by Lucy Banks
Kester grimaced. “It doesn’t matter which way you look at it. Being hauled into a cave late at night, then held against my will, is not what’s best for me.”
Barty Melville crouched beside Parvati, then eased her gently to her feet. He dusted his gown off before taking a deep breath. Kester braced himself. “My dear lad,” he began, in a suspiciously syrupy voice. “Why don’t you let us explain why you’re here?”
“Yes.” Now Felix Taggerty moved towards him, his tall, thin frame casting an eerie shadow on the wall. “You’re about to be given the opportunity of a lifetime. Reggie and I have travelled down today to mark the occasion, you should feel honoured.”
“Yes,” Reggie Shadrach agreed, folding his arms. “It’s not often you’ll get three Thelemite lodge-masters gathered in one place.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kester replied heavily. He felt overwhelmed, exhausted, and more than a little terrified. Although the exit to the cave was unguarded, the passageway beyond was pitch-black, and he knew that fleeing was probably futile. If it’s anything like Beer Quarry Caves, he thought to himself, remembering the visit they’d made only a few weeks ago, it’ll be a crazy labyrinth of caverns that are easy to get lost in. I should probably take my chances with a daemon rather than die in the dark.
Hrschni smiled, a sinister stretch of the mouth that showcased his needle-thin teeth. “Let me enlighten you, Kester.” He swam through the air until he was barely inches from Kester’s face, the warmth of his breath settling over them like swamp-mist.
“You are very special,” he said slowly, relishing each word. “After all, you are a spirit-door opener, are you not?”
“Supposedly so,” Kester replied guardedly. “Though it’s a bit hit-and-miss, if I’m honest.”
“But you can open doors to the spirit realm?” Reggie asked quickly, glancing at Barty.
“That’s what it said in his file,” Hrschni said smoothly. “And as we all know, the Infinite Enterprises files don’t lie.”
Kester gasped, hand rising instinctively to his mouth. “When did you see my file? When you broke into Infinite Enterprises archives?”
“Of course,” Hrschni replied. He scoured Kester’s face, burning eyes glittering in the light of the oil-lamps. “I needed to be certain that you had the relevant skills for the job. Of course,” he continued, “I’d heard the rumours. I read about your dealings with the Bloody Mary spirit and the Scottish fetch with great interest. But I needed to have it confirmed before taking action.”
“But I don’t understand,” Kester spluttered. “I thought you’d broken into Infinite Enterprises to gather information about something important! The others thought you were trying to get to their permanent spirit door.”
Hrschni sighed, sending a fresh breeze of heat over Kester’s face. “Yes, I suspected they’d think that. Alas, their door is impractical, not to mention costly to run. What we needed was someone with more natural talents.”
“Hang on,” Kester said slowly. Realisation hit him like a battering ram, taking his breath away. “You mean you want me to open a spirit door for you? Is that your plan?”
“Partly,” Hrschni replied casually, turning back to look at his colleagues. They nodded, their smiles looking horribly wolfish in the soft, amber light. “But of course, there’s more to it than that. To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t work out the message in my most recent song.”
“I figured out the last line,” Kester said defensively. “‘Histories so putrid or’ is an anagram of ‘the spirit door is ours’, isn’t it?”
“But you didn’t work out the rest?” Hrschni looked surprised. “I felt sure you would solve it.”
Parvati laughed. “Especially as it’s got your name in it.”
“What do you mean?” Kester asked. He felt sick. I’ve been well and truly duped, he realised, and now, I’m in serious trouble. The only thing he could do was stall for time and keep them talking.
“The song title is an anagram,” Hrschni said. “‘Ode to Set-Shirker.’ So are many other phrases in the lyrics. ‘Theorised stroker’, ‘Dorkiest heteros’, ‘Reeked this roost’—how could you not notice? I must say, I’m a little disappointed.”
Kester bit his lip. “I knew they were anagrams,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t work out what. I tried numerous combinations.” He suddenly paused and stared at Parvati. “What do you mean, it has my name in it?”
