by Roy Gill
The Queen sniffed the air. She and the King, practised at shifts between the worlds, had brought Morgan and Cameron back, transporting through the Parallel with ease. She walked across the grass, the frost apparently not affecting her bare feet, and spoke quietly to her son. “It’s been years since I was last here. Do you remember how your father and I would bring you, when you were just a pup? And we would run and run across the hills, without a care?”
He nodded.
“I had to teach you about this world too if you were to live in it, at least for a time. I do not think it is such a bad place.”
The Wolf King made a derisive sound.
“He doesn’t agree,” said Morgan.
“If we were only meant to live as wolves, then why do we have a human face at all?” She looked up at the cloud-covered sky. “On some nights, human is all I can be. All I want to be, even.”
“Let us see the boy do different,” the King said. “If he can.”
Cameron looked desperately to Morgan. “I’ve never shifted like this before. It’s always happened by instinct, because I was in desperate need of it. I can’t just call it up. I don’t know what to do!”
“Believe me, mate, you need it now,” said Morgan. “If you want to save the Parallel you’ve gotta prove him wrong. So try your best. Show him who’s boss.”
Cameron closed his eyes, turning the focus of his mind inward. I hope you know what’s at stake here, Parallel Champion, because I don’t reckon we’re going to get a second chance… He tried to think wolfish thoughts, remembering the rush of sensation that had accompanied his run through the Daemonic woods: the quickened pulse of blood in his veins, the forest mapped out in scent trails stretching back into the past, the excitement of being simultaneously hunter and hunted.
He opened his eyes.
His perspective had changed. He was lower, more firmly anchored to the ground, his vision sharper. Stranger still, the Wolf King was bowed on one knee before him, a look of barely contained fury on his face.
It had worked. Cameron was wolf.
And the Wolf King smelled of fear…
“So you can shift outside the Fat Moon, even in the Human World. Your power,” the King said through gritted teeth, “exceeds my own. I am forced, reluctantly, to recognise you as Alpha.”
“So you’re giving in without a fight?” Morgan crossed his arms over his chest and crowed. “Look who’s the big wolf now…”
“Not to you,” the King spat. “You’ll never lead. To him.”
“It is the challenger’s right to name the place of battle,” the Queen said simply. “If Cameron elected to fight in this world as wolf, my husband would be mere human, so the boy’s strength would be greater.” She moved to stand beside the King. “See, my husband? Sometimes our human side has its advantages. Diplomacy saves blood-spill.”
Cameron shook, his fur rippling. He raised himself onto his hind legs and felt the wolf lift from him, as lightly as if a veil of silk had been drawn from over his face. It didn’t seem entirely right for the shift to be so easy, so effortless. The simplicity of it scared him. It was as if the wolf was already disconnecting, and starting to slip away from his grasp…
He stretched and re-fastened the woven robe he’d been given in the hall.
“The pack is yours,” the King said in a monotone. He was still kneeling, his eyes lowered. “Do with it as you please.”
“Get up.”
The King’s brow furrowed, and for a moment he looked fearful. “But I’ve given it to you. I’ve handed it over –”
“I said, get up. You don’t have to bow to me. What would I want a pack for anyway?” Cameron looked over at Morgan and shrugged. “I mean – what would I do with them? Imagine that lot hanging about the house all the time, mooching and growling. Eve’d be furious. She thinks two of us is bad enough.”
Morgan’s face was a picture of mock outrage. “Oh come on. At least order him to run about barking first, or make him stand on one leg for a bit… just for laughs?”
Cameron shook his head. “Nah. You were right. I don’t want to belong to anything that’s about ordering people about, keeping them in line. I don’t hold with that in any world.” He remembered the ordeal of the Augur, that Odyssey warehouse Grey had made him work in: all those long straight lines, boxes and boxes pressing down on him… then one brilliant moment of music, of rebellion, that set him free…
“The Parallel’s the thing.” He turned back to the King. “You’re going to help me save it. That’s my condition. The Augur said you could stop Grey, and I need to hold you to that.”
