by Roy Gill
Dr Black began to pace back and forth, his hands gesticulating. It was the liveliest Cameron had ever seen the drab man.
“My research turned to the occult. I would find a way of understanding that wolf transformation! Deep in the university vaults, I uncovered the papers of Alexander Mitchell. He was a geologist as well as a mage, did you know that? He studied the formation of the Earth, deducing historical process from the craggy rocks of Arthur’s Seat…
“None of my colleagues had ever thought to look into the rest of his writings. They dismissed his arcane work as superstition. But I went through his legacy, and there I discovered the World Split, and the true nature of the dual worlds. The secret of the universe, laid out on damp and crumbling pages…”
Dr Black gazed up reverentially at the two revolving globes creeping ever closer. He turned back to the teenagers, his arms spread wide. “Don’t you see? It’s all connected: my quest for secrets, the stars, the wolf… The Daemon World provides the explanation for dark matter! The cosmos – as human astronomers perceive it – omits the Earth’s daemonic twin, because they simply don’t know it’s there. But logically, if the Earth has a twin, so must other planets… Many, many worlds must exist in hidden dimensions. By understanding this world – I solved the problems of physics!” Black stopped his frenzied pacing and for a moment looked much older than his years. “I explained my theories to my superiors at the University, and do you know what they said?”
“They laughed at poor Dr Black,” said Mr Grey with oily sympathy. “They said he’d been overworking and needed a holiday.”
“I decided to show them for the fools they were,” said Black.
“Bad choice,” said Morgan. “Should’ve taken the holiday.”
Black ignored him, pressing on, driven by a burning need to share his story, even with his enemies. “By now my own connection to the Parallel had become clear. I carried the Parallel Inheritance within me, even if its knowledge had been lost to my family. It was the reason I’d always felt different, the reason I knew there was something hidden…”
“That’s one theory,” Morgan muttered darkly. “Or you got dropped on your head.”
Again Black ignored him. “So I made a plan. I would learn to world-shift myself. I’d leave this world and bring back something that’d show them – that’d prove them all wrong.”
Cameron swallowed. All his life, he’d known that feeling of difference Dr Black described. When the Parallel had first opened up with a rush of music, part of him had changed forever. He had felt a rush of excitement – and the sense of something missing, at long last returned. “How did you do it? How did you get to the Parallel?”
“Numbers! Beautiful equations. As a student I would walk about the city, and numbers would dance inside my head. I’d look up and find myself some place else entirely. People said I was absent-minded, but really it was the start of a world-shift. All I had to do was refine it, find the precise equation to focus on…” The enthusiasm drained from Dr Black’s face, and his mouth twisted, like he was remembering the taste of something repellent. “I went too far. I had no one to stop me, you see? I didn’t end up in the Parallel, I transferred through to Daemonic and that’s where I got… that’s where I found…”
“That’s where he found me.” Grey’s mushroom breath was warm on Cameron’s neck, his wattle-like chin grazing his ear. The boy squirmed in revulsion. “I’d been locked away for ever so long… The daemons knew what I was – what I was capable of becoming. The ‘Grey Death’ they called me, the fungus that seeks to consume, the root of all evil…”
“Grey’s what you brought back,” Eve whispered, looking away. “Oh, you poor, poor man.”
Dr Black’s eyes went distant. “He was so small then, like a baby: a mewling, speechless thing…”
“I didn’t stay silent long, did I? I was hungry. I absorbed what I needed.”
“I gave him voice – and he took from me the power to leave that place.”
A wave of nausea hit Cameron. The wolf had known. On some instinctual level he’d felt the Greys were wrong, that they didn’t belong. The wolf had understood the truth.
“This fat amoeba’s not even supposed to be on the Parallel, let alone the Human World.” Cameron struggled against Grey’s clammy hold. “Black – what’ve you let out?”
The wheel of the World Engine spun faster and the rumble increased, as if the machinery was stepping up a gear. The arms lifted, and the compression chamber closed, and Cameron cried out again.
