by Oxley, Peter
I pointed at the mound of rubble which stood on the spot where N’yotsu and Andras had been just a few moments beforehand. Before I could say anything, a scrabbling sound emitted from the pile followed by a slow cascade of stones as the rubble shifted to reveal N’yotsu, gripping a stunned Andras.
“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted,” said N’yotsu, and then he began to chant, a rhythmic onslaught of sounds which rose to an ear-splitting crescendo. I shielded my eyes against a sight which threatened to blind me even though there was no actual light; the sheer power of the spell was akin to staring into the sun.
I was knocked to the ground and lay there for a moment, stunned and unfeeling. When I looked back, the two separate forms of Andras and N’yotsu were no more, replaced by a creature which was shaped like a man, but slightly taller and more angular than N’yotsu. I remembered that I was still holding the weapon and raised it, pointing it at the man who in turn started to walk toward me.
“N’yotsu?” I asked. “Is that you?”
The man-creature did not answer, but continued to advance, its features shifting as it walked, the effect not unlike trying to view a person through a waterfall.
“Use it!” shouted Kate. “He’s not disabling the portal. Kill him!”
I wavered. The face which approached took on an aspect not unlike N’yotsu’s and this made me wonder whether the same goodness remained within him. I could not strike him down until I was sure that N’yotsu’s gamble had definitely failed. But then again, this was the perfect opportunity to destroy the creature which had caused all of this agony, the creature which had killed my parents and torn my world apart.
“Use it!” screamed Kate.
The creature stood in front of me and then its eyes shone like the bloodiest fires of Hades. A hideous grin twisted its face as it snatched the weapon from my hands and crushed it. “We will not be needing that,” it snarled. A backhanded blow threw me across the room and the world flashed hotly as I hit the wall, somehow maintaining consciousness although I wished dearly that I had not.
“Never, ever, point a gun at me,” continued the creature. It stood and cast that terrifying glare around the room, daring us to attack.
“Kill the demon,” said Kate to the golem, which in turn started to advance.
Andras—for it could be no other—turned and barked out a word which sounded to my ringing ears and befuddled brain like “Bacharack.” The golem froze.
“I created these things,” said Andras. “Did you really think I would be so stupid as to not build in some form of protection for myself?” He said another series of words, which I did not recognise but guessed were Hebrew in origin. The golem turned jerkily in response to this apparent command and picked Kate up by the arm, swinging her like a rag doll and throwing her against the wall.
Maxwell and I both ran to her aid; unfortunately my path took me directly in front of the golem, a fact which I only noted when it was too late. A massive clay fist descended on me, followed by a flash of red and then all went black.
*
I lay in a warm field, a soft breeze caressing my skin. I could hear a voice calling my name and I knew without seeing them that my parents were there, my parents whom I missed so much. There was another presence close to hand and I knew that she was there, waiting for me as she had always done. My heart ached at the joy I felt washing over me in that wonderful, glorious moment.
With a rising sense of despair I realised that something was not right and that my hold on that wonderful place was as transient as that on a handful of sand. A force pulled at me, tugging me away from the warmth and down toward something altogether less pleasant. I stretched out an arm, trying desperately to retain a hold on that paradise, but it was already too late.
I swam back into consciousness slowly and reluctantly, back to the chamber in the Royal Observatory and beneath the all-seeing-eye which was the portal into the Aether. The ground was hard and unforgiving beneath my back and there was something else, a pain in my side. I opened my eyes to see that my left arm and shoulder were pinned down under a large piece of masonry: placed there, no doubt, by the golem. I strained in an attempt to pull free but merely succeeded in wedging myself tighter. A sharp pain infected my side as my wounded body protested against the further injustices that my struggle was inflicting on it, causing me to grunt aloud. My sword lay on the ground in front of me, just out of reach.
“Ah, the valiant warrior is awake,” said Andras, its voice dripping with sarcasm. I looked up to see the demon standing nearby, next to the golem. The clay creature held Maxwell by his right leg, dangling him upside down with his head suspended a foot or so above the floor. “You two stay quiet over there; I’m trying to speak with young Maxwell.”
