Dawn of the Demontide

by William Hussey

  ‘Stop it,’ Jake said quietly. ‘Just tell me what I am. I want you to say it out loud.’

  ‘Jake, listen to me … ’

  ‘Say it!’ He shot out of the chair. ‘SAY IT!’

  Adam could not look at his son.

  ‘You’re a clone. An exact copy of Josiah Hobarron.’

  A heavy silence followed. Jake’s world reeled around him.

  ‘I don’t understand. I’m a clone of the Witchfinder. I’m the weapon … Then what was the “Incu” box?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  Jake explained about the blueprint he had found on the night of Adam’s abduction. The diagram of the machine labelled ‘Hobarron Weapon: Incu’.

  ‘You’ve linked that blueprint to your mother’s work in engineering and come to the wrong conclusion,’ Adam said. ‘The Hobarron Weapon was never a machine.’

  ‘But Mum—she told Quilp the weapon was an engine. A machine of ferocious power.’

  ‘She said that to protect you. To throw Quilp off the scent. And, like you, the Coven assumed that, because Claire was involved, the weapon had to be a machine.’ Adam sighed. ‘The doctors working on the weapon project expected you to be very weak when you were born. A special piece of equipment had to be built to keep you alive. The full title of the machine was the “Hobarron Weapon: Incubator”. It’s where we placed you after you were born.’

  ‘Born?’ Jake echoed. ‘I was never born. Not really. Mrs Rice, she said I was “no child of God”. I was made. I’m an experiment!’

  ‘No. You’re my son. Your mother … ’

  ‘I don’t think she ever loved me,’ Jake said. ‘Not really. She was always so cold. So distant. Did she just think of me as a science project?’

  ‘The experiment changed her,’ Adam admitted. ‘Despite the miracle of your life, she felt that what we had done was wrong. That was why she turned her back on genetic science and became a mechanical engineer. It’s true that your mother sometimes found it hard to separate you from how you had come into the world, but she did love you. In the end, she gave her life to save you.’

  ‘But why, Dad? Why did you do it?’

  ‘I did it to create a weapon that we could use to end the Demontide once and for all. Only the magic of the Witchfinder could bind the Door without bloodshed. We knew from the stories that Hobarron’s magic was a natural part of who he was. All I had to do was reawaken that ability in you.’

  ‘The comic books,’ Jake said.

  Adam nodded. ‘The years were passing and there was no sign of you possessing any magical ability. I decided to try two approaches. I would fill your world with stories of monsters and witches, hoping that the magic part of you would respond. The second approach was even more desperate. There is a theory that memories can be encoded in a person’s DNA and, just like a father or mother passing on their hair or eye colour, they may pass on these memories too. I tried hypnotism, probing deep into your unconscious mind while you slept, trying to seek out any trace of the Witchfinder’s past … ’

  ‘It worked,’ Jake said. ‘I’ve heard his voice. I’ve dreamed about him.’

  Adam’s eyes widened. ‘Then you can really feel the magic? You can seal the Door?’

  ‘I’ve felt his power,’ Jake said. ‘But to stand against Crowden?’

  Adam rose and walked towards his son. He took the boy’s face in his hands.

  ‘You must try or this world will fall into darkness.’

  The office door opened and Pandora stepped inside.

  ‘If you’re ready, we’ve summoned the portal.’

  Chapter 25

  The Final Sacrifice

  Step by stumbled step, the man dragged the children across the bay. A rope in each hand, Dr Holmwood squinted through the rain. It was as if the years had rolled back and he was cast in the role of murderer once more. Everything was the same—the fury of the storm, the tug of a straining leash, the pleas of a child-voice in his ear. He had made a promise that this would never happen again …

  Alice Splane, Joanna Harker, and Walter Drake—the dead postmaster’s brother—helped to hurry the children across the bay. Eddie Rice’s mother had descended into hysterics when told of the Elders’ plan. The poor woman had always been haunted by the horror of what had happened to her brother all those years ago, and now some of her closest friends were preparing to do the same thing to her son. Joanna had tried to calm her but the woman had ranted and raved. Eventually Dr Saxby had sedated her.

