by Peter Oxley
“No,” said Joshua. “At one point, Maxwell hypothesised that the Aether was the spirit world, but that is not quite accurate. Some unfortunate spirits get trapped in the Aether, but that is not the same as the spirit world itself.” He swept an arm around us. “No. This is the actual afterlife, where all our mortal souls will find their final resting place.”
“What?” Byron, Pearce and I shouted together.
I straightened up and peered out of the Juggernaut. We were perched in the middle of a grey wasteland, a featureless expanse that stretched all around us. A sickly wind plucked at my skin, carrying with it a faint odour of decay. I looked up at what first seemed to be a night sky, but the longer I gazed at it the stronger the feeling grew that I was in fact staring into a void. However, this was more than the blackness of space that we were accustomed to seeing in our own night sky. Instead it was an all-pervading emptiness: devoid of clouds, stars or any form of celestial bodies. It was even more than the blankness of the Aether, for that was populated with the mist and the creatures that dwelt there and bounded by the various realms, of which ours was just one. My mind swirled as I looked up into a blankness beyond human comprehension, for I instinctively wanted to populate it and build walls in and around that emptiness. It was not just that I could not see anything above us: there was simply nothing there to see, ever. I couldn’t tell if it ended 10 feet above my head or stretched on to the far reaches of outer space.
I shivered as I tore my eyes from the darkness above and the desert around us, back to the comparative warmth of the Juggernaut’s small cabin.
“How did you even manage to do this?” Byron asked, looking around. “Are you sure? You do not have the power to be able to achieve such a thing. No one does.”
“I always thought so too,” grinned Joshua. “But Andras showed me…”
I rounded on Andras. “You,” I snarled. “I knew your pretence at being on our side was too good to be true. What fiendish scheme is this?”
Andras held up one hand, the other still engaged in pinning Gaap’s neck firmly against the side of the Juggernaut’s footwell. “I mean no ill feeling. Please do not doubt my bona fides,” he said.
“We need to go back to Earth right now,” said Pearce, a steely edge in his voice that I fancied could cut through stone. “Kate needs urgent medical attention.”
I was still glaring at Andras. “You have not changed, have you?” I said, the anger rising in me. “All this time you have been cultivating Joshua, moulding him to your own ends.”
Andras shook his head. “You wanted to save Kate. Taking her straight back to your realm would just doom her, and all of you for that matter.”
“Explain.”
“She has been infected,” said Andras in a low voice. “There is a Wraith in her, slowly turning her inside out. If it is allowed to continue unchecked then… well, there would not be a Kate to rescue. Instead, you would have a Mage on your hands, and you really don’t want that.”
I looked at Kate’s inert form lying cradled in Pearce’s arms. I shuddered involuntarily as I remembered the Mage we met all those months ago and how it had wormed its way into my head, at first commanding me to kill my friend and then, once that was done, to kill myself. I could still feel the cold firmness of its touch inside my mind as it took control over every aspect of me, forcing my body to do the one thing that is most alien to any living body: to shut down completely.
“But surely Kate would not…” I attempted.
Andras shook his head. “Once the Wraith finishes its work, there won’t be anything left of the person you once knew, or even anything human at all. I am assuming, of course, that there is still enough of Kate remaining in that body to rescue.”
We glared at him, the silence broken only by a strangled cackle from Gaap as he wriggled to gain a degree of release from Andras’ grip on his neck. “You fools,” he crowed in a choked voice. “We will all die here in the Druj; you will kill us all…”
Andras shook his head and, in an almost offhand manner, pulled Gaap up before slamming the demon’s head hard against the metal interior of the Juggernaut. He released his grip, allowing Gaap’s unconscious body to slide to the floor as the sound of the impact echoed around us.
I could not help but nod my relief at Gaap’s incapacitation, although Andras’ keenness to silence him raised my suspicious. “He mentioned that word when we first arrived: the Druj. What does that mean?”
Andras straightened up and wiped his hands, as though he had just completed a messy piece of housework. “He is mistaken. The Druj is the Almadite equivalent of what you would term limbo, somewhere beyond even the afterlife. It is where gods go to die. Somewhere you would never wish to venture.”
“So not here then?” I asked.
“Definitely not here,” said Andras. “It would require much greater power than even Joshua has at his disposal right now.”
I frowned at him. He seemed to be keeping too many things far too close to his chest for my liking.
“How do we cure Kate, then?” asked Pearce, bringing the subject back to the matter at hand before I could ask any more questions.
“That is if you really are telling us the truth,” I commented tartly.
“Oh come now, Gus,” snapped Andras. “I appreciate that I have not been the most reliable ally in the world, but it is time for you to stop this self-indulgent whining.” He held up a hand to prevent my outraged response. “We need to act before this here,” he gestured at Kate, “becomes a Mage. You of all people will know how disastrously that turn of events will work out for us all.” I struggled to find a suitable retort, settling for fixing my steeliest glare on him.
“The process of creating a Mage is commonly believed to be irreversible,” continued Andras, “however, Mama did tell me of one way that a cure can be achieved; or at least, how we can expel the Wraith from her body.”
