Juni’s holding up the knife. She bends, presses it to the left side of my throat, makes a quick swipe. Blood spurts, drenching the blade. I go stiff, both as the werewolf in the past and me in the present. But then Juni puts her face to the cut, breathes on it and the wound closes. She moves the blade to the other side of my throat and does the same thing. Then she takes the red blade to the crack in the wall.
“What’s happening?” Beranabus asks, and I describe the scene to him. “Strange. I never heard of a demon being summoned that way. But Lord Loss is unique. Nobody knows why he’s the only demon master who can cross to our world, or how he does it. This must be a method he taught her.”
Juni smears my blood down one side of the rock within the crack, then the other. She steps back and chants more spells, louder, arms thrown wide. Finishes with a triumphant yowl, then leaps away from the crack, covering her eyes.
Nothing happens.
Juni lowers her arm and stares at the crack for a long time, then at the blade, then me. She walks across slowly and looks down, confused.
“Juni…” The word comes from deep within the rock. I place the voice straight away — Lord Loss. “Juni…” he calls again, distant, hungry, anxious.
Juni returns to the crack and talks quickly, softly. I can’t hear what she says. But then Lord Loss hisses a name that chills me to the bone. “Billy Spleen…”
Juni bows, sets the knife down, looks at me and grins nastily. “Stay where you are, beastie. I’ll be back for you soon.”
She leaves, not bothering to take the torch.
On the floor the werewolf struggles to tear free of its magical constraints. After a while the beast goes still. Its hands start to glow. The glow spreads and sweeps up its arms, hits its face and chest, then radiates down its body and legs.
The werewolf stands and cocks its head as if listening to someone speak. Then, with a noise that sounds like a growl of agreement, it races for the exit and heads for the surface.
As the beast lurches through the forest, I fill Beranabus and Kernel in on what’s happening. Beranabus is unsure what to make of Juni’s behaviour. “She seems to have been trying to summon Lord Loss. For some reason the spell didn’t work. But I don’t see what difference the other boy’s blood would make.”
“I don’t think she wanted Bill-E for the spell,” I murmur. “And I don’t think it failed. Lord Loss stopped her. He wanted Bill-E to be there when he crossed, so he could kill us both.”
“Perhaps,” Beranabus says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
The chase concludes. The beast arrives at Bill-E’s house. The back door is open. The wolf bolts inside and finds Juni picking up the unconscious Bill-E Spleen. Ma and Pa Spleen are both dead. The werewolf howls at Juni. She drops Bill-E as the beast leaps. They fight, my transformed self ripping at the albino with its teeth and claws, Juni fighting back physically, no time for spells. She screams my name and the beast roars. Juni screams my name again and again, each time adding more distress to the cry.
Finally, after a minute of Juni screaming, the werewolf releases her. She staggers back, bloody and stunned. The beast growls angrily, standing firmly between Juni and Bill-E, protecting the otherwise defenceless boy. Then the view goes blurry. I sense the creature changing. Juni sighs with relief, then spreads her hands and talks quickly, faking concern. “Grubbs?” she gasps. “Is that you?”
I open my eyes and the screen disappears inside my head. I stare at Beranabus, open mouthed. “I didn’t kill them,” I whisper. “I tried to save them. I protected Bill-E. I didn’t kill them!” The last sentence comes out as a sob. I bend over and weep with relief, all else forgotten, eternally grateful to be innocent Grubbs Grady again — not the loathsome killer that I mistakenly believed I was.
THE VETERAN
→ My first impulse, when I stop crying, is to rush back to Carcery Vale and warn Dervish and Bill-E of the danger they’re in.
“We already had this conversation,” Beranabus sighs.
“I don’t care,” I snap. “Juni didn’t just target me — she went after Bill-E too. She might not return to the Vale straightaway, but she can easily phone Dervish and ask about me. If she discovers he doesn’t know where I am or what really happened, she can return and…” I shake my head viciously, trying not to think of all the terrible things she could do. “We have to go back and warn them.”
“No,” Beranabus says softly. “Their welfare isn’t my concern.”
“How can you say that?” I shriek. “Dervish is your friend.”
“No — if anything, he’s my employee.”
“What do you…?” I stop, finally realising where I had heard Beranabus’s name before. Dervish mentioned it when he was explaining about his work. I should have put two and two together when he was talking about the warning spells at the cave, but my head’s still in a whirl. “You’re the boss of the Disciples,” I mutter.
“I wouldn’t describe myself that way,” Beranabus sniffs. “I don’t have much to do with them. I use the Disciples where appropriate, but I fight most of my battles in the Demonata’s universe, alone.”
“Not quite alone,” Kernel huffs.
Beranabus grunts offhandedly at Kernel, then addresses me again. “I didn’t form the Disciples. They came to me looking for leadership and training. I occasionally demand their help, but I’ve no vested interest in the group.”
“But Dervish is one of your people,” I argue. “He told me you sent him to Carcery Vale to protect the cave. You’re responsible for him.”
“No!” Beranabus barks. He brushes his long hair back from his face, glowering at me. “I sent Dervish to Carcery Vale, as I sent others before him, to watch for demons and their human servants, to report to me if any came sniffing in search of the cave. Everything else in his life was secondary to that task. He should have respected my instructions, kept a low profile, not got entangled with a demon master like Lord Loss. He brought this trouble on himself. I don’t have time to get involved in personal conflicts. Lord Loss has nothing to do with the cave, so I don’t care what he does to Dervish.”
“You’re a monster,” I sneer. “You’re no better than the Demonata.”
“Perhaps not,” Beranabus concedes. “But the Disciples understand that there are forces at work in the universe far more important than anything in their own lives. They accept the need to put human concerns behind them and focus on the nobler cause to which they’ve been called.”
“I don’t do noble causes,” I retort. “I care about Dervish and Bill-E. That’s all. They’re more important to me than anything else, even the safety of the bloody world.”
“He’s arrogant and stupid,” Kernel says, staring at me coldly. “He can’t see the bigger picture. You made a mistake bringing him here. Send him back. Let him perish at the hands of Lord Loss.”
“That isn’t your decision to make,” Beranabus says, eyes flashing. “Don’t forget your place. You’re here to serve.”
“Well, it’s true,” Kernel pouts.
Beranabus takes a steadying breath, then faces me again. “What I’m trying to explain,” he says, only barely restraining his anger, “is that Dervish wouldn’t want us to rush back. He understands the importance of my work and knows I don’t get involved in minor skirmishes — which is all this is. He doesn’t expect me to ride to his rescue. This quarrel with Lord Loss and Juni Swan is of his own making and he must deal with them himself.
“Having