I try stopping it. I focus on breaking contact, making my lips stop, getting out of here before all is lost. But the magic holds me tight. There’s no escaping. Everything in sight shoots skyward, while the sky itself drops ever further, the tip of the funnel pulsing down… down… down.
Beranabus is frightened too. He was exhilarated when he saw the demons get swept away, but this has exploded out of control. He sees what I see — the literal end of the world. He sits on the ground – the only patch left is the bit contained by our bubble of energy – and gawps at the three of us, eyes wide, twin pools of confusion and fear. Maybe he thinks about killing one of us to stop it. But I don’t think he could. He doesn’t have the power.
The tip of the funnel is almost upon us. I gear myself up for one last effort, one final push to break the unnatural, destructive bond between me, Kernel and Bec. But before I can attempt anything, the tip of the funnel – blue, like the sky used to be – touches the wall of the invisible boundary.
A flash of light which is every colour. My body explodes, or seems to. I have the feeling of being everywhere and nowhere at once, both an entire universe and an insignificant speck. The funnel sucks me into it. Millions of panels of pulsing lights. Flying from one to another, bouncing around, moving so fast I’m creating a vacuum, sucking the tip of the funnel in after me, pulling it along in my wake. Dimly aware of Kernel and Bec’s magic working in tandem with mine.
We stop bouncing, but move quicker than ever. A cluster of purple lights flash, then bolt together and become a small window. We shoot through it. Yellow lights flash and join — we fly through. A series of flashing lights and windows, one after the other, faster and faster. Curious, I focus on the magic and realise Kernel’s the one creating the windows and directing us through them. I’ve no idea how or why. I don’t think Kernel knows either.
No sense of time or space. Just one window after another, the colours whirring and blurring, a fearsome noise building in the background. Then the lights fade. Unable to see anything now. Total blackness. As blind as Kernel.
The noise continues to build, so loud it could crush a continent. My ears burst. My skull cracks. My brain bubbles away to nothing. But that makes no difference. I still exist. I still hear, think and feel. The noise squeezes my soul. Pain that’s indescribable. No way to scream or release the pressure. A universe of agony.
Then, suddenly, the noise stops. I come to rest. The pain disappears. Delicious, soothing silence. Broken abruptly by a girl’s delighted laugh.
A SECOND CHANCE
→ At first I think the world and universe have been utterly destroyed and I’m just imagining the laughter. But then the blackness clears slightly. I realise I have eyes again. Blinking, I look around, but can’t make out much. It’s night and I’m in the middle of a cluster of trees. It’s not especially dark – the gleam of a full moon seeps through the branches of the trees – but it’s hard to adjust or focus. My mind’s spinning crazily in a bewildered whir.
“What happened?” Beranabus croaks, rising from a spot nearby. Kernel lies at the magician’s feet, groaning, cradling his head in his hands. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. My ears are searching for something. I’m not sure what it is, until after a few seconds it sinks in — the girl’s voice has gone.
Kernel mutters something, then bolts upright, screaming. “My eyes!” he howls. “The maggots! My eyes! I can’t–”
Beranabus covers his assistant’s mouth and whispers words of magic, a spell to ease the pain. Kernel thrashes wildly, then regains control and stops struggling, though his chest continues to rise and fall rapidly.
Beranabus removes his hand. “Are you going to be all right?”
“My eyes…?” Kernel moans.
“Gone,” Beranabus says bluntly.
“But… we must… there has to be some way…”
“No. They’re ruined. But don’t worry — magic will compensate. You won’t be entirely helpless.” Beranabus squeezes the back of Kernel’s neck. “We might even be able to knock together a pair of replacements when we return to the demon universe. If the gods are truly with us, you’ll still be able to see the patches of light and create windows.”
“Like I give a damn about that!” Kernel snaps sourly, but Beranabus ignores the hostility.
“Peace for a few minutes,” the magician says. “I need to determine where we are.”
He turns in a slow circle, eyes closed, breathing softly, trying to pinpoint our position. I know I should keep silent and wait for him to finish, but I can’t. “What did she do to us? The ground breaking apart and rising… the sky and funnel… the lights and windows… the noise and pain. What was all that about?”
“How should I know?” Beranabus growls. “Maybe she was trying to destroy the demons and the spell got out of hand.”
“But the sky! Did you see it? How did she do that? What–”
“Quiet!” Beranabus barks, opening an eye to glare at me. “How can I concentrate with you throwing stupid questions at me?”
“But she tore up the ground!” I shout. “She reversed gravity and brought the sky crashing down. And then she sent us… where? Is this Earth? A demon world? Are we dead?”
“I don’t know,” Beranabus sighs. “I don’t know where this is or how she sent us here — teleportation, I suppose, but I’ve never seen it done that way before. But I know why she did it.” He hesitates, then opens the other eye and looks at me with a shamed grimace. “I made another mistake. There have been far too many lately. I missed the sacrifice being made in the cave. I was wrong about Lord Loss not wanting to reopen the tunnel. And now I know my plan to close it was flawed.
“I told the Disciples that if we collapsed the walls of the tunnel, victory would be ours. The demons would be sucked back to their own universe. That’s how it happened in the past. I assumed the rules would apply the same way in the present.
“Bec told me they wouldn’t.”
“You mean, even if we’d succeeded, we wouldn’t have got rid of the demons?” I ask quietly.
“We’d have stopped others from crossing,” he says. “And those here would have lost much of their power. But the world has changed. There’s less magic in the air. My spells wouldn’t have dislodged the demons. The masters would have remained and even weakened they’d have had enough strength to crush humanity. I don’t think all of the Demonata were aware of that – they certainly didn’t act like they were – but Bec knew we were doomed. To spare us, she worked a spell with you and Kernel to get us out, so we could regroup and try again.”
“What’s there to try?” I sob. “If we couldn’t send them back this time, with all the Disciples to back us up… if destroying the tunnel won’t work…”
“There must be a way,” Beranabus mutters. “That’s why I have to focus. Time’s precious. Bec gave the demons a taste of their own hellish magic, but there’s no guarantee that those sucked up into the sky are dead. Even if they are, the tunnel’s still open. More can cross. We need to return and block their way. So be quiet and let me get my bearings. You can ask all the questions you want after that.”
He closes his eyes and turns again, reaching out with all his senses. Kernel has dragged himself away to sit against a tree. He’s exploring the empty sockets of his eyes with trembling fingers, picking out some dead maggots caught in the corners. I hobble over to check on him, to help if I can, to comfort him if he’ll let me.
Then I see the rocks.
My eyes have adjusted and the light from the moon is strong, even under the cover of the trees. I can’t miss the rocks. They lie scattered everywhere, but a lot are piled up on my