I looked across to see Kate’s pale but defiant face on the other side of the stone slab, which clearly held her just as fast as it did me. I focused on the sword and pulled against my bindings with all of the might that I could muster, gritting my teeth against the pain.
“So what do you think?” said Andras to Maxwell. “Unlimited knowledge and power, all of which could be yours. Just join me.”
“I shall never help you,” said Maxwell. “No matter what baubles you dangle before me.” I marvelled at how steady his voice was, in spite of the position in which he found himself.
“But my powers extend far beyond the spiritual and intellectual. For instance, I could give you back the use of your legs.”
“My legs?” said Maxwell, frowning. “But my legs are fine.”
Andras tutted. “Poor Maxwell. So intelligent and yet so…dense.” The demon gestured and the golem grabbed hold of my brother’s knee and twisted as casually as though it were twisting paper. Maxwell screamed as his leg bent sideways with a sickening crack. The golem repeated the gesture with the other leg and then dropped him to the floor where he lay, moaning gently. I wrenched once more at my binding but the stone held fast.
“Stop! Leave him be!” I shouted.
Andras ignored me. “Does it hurt?” asked the demon, squatting in front of Maxwell. “Just think, I can make this all go away. You would never feel pain again. All you need to do is join me and be my right hand.”
“Go…to…Hell,” said Maxwell through gritted teeth.
Andras chuckled, a grisly sound which put me in mind of a cat enjoying the sport of a particularly vigorous mouse. The demon gestured to the sky and the portal above our heads. “I fully intend to; or rather, I will bring Hell to me. No, to all of us; I am nothing if not democratic.” It sighed. “I would offer to save the lives of your brother and the whore,” said Andras, gesturing at us. “But I already have plans for them. No, I have a better idea.” It leant closer to Maxwell and said, in a voice which was low but still carried comfortably to my ears: “I could bring back your parents. Join me, and I shall return life to those two people you miss the most, who were torn so terribly from you when you were so young and so vulnerable. Even better, I can make it so they never died. Think of how wonderful it would be—I could return to you the childhood you lost. In return for one little pact.”
I did not need to see my brother’s face to recognise his torment, for its twin burned within me. Tears ran down my cheek and I felt my whole being tense with the conflict of wanting Maxwell to say “no,” but fearing the opportunity which would be lost by him doing so.
Andras chuckled and stood. “You are tempted. Think on it some more, while I have a little sport.” The demon swaggered toward us. “So, the wastrel or the whore. Which to do first?” It leered at Kate. “You know, I have always had a certain affinity for whores. After all, we both trade in untruths. ‘Of course I love you, Sir.’ ‘You’re the only one for me, Mister...’ So, so delicious, the betrayal of the weak, at the moment when they’re at their weakest. You must have enjoyed it, taking their money and hating them whilst performing the most intimate of acts with them.”
“You come a bit closer and call me a whore one more time,” snarled
Kate. “See what it gets you. That was a long time ago; if you knew anything about me you’d know I’m a different person now.”
Andras waved a clawed hand dismissively. “Once a whore, always a whore. I know everything about you. I know how much it pained your family to know what you’d turned to. Well, your mother and brothers anyway. Father was so happy, was he not? After all, that was what he groomed you to be. His own private plaything. Tell me, did that hurt the most? Or was that the most delicious of all your betrayals?”
“You… monster,” she hissed. I looked away; I could not bear to see the pain that was being inflicted on my friend. She screamed as the demon ran a claw down her cheek, leaving a smoking scar in its wake.
“You will not win, you know,” I said, wanting to draw the attention away from her as I still strained at the rock which held me firm. “I shall enjoy watching you suffer.”
