by Roy Gill
For the past year, while coming to terms with his new powers, his strategy had been to keep his head down and try to avoid being noticed. But Grant the biker dog had seen through that – he’d sensed what Cameron was at once.
“I thought you didn’t bother with those losers anymore?” He shot Morgan an irritated glance. “Why were you hanging out with him? And how did he mean, ‘duty’?”
“Needs must. Got to show my muzzle now and again. Especially if I want a favour.” Morgan yanked up his socks and tightened his bootlaces. “Look at me! I’m all shook up, thanks to that bone-rattler.”
“Rattler! You said it was great a second ago.”
“Got me here quicker, didn’t it?” The wolf-boy straightened up. “Right, shall we do this?”
Cameron nodded. “I’m ready if you are.”
“I’ve been ready ages.” Eve closed her eyes, and tapped her foot, her lips moving slowly.
Interesting, thought Cameron, she hears music too. His own hand was moving by his side, searching for chords on the fretboard of an imaginary guitar. The song of the Parallel rocked through his mind.
Morgan lifted his nose and scented. “Ah… can’t miss that Parallel smell of magic and monsters –”
Reality changed, as they shifted through.
The fountain swivelled, the crumbling sandstone blocks becoming whole as the missing sections corkscrewed out of the ground. The lettering on the side expanded, new words searing themselves into the stone with a flourish
WATER IS NOT FOR MAN ALONE,
BUT IS THE DELIGHT OF DAEMONS ALSO
as a jet of clear liquid spouted from the top.
On the path, the vegetation shrank back and the concrete vanished. The ground trembled and split as railway tracks rose out of it, like dinosaur ribs being pushed to the surface. A building assembled in a flurry of bricks: a stationhouse with a peaked roof and a sign that read:
PARALLEL LINE
Above the doorway, a disc-shaped logo showed a two-faced man in silhouette.
A railway on the Parallel! Cameron grinned, unable to help himself. There was always something new and different to discover. That was why he loved being able to world-shift.
Eve looked pleased too, and ran over to investigate the station. He opened his mouth to call out, but as the Parallel stabilized and the song faded in his mind, he heard the eerie howl of a wolf.
He whipped round, scanning the landscape – the smart station, the gleaming tracks, the shrubs around the fountain. He could spot no one apart from his friends.
“What’s up, mate?” Morgan was alert and by his side. “What’s wrong?”
“Didn’t you hear it? A wolf howl?”
Morgan shook his head. “Not a hoot.”
“But you must’ve! Have you gone deaf?”
Morgan studied Cameron with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Then he sighed. “You’re kind of snappy today, Shorty. You need to take a few deep breaths, get a grip –”
“I’m fine, I’m in control –”
A vision flashed into his head, of a wolf-claw slicing across bedroom curtains… Cameron glanced at his hands, but they were – of course – completely normal and human. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I’m imagining things. Must be. I’m probably still a bit worked-up after your biker friend –”
“Forget it. Grant’s a moron.”
“A big moron.”
“Alarmingly big. Like a mountain. You should pick your fights a bit better.” Morgan looked away, then added in an undertone, “Cool bike though.”
“Knew you liked it.”
“Bikes are boring!” Eve announced from the station entrance. “Come and look at this!”
The platform beyond was well kept, with a bench and row of plants. A steam engine in red and gold livery stood waiting, the logo of a two-faced man embossed upon its side, and the door to its rear carriage ajar.
Lying across the path to the train was a marble statue of a sleeping lion, its chipped muzzle pressed flat to the tops of its paws. A peaked stationmaster’s cap rested at a jaunty angle on its head.
“Daft place for a statue.” Eve reached for the cap. “I wonder who put it there?”
“I wouldn’t touch that,” Cameron cautioned, stepping over the paws of the beast. “Not until we know how this place works. We might have to barter for entrance or something –”
“Oh nonsense. It’s just a hat on a stone cat. There’s no one about.” She popped the cap on her head, crossed to the open carriage door, and struck a pose. “Would you care to board? First, second and third class tickets are available…” She raised an eyebrow in Morgan’s direction. “Some of us may have to travel in the guard’s van.”
