When the hospital’s clean, we join the others on the roof. Bec, Dervish and Sharmila are there. Sharmila’s legs have been cut off. Beranabus is working hard to patch her up. Dervish is sitting on a trolley, looking close to death. Meera goes to him immediately, to check that he’s OK.
“I’ll guard the staircase,” Shark says. “Make sure we aren’t taken by surprise.”
“But the demons are gone,” I frown.
“We have humans to worry about too,” he snorts, then nods at Bec. “She’ll tell you all about it.”
And she does, swiftly and clearly. It’s a disturbing story. First I learn that an old enemy – once a friend – has returned from beyond the grave. Juni Swan, who I first knew as Nadia Moore, has come back to life in a new, mutated form.
I’m always torn when I think of Nadia/Juni. She was a bitter but kind young woman when we first met. She saved my life in Lord Loss’s realm when I fell into a river of lava. She told me then to be wary of her if we ever met again, that she served the demon master now and I should think of her as a foe. But I find it hard to hate her. She’s a person who lost her way. She didn’t seek out evil — she got sucked into it. I pity her as much as I fear and mistrust her.
Bec describes the attack on Dervish’s home in Carcery Vale. Werewolves broke in, supported by humans with guns. She tells us she has a curious gift — she can absorb the memories of anyone she touches. One of the werewolves was a Grady. Its parents turned it over to the Lambs – family executioners – to dispose of. But the Lambs kept the beast alive and they or some other group subsequently used it as a weapon.
We discuss this troubling turn of events. Grubbs is more worked up than the rest of us — he hates the thought of his relatives being manipulated. Bec thinks Lord Loss masterminded the attack, that he knows she’s part of the Kah-Gash. Beranabus agrees, then tells me to open a window. Dervish and Sharmila won’t last long in this universe. They need magic to survive.
I’m glad to set to work on the window because I need magic too. My eyes are burning. It was bad as soon as I set foot on this world, but since the demons’ window closed, the pain has increased sharply and my vision has started to blur. My new eyes are the work of magic. They can’t function normally here. As much as I despise the universe of the Demonata, I’m a slave of it now.
As I’m working on the window, I hear the whispers from the mysterious small lights. I glance around and spot several pulsing rapidly. But the whispers don’t seem to be directed at me this time. And they’re not repeating a single word. There’s a steady stream of phrases, none of which I can make sense of.
Behind me, Dervish and Beranabus are arguing. Dervish wants to stay and find out more about the werewolves. Beranabus says we can’t waste time on them. Meera sides with Dervish. There have been lots of crossings recently and the Disciples are struggling to cope. She’s afraid the werewolves might be used to target members of the secret group. If they killed a large number of the mages, demons could cross freely.
Even though I’m not paying a huge amount of attention to the argument, I find myself pausing. “It might be related,” I say.
“Related to what?” Bec asks. Beranabus waves her silent and frowns at me.
“This could be part of the Shadow’s plan,” I tell him, the words tumbling out by themselves. The whispers from the lights have increased. I have to concentrate hard to drown them out. “It could be trying to create scores of windows so that its army of demons can break through at once. We’ll need the Disciples if that’s the case — we can’t be everywhere at the same time to stop them all.”
“Maybe,” Beranabus says. “But that doesn’t alter the fact that Dervish will last about five minutes if we leave him here.”
“I’ll be fine,” Dervish snarls.
“No,” Beranabus says. “Your heart is finished. You’ll die within days. That’s not a guess,” he adds before Dervish can argue. “And you wouldn’t be able to do much during that time, apart from wheeze and clutch your chest a lot.”
“It’s really that bad?” Dervish asks quietly.
Beranabus nods. “In the universe of magic, you might survive. Here, you’re a dead man walking.”
“Then get him there quick,” Grubbs says. “I’ll stay.”
“Not you too,” Beranabus groans. “What did I do to deserve as stubborn and reckless a pair as you?”
“It makes sense,” Grubbs insists. “If the attacks were Lord Loss looking to get even, they’re irrelevant. But if they’re related to the Shadow, we need to know. I can confront the Lambs, find out if they’re mixed up with the demon master, stop them if they are.”
“Is the Shadow the creature we saw in the cave?” Bec asks.
“Aye,” Beranabus says. “We haven’t learnt much about it, except that it’s put together an army of demons and is working hard to launch them across to our world.”
He stares at Grubbs, and as he pauses, the whispers change. They’re softer now, almost musical. I feel uneasy, even slightly sick, but I’ve no idea why.
“You’d operate alone?” Beranabus asks.
“I’d need help,” Grubbs replies, and asks for Shark and Meera’s assistance. While they discuss that, I focus on the window again. I’m close to opening it. The whispers of the lights have almost died away. I feel worse than ever, as if we’re in great danger. But there’s no reason to be afraid… is there?
A pale green window opens. Beranabus still hasn’t chosen whether or not to let Grubbs stay. “Time to decide,” I tell him, and as I say that, the whispers spark up again.
“Very well,” Beranabus snaps at Grubbs. “But listen to Shark and Meera, heed their advice and contact me before you go running up against the likes of Lord Loss or the Shadow.” He picks up the unconscious Sharmila. “Follow me, Bec,” he says and steps through the window.
Bec doesn’t leave immediately. She’s confused, not sure of what’s happening. Dervish is busy saying goodbye to Grubbs and Meera, wishing them luck, cursing the fact that he can’t stay and help them. As he finally stumbles through the window, Grubbs has a short chat with Bec. Then she faces me. She looks more lost than I feel. As difficult as it is, I force a smile. “The world moves quickly when Beranabus is around,” I tell her, trying to cheer her up.
“What’s it like through there?” she asks, staring at the window with quiet terror.
“Bad.” My smile slips. “The Shadow’s promising the eradication of mankind and a new dawn of demon rule. Others have threatened that before, but it’s convinced an army of demons – even powerful masters like Lord Loss – that it can make good on its vow. We could be looking at the end this time.” I take a step into the window of light but don’t cross fully, straddling two universes at the same time. I wave Bec forward. “Let’s go.”
She looks back once, then follows me through the window to an oasis in the demon universe which Beranabus and I are familiar with. We’ll be safe here, for a while at least.
But I take no comfort from our security. I’m steady on my feet, maintaining a calm front, but inside my head sirens are blaring, my thoughts a million miles removed from werewolves, the Lambs, Juni Swan and the Shadow. I feel sicker than when I saw the dismembered babies in the hospital.
I’ve realised why the whispers unnerved