well, for the changes to have manifested so spontaneously and prominently, and to have not ebbed away, suggests that the demonic part of him may be well advanced. I believe he is fighting a particularly nasty internal civil war and is currently on the losing side. The fact that he has not come back to us tells me that he is still in a demonic form.” He caught the expressions on our faces and held up his hands. “But I am sure that my brother is still in there, somewhere.”
“He is still your brother,” I snapped, clenching my fists to stop me from slapping him across the cheek. “He could have killed N’yotsu out there, could have killed all of us, but he didn’t. And the look on his face…” I remembered the terror and confusion in his eyes: past all the red scales and horns and stuff, he looked like a little boy lost, struck dumb and helpless. My first reaction had been shock and disgust; surely this couldn’t be my friend, the guy I’d fought alongside and laughed with for years? But then I’d seen those eyes and realised there was still a real person stuck in there, and he desperately needed our help.
I put my hand on N’yotsu’s arm as we approached Gus’s apartment and pointed at the soldiers gathering in the street ahead of us. “There’s quite a lot of them for one man, don’t you think?” I said.
“Hmm,” he said. “I don’t suppose this means that they’re intending to have a nice chat with him?”
I spotted Captain Pearce. “Let’s find out,” I said, marching towards our friend and ignoring the soldiers who tried to block our passage.
“Albert,” I shouted as we approached. “What in God’s name is going on? Have you found Gus?”
He gestured frantically with his arm, looking like some strange sort of street entertainer.
“What the Hell does that mean?” I asked.
“I think he wants us to be quiet and go over to him,” said N’yotsu, grabbing my arm.
I allowed him to lead me over and then looked questioningly up at Pearce.
“We are just about to break in,” he said. “I wanted to make sure we had enough back-up in case things got… difficult.”
We looked around. “Looks to me that you may have overdone the welcome party,” said N’yotsu.
“Have you tried knocking?” I asked.
Pearce looked at me as though I were mad. “You saw what he did over at Nonsuch, what he’s capable of.”
“What he did,” I said, “was fight off a load of demons who were trying to kill us. Or did you forget that part?”
“I did not forget. But we need to protect the public against any demonic threats, whatever shape or form they may take.”
“So all those years Gus fought alongside you count for nothing? All it takes is—”
“For him to transform into a slavering, homicidal demon?” he finished. “What has happened in the past does not matter: if he is now a threat then he needs to be dealt with.”
“And what do you mean by ‘dealt with’?” I asked, planting my hands on my hips.
N’yotsu stepped in between us. “Captain Pearce, for the sake of all the times that we have fought together, please let us try to speak with our friend before you wade in with your guns and swords. At least grant us t
hat courtesy. He will not hurt us and, and even if he proves to be uncontrollable you are all here to back us up.”
Pearce looked from N’yotsu to me and back again, and then sighed. “Very well. But at the first sign of trouble we will not hesitate to take decisive action.”
I grinned triumphantly at Pearce and his soldiers as we walked past them and towards the building. N’yotsu knocked on the door and we held our breaths as we strained our ears for sounds from inside. After a few moments of nothing much, I turned to N’yotsu. “Still got a key?” I asked.
He blinked. “Actually, yes I do.” He rummaged in his pockets, frowning. “Do you?”
“Yeah,” I said, “just not with me.” When he looked questioningly at me I held out my skirts and said: “Nowhere to keep it safe.”
After testing a ridiculously large number of keys, he eventually found the right one and pushed the door open, grinning at me.
“If he was in there,” I muttered, “he’d have heard us by now, with all the knocking and rattling and whatnot.”
We searched the apartment even so, but it was clear that Gus had not been there for quite a while; in fact it looked like the last person who’d been there was me when I came to get his belongings while he was recovering from the effects of Max’s experiment. The drawers were neatly closed, something that Gus would never do, especially if he was on the run.
“So what next?” I asked as we left the house and stood outside.
Before they could answer, a soldier on horseback charged through the streets, stopping just in front of us. “Sir,” he said to Pearce, “a demon has been spotted in Fulham. It matches the description of the one you are looking for.”
“Are you sure? Where is it?” asked Pearce.
“It’s apparently drunk and was last seen running away from a whorehouse,” said the soldier, “on the High Street.”