Demon Storm

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Demon Storm Page 12

by Justin Richards


  ‘Gabriel Diablo,’ Growl said, ‘was the most accomplished alchemist and mystic of the seventeenth century. He tried to summon forth a tremendously powerful creature from beyond this world. A demon, if you like. The demon to destroy all other demons – Mortagula. And Diablo almost succeeded.’

  ‘That is what Endeavour is after,’ Knight said. ‘If he has found the fabled artefacts that Diablo used in his summoning, he can recreate Diablo’s ceremony. And with Gemma as well, he can call forth Mortagula.’

  ‘And what will that give him?’ Ben asked.

  ‘The power to control the world,’ Knight said. ‘Or to destroy it.’ He looked round at his audience. ‘We ought to remind ourselves of what Diablo was trying to achieve. Let me tell you what happened all those years ago …’

  *

  The preparations were complete. Everything was in its appointed place. The chamber was accurate to the last fraction of an inch. The candles were exactly spaced around the circle within which Gabriel Diablo stood, prepared. And the child was dead, her congealing blood staining the floor beneath his feet.

  Diablo made one final check. The Dagger was on the altar stone at one point of the red pentacle painted on the floor. The two Volumes of Power were at the points of the pentacle either side of the altar. The Amulet and the Crystal were positioned on the final two points.

  The circular chamber itself mirrored the pentacle. The vaulted ceiling dipped at the points of the star within the circle. The edges of the underground room were lost in shadow.

  The only sound was the steady click of a brass clock as it ticked away the seconds to midnight.

  The Time of Summoning.

  The chimes echoed round the stone-walled room. Diablo drew the hood of his blood-red cloak up over his head. He opened the First Volume, The Book of Darkness Rising, careful not to let its covers fall outside the painted lines. Like the Second Volume, The Book of Lost Souls, it was bound in leather, braced with bands of Hellstorm forged by Diablo himself.

  Finally, Diablo was ready to speak the words of power. The Summoning. The Latin text blurred in front of him and he blinked until the text was clear again. Handwritten, ornate, beautifully formed words. He didn’t need to see them, as he knew them well already. But he could not afford to make any mistakes tonight. He took a deep breath and intoned the first word — the name of the creature he was about to summon forth from the depths of Hell itself: ‘Mortagula.’

  The word echoed round the chamber, hanging in the air like the incense from the burners positioned outside the pentacle. Their thick vapour added to the smoke from the candles along the rim of the circle. The flames guttered at the sound of the demon’s name — as if caught in an impossible breeze.

  Diablo spoke the first of the incantations. The air, already heavy with smoke, seemed to thicken in front of him. Above the low altar stone a shape was forming out of the cloudy vapours. A massive, sinister face. Its features were ragged and torn, the horns on its head stunted and broken.

  But as Diablo moved to the next incantation, the figure began to fill out. It became gradually more solid, the horns growing, curling, extending …

  The words of the third incantation were punctuated by a steady thump. It might have been the click of the clock or the beating of Diablo’s own excited heart. Or the sound of booted feet hurrying down the steps outside the chamber.

  The fourth incantation. The smoke-filled apparition was almost solid. Massive claws raked through the air. Cloven hooves scraped across the top of the altar and Diablo snatched up the Dagger. Its Hellstorm blade glinted in the trembling candlelight as he held it aloft — the symbol of his power over Mortagula.

  The creature snarled in rage, the claws pulling back as it realised what it was facing. Beneath the scarlet hood of his cloak, Diablo’s features twisted into a satisfied smile.

  But his smile froze as the creature in front of him started to laugh. Smoke snorted from its flaring nostrils and it raised a huge arm, clawed finger extended, pointing past Diablo to the back of the chamber.

  Where the door smashed open.

  The candles nearest the door were snuffed out. Thin trails of black smoke coiled up from the dead wicks. Mortagula’s laughter echoed round the chamber, louder even than the stamp of the figures rushing in.

  They wore the armour and carried the swords of Crusader Knights. On their tabards was emblazoned the symbol of the cross held in a clenched fist — soldiers of the Memento Mori.