“Hush now, hush.” Grey clapped a hand over Cameron’s mouth. Gorge rose in the boy’s throat. Inside his head, the wolf was restless. He could feel it, yearning to break free, to tempt him into shifting, no matter what the consequences.
At full power he could get free from this overgrown bogeyman, he could rip him apart…
But dare he, with his friends under threat?
“That wasn’t the way of it… Mr Grey helped me,” said Dr Black, but his tone was uncertain. “He led me to Watt, and in turn we discovered the remains of the World Engine. We put it back together, sourcing parts and removing interference, coaxing it back to life. Anything I’ve needed, Grey’s provided…”
“Anything in the way has been absorbed,” Grey added, with relish.
“And now, with my blinkered colleagues gathered in the hall of the Human World outside, it is time to show them I was right…”
“They’ll have a bunch of hungry daemons ripping off their heads,” said Morgan contemptuously, “as soon as the worlds reconnect. They’re not gonna live long enough to crown you King Professor.”
“That would still be proof, wouldn’t it, of a sort? That’d be demonstrable evidence.” Black turned to the controls of the World Engine, stifling a brittle giggle. “Let them tell me to take a holiday now…”
“You really believe that’s why you’re doing this, don’t you?” Eve dodged round her guard and threw herself at Dr Black, trying to pull him away from the levers. “It’s Grey, planting ideas in your head. That’s what daemons do! You’ve got to fight him. You can’t let him take over!”
Morgan ran to join her, but what the Greys lacked in speed, they made up for in strength. The blob-men closed in around Black in a protective circle, their bulky bodies cutting off Eve and Morgan, forcing them back.
“It’s no good. What do we do?” Eve shouted. “Cam!”
Held in the arms of the odious Mr Grey, Cameron was bent almost double, his hands clutching his chest as he convulsed. The longer the World Engine ran, the stranger he felt. Waves of energy were slamming through his body: one moment he’d never been so alive, so full of unleashed power – the next he was so feeble that if Grey had released him, he would’ve toppled to the ground.
The Engine’s compression chamber was now only a fraction of the size it had been when the mechanism started. The twin arms rose, approaching midnight, the globes spinning so fast their outlines seemed to blur.
“First the chaos, then the feast. Two whole worlds for me to absorb,” Mr Grey oozed, drool running down his pasty chin. “A new dawn is coming, and all shall be Grey.”
“And I will be proved right,” said Dr Black.
“The globes!” Eve screamed. “Look – they’re touching!”
The gallery rocked to a sound like a supersonic boom. Shaken loose by the colossal vibration, a glass ceiling panel dropped and shattered, scattering a million tiny daggers across the floor.
The sky beyond was red and bruised, roiling with black thunderclouds.
Cameron shut his eyes.
CHAPTER 21
Howl
Black paws on white snow…
The ground beneath your pads is hard and crisp.
Easy to slip on, so claws spread wide, but it’s firmer than the deeper drifts – more of a kickback from your hind legs – so you can go swift.
Ears twitch, eyes scan: left to right, down to the ground, then back to the horizon.
Human boy in front o
f you. His dark, almost black hair hangs low on his forehead, shielding his expression, but you scent-see him – know him – instantly.
Cameron.
He is you – but you are not him.
Not any longer.
Brown eyes meet yours, questioning.
“This is it, isn’t it? This is when I let you go.”
You hold his gaze. Wolves don’t speak or give approval. They just act. They just are.
He understands this. It is, after all, part of wolves’ beauty.
You settle on your haunches and you throw back your head and howl: a long, resonant cry that echoes across the daemonic forest.
The boy recalls something Morgan told him, back when you were new-formed, just a speck of wolf-blood mingled with Parallel magic: ‘You howl for the things you need, and you howl for the things you can’t have… Sometimes you can’t tell what sort of howl it’s gonna be. Not till you’ve let it out.”
This is a howl of need.
