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

by Peter Oxley

  Bang! Bang!

  I groaned as the noise continued with no regard for the effect that it was having on my already tender head. I buried myself under the bolster in the hope that everything would go away and leave me alone.

  Bang-bang-bang!

  I swam back to consciousness slowly and reluctantly through a thick fog. It is all too hard, a dim part of me whimpered. Just drift off again; the noise will stop. Eventually.

  Bang!

  It did not show any sign of abating.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!

  “All right,” I croaked. Then, louder: “All right, I’m coming.” I winced as the sound of my voice reverberated around my skull. Just what had I been drinking last night?

  I levered myself out of bed and looked around. I did not recognise the room. “Must have been quite a night,” I muttered to myself.

  Having located the door, I staggered over after having reassured myself that I was fully dressed. Everything spun around me and I leaned on the wall for support before finally grasping the doorknob.

  Kate and Byron stood there, staring at me with concern. “We heard you were back,” Kate said.

  I frowned, rubbing my head. “Apparently so,” I muttered. “From where, exactly?”

  “You don’t remember?” Byron asked.

  Kate shot him a look. “I thought that was the whole point of a forgetfulness spell?”

  He tutted in reply. “Well, yes, but I just wanted to check.”

  “Wait,” I said, my brain slowly catching up with my ears. “A forgetfulness spell? Why? What did you do?”

  “Come with us,” said Byron. “Now we’re all back together we can have a proper debriefing.”

  I hesitated, feeling the strong pull of my bed.

  “There’s food,” said Kate. “And plenty to drink.”

  This decided me and I followed them out of my room, along a corridor and down a grand staircase. “Where are we?” I asked, squinting at the fine decor and overly bright windows.

  “Hughenden,” said Byron. “Mr Disraeli kindly allowed us to recuperate here after our ordeal.”

  They led me to the main dining room, where an impressive spread had been laid out. N’yotsu, Pearce, Joshua and Disraeli were seated around the table, whilst Maxwell was off to one side, his nose stuck in a large, leather-bound book.

  They all greeted me in an overly enthusiastic manner, as though we had not seen each other for months. I grunted, shook hands and generally did the minimum necessary to allow me to negotiate my way to the food, accepting a cup of tea from the maidservant in attendance and asking her to leave the pot by my place.

  “How are you?” asked Disraeli as I grabbed at the bread.

  “Fine,” I said suspiciously, scratching at my chin and shocked to find a large amount of beard growth on my face. I ran my fingers over my cheeks and chin: there was at least a month’s worth of facial hair there. Which surely was not possible, as I had shaved just the previous morning. “What the…?”

  “Fascinating,” muttered Maxwell, watching me closely.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t want any long-winded explanations or theories,” I warned them all in a steady voice. “I just want the truth, as quickly and in as few short words as possible: what have you done to me?”

  “What is the last thing you remember?” asked N’yotsu. He held up a hand as I started to bridle. “Please, humour me: this is relevant.”

  I frowned. “I was with you all in the aftermath of the battle. Andras had just disappeared through the portal with Belial and the other demons and then…” I caught myself subconsciously running my fingers through my new beard. “We must have gone on to celebrate, although I don’t remember where or for how long. Whatever I drank, I’m not having it again.”

  They shared a grin. “I am sorry to advise that what you are feeling is not due to alcohol,” said N’yotsu, “at least not all of it and certainly not the memory loss.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Kate, throwing herself into the seat next to mine, “we’ve all felt it. You were just the last one to get back, that’s all.”

  I drained my teacup and refilled it, considering whether I would in fact need something stronger. “Get back from where?”

  “You remember the five runes?” asked N’yotsu. “How when they are united they grant ultimate power to the bearer? Well, I would not allow such power to be wielded ever again and so I decided that the runes should be split apart once more.”

  I looked at Disraeli, considering what the British Empire would have done with such an advantage. “You were happy with this plan of action?” I asked.

  “I was not consulted,” he said sternly. “Something that was probably for the best. Regardless, I believe the outcome is the correct one.”

  “You, Byron, Joshua, Pearce and Kate were each given one of the runes and sent to the furthest reaches of the known realms to hide them,” continued N’yotsu. “Before you embarked on your journeys, you were subjected to spells of forgetfulness. These ensure that you cannot remember where you took the runes.”