  They could not enter the circle. They dared not. Diablo stared at them defiantly. Just one more incantation. Just one more and Mortagula would be completely formed, bound entirely to his will. Even the Memento Mori — the secret soldiers of the Pope — couldn’t stop him then.

  Another figure stepped into the chamber. Hooded and cloaked like Diablo, he pushed through the circle of knights and stood facing the altar. He threw back his black hood and spread his arms as he started to speak.

  Diablo stared in horror. He recognised the words, the secret opening spell that would allow the knights to cross the circle and enter the pentacle. Stammering, he hurried to complete the final incantation. But his voice faltered as he stared at the face of the chanting figure before him.

  It was a face drained of all colour and flesh. Sunken, parchment-like brittle skin was stretched over a skull. A spider’s web of pale blue veins throbbed across the completely bald head. The Grand Master of the Memento Mori smiled, and despite all the terrible things he had seen in his life, Diablo thought this was the most frightening.

  He dropped the Dagger.

  It clattered to the stone floor of the chamber, out of the circle — out of reach.

  Before Diablo could even begin to think what to do, an ice-cold hand closed on his throat.

  He twisted round, expecting to see one of the knights of the Memento Mori stepping into the circle to grab him, sword raised ready to strike.

  Instead, he stared into the face of Hell. Mortagula’s laughter filled his ears. The demonic creature’s hideous features filled his vision. Its cold, smoky claws bit into his neck. The massive creature stepped off the altar, backing away into the darkness of the chamber, dragging Diablo with it, into the smoke. Back to Hell …

  There was silence for several moments after they had gone.

  ‘The beast, My Lord?’ one of the knights asked, his voice trembling. ‘Is it banished?’

  ‘And Diablo with it,’ the Grand Master said. He turned to survey the chamber. ‘Collect up the artefacts. We need to study Diablo’s hellish work, so we can prevent others from following the same misguided path.’

  ‘My Lord.’

  The knights moved quickly to obey, each of them wanting to spend as little time as possible in the chamber. One knight closed and picked up The Book of Darkness Rising, another took The Book of Lost Souls. The Grand Master lifted the Crystal from its place at the edge of the pentacle. A knight handed him the Amulet.

  The Grand Master took one last look round the room. Most of the candles had gone out.

  ‘Our work here is done. I think we can leave this cold, damp island and return to Rome.’ He nodded with satisfaction. ‘Seal the chamber behind us.’

  ‘And the house above?’

  ‘Burn it.’

  The knights filed out of the chamber. Last to leave was the Grand Master himself. He hesitated for a second in the doorway, but did not look back.

  If he had, then perhaps he might have caught the glint of Hellstorm metal in the dying light of the last of the candles. Perhaps he might have seen the Dagger lying by the wall of the chamber. The Dagger with which Diablo had hoped to bind the most powerful of all demons to his will …

  *

  ‘We cannot rely on the Memento Mori to stop Endeavour as they stopped Diablo,’ Knight said.

  ‘Why not?’ Ben asked.

  ‘In 1729 the Pope dissolved the Memento Mori,’ Growl said. ‘They’d outlived the Inquisition, but become arrogant and uncontrollable. Without papal “sponsorship”, t
he organisation was forced to work secretly. But over time …’

  ‘To all intents and purposes, they no longer exist,’ Knight said.

  ‘The artefacts they took from Diablo’s ceremony were scattered and lost, and the members of the group went into hiding,’ Growl said.

  ‘So does Endeavour have these artefacts?’ Maria asked.

  ‘Unlikely,’ Knight said. ‘He has some understanding, some idea of how to perform the Summoning. And a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. If he has Mortagula at his beck and call, that’s bad enough. But a creature of that power loose in the world with nothing to restrain it …’ He shook his head.

  ‘Then we have to stop Endeavour,’ Ben said. ‘Right?’

  ‘Right,’ Rupam agreed.

  ‘But we have to find him first,’ Maria pointed out. ‘And we have to rescue Gemma. The longer we sit around here talking about it …’

  Her voice choked off and she looked down. It was the most emotional Ben had ever seen her.