Parvati laughed mirthlessly. “They’re all anagrams of ‘Kester is the door’, of course.”
Kester’s eyes widened. He ran over the phrases in his mind, then winced, rolling his head to the ceiling. I don’t believe I didn’t figure it out, he cursed silently. It was there, right in front of my face, and somehow, I completely missed it.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, boy,” Barty Melville said breezily. “I struggle horribly with anagrams. The Sunday morning Cryptic Crossword in the paper gets me every time.”
“Why don’t you just get to the point, and tell me what you want from me?” Kester snapped.
Hrschni moved backwards, weaving from side to side, as though deep in thought. “Very well,” he agreed. “However, I’d like to emphasise, this is a mutually beneficial arrangement. We need your skills to create an opening into the spirit realm. As you probably already know, we believe in freedom of movement between the worlds. A life without borders is so much more rewarding, don’t you think?”
“Rewarding for whom?” Kester retorted cynically. “It doesn’t sound like there’s much in it for us humans.”
Hrschni winced, closing his glowing eyes for a moment. “That’s simply not true, Kester,” he said. “That’s lies and propaganda. The truth is—spirits and humans can co-exist harmoniously. The level of control that humans place on spirits is appalling. We are restricted by legislation, legalities, ridiculous rulings, not to mention unimaginable cruelty . . .”
Barty coughed meaningfully, and Hrschni nodded. “I veer off-topic,” he concluded. “Do forgive me. It’s a subject I’m passionate about, as you can see.”
“Why should spirits have free access, though?” Kester asked. If I keep him talking, he thought wildly, then I may be able to give myself enough time to come up with an escape plan. “What’s wrong with the current system?”
“It’s prejudiced!” Hrschni spat, coiling into himself once more and glowing with even fiercer intensity. “Many of my spirit brothers and sisters are forbidden to enter, despite the fact that they have much to offer. Many others no longer bother to come, as they’re so tired of the persecution from the governments of the world. It’s time to end it. We need to unite again, be together as we once were.”
“‘As we once were’?” Kester echoed.
Felix Taggerty licked his colourless lips. “Our ancestors lived alongside spirits,” he explained. “It didn’t do them any harm.”
“Why do you think the government hates spirits so much?” Parvati challenged. “Why do you think they fight so hard to keep them out?”
“Because it would be chaotic if they were all allowed to come in at once?” Kester suggested weakly. The conversation was starting to bewilder him.
“No,” Reggie Shadrach replied simply. “It’s because of modern society. Things like the effect most spirits have on technology. Unless it’s carefully controlled, spirit energy interferes with Wi-Fi signals. It scrambles data. In short, it causes problems for organisations that rely on such things—like banks.”
“And the presence of spirits would make people lose their trust in science,” Barty added. “How would the world’s leaders control the people if the very nature of their modern existence was called into question?”
“It always boils down to economics and control,” Hrschni agreed sadly. “It never used to be like that.”
Kester massaged his brows, trying to get his head around it all. He
knew that in the past, Mike had complained about spirits causing problems with the internet, but he’d never really stopped to think about it much. It certainly sounded plausible.
“That aside,” he said slowly, “isn’t it fair to say that the sudden arrival of loads of spirits would create chaos? Not to mention frighten everyone?”
Hrschni laughed. Embers flew from his mouth like fireworks before fizzling into darkness. “Is that what you think we’re planning? The creation of an opening that allows spirits to flood through in masses?”
Kester shrugged. “If not, what did you have in mind?”
“A fair, organised system with a staggered arrival. We would introduce spirits gently to the human world, to allow for more successful integration.”
“Successful integration?” Kester giggled, aware that his laughter had more than a touch of fear to it. “How on earth do you think that will happen? I can only speak for myself, but the first time I saw a spirit, I passed out on the floor! I was terrified! Imagine billions of people, trying to adjust to the idea of sharing their world with spirits? It’s a crazy idea!”