Out of the darkness, surging, running, come wolves of every size and hue. Pelts of grey, black, brindled brown and white. They race forward and past you, leaping and yipping and snapping. Processing in the wake of the wild hunt, carrying staffs of oak, come the Wolf King and Queen. They walk upright, in human form. They bow to you and to Cameron in turn.
“Your pack has come at the time of greatest need,” says the Wolf Queen, “as we promised.”
The Wolf King’s brow is as black as night. “The Daemon and the Human World touch. We too may be wolves in either place.”
“Black seeks to reunite the Worlds forever. The Parallel is dying,” the boy speaks bluntly, “and if you let it, the danger threatens not just the humans, but the pack as well. Your precious isolation will be gone. The Grey death will spread everywhere, even over the forest. You must stop him.”
The King and Queen nod their obedience. The pair pass onwards, following the pack towards a reddish light glowing beyond the trees.
You are alone once more.
Just you – and the boy that was also you.
“I was told this had to happen. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want it. I still don’t.” He screws up his eyes and stares at you, a look of intense determination. “But if it saves the Parallel, if it saves Morgan and Eve, if it stops Grey – then I choose it. I choose to set you free.”
You walk forward and touch your nose to his hand, a gesture of parting.
Cameron shuts his eyes and he throws back his head, and howls – howls with his human voice. It is musical; and in its cadences, you recognise the song of the Parallel.
The music that is part of you both, and lives inside, and always will… no matter what.
You shut your eyes and you howl too.
You both know what sort of howl it is.
It is the howl for the things you can’t have.
It is a howl of loss.
CHAPTER 22
Wolf Against the Machine
Cameron opened his eyes. His head thrashed from side to side, and broke free from Grey’s smothering hands. He yelled at the top of his voice, howling with such ferocity that his cry soared over the roar of machinery, and even the great wheel of the Engine appeared to falter in its spin.
“Pathetic.” Grey swiped drool from his chin and moved to stare Cameron in the eye. “What a sad display. Do you hear, Dr Black, how the boy wails his defeat?”
“Defeat?” Morgan broke into a broad grin. “Can tell you don’t speak wolf… That ain’t a call of bad times, that’s summoning up the pack. The word you’re searching for is reinforcements.”
Hope leapt on Eve’s face. She danced on the spot, jigging round a suspicious Grey that swiped idly at her. “Is it true? Are they coming?”
“I know it,” said Cameron. “I saw them. They’re on their way.”
“Who? What’s he talking about, Grey?” Dr Black worked the World Engine controls furiously. “We’re so close to success – nothing can be allowed to go wrong.”
The gallery was shaking. Around its edges, patches of the walls were becoming indistinct, letting in hints of the livid red sky and darkened landscape of the Daemon World. Two of the pillars that held up the vaulted roof were taking on the appearance of towering pine trees, beyond which Cameron could glimpse a tangled snow-covered forest. Leather-black creatures swooped in the air like predatory kites, and he could hear the rustle of movement as things unseen stalked through the undergrowth.
The patches of instability grew and spread together like ink blots as the Daemon World came closer. Meanwhile, through the archway that led to the museum’s main hall, the ghostly outlines of the conference guests could be seen moving about, their agitation suggesting the changes wrought here were starting to reach the Human World as well. In the very centre of the gallery, at the heart of it all, the World Engine churned and hammered as its globes spun and the Parallel contracted and the two opposing realities were drawn together. Wreathed in clouds of smoke and steam, its ironwork was framed against the stark red backdrop of the largest patch of instability of all.
“The boy’s bluffing,” Grey spat, his milky eyes scouring the room. “The Parallel around the World Split fault-line was cleared. There’s no help coming, no boundary-crossers left to interfere.”
“Oh no? Try the forests of Daemonic…” Cameron’s gaze was fixed on the trees that were becoming ever more solid. He could sense the vibration of hundreds of feet, running on all fours towards them. “Because look out – here comes the pack!”