  There was a warbling sound from the other side of the lecture hall. Someone’s mobile.

  ‘Sorry,’ Mrs Bailey said, already checking her phone. ‘Text message from Webby. He says that Ben’s mobile has been stationary for a while now. The phone’s detecting a huge amount of paranormal activity in the immediate area. He’s triangulated the co-ordinates and it’s a house in an isolated village in Cornwall.’

  ‘Just the sort of place to summon forth a great demon,’ Captain Morton said.

  ‘Indeed,’ Knight replied. ‘Mrs Bailey, I need you here to organise things. See if you can contact Madam Sosostram, will you, please? Morton, re-equip your team and get them back from Hereford as fast as you can. Meet them on the way and tell them what’s going on. Maria, come with me.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ Maria asked.

  ‘A house in an isolated village in Cornwall.’ Knight checked his watch. ‘It’s gone nine o’clock and we have to get there before midnight. Before Endeavour summons Mortagula again.’

  18

  KINGHT WAS FORCED TO LET RUPAM AND BEN come along as well – he didn’t have the time or the energy to argue with them. As everyone assembled in the hallway, ready to leave, Mrs Bailey came out of her office.

  ‘Madam Sosostram will join you there,’ she reported. ‘Apparently she has to feed the cats first.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You know what she’s like. Sure you won’t be requiring me?’

  Knight shook his head. ‘No time for the subtle approach. You’re more use to us here, if that’s OK?’ He checked his watch, then clapped his hands together. ‘Right, come on, everyone. No time to lose.’

  Maria went with Knight, while Ben and Rupam travelled with Growl. The Reverend had an ancient car that shook so much as it moved that Ben was afraid it would fall apart. There seemed to be no suspension in the back seats, where he was sitting. Rupam had insisted on taking the passenger seat, claiming he sometimes got carsick. Ben guessed that he’d travelled with Growl before.

  But Ben wasn’t alone in the back of the car.

  ‘Why did you lie to me?’ he asked Sam.

  The combined sound of the engine and the exhaust meant that Growl and Rupam couldn’t hear him.

  ‘I didn’t lie,’ Sam protested. ‘I just didn’t remember what happened to me after I was taken from the home. I still don’t.’

  ‘You might have told me you were a ghost.’

  ‘Is that what I am?’ She smiled. ‘You sure?’

  ‘I’m serious,’ Ben told her.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Why can’t you take this seriously?’

  ‘I am the one who’s dead. That’s pretty serious.’

  Ben looked out of the window. All he could see was his own reflection staring back at him. ‘The way things are going, I might join you,’ he muttered. ‘Gemma too.’

  At once he regretted his anger. It wasn’t Sam’s fault. None of this was Sam’s fault.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Ben said, turning back. But he was alone in the back of the car.

  Rupam had turned round in his seat and was leaning towards Ben. ‘Sorry about what?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Everything. I just don’t feel like I’m helping much.’ He had to shout for Rupam to hear clearly.

  ‘Hey, it’s because of you that we know where to find Endeavour.’

  ‘I know. But that also means that whatever happens when we get there – it’s my fault.’

  *

  It was after eleven when they arrived. Growl parked next to Knight’s car, which was already there.

  The street was a very ordinary one in a small village. The houses were of different ages and designs, all set back from the road. Ben recognised Daniella Lawton’s car parked on the drive of a large detached house. The house was square, with steps up to a central front door that had windows either side. Upstairs windows balanced the ones below, giving the building a symmetry like a child’s drawing of an idealised house. There were lights on behind the curtains and a security light illuminated the front driveway.

  A man was standing outside the house, stamping his feet in the cold. As he turned and walked slowly across the front of the house, his jacket flapped open – revealing a plain white shirt and a dark shoulder holster strapped in position.

  Knight was standing in the shadows on the other side of the street, with Maria and Madam Sosostram.

  ‘It’s most definitely the right place,’ Growl told them all. ‘I can feel it in here.’ He tapped his chest, then his forehead. ‘Here too, come to that.’

  ‘Plus there’s an armed guard,’ Rupam pointed out.