“It’s not crazy,” Parvati snarled. “It requires a significant change of mindset, that’s all.”
“All revolutions start with a seemingly crazy idea,” Barty added, patting his stomach reflectively. “Humans will soon come around. You’ll see.”
“Anyway,” Hrschni added quietly. “Plenty of spirits live in harmony with humans already. Take the famous Dr Barqa-Abu, for example. She’s been sharing her extensive knowledge with humans for centuries.”
“But she’s different,” Kester corrected. “She only reveals herself to the students she teaches, who are already aware of the spirit world.”
“But look at the difference she’s made! How I respect her, in spite of everything,” Hrschni continued. “And look at myself. Every human I inhabit enjoys wealth, power, and prestige. They wouldn’t have it any other way, mark my words. Fylgja is the same.”
“I can’t comment on Fylgja,” Kester muttered, “given I’ve never met her.”
“Ah, but you have,” Hrschni replied slyly. The others laughed, gathering more tightly around him.
There’s obviously some big joke going on here which I’m excluded from, Kester realised as he looked from face to face. Only Anya remained silent, eyes still fixed mournfully on the floor. Is she ridden with guilt? he wondered. Sad about how things had turned out? Or does she simply not care? It was impossible to tell.
He sighed. “Go on then, tell me. When did I meet Fylgja?” Mentally, he whizzed through all the people he’d encountered over the last few weeks. Could it be Lili Asadi? he wondered. Or Tinker? Or even Ian Kingdom-Green? Maybe that’s how they’ve been getting all their information—they’ve got someone working on the inside. However, none of those people seemed particularly daemonic. If they were sheltering a spirit, they’d certainly hidden it well.
Anya lifted her head up and met his gaze. Her eyes were full of silent apology. Kester searched her expression for the truth, then all of a sudden, found it. He exhaled, then sank to the floor, his knees buckling uselessly underneath him.
“Anya,” he whispered. It was the final betrayal. After her deception earlier, he hadn’t imagined that she could hurt him any further, but now he realised he’d been wrong. “How long have you had a daemon hiding within you?”
She bit her lip. “I had no choice.”
“That’s not true,” Hrschni interrupted, circling close to her, winding around her body like an undulating ribbon. “We explained the situation to you, and you agreed. Don’t lie.”
Anya tucked her hair behind her ear. “Fylgja,” she said loudly, “can you leave me now? There’s no point in you living within me anymore, I’ve done what you asked me.” She clutched her brow, grimacing. Kester got the impression that she was engaged in some sort of internal dialogue, though he couldn’t imagine what words were raging to and from her and the daemon inside her.
Hrschni paused his weaving, peering intently at the back of Anya’s head. “Fylgja,” he said warningly. The cave went silent. “Come out. Anya is right. There’s no advantage to you remaining hidden.”
Anya winced again, then let out a small shriek.
“What’s going on?” Kester asked with growing alarm. He didn’t like the expression on Anya’s face at all. It was the expression of someone in turmoil, someone about to crack and break.
“Fylgja,” Hrschni repeated, and although his voice was calm, there was a level of menace simmering just under the surface. “Don’t forget yourself. Come out now.”
Anya shuddered, a full-body convulsion that rippled through her like water, then sank to the floor. There was another flash of vibrant light. As Kester’s eyes recovered, he saw the second daemon, hunched in the air, curled in a question-mark of hostility. Two for the price of one! he thought, fighting the urge to laugh. The situation was so monstrously awful, it was almost amusing.
The difference between the two daemons was immediately apparent. Hrschni glowed with a crimson light, not dissimilar to a lava flow. Fylgja, by contrast, glittered with emerald brightness; vivid and lustrous as a fresh leaf after rainfall. She fixed her forest-green eyes on Kester, then glided over to him, rustling through the air like the wind.