The demon stalked over and squatted down in front of me. “It’s all in here now,” it said, tapping its head with a clawed finger. “I remember everything that the creature you called ‘N’yotsu’ did and said. All of those plans. I have to say, I am not impressed; I was hoping for at least a bit of a challenge.” That leering grin filled my vision. “I mean, really, a construct reuniting with its creator and hoping to take over? Pathetic. Not to mention impossible. But then, N’yotsu knew that all along. You see, I created him too. His desires were really my desires, and vice versa; it could never be anything else.” The demon laughed and straightened up. “How does it feel? The ultimate betrayal!”
“You are lying,” I said.
“I have form for that sort of thing, I grant you,” said Andras. “But there is no benefit to me now in deceit. I have everything I wanted.” The demon pointed to the sky above us, at the hole in reality which loomed ever larger, tendrils of mist exploring, stretching and probing. “You have ringside seats to the end of the world and the beginning of something so much better!”
“And now you are going to kill us?”
“Kill you? Oh no, worse than that.” The demon grabbed my free hand and I recoiled at its harsh touch. With a grin it bent my little finger back until it snapped out of its socket. I screamed, the white hot pain like a fire consuming my hand.
Dimly I was aware of the demon continuing to talk as it moved on to my ring finger. “I’m going to let you live.” My ring finger crunched in a grinding break. Through the terrible pain I was aware of the cold and clammy claw moving on to my next finger. “You are going to see every abuse visited on this world, every torture inflicted on its people.” That finger snapped to the side and dangled uselessly as I willed myself to pass out, but even that mercy was denied me. “And you will live, knowing that you helped create all this.” The demon made short work of my final finger and I heard a low moan; dimly, I was aware that I was the source of the sound. “In fact, I may even make you immortal. Yes that would be fun; an eternity of regret and suffering.” Almost as an afterthought, Andras wrenched my thumb aside and then stood up, its grin still visible to me through a sea of tears.
“We will stop you,” said Kate. “You won’t get away with this.”
Andras laughed. “But, my dear, I already have! And as for you stopping me, I have ways of making sure that that vanishingly small risk will never come to pass. Very, very inventive ways.” It clapped its hands. “Oh, yes, this will be fun. But first…” It pointed a finger at my chest.
I gasped as a fresh agony hit me, the bottom falling out of my existence, layer after layer of my life being ripped from me. My earliest memories were dangled in front of me and then torn away, with a pain which was as pronounced as each of my useless, broken fingers.
Those terrible eyes flashed at me. “Last night you spoke with Kate while N’yotsu worked on that pathetic weapon with your brother. You asked her what your role was in your rag-tag band. The she-warrior, the inventor, the half-demon. But what of poor little Augustus?”
Andras grinned. “I have your answer. You are the humanity; the stupid, weak, flawed humanity. You had the opportunity to kill me when you had that toy pointed at me just a few moments ago, and yet you could not. Your conscience would not allow it. You can see why I was so keen to divest myself of such weaknesses; the burden of such things are nothing more than distractions, irrelevances which get in the way of achieving true greatness. Like this.” A clawed hand pointed to the heavens. “Many lifetimes of planning have now come to fruition. Who would have known that it would be little Augustus who was to be my biggest help?”
Every word stung me, as I knew the demon intended. The Aether loomed large over our heads and I knew that I truly had nothing left to lose. I blinked away the tears and looked the demon in the eye, a small part of me marvelling at the reserves of courage which I was tapping into, reserves which I had never realised existed.
However, Andras was not yet done with its taunts, picking up my sword and turning it admiringly. “Quite the beautiful thing, is it not? It is quite remarkable how the insertion of some simple runic symbols can transform the temporal into the demonic.” The sword was pointed at me and I almost fancied I felt it straining against Andras’s clawed grip, desperate to return to me. “So this is a demonic sword. I wonder; what sort of creature would such a sword willingly surrender to?” Andras turned that terrible grin on me. “You see, there is hope for you yet, little Augustus. You may have always been the humanity, but you can be so much more. And will.” The demon danced a little jig, a sight which might have been comedic but for the situation we found ourselves in. “Sometimes I astound myself with my own ingenuity. Poor little Gus; you were once the pathetic humanity, now you don’t even have that crutch to hang on to.”