The King nodded his agreement, his expression still a little grudging. “We will come at your call. At your time of greatest need, the pack will be there. I swear it.”
He turned and strode away, fading from the hillside as he shifted back to Daemonic. The Queen lingered, glancing from Morgan to Cameron. “Our legends say the Moon-free are rare, and their time is very short.” She reached out and placed both hands on Cameron’s shoulders, almost as if she was giving him some kind of blessing. “I think the Wolf will leave you soon. Embrace it while you can,” she said; then she too was gone.
“Wins a pack – then just gives it away.” Morgan let out a long low whistle. “That was quite something. Either utterly brilliant or totally daft, I’m not sure which. What do you reckon?”
“I reckon we should be getting back to Eve,” said Cameron, starting to head down the hill. “Let’s see what she’s found out.”
Lights were blazing in the windows of the house on Observatory Row, and in the garden smoked the remains of a bonfire. They found Eve in the kitchen, surrounded by a laptop, a fire poker and a dozen dirty coffee cups. Rather incongruously, she was wearing a sleek black evening dress, and had her hair piled up elegantly on top of her head.
“Eve,” said Cameron, “you look…”
“Ridiculous?”
“Older, I was going to say. Grown-up.”
“I hardly know what age I feel any more… I’ve been raiding your gran’s – our gran’s, I mean – wardrobe again. She must’ve been very glamorous once.”
“Yeah. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.” Cameron foraged wearily in the fridge for food.
“Been doing a bit of decorating?” Morgan pointed a thumb at the window, which, like the others in the house, had been stripped bare of coverings.
“I made a fire and burnt them all, to prevent further attacks by Weavers.”
“Drastic,” said Cameron approvingly, between mouthfuls of chicken drumstick.
“You know there’s all kinds of other beasties out there, right?” said Morgan. “Not just Weavers?”
“Oh, yes.” Eve waved the poker. “I’m prepared. I’ve got advance warning.” She indicated the bone necklace the Selkie woman had given her at the daemon market, which was hanging off a hook by the kitchen towels. “This isn’t as useless as some people claimed. Turns out it lets you know if something nasty is about to world-shift into your home.” Her nose wrinkled. “Mainly by giving off a sudden smell of rotting fish.”
Morgan looked bashful. “What do I know about selkie magic? How did you find that out?”
“How do you think? That’s why I annihilated the curtains.”
“Ouch. You are pretty fierce when you want to be, aren’t you?”
“Never doubt it. There’s been nothing since then. I think they’re all too busy fleeing from the mayhem Grey’s causing.” She raised an eyebrow. “Good visit home to see the folks?”
“Better than I expected,” said Morgan, checking whether Cameron had left him any chicken. “The pack’re gonna come when they’re called, help us sort out old fungus features. Turns out Cam’s their new Alpha.”
“That’s me.” Cameron gave a modest smile. “Top Dog.”
“My brother the wolf lord. Am I expected to bow?”
“Not all the time.”
“Too kind. My, it’s all happening, isn’t it? Let me show you what I’ve discovered.�
� She swivelled the laptop round to face the boys. A picture of Dr Black’s thin face was captioned: Our keynote speaker, Dr Alasdair Black, who will present a paper that he claims will rewrite our understanding of the universe.
“He’s appearing at a conference called, ‘Looking into Dark Matters’. I think that’s supposed to be an astronomer joke.” Eve pulled a face. “They’ve been talking shop at the University all day, then they have a big reception this evening at the Museum of Scotland. Black’s speech is being saved for after dinner, like he’s the star event.” She clicked to another tab. “Look at what he’s called it.”
Morgan read the title aloud. “World Split: A Radical New Vision of the Origins of the Earth, and its Potential Parallel.”
Cameron whistled. “He’s not going to get much more radical than telling everyone the truth about the Human and Daemon Worlds –”
“How about running a World Engine that’s gonna knock out the Parallel hidden between them?” said Morgan. “That’d wake them all up.”