“Ah, Kester,” she breathed and ran a skeletal finger across his cheek, making him shiver. “You beautiful, innocent thing. How I enjoyed getting to know you.”
Kester felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. “Whereas I feel like I don’t know you, or her,” he pointed at Anya, accusation breaking his voice, “at all.”
“You were surprisingly hard to get information from,” Fylgja continued as she ruffled his hair with unsettling familiarity. “I think deep down, you were suspicious right from the start. You just couldn’t bear to admit to yourself that your girlfriend might not actually be in love with you after all.”
“Fylgja, that’s enough,” Hrschni snapped.
Anya wiped her eyes. “Kester, I never meant to deceive you. They forced me to let Fylgja inhabit me. They said they wouldn’t release me unless I did.”
“So you’re saying this daemon was with you right from the start, when we came to collect you from the Exeter Thelemite lodge?” Kester asked, struggling to get his head around it all. “That was weeks ago! The whole time, I thought you really cared about me, and all you wanted was to use me for information.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Anya protested weakly. “Honestly, Kester, you must believe me! I really do care about you. They told me it was the right thing to do for everyone involved.”
“Yeah, right,” Kester muttered bitterly. How can I believe you? he thought as he watched her brown eyes filling with tears. How can I ever trust you again?
“Kester, your talents are wasted with your father’s agency,” Fylgja continued, curving around him, continually touching his body as though fascinated by how he felt through her daemon fingers. “You could achieve much more with the Thelemites.”
“Perhaps, in time, your father and his team could join us?” Barty said hopefully. “I was always so fond of Jennifer, I’d welcome her back with open arms.”
“Miss Wellbeloved doesn’t believe in what you’re doing,” Kester hissed, fingers scraping at the loose gravel around him. “She’d never agree to this ridiculous plan.”
Hrschni’s eyes narrowed, and he flew back towards Kester, hand outstretched as though to seize him by the neck. Kester flinched, waiting for the pain to start, but to his surprise, the daemon retreated, shaking his head mournfully.
“You do not understand yet,” he said as he sank gently, almost to the floor. “But you will. You’ll soon have plenty of time to understand, anyway.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kester asked guardedly. Felix and Reggie glanced at one another and smiled.
“You’re not leaving here,” Hrs
chni continued casually, uncoiling himself and stretching his glowing arms behind his back as though easing out a cramp. “You will be staying with us until you understand. There will be no going back, I’m afraid.”
Kester swallowed hard. “And how are you going to stop me from leaving?”
Hrschni smiled slowly, a stretching of his lipless mouth that seemed impossibly wide.
“By any means necessary,” he concluded simply.
Chapter 17: Exploring the Caves
“Do you think we need to tie him up?” Reggie Shadrach cracked his knuckles, much like a stereotypical gangster in a movie.
As far as Kester was concerned, there was one thing worse than being trapped in a cave, and that was being tied up and trapped in a cave. He debated trying to make a run for it, but Felix and Barty had moved closer to the exit and were currently eying him warily. Not a chance in hell, he realised with a sinking heart.
Hrschni floated down to Kester. The force of his gaze made it impossible to look him in the eye. “I’d rather not have to restrain you,” he said softly. “Perhaps if you agree to come with us quietly to the chambers in this cave, I won’t have to.”
“What chambers?” Kester asked, squinting through the rough doorway—not that he could see anything in the darkness. “Just how much of this cave do the Thelemites own?”
“We’ve been using this as our secret lodge for centuries,” Barty replied, waving boastfully around the shadowy space. “Approximately one quarter of Chislehurst Caves are open to the general public, and the rest is owned by us.”
Kester sighed. He remembered what he’d read in the archives earlier, about the Thelemites having a secret place that was somewhere dark. I wish I’d made the connection earlier, he thought grimly. “How big are the caves?” he asked, biding for time.
“Are you trying to pump us for information?” Fylgja’s eyes widened until they sparkled like emeralds in the dim light. “That’s my job, remember?” She winked at Parvati, who chuckled.