I felt a deep surge of rage at the creature’s words, of which I understood only enough to know that it meant yet more mischief. I looked down at my trapped arm and noted that it burned with the red symbols which I had fleetingly noted on occasions in the past but had involuntarily disregarded time and again; deep red marks which were somehow the twins of those that adorned the sword. My sword.
With a roar I drew upon a reservoir of strength from somewhere deep within me and threw the massive stone slab away from my arm. The pain which should have resulted from that action was dismissed by my fevered brain as a mere irrelevance, something far too fleeting as to be of any import. I felt the power surge into my freed left arm and shoulder, imbuing them with life once more. I held out my ruined right hand, the limp fingers dangling in the direction of Andras and my sword.
Andras leered at me but then gasped as the sword was wrenched from its grip by a force which only I could truly feel. The weapon spun toward me and then stopped a few mere inches away from my broken fingers. I felt the power rush into those fingers and I flexed them, somehow whole once more.
I grinned at Andras—a vicious, primal grin—before plucking the sword from the air and launching myself straight at the demon. My heart sang as I fully acknowledged the fact which I had before only fleetingly recognised; I did not merely wield the sword. It was a part of me and I a part of it, the two of us indivisible in so, so many ways.
Andras caught the blade in its hands, throwing me off to the side and following up with a sharp kick to my kidneys. I gasped as the air was torn from my lungs but managed to spin with the force inflicted on me, using it to take me around and back into a defensive stance.
“Nice try,” said the demon, holding up bleeding hands which healed before my eyes. “But I have many, many more years’ experience of this than you will ever have.”
I nodded through a haze of sheer, animal hatred and charged straight at the fiend, swinging my sword again and again, meeting the demon’s guard every time but still driving forwards until there was nowhere left for the creature to retreat to. One final swing brought the hilt of the sword to bear across Andras’s temple and the demon stumbled to the ground, stunned.
I stood over the creature, panting hard. The sword wanted me to finish the fight and for a moment I nearly succumbed, but
there was something which held me back, something which I could not quite grasp. Then the red mists parted and I remembered who I was, and who I stood over. There was still a chance that N’yotsu was in there somewhere; I had to give him one last chance to assert himself.
“You are right,” I said. “In our collection of individuals, people who might save the world, I am the humanity; but you underestimate that quality. You have been around us for centuries, millennia perhaps. You have seen what we have become, what we can achieve. Do not forget, even this—” I gestured at the device and the portal it was spewing forth “—was only achieved with the help of ‘mere’ humans.
“Without what we have done—inadvertently or not—you would be sitting in some hole somewhere, trapped and all alone. We are flawed, myself especially, but we learn, and we adapt.” I took a deep breath, the mistakes of a lifetime flashing before my eyes. “Whilst we do so, there is always hope. And that is what you mistook for a flaw: hope. For as long as something remains of N’yotsu in that big, ugly head of yours, there is hope. That is why I did not fire the weapon and why I pause now—something that N’yotsu would understand if he can hear me now.”
Andras grinned and kicked out with both feet, sending me flying across the room. I landed awkwardly, head spinning wildly as I watched the demon stalk toward me, its face twisted in that terrible grin. “Poor, weak, stupid Gus,” it taunted.
Then it tensed and clenched its fists. Its face and form, which had been solid for the past few minutes, started to shift once more. My heart skipped a beat as it threw its head upwards and shouted a wordless challenge to the sky. Wavering as though fighting against an unseen force, a clawed hand thrust toward the device maintaining the portal and a burst of energy shot from the extended fingers. The machine exploded.
I screwed my eyes shut against the flash of the explosion, holding my arms up in an attempt to protect me from any debris. I opened my eyes and looked down; as far as I could tell, I was unharmed, and a glance at the others reassured me that they were at least breathing and moving. However, the machine was gone and I allowed myself a glimmer of hope; whatever happened to us, surely at least the world was now saved.