  Holmwood stole a glance at the man walking beside him. The rain made it difficult to tell if Malcolm Saxby was crying or not. Was it wise, allowing him to join them? Wouldn’t any father try to save his daughter when the time came? Perhaps, but what if the father knew that, in so doing, he would risk the destruction of the world? No, Saxby could be trusted to see it through.

  Fifteen minutes of climbing across the rocks brought the party to Crowden’s Sorrow. They stood for a moment in the shadow of the cavern, catching their breath. Dr Holmwood felt the tug of the rope in his hand. Like Eddie Rice, Rachel had been drugged before they left Holmwood Manor. The mild sedative was no match for this child’s fierce energy and her will to live.

  ‘Don’t do this,’ she said. ‘I haven’t spied for the Coven, I swear.’

  Holmwood tried to look at the girl and found he could not.

  ‘I’m sorry, there is no other way.’ He shouted so that his voice could be heard above the storm—‘Come on! Time is against us.’

  The mouth of the cavern waited, ready to swallow them. No moonlight penetrated and so the Elders switched on their torches. Yellow beams swept across the dripping rock and made a hazy path for the party to follow. The voice of the storm echoed into the cave, its fury rumbling ever deeper as they stepped further into the darkness.

  Reaching the false wall, Holmwood moved to his right and shepherded Rachel into the vast space beyond. Here the green moss that covered every surface gave off its phosphorous light, making the torches unnecessary. Holmwood towed Rachel the last few metres to the foot of the giant staircase.

  ‘The stone men,’ Dr Saxby murmured. He looked around at the dozens of stalagmites and stalactites, positioned across the floor like giant chess pieces. ‘The third Omen … ’

  ‘They’re golems. My friend Jake stopped them with a single word. Met. Dead. Jake was brave. Rachel was brave.’

  It was the first time Eddie had spoken. Now he looked around him, as if coming out of a dream. His gaze turned towards Rachel and he started to tremble.

  ‘Why have they brought us here?’

  ‘Are you going to tell him, Dr Holmwood?’ She switched to her father. ‘Or you?’

  Grief washed over Dr Saxby’s face. ‘There’s nothing I can do. If we don’t try to stop the Demontide then we will all die. If only you hadn’t betrayed the Elders … ’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Holmwood said. ‘Let’s finish this while there’s still time.’

  Alice, Joanna, Walter Drake, and Dr Holmwood formed a circle around the children. Unable to watch, Dr Saxby retreated to the cavern’s hidden entrance and buried his face in his hands.

  ‘The knife,’ Holmwood said.

  Alice Splane took the long, curved dagger from the folds of her cloak. The letters ‘JH’ glimmered at the hilt. The Elders held Rachel still while Alice pressed the blade against her throat. Four voices rose up in a sing-song chant—

  ‘Hobarron—Elder of Elders—showed us the light, and so we fight against the darkness. Let us spill the Finder’s Blood. Finder’s Blood to seal the Door. Finder’s Blood to vanquish Evil. Finder’s Blood to hold back the Demontide.’

  The blade nicked Rachel’s skin.

  A trickle of warm blood rolled down her neck …

  ‘STOP!’

  All eyes turned to Eddie Rice.

  ‘Please, don’t hurt her. It was me. I’m the one that betrayed you … ’

  The hand wavered and the knife slipped from Rachel’s throat. Eddie took a long, shivery b
reath.

  ‘I’m the Coven spy.’

  If Dr Holmwood was surprised he didn’t show it. His question came in a calm voice.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because my mother told me the truth about what happened to Uncle Luke.’

  Holmwood shook his head. ‘Impossible. She was an Elder, sworn to secrecy … ’

  ‘She told me in her dreams. Every night she spoke in her sleep, reliving the memory over and over. You thought that she was tucked up in bed when you came to take Luke, but his cries woke her up. She watched you drag him from the house and, when his body was found, she knew that you had murdered him. Uncle Gordon and his friends. She grew up and became an Elder herself, but the memories of that night haunted her. She spoke of the sacrifice in her sleep: the Finder’s blood—a child’s blood—being used to seal the Door. I knew that, when the Demontide came round again, it might be my blood that was taken. And so I contacted the Coven. I offered to spy for Marcus Crowden if he could save me.’