“And that is why we are here,” said Joshua.
“How did you get involved in Andras’ plans?” Byron asked him. “I do not recall you two having any conferences.”
“The vision in the Citadel,” Joshua replied. “At the end, as you all were making your way back to reality, Mama, Andras and I were together. They told me what I needed to do—to get the Juggernaut and bring us all to the afterlife.”
“And this is where your cure is?” Pearce asked Andras.
“Once a Wraith has taken residence, no mortal means can be used to expel it,” said Andras. “Therefore, we needed to come somewhere decidedly not mortal. Mama told us of a resident here who has the power to be able to expel the demon.”
“Take us there,” said Pearce. “Now.”
“Of course,” said Andras. “First of all, we need to make sure that our friend Gaap here does not cause any mischief.” He rummaged in an inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a length of chain and a hank of rope.
I frowned in surprise. “Where did all of that come from?” I asked.
He blinked at me. “My pockets. Why: what do you keep in yours?” He bent over Gaap and proceeded to truss the demon up, securing his arms to his body but leaving his legs free. I winced as I watched Andras pull the bindings so tight that it seemed to verge on the tortuous. I would have felt sorry for the prisoner, were it not for the fact of who he was and what he represented. As a final flourish, Andras wound a rope around the demon’s mouth to form a gag, leaving a length dangling free to serve as a leash.
“Are we safe with that fiend?” asked Byron.
Andras laughed. “We are not safe here, with or without Gaap. In any case, all of this is merely a precaution. Gaap cannot escape here without us and he would not want to risk being trapped in this place.
“Why did you bring him anyway?” asked Byron.
“You know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
“Then what does that make us?”
Andras grinned and tapped a clawed finger to his nose. “Now, a few ground rules. You are al
l still wearing the trinkets I gave you prior to entering Almadel, yes? Good. They are even more important here: the sights in this realm would not just drive you insane. If you were to glimpse this place in all of its glory then the shock would kill you. Literally. On the spot.”
I opened my mouth and, in answer to my unasked question, Andras held out a similar amulet that was now around his own neck. “There are sights here that no living creature should ever bear witness to,” he said, “no matter how powerful they are.” He examined his pocket watch. “There is a limit to the amount of time that we can safely spend here: too long and no amounts of magic would be able to spirit us back home. Or at least, not without consequences.”
“How long?” asked Pearce.
“Time as you know it is without meaning here. Suffice to say that we should make haste.” He gave Gaap a swift clout across the side of his head and the demon’s eyes flashed open, muffled grunts emanating from behind his makeshift gag as he struggled against his bindings. Andras pulled on the rope leash, forcing Gaap to his feet. “You have a choice,” Andras said to him. “Come along with us, do not cause any trouble, and you stand a chance of getting back to the land of the living at some point. Otherwise, we will just leave you here.”
Gaap glared pure venom back at him.
“Good boy,” grinned Andras, turning and stepping down to the ground, landing on the dirt with a muffled thud. Yanked along by his leash, Gaap was pulled out of the vehicle after him, landing in a heap on the floor. Andras did not bother to hide the pleasure on his face as he watched him writhe his way back upright. “Oh, and one last thing,” said Andras, addressing us once again. “Probably the most important: do not under any circumstances eat or drink anything from here. Do not accept food or liquids, no matter how much you may think you need it or how tempting it looks.”
“What happens if we do?” I asked, suddenly developing a thirst.
“You will be trapped here forever,” he said simply. “Otherwise known as dying in a very irreversible way.” He started off towards the featureless horizon without checking whether we were following.
It took a great effort of will to follow Andras and Gaap away from the sanctuary of the Juggernaut but, emboldened by each other’s presence, we proceeded cautiously. I could not shake off an intense feeling of dread and despair, as though every breath spent in that place was drawing me closer to my grave. Everything around us was muffled, and as a result I wondered if I was losing the use of my faculties.
My mental state was further impaired by the looming vast nothingness above our heads; I had never before realised how much I had been reassured by the existence of something above me, even just a cloud, the colours in the sky or even a distant star. The void in this place pressed down on me, making me question the point of anything and everything. Worse than that: it seemed hungry, sucking the energy, life and hope out of anything and everything beneath it.
I tried to distract myself by focusing my attention on what passed for the land around us. At first I had despaired at the futility of our trek as I regarded that unending bleakness: surely it would take us forever to reach any form of civilisation—or whatever passed for such a concept in that godforsaken place.
We had, though, been walking for only a few moments when the landscape shifted to reveal features and objects around us, as though they were rising out of a thick fog. From the blank desolation my fevered mind perceived a graveyard melting into existence, row after row of old, lichen-covered slabs.
Once again I found my focus drawn up to the sky, a blank expanse that oppressed us and made everything seem utterly pointless, ready to suck us all into oblivion.
No. Focus on the gravestones. Never had such a sight seemed so welcoming to me. I noticed that the scene stretched out to the horizon, punctuated by the occasional mausoleum. There was no church in that godless place, for to accept the existence of God was to accept the existence of hope.