“Precisely.” Eve exchanged a serious look with her friends. “I think that’s what he’s planning to do. I’m guessing the World Engine must be hidden there somewhere, so he can set if off at the climax to his big speech.”
The colour drained from Cameron’s face. “Imagine if he succeeds… The last route of magic from Daemonic to Humanian closes, and he’s telling a room full of scientists they’re now living in a world where everything can be explained, understood and controlled. He’s starting something big – and it’s starting tonight.”
At the back of his mind, a familiar howl of indignation sounded. The wolf was restless once more… It made him feel unsettled, but at the same time he knew it was a positive sign. It meant they were on the right track.
He jumped to his feet. “We’ve got to get down there and stop him.”
Eve stood up too. “Why do you suppose,” she said, a touch theatrically, “I’m dressed like this?”
“For a laugh? Because you want to look smart for the world ending?” Cameron scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “How should I know?”
Eve sighed. “I went up to the Observatory earlier. That’s where Black studied, so they know all about him and his work. I said I was his sister, in town to see his big night, but I’d lost my invitation, and could they possibly help?”
“And they just believed you?” said Cameron.
“I was standing on top of Blackford Hill in an evening dress in the middle of winter – of course they believed me! What was more likely – a misplaced invite, or I was one of a plucky band of rebels trying to stop Black’s work?”
“Eve, you are spectacular.” Cameron punched the air, then just as swiftly grabbed his sister for a hug.
“Aren’t I? But I only got one invite, so I’m going to have to smuggle you two in.” She pulled away, noticing the woven robes both boys had brought back from Daemonic. “What do you think you’re wearing?”
A low barrier separated the outside stairs to the museum’s basement from the thoroughfare of the street. Cameron and Morgan ducked under it and crept down to the gate below. It rattled in Morgan’s hand. “Locked. Will I use the Omniclavis? We’ve got one shot left.”
“Hmm, not sure,” said Cameron. “That stuff Janus said about getting to the heart of the mystery – I somehow don’t reckon he meant a back gate.”
“Does it matter as long as it gets us in? We’re gonna need to hurry up.”
“I know.” Cameron glanced up to the street, but they were well in the shadows and no one appeared to be taking any notice. “Eve’s not going to be able to sneak away forever.”
“Why don’t you wolf it?”
“You what?”
“If you can shift any time, why don’t you call up your superior firepower right now?”
Cameron stared at him. “That’s not entirely a mad idea.”
Morgan snorted. “Can’t always be you two that come up with the clever stuff…”
“Let’s see… maybe I don’t need a full shift. Maybe just a hand.” Cameron rolled his sleeve and waggled his fingers experimentally. “Can I do that?” He shut his eyes, remembering how recently those same fingers had been shaped entirely differently. He saw the paw in his mind, covered in dense black hair, each pad a soft sheath for a strong retractable claw…
A wolf paw swiped the lock, swatting it to the ground as easily as you might bat away a fly.
He flexed his claws. Fur retreated beneath his skin, his talons shrank and his paw rippled back into being a human hand.
“That. Was. Awesome!” breathed Morgan.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Cameron allowed himself a grin. “Do you think I should’ve tried for a tail as well?”
“Whatever works for you.”
“Maybe not right now. You know, I’m just worried it’s all getting a bit too easy.”
“Smart person problems. Only you could worry about that. Try not overthinking, just act.” Morgan pulled the gate open. It swung towards him a little too fast and stotted off his head.
Cameron stifled a yelp. “Good advice. I’ll remember that.”
Morgan gave him a dark look and made a sub-vocal growl. “Whatever…”
They moved along the passageway, past windows showing stones covered in geodesic pictish symbols. A fire exit was being held ever-so-slightly ajar by the presence of a foot in a pointed shoe.
“What’s taken you so long?” Eve hissed. “They think I’m on a bathroom break, but I’ve already been gone half an hour. Someone might notice.” She ushered the boys quickly into the darkened gallery.