  ‘When Dr Saxby called your mother, when he told her about the plan to bring Adam Harker to the Hollow, you were listening in.’

  Eddie nodded. ‘I contacted Crowden and passed it on. But I fooled him into thinking I was Rachel, just in case he ever decided to come after me.’ The boy gave Rachel a grief-stricken look. ‘I’m sorry, I was just so frightened.’

  ‘How did you do it?’ Holmwood asked.

  ‘The Manor is full of old magic books left by Tiberius Holmwood. In one of them I found a spell that could transform my appearance. All I needed was a few fingernails or strands of hair from the person I wanted to impersonate. I’ve used the spell on Jake, too, making him think that the woman who told him to be at Steerpike Bridge was Miss Splane.’ Eddie reached out to Dr Holmwood. ‘So, you see, it’s all my fault. I’m the one who betrayed the Elders. Please, let Rachel go.’

  An ominous rumble echoed from above. The eyes of the children and the Elders swept up to the top of the great stone staircase. The sound of cracking, splitting rock reminded Rachel of the noise of the stalactites as they shrugged themselves free of the cavern roof. Holmwood made a gesture with his hand and the sacrificial knife returned to Rachel’s throat.

  ‘I’m sorry, Eddie,’ he said, ‘but in the end it doesn’t matter who betrayed our cause. This is not a punishment, and we take no joy in what we do.’

  He nodded at Alice Splane and, with the help of Joanna and Walter Drake, she managed to turn Rachel round. With an arm clamped across the girl’s chest, Alice pressed the knife against the left side of her windpipe, ready to sweep it across her throat. Through a mist of tears, Rachel stared at her father. Dr Saxby peeked at his daughter from between his fingers, shook his head and moaned. The wind whistled into the chamber, swept around the circle of figures, whipped their clothes and stung their eyes. The glow of the luminous moss seemed to fade a little and the shadows lengthened across the ground. Rachel could hear the little boy sobbing quietly behind her.

  ‘Don’t be frightened, Eddie. It’ll be over soon.’

  She swallowed.

  The voices rose up again, completing the ritual chant.

  ‘Now let us spill the Finder’s Blood. Finder’s Blood to seal the Door.’

  The frantic beat of her heart slowed and a strange kind of calm settled over Rachel. The only emotion that still niggled at her was sorrow. Sorrow that she would never see him again. She conjured a picture of the boy to keep her company in the darkness that was to come.

  ‘Finder’s Blood to vanquish Evil. Finder’s Blood to hold back the Demontide.’

  The hot words of her murderer sighed in Rachel’s ear.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  And then …

  The knife fell from Alice Splane’s hand and clattered to the ground.

  Stunned, Rachel turned and watched Alice totter backwards in the direction of the stairs. Finally, the dead woman crumpled into a heap.

  Joanna Harker was the first to break out of the trance. She ran across the chamber, dropped to her knees and scooped her friend into her lap. The bullet hole in Alice Splane’s head stared back at her like a third eye.

  A hard voice rang through the cavern.

  ‘A gun is such an undignified weapon, but I cannot waste my magic.’

  As one, the group turned towards the speaker.

  Three witches emerged into the green light of the chamber: a little man, an elderly woman, and their leader, a figure of angelic beauty. Only his smile, cold and crooked, marred his perfect face. A black box, the size and shape of a magician’s cabinet, swirled behind him. With lightning movements, he handed the pistol to the toad-like man on his left, removed his glove and thrust his hand out towards the Elders and the children. A stream of red light shot out from his palm, split into five branches and wrapped itself around Rachel, Eddie, and the Elders. Meanwhile, the old woman had conjured her own light stream, lashing it around Dr Saxby. With a gesture from the witches, the Elders and the children were dragged across the ground and pinned to the cavern wall. The handsome man smiled and went to inspect his prisoners.

  Reaching Rachel, he held out his hand and stroked her face.

  ‘My spy,’ he purred. ‘See, I have kept my promise. Your pretty neck is unscathed.’

  Eddie opened his mouth to speak. A glance from Rachel stopped him.