  ‘Which is a bit of a clue,’ Madam Sosostram added. ‘At least he doesn’t have a Grotesque.’

  ‘Probably just a hired thug.’ Maria said. ‘So what do we do? We can’t just walk in.’

  ‘And we can’t wait for Captain Morton,’ Knight added. ‘Gemma is in the most terrible danger and we’re cutting it fine as it is. We have no idea what we shall find inside.’

  ‘Then I suggest we charm our way in and rescue that poor little girl,’ Madam Sosostram said. ‘Let me have a word with that nice young man and see what I can do.’

  Ben watched in amazement as Madam Sosostram handed Knight her walking stick, then shambled across the road towards the house.

  ‘What’s she doing?’ he said. ‘That guard won’t be worried by a little old lady.’

  Growl smiled. ‘Watch and learn,’ he replied. ‘Though I’m afraid we’re a little too far away to get the full benefit.’

  The guard outside the house also seemed surprised as Madam Sosostram approached him. His hand strayed inside his jacket, but as she spoke to him he seemed to relax. The old lady put her hand out and stroked it down his cheek. It was a strange gesture, Ben thought – out of character, and more likely to make the man suspicious than win his confidence.

  But the man pressed his own hand against Madam Sosostram’s. Ben caught a hint of her croaky laughter. The man was smiling as Madam Sosostram stepped away from him. She walked across the driveway, towards the side of the house. Then she paused and looked back at the man for a long moment, before continuing on her way.

  To Ben’s astonishment, the man hurried after her. ‘How’d she do that?’ he asked.

  Rupam grinned. ‘You’ll work it out one day. Maybe.’

  ‘Come on,’ Knight urged, leading them quickly and quietly across the road.

  Madam Sosostram was coming back and there was no sign of the guard. She pointed to empty space just in front of Ben as she approached. ‘Sorry about that one. It was guarding the back door.’

  Growl stepped forward. His face twisted into a sudden fury and he pointed a crooked finger across the drive, towards where Ben was standing, speaking rapidly and quietly.

  Ben heard a confused mixture of a snarl and a popping sound. There was a brief flash of light right in front of his face where Madam Sosostram had pointed, and Growl lowered his arm.

  ‘Cool,’ Rupam said in a hushed voic
e, running up to Ben. ‘The way you just stood there and faced down the Lawton woman’s Grotesque.’

  ‘Like it wasn’t even there,’ Maria added. ‘And it was jumping up right at you.’

  Ben swallowed. He had known nothing about it until Growl destroyed the creature. Without his phone, he realised, he couldn’t even see what they were fighting. And everyone else assumed he had some of the same power and ability to see the demons that they did.

  There was no time to put them right, even if he wanted to. Knight was at the front door now. Madam Sosostram hurried over and handed him a key she must have got from the guard.

  ‘Ready?’ Knight asked quietly. ‘Growl, you take Ben and Rupam and see if you can find a way in round the back. Ladies – with me, here.’

  ‘He’s just trying to keep us out of the way,’ Rupam grumbled.

  Ben wasn’t about to complain. He didn’t know exactly how extraordinary the events of this evening were for Rupam and the others, but he was still trying to understand what was happening – to him, to Sam, to all of them … An extra few minutes when he wasn’t being attacked by invisible demons could only be a bonus.

  There was a narrow alleyway between the side of the house and the garden fence. Growl led the way, stepping over the body of the unconscious guard. Ben wondered what Madam Sosostram could have hit him with. A spell, maybe.

  At the back of the house was a long garden, mostly laid to lawn but with tall trees either side and a hedge at the end. Like the front, the whole area was lit by a security light mounted high on the wall of the house.

  ‘I’d have thought he’d choose somewhere isolated, not in a village,’ Ben said.

  ‘The location of a Summoning is very important,’ Growl said. ‘This house may lie on ancient ley lines or at the meeting point of magnetic influences.’

  ‘Or it might be handy for the supermarket,’ Rupam added.

  ‘That too.’ Growl smiled. Then he seemed to sway on his feet as if dizzy, grabbing Rupam’s shoulder for support.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Ben asked.

 

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