“They’re all upstairs sipping drinks in the main hall, wandering around and being catty about each others’ research… Some bald Professor came up to me and asked what I thought about Black’s paper. ‘Young Black’s either going to change our understanding of the world or he’s going to break it, and I don’t approve of either,’ he said, then he stared at me like he expected an answer…”
“Eek,” said Cameron. “How did you escape?”
“I said I was Black’s sister and I made pottery owls for a living and he harrumphed and let me go… But I got the impression they all think his ideas are pretty controversial.”
“Pottery owls!” Cameron gave a half-smile. “What about Dr Black and Mr Grey? Any sign?”
“Not yet. I think Black’s planning to make his big entrance later…”
“It’s spooky down here,” said Cameron, glancing round the basement gallery at the carved stones, broken helmets, skulls and bones.
“It’s full of old dead things… What did you expect?” Morgan pushed his nose against the glass of a display case. Lying on a backdrop of roots was a thin female wooden figure with beaded eyes. “Most of this stuff must date back to before the Parallel was even formed…”
“Don’t!” Eve caught his arm and pulled him away.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“It may be old, but I don’t think it’s all dead.” She lowered her eyes for a second. “I had a quick look about on the Parallel while I was waiting, just in case I could see Black’s World Engine… and that thing spoke. It said in a high reedy voice, ‘Are you the girl who brings me leaves and flowers? Is it time to rise?’ I told her it was night and she should go back to sleep.” Eve shivered. “I think we should tread carefully. Be respectful. We don’t know what we might wake up.”
“She’s right. Doesn’t that look familiar?” Cameron paused to examine a Roman statue of a lioness that had been dredged up from under the water. Centuries of erosion had eaten away its features, but it reminded him uncomfortably of Janus’s feline stationmaster. “Let sleeping relics lie, I reckon. Do you know where Black’s giving his speech?”
“In the science galleries. I’ll show you.”
Eve led the way up the stairs that rose into the main section of the museum. The light levels increased as they approached the central hall, as did the hubbub of voices. They passed into a large gallery with two balconies ri
nged around a central space filled with icons of innovation and engineering.
Cameron found himself lingering, staring up at a majestic metal rocket that towered above him, nearly reaching the roof. Almost as tall was the giant cogged wheels and tilting wooden beam of the early industrial-age pumping mechanism next to it. At ground level, the conical shape of a NASA space capsule glinted beside a case in which the glassy-eyed remains of Dolly – the world’s first cloned sheep – rotated. An open doorway gave onto the area holding the evening reception, which was thronged with people in smart clothes, all milling and chatting.
“Baa,” Morgan said solemnly to the stuffed sheep.
“No, Morgan. Just no,” said Eve. “That isn’t helping.”
“What? You said we had to be respectful.”
“I didn’t mean to –” She broke off as a bald-headed man in a dinner jacket left the party and came bustling up to her.
“Ah, there you are, my dear. I was wondering if you’d got lost? This is an unusual conference venue, but not without its amusements.”
“Hello Professor Babbage. How… nice to see you again.” Eve made frantic flicking motions behind her back, indicating Cameron and Morgan should take cover, but it was too late.
The Professor frowned. “Who are your friends?”
“Students,” said Eve.
“Remarkably scruffy, even for our lot.” Professor Babbage scrutinised Cameron’s muddy trainers and Morgan’s leather jacket. “And surprisingly young?”
“We’re boy geniuses,” said Morgan.
“Genii,” corrected Cameron, shooting his friend a stare. “Dr Morgan here got his PhD in, uh, moon studies when he was just fifteen. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh yeah. Know everything about Her Fat Moonness. You could say I’m a fan.” Morgan grinned.
“Is that so?” The Professor raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps then your combined intellect could help me solve a little mystery? You see, I was speaking with the esteemed Dr Black, and I mentioned I’d had the pleasure earlier of conversing with his sister – and do you know what he said?”
“It wasn’t a pleasure?” said Eve brightly.