There was a grating sound like something heavy being dragged, and a smell of fresh chalk dust. Below Cameron’s feet, the shape of the shadows changed, as if a very large object was now blocking the light. He turned around.
The statue was standing up.
It shook its mane, with a noise like a load of paving slabs being crashed together. Even in motion its flesh had a marbled quality: muscles standing out in stony rivulets along its flanks.
“This is my station.” The creature prowled forward, its joints grinding, forcing the trio to scatter. “I decide who boards.”
Eve squeaked. “I didn’t realise you were alive! I meant no harm.” She snatched the hat off her head and held it out. “Nice… kitty?”
“Lion is the word you are searching for,” said the creature. Flecks of gold quartz flashed in its eyes. “And I’m not sure I am nice. Now, if you’d all be good enough to stand still, I can decide what order to eat you in.” Its jaws opened and a collection of tiny hard spherical objects rattled to the ground and rolled away across the platform.
Ok, thought Cameron, a stone lion has stone drool. That makes a mad sort of sense.
Morgan tensed. He was checking out the exits, gauging whether they could make it past the lion and onto the train, or off the platform and along the rails, or back through the station. With a slight shake of his head, he indicated now was not the time to run. Cameron silently agreed; they had no idea of the speed and agility of the creature. If its temperament was anything like that of a domestic cat, a sudden move might even cause it to pounce…
Better try and bluff it out.
“We’re here to see Janus. You’ve got to let us on the train.” Cameron spoke with a conviction he didn’t really possess. “We need to get a new ward to protect our house –”
“And the girl-woman needs a heart, and your dog-friend could use a brain. Tell someone who cares.” The lion yawned, letting more pebble-drool hail down. “Janus won’t see just anyone. I can’t let every random board the January Express.” Its chest puffed importantly. “There’s got to be a limiting factor – and that’s me.”
“The Limiting Lion?” Morgan gave a crooked grin. “Catchy name.”
“It’s not my name, it’s a job description!” the lion roared. A fresh torrent of stone drool cascaded from its jaws, rolling like marbles across the ground. “And it’s better than my sister got, abandoned underwater for 2000 years, so have a care! I’m a creature of importance!”
Cameron swiftly drew from his pocket the cracked disc they’d found in the attic. He held it up, acutely aware his reach extended only to the base of the lion’s chest. “Look – Janus’s token. This is his magic, his name – that must give me some rights?”
“This is his sigil, certainly. But are you the ‘Isobel Ives’ named?” The lion lowered its muzzle and peered. The close scrutiny of its eyes was unnerving – Cameron could hear the tiny grinding sounds they made as they shifted about in their marble sockets. “You look like a man cub to me. Perhaps I should eat you anyway, and be done.”
“I’m her grandson,” Cameron said forcefully. “Her only living relative. That means the token rightfully passes to me. You’ve got to respect that!”
The lion’s paw lifted and Cameron instinctively ducked, but it was reachin
g for its nose. After what felt like an eternity – in which its claws made a horrendous scraping sound – the lion straightened.
“You can board.” Its attention shifted to Morgan and Eve. “I’ll eat these two instead.”
“Make that starters only.” Morgan snaked a hand down his neck, snagging a leather cord, and pulled up a yellowed ivory disc. “You see this? It’s a bone-debt, yeah? Between Janus and my pack.” He spun the disc, dangling it in front of the lion. Scratched crudely on one side was a crescent shape; the reverse had the now-familiar two-faced silhouette. “Debts have to be paid.” He cast a sympathetic glance at Eve. “Sorry, no sense us both ending up lion-chow, is there?”
“Thanks so much,” said Eve.
The lion emitted a drawn-out gravelly sound that might’ve been a sigh. “Yes. This is valid. It dates from the Old Time, the glory days of Rome; I can scent it. You may pass.”