I remarked on the environment to Byron, who grunted. “The effects of the amulet on your senses, no doubt: acclimatising to everything around us and painting a picture for you to comprehend whilst remaining sane.”
“Interesting,” I breathed, forcing my curiosity to overcome the barely-contained panic caused by the unasked question that my mind screamed at me: What about the sky??
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “So we each have different experiences here, then. What do you see?”
Byron shook his head. “Best we do not confuse ourselves with each other’s perceptions. If I tell you I can see a thing at odds with your own vision, it could make you question your own senses and as a result the amulet might stop working. Just accept what you see, for the sake of your sanity if nothing else.”
I nodded, reluctantly. “But I see gravestones and a mausoleum around us.”
Byron shrugged, as though every word was a struggle in that place.
“If we are in the afterlife, the place where dead souls go, then why do I see gravestones?”
“Just as in Almadel, all that you experience here is a direct result of your own perceptions, combined with the powers of the pendant around your neck. If you see a graveyard then that must be how you expect the afterlife to appear, maybe?”
I frowned. “I know I’m not the best Christian—” in response to Byron’s knowing sideways glance, I added: “Or any form of Christian whatsoever, but I would have hoped that at least my imagination would have conjured up somewhere a mite more… heavenly than this.”
Byron snorted weakly. “Expecting to go to Heaven, are we?”
I gestured around us. “Even Hell is surely more interesting and less barren than this place?”
I looked over at Pearce who was carrying Kate over his shoulder, eyes fixed firmly on Andras’ back as though he were expecting or even hoping that the demon would betray us at any moment.
“How about I carry her for a while?” I asked, moving over to him. “Give you a rest.”
“No,” he said. “I am fine. She is no burden.” His steely tone of voice did not welcome any further offer.
Instead, I turned to Joshua. He was more alert and—dare I say it?—more cheerful than I had seen him in a long time. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Quite a feat, as I understand it, managing to bring us here.”
“Indeed it is,” he said with a smile. “The final frontier. I never really believed that I could reach this place.”
“No,” said Byron, an edge to his voice. “You should not have been able to.”
“And yet here we are.” He turned to me, his eyes glinting. “It is such a shame that Maxwell cannot be here with us: he would relish the opportunity to explore this strange place.”
“I believe you are right,” I said, imagining him setting up experiment after experiment, heedless of the need to hurry or leave. I felt a shock of amusement tinged with fear at the thought. In my mind’s eye I could see the arguments we would have, the near-misses as we rushed to escape before we were trapped there forever.
While I had been thinking my eyes had once more been drawn to the blankness overhead. I cursed. Why did the amulet not allow me to imagine something comforting up there, like a sunset or even storm clouds? Anything but that void.
I tore my eyes back to Joshua’s eager face. “You seem rather… invigorated,” I noted. “Given the circumstances but also… aren’t you normally drained after working your magic?”
He raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips as though he had not even considered such a thing until that moment. “Usually I am, yes. Although since I rescued you all in the Juggernaut I have felt almost like I have untapped an unfathomable well of energy available to me.” He shrugged. “I suppose it must be the adrenaline of the situation.”
“No,” said Byron. “That’s not quite it, is it Andras?”
The other demon turned and smiled, effecting a show of innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Bringing us here is something that should not be possible, no matter how
strong Joshua has become. Only the old gods had the power to perform such a feat, and steps were taken many millennia ago to ensure that such abilities were kept beyond the reach of anyone.”
Andras held up a hand and pointed. “We wait there,” he said, pointing to a squat building just ahead of us. “There will be time to talk later.”
We followed him towards what appeared to be (to my eyes at least) a mausoleum, a rectangular stone structure cornered by thick round Greco-Roman-style pillars. The building had the appearance of being weathered by wind and rain in spite of there being a distinct lack of anything approximating the elements in that place. A large statue of a mournful-looking angel mounted the front of the building, casting sorrowful eyes over a pair of imposing doors carved into the face of the stonework.
“Does anyone else think it strange that we have not encountered anyone here yet?” I asked. “If this is the afterlife, should it not be teeming with the souls of the departed?”
Andras clicked his fingers and pointed at me. “Excellent point. For once you have been paying attention, Mr Potts.” He tied Gaap’s leash to a steel hoop inlaid in the base of the mausoleum. “The reason we have not seen anyone else, or indeed anything, yet is because they are still sizing us up, trying to determine whether we are a threat or a snack.”
I shivered. “What now?” I asked.
He pointed to the roof of the mausoleum. “We wait up there.”
“And do what?” asked Pearce.
“Wait for them to come out.”
“Why would they do that?”
Andras jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Gaap. “Because we have brought along bait.”
At first there was nothing, and I could tell that my exasperation was shared by the others. I glanced over at Kate’s body. Most of the time she appeared to be sleeping, but every once in a while she would jerk and twist, the outward signs of whatever hideous battle was being waged within. We knew that every minute was precious, and yet we had no choice but to sit and wait out whatever scheme Andras had in mind.