He darted forward, grabbing both Eve and Morgan and pulling them towards the railings that surrounded the Engine, motioning them to climb to the top rung. As they did so, the wolves came thundering into the room, bursting from between the tree-pillars and turning the gallery floor into a sea of fur. The wolves ran at the Greys, snarling, snapping and biting. The blobby clones of Mr Grey retaliated, swinging their puffball arms, which connected with their attackers with wet and sickening thuds. Hanks of fur flew and the air filled with yowls as the Greys’ lifted away wolf-sharp teeth, eyes and claws, absorbing the matter into themselves, and growing fatter still.
“Forget the blobs! You’ve gotta go for him – he’s the root,” Morgan roared, gesturing at Mr Grey who hissed in alarm. “Take him out, and they’ll all go down.” The wolf-boy rolled his eyes, pulling his jacket from his shoulders, his arms already stretching and thickening. “Want a job done…”
He launched into the wolvish melee with a whoop. For a moment, the blond teenager seemed to be crowdsurfing, then he shifted completely into his white wolf form and dropped into the crowd.
“Don’t join in.” Eve’s arm bracketed protectively across Cameron’s chest. “I know you want to, but don’t. I can’t lose you both –”
“It’s not up to me.” The boy’s breath was ragged, the sweat pouring down his face. “He’ll know when to come. It’s got to be soon.”
The white wolf pushed to the front of the pack, leading his colleagues in a charge towards Mr Grey. The daemon stumbled, driven back by sheer force of numbers. He backed closer and closer towards the heart of the World Engine.
“Morgan! The compression chamber,” Cameron gasped, “get Grey into its field. Don’t let him expand…”
“No…” Eve gave a yell of excitement. “Make him contract!”
The wolf-tide surged and Grey retreated. He teetered on the threshold of the chamber, his podgy hands batting at the snapping muzzles, then, with a ghastly cry, he toppled backward. There was a brilliant blue flash. For a moment he appeared wedged in the compression field, elephantine and furious, then the machine gave a laboured groan. There was a thin, high-pitched sound like gas escaping from a punctured weather balloon, and Mr Grey dwindled. He shrunk first to the size of a beachball, then a puffball, then finally – to nothing at all.
All round the gallery, his spored minions froze. They withered and collapsed, falling in on themselves like sacks of wet leaves dropping mushily to the floor. Soon the only thing left was a manky
grey paste, trampled under the paws of the stampeding pack.
“No more old mushroom breath,” said Eve with satisfaction. She shot a look in the direction of Dr Black. “But I don’t think doomsday’s cancelled yet…”
The scientist’s attention was focussed entirely on the operating panel of the World Engine. If the disposal of his controlling colleague had affected him, he didn’t show it – he just kept tapping dials and working levers.
“Give it up, Black,” panted Cameron, climbing down from the railings. A large white wolf pushed boisterously to Cameron’s side and he absently patted its flank in greeting. With the threat of the Greys gone, the pack was calming – the wolves parting to allow Cameron and wolf-Morgan through to confront Black.
“Grey’s gone. You don’t need to do this any more,” said Cameron. “And my wingmen agree.” From behind him, many pairs of green eyes glowered at the human scientist.
Black did not look up. “I’m so close now, so close to my life’s goal…”
“Grey flesh has soured wolvish tongues. They taste of must and decay, and are ill-digested,” the Wolf King announced as he and the Queen entered the gallery, striding through from the patch of shifting dimensions. “The pack may savour the taste of something fresher.” His words were underscored by a bass rumble – a collective growl from the wolves that made the threat very clear.
Dr Black turned round. His eyes went wide at the sight of the Queen. “The fair-haired woman… the wolf mother. You were there at the start – on Blackford Hill. You’re a sign, surely – a symbol that my experiment has to succeed?”
“No.” The Wolf Queen’s fingers touched the circlet on her brow. “This is the only symbol I carry. And it isn’t intended for you.” She moved through the horde of wolves and placed the circlet over Morgan’s head. He resisted for a moment as she slipped it to rest like a silver collar on the ruff of fur round his neck. “Your twisted philosophy threatens us all, Dr Black. It can’t be allowed to continue.”