Morgan edged around the lion and joined Cameron in the doorway of the train.
“What about Eve?” Cameron hissed.
“I don’t know, do I?”
There was a whistle scream, a shush of steam, and the engine began to send up fresh clouds of smoke.
“Two aboard, and the train’s about to go. That leaves you.” The lion eyed Eve. “Barely a snack.”
“So why bother?” Eve’s chin stuck out, although the tremor in her voice betrayed her anxiety. “You shouldn’t eat between meals, that’s what I’ve heard –”
“Thanks for the advice, but I think I will. You looked the most delicious anyway.” With the casual grace of a predator, the lion began to amble towards her.
“Do something!” Cameron shouted.
“Like what, exactly?” Morgan shrugged wildly. “I don’t want her to get munched any more than you, but right now I’m out of plans!”
“We’ve got to try!” Cameron dashed toward the cat, charging at its flank, trying to shove it off course. Smashing into its stone bulk felt exactly like running into a wall. The creature didn’t shift at all.
“Mmm, satisfying,” said the lion. “Perhaps your friend could scritch my other side, even me out?” Another whistle-blast sounded and, with a groan of metal, the steam engine began to pull out from the station.
Eve was backing away as fast as she could. Her feet skittered on a patch of drool-marbles, and for a moment she seemed to moonwalk, then she toppled backwards onto the platform. The lion was almost on top of her.
Cameron’s eyes widened. An image had shot into his head, of a vast wardrobe his dad once moved. It had seemed unshiftable, wedged into the corner of a room, but his dad had tipped the wardrobe back on one edge and handed Cameron some ball-bearings to slide underneath. Once in place, they’d been able to roll it…
“With me! Morgan!”
He raced to the creature’s rear as the wolf-boy joined him. “When I say ‘now’, shove as hard as you can!”
“Wha–?”
“Don’t argue – just push!” Cameron shouted. “Eve – you’ve gotta roll fast, away from the platform’s edge!”
Tucking her arms in, the girl spun towards the station.
“NOW!”
Cameron and Morgan slammed their full weight into the creature’s rump.
With a crunching sound the huge beast slid, its flat stone feet rolling helplessly on its own patch of marble drool. Its blank eyes bulged as it slipped and skittered. Gaining pace, it trundled forward, crashing headfirst off the platform and onto the tracks with an almighty yowl.
“That – was – amazing!” Eve gasped. “You’re a genius!”
“Never mind that, come on!” Morgan gestured towards the engine that was now gathering speed, pulling away from the platform. “We’ve got a train to catch!”
CHAPTER 4
Roman Railway
They leapt aboard just as the train passed the far end of the platform, and collapsed into the carriage in a heap. Cameron struggled to his feet, took hold of a convenient railing, and leaned out into the rushing air to slam the door.
“Still glad you came?”
“Definitely.” Eve gave a small smile. “I’ve decided it’s invigorating, almost being eaten alive.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
The inside of the carriage was unlike any Cameron had ever seen before. There were no rows of seats. Instead, the space had been decked out to look like the garden of a Mediterranean villa. Corinthian pillars stretched from mosaic floor to ceiling, marking out a courtyard that contained a pond and low marble benches. Grapevines straggled round the windows, beyond which the strange Human/Daemon mash-up of the Parallel rolled by with increasing speed. The air smelled of dry earth and honey.
A hard, abrasive sensation prompted Cameron to look down. A white kitten was winding its way round his legs. He touched its head, and found it was cold.
It stared up with empty eyes, and miaowed lustily.
“Great. Another stone moggie.” Morgan bared his teeth. “Go away!”
“Pay no attention,” a voice said airily. “He’s on the mooch for peacock hearts again. He’s had plenty, the beastly little horror.”
“Although, what is it they say?” a second voice added in ominous tones. “A raw heart a day – keeps the physician away?”
“Oh shush. Stop trying to scare our guests,” continued the first. “They’ve had enough of an ordeal, poor dears, getting past that self-important guardian.”