  I rubbed at my increasingly throbbing head. “Which explains why I cannot remember a thing,” I said. A sudden thought occurred. “My sword.”

  “…was the rune you took and hid,” said Byron. “You agreed that it was too dangerous to remain in your hands, given that everyone now knows what it really is.”

  “Why would I do a damn fool thing like that?” I asked, my voice rising in panic. I felt my breaths starting to come in short, sharp bursts as though something was squeezing me.

  “It was the right thing to do,” said N’yotsu.

  Kate put a hand on my arm. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” I said. “I am the very opposite of ‘all right.’ I have just given up the one thing that gave me my powers, the thing that created me, made me what I am. Without it…” I looked at Byron. “What becomes of me?”

  “The changes the sword made are permanent,” he said. “You are part-demon, part-human, remember? Just because it is not at your side, that does not change anything.”

  “As far as we know,” chipped in Maxwell, my very own Job’s comforter. “We will need to keep you under close observation to ensure there are no other ill-effects aside from the withdrawal symptoms that you seem to be currently experiencing.”

  Kate glared at him. “We’re sure you’ll be fine, and if not you’ve got your own little gang of geniuses right here to help you, yeah?” This last word was directed forcefully in Maxwell’s direction.

  “Yes, yes of course,” he muttered.

  “But the strength and speed it lent me,” I protested. “And I can only really fight with that sword; all others just feel clumsy in compar—”

  “Then it’s about time you learnt how to fight without it,” said Pearce with a tight smile. “But I’m not sure there will be as much call for that as there was before.”

  “Indeed,” said Disraeli. “The Almadites are vanquished, banished to that other place—”

  “The Druj,” offered N’yotsu.

  “Yes, there. Those who were not involved in the invasion are now preoccupied in other ways, I understand?”

  “Indeed they are,” said N’yotsu. “The Slaves and Workers have risen up, with a little help and encouragement from yours truly. Well, I had to do something to keep myself busy while you were all off gallivanting around the Aether or wherever it was you went.”

  “You did not help us distribute the runes?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Too risky. I still have too much of Andras inside me.”

  “Not even Andras trusts Andras,” noted Kate with a wry grin.

  “Regardless,” said Disraeli. “We find ourselves in a new world. The likes of Maxwell now have a whole new set of physical laws to attempt to understand, given that the old ones no longer apply.”

  Maxwell grunted. “I have already made some interesting insights into the nature of the magic that now pervades our world, an
d I have some fascinating ideas for power generation. Not to mention the methods of transportation that I created so that you could travel through the Aether on your quests to hide the runes.”

  Disraeli nodded, speaking up quickly before Maxwell bedded into the details of his thoughts. “We have creatures from the Aether travelling here regularly, and some brave adventurers are already setting off to other realms to make their fortunes. There is much to be done, but I foresee a new age of peace and prosperity. That is worth a toast, do you not think?”

  Everyone round the table raised their drinks, glasses and cups to join him in his toast, to a new world, a world of opportunity. I tried to ignore the hollow feeling inside as I followed suit, the sensation that in losing my sword, I had lost a vital part of myself as well.

  THE END

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  Thank you so much – you’re awesome, each and every one of you!

  Pete

  Coming Soon...

  From the universe of The Infernal Aether:

  The Great Big Demon Hunting Agency

  London, 1869

  When the city’s most incompetent crooks, Spencer and Bart, are released from prison one last time, they decide to finally go straight. However, the only thing they any good at is dealing with (i.e. running away from) demons.

  Setting up The Great Big Demon Hunting Agency as a way of separating the upper classes from their money, they are surprised to be approached by an actual client—a young aristocrat who believes her husband plans to have her possessed by a demon.

  While Spencer is only interested in quick and easy money and keeping as far away from trouble as possible, Bart becomes increasingly besotted by their client and leads them into doing the one thing Spencer never wanted: solve the case, battle the demon and save the girl.

  The Great Big Demon Hunting Agency is the latest novel from the universe of The Infernal Aether. If you like loveable rogues, desperate scrapes and terrifying demons, then you’ll love The Great Big Demon Hunting Agency —coming to a bookstore near you in Autumn 2017.

  Click below to join my readers’ group and be the first to get your copy:

  Peteroxleyauthor.com/aether

  Acknowledgments

  There are so many people without whom this book would not have been possible.