  ‘I know this one,’ the old woman said, stopping in front of Joanna. ‘It’s Adam Harker’s drunkard of a sister.’

  ‘You killed my Alice!’ Joanna cried.

  She strained, trying to break free and attack the Coven leader. The ring of light kept her locked to the wall as securely as any manacle.

  ‘And here is Dr Holmwood,’ the leader said. His gaze passed over the old man’s features. ‘So like my old friend Tiberius. You are the descendant of a traitor, doctor. A traitor and a coward.’

  ‘Josiah Hobarron showed him the light,’ Holmwood said. ‘Showed him the insanity and the evil of your plan, Master Crowden.’

  Crowden clenched his fist and the loop of magical energy around Holmwood’s neck tightened.

  ‘And you thought that bringing the Witchfinder back would save you?’ Crowden sneered. ‘He’s just a boy. A miserable child.’ He relaxed his palm and the pressure around Holmwood’s throat eased. The old doctor spluttered and choked. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. Not yet. You must be here to witness the end.’

  Crowden walked to the foot of the giant staircase. His lips quivered with excitement. He held out his hand, index finger upraised, and made a beckoning gesture. The sound of splitting rock thundered through the cavern. From the top of the stairs a cloud of dust belched into the air. Great cracks splintered along the walls, tearing the primeval stone apart.

  ‘Nothing can stop it now!’ the Coven Master shrieked. ‘No sacrificial blood. No Witchfinder returned from the grave. The Door is coming!’

  He turned to the helpless Elders.

  ‘The Demontide has dawned!’

  Pandora had cleared the shop of her fellow dark creatures and now took her leave of the Harkers. There were no tears and yet the emotion in her voice could not be mistaken. Careful not to brush against his injured shoulder, she wrapped eight arms around Adam.

  ‘Thank you for helping me all those years ago. For showing me the kind of person I should be. I’m going to miss you, Adam Harker.’

  Again that mournful look entered her eyes and Jake glanced at his father. He was grey, stooped like an old man, his breathing ragged. The bandage wrapped around his shoulder was already stained with fresh blood.

  The writhing, almost hypnotic movement of her limbs began once more as Pandora turned and walked out of the shop. She was so graceful that it was difficult to believe that she had taken part in the carnage of the last hour, but the evidence was all around. The bodies of nine witches littered the floor.

  ‘It sounded like she was saying goodbye for good,’ Jake said. ‘Like she didn’t think she’d see you again. Dad, are you … ?’

 
‘Don’t ask.’

  Jake thought he was going to be sick. A great weight seemed to press down on his chest.

  ‘I need to know.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ Adam insisted. ‘You have to be focused. Crowden is stretched very thin now. He is using every last scrap of his magic to live outside the Veil. That’s your chance.’

  ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ Jake murmured.

  Adam drew his son close. ‘I believe in you.’

  ‘You don’t. You tried to get me away from the Elders, remember? You said the weapon wouldn’t work.’

  ‘But you’ve found yourself, Jake. The journey you’ve taken has brought you to the truth. You’ve heard Hobarron’s voice in your dreams, you’ve felt the magic of the Witchfinder. Whatever power was his now rests in you … ’

  Jake held up his hand and stopped his father mid-sentence. ‘I am him. The same DNA, the same blood.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You said that the Door couldn’t be sealed because the blood of Hobarron had weakened. That the DNA had been diluted. But my blood is his blood. Surely just a little of it could lock the Door … ’

  ‘Don’t you think we thought of that?’ Adam said. ‘I told you, the Door is a demon itself, and it has grown hungry over the years. No, Jake, you must use your magic to destroy it once and for all.’

  ‘But even Josiah couldn’t do that.’

  ‘The Witchfinder had to use his magic to send Crowden to the Veil. This time Crowden is weakened—all your power can be used on the Door.’

  Jake shook his head, disbelieving.

  ‘You don’t have to do this, of course,’ Adam said. ‘We could walk away.’

  The portal pulsed before them, an oval doorway of brilliant blue light. Surely only death waited beyond …

  Jake’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘I am the Hobarron Weapon. This was what I was made for.’