“And yet that shall be as nothing,” said the sinister voice, “compared to the trials that are to come.”
A tapestry curtain parted. Standing in the doorway to the next carriage was a tall, muscular man dressed in a flowing toga. Curled dark hair framed broad shoulders and a most peculiar head: one set of eyes, nose and mouth pointed left, and a second, equally distinguished set of features pointed in the opposite direction.
“You’ve got two faces,” said Eve. She clapped a hand to her mouth.
Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Well, I didn’t know, did I?” she hissed. “I thought the image on the ward was symbolic…”
“Yes, dear,” said the face on the left, not unkindly. “We do. It goes with the job –”
“With the Godhood of Portals, more accurately,” said the face on the right. “We see everything that comes and goes –”
“All life’s little entrances and exits!”
“For I look wearily to the past,” right sighed, “and am filled with regret.”
“Whereas I look to the future,” said left, “and am delighted by possibility.”
There was a blur and Janus’s head spun: the curly hair somehow remaining static while the dual faces exchanged sides.
“Or is it,” said the face now on the left, “that I look to the past, with fond remembrance?”
“And I look to the future, with apprehension and terror?” said right. “We’re not going to tell! Believe me, darlings, we’ve tried prophecy. It doesn’t end well.”
“He’s like a double act,” Cameron muttered out the corner of his mouth, “but in one body.”
Morgan gave his head a tiny shake. “He’s no joker.”
The stone kitten mewed delightedly and ran over to Janus, who dug in a pouch hanging from his toga and produced a black, withered-looking object that he threw to the ground. The kitten seized it and slunk away under the benches.
“Monster!” said both faces together, with great affection. Their blue eyes turned back to the visitors. “And who has come to call on us today? Romulus and Remus, surely?”
Cameron looked blank and Morgan shrugged.
“Two wolf-boys at any rate, if my four eyes do not deceive. Whatever can they want with little old me?” Janus gestured to the marble benches, then turned to an alcove containing an amphora and some carved goblets. “You will join me in a libation?”
“Am I just invisible or something?” Eve, who’d been looking increasingly irritable, coughed loudly. “Or is this another boys’ club I don’t get to join?”
Janus’s back stiffened. The lights flickered, and for a moment the tackata-tackata sound of the train’s progress seemed to falter. The stone kitten yowled and darted to the far end of the carriage.
“Ah yes. The girl whose brain and body are different ages… even if her mind is fast catching up,” the first voice mused. The second continued in harsher tones, “She should take care her mouth doesn’t run away with her. We could so easily show her the door.”
One of the carriage windows faded, the glass being replaced by plain wooden boards and a dented brass handle. Its outline narrowed then stretched downwards until it reached the floor. The newly formed door creaked ajar, letting in cold damp-smelling air.
“An exit.” Janus poured dark red liquid into the goblets. “If you want.”
“Eve, be careful,” Cameron urged. He eyed the doorway, wondering which sinister daemonic dimension it might lead to. “Don’t annoy the, um, God. You don’t know what he can do…”
“I can fight my own battles, thank you.” She marched up to the tall figure in the toga and inclined her head. “Forgive me, Janus. I didn’t mean to be impatient –”
“But you are impatient, aren’t you?” The train shook as the wheels skipped another beat on the tracks. “Your friends carry the symbols of my wardship and my debt – they have rights. What about you?”
“Me? I’m just along for the ride… No, that’s not correct. I’m…” Eve’s brow furrowed. “I’m here because I chose to be. Because my home is in danger too. I wanted to come.”
“All journeys begin with a choice. Where you end up, what happens en route – that is less predictable. For you, at least.” Janus turned back to the room, a thin smile starting on his left face and spreading rightwards. He handed Eve a goblet from a cloth-covered tray. “We forgive your impudence. We have a certain… sympathy for your nature.” His right face continued, more gently, “It’s not easy to be more than one thing at once, is it? But it’s more common than you might think.”