  Thanks to Ben Way, editor extraordinaire, whose input was invaluable in helping to craft the original draft into the book you hold in your hands. Also to Kristina Pavlovic, who has provided the cover art throughout this series, never ceasing to amaze me with her imaginative and beautiful interpretations of my unstructured thoughts.

  Thanks to my team of beta readers, who provided such valuable feedback on the initial draft: Andreas Rausch, Alison Belding, Ami Agner, Glenn Bordereaux, Joe Brennan and, of course, Jessica Oxley.

  All errors and omissions which remain are, of course, my own.

  A huge thank you also to my fantastic Launch Team: Alan D. McDonald, Alina Hart, Ami Agner, Angela Bishop, cerealkller72, Christina Bartlett, Chrystal Lee Stevens, Glenn Bordereaux, Inger L Tucker, jaws_8888, Jef Ball, Mark Taylor, maxima2365, Patty Freeman, Rita Wheeler, rrleejk, Scott Dauman, Sheila Arnold, silverraven264, Susan Beck, TE Lawrence, TE Lawrence, xocmij.

  Author’s Note

  The beauty of writing about historical situations is that you get to delve into worlds which have been long-forgotten, live amongst the people there, marvel at how different things were (as well as how similar) and bring them to life for a new generation (or generations).

  This sense of joy and wonder is amplified even more for the historical fantasy author, who also gets to create new worlds and fantastical creatures to play in.

  This series started very much rooted in the late nineteenth century (1865, to be precise) and where possible I’ve tried to stick to the historical facts of the time in terms of geography and people. However, as you’ll have noticed if you’ve got this far, certainly by the start of this novel (indeed, by three-quarters of the way through The Infernal Aether), I have troubled myself less and less with historical accuracy – after all, once you start to throw demons, spirits, golems, alternative dimensions and the like into the mix, I figure that people will forgive me for making stuff up…!

  However, some bits of history are reasonably accurate.

  Benjamin Disraeli certainly did say most of the more quotable lines he says in this book, and his animosity towards his rival Gladstone was very real. Of course, I’ve possibly been a bit unfair to Gladstone in this book, mainly because we’ve seen everything from the side of Disraeli and his friends. But again I figure that you will forgive me, as this is a work of alternative history/fantasy, rather than a political biography!

  Many of the places quoted did and do exist, from the site at St Albans (although there’s no Fulcrum that I’m aware of) to the Tower of London, Disraeli’s pad at Hughenden House, and many more.

  It won’t surprise you to learn that Almadel is a figment of my imagination, inspired in part by the artwork in the 2000AD comic strips Nemesis the Warlock, which imagined a hellish future Earth known as Termight. Indeed, it was the Nemesis series The Gothic Empire which gave me, as an impressionable teenager, my first real taste of modern steampunk and inspired the ideas which were to grow into The Infernal Aether.

  Will our heroes ride again? It has always been my intention to tie together in a trilogy the main story arcs which I started in the first book (although, with the addition of the novella A Christmas Aether, it’s actually a trilogy in four parts, which pleases the Douglas Adams fan in me no end…!). But there are still plenty of stories to be told in this new world created by the Aether. If nothing else, surely Gus won’t allow me to keep him parted from the runic sword for too long–and if he succeeds, then…?

  I also have plans for other, minor characters to play a larger role in future stories–so do watch this space!

  You can hear about all future releases by joining my readers’ group at peteroxleyauthor.com/aether–and you can get a free copy of A Christmas Aether into the bargain!

  About the Author

  Peter Oxley is a writer, consultant and coach who lives in the English Home Counties. He enjoys reading and writing in a wide range of areas but his main passions are sci-fi, fantasy, historical fiction and steampunk.

  His influences include HG Wells, Charles Dickens, Neil Gaiman, KW Jeter, Scott Lynch, Clive Barker, Pat Mills and Joss Whedon.

  He is the author of The Infernal Aether, A Christmas Aether and The Demon Inside.

  He is also the author of the nonfiction book: The Wedding Speech Manual: The Complete Guide to Preparing, Writing and Performing Your Wedding Speech.

  He lives with his wife, two young sons and a slowly growing guitar collection. Aside from writing and willingly speaking in front of large crowds of strangers, Pete spends his spare time playing music badly, supporting football teams that play badly, and writing about himself in the third person.

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