“What about Lord Loss?” I cry. “And Juni?”
“They didn’t bother me. Lord Loss doesn’t want to open a tunnel. He prefers things the way they are. I considered talking with Dervish about Juni, but I didn’t know if I could trust him. For all I knew, he’d pledged himself to her dark cause and was working with her to trap me.”
“Dervish would never do that,” I growl.
“Probably not,” Beranabus agrees. “But he might have fallen under her spell. She could have been using him to strike at me. I decided not to reveal my presence. I sent Kernel back here and remained hidden, to ensure no demons came to make use of the cave. I planned to close the entrance again and let Dervish know about Juni before I left. But then I spotted you…”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I’m no fool. I can see where this is heading. But I say nothing. I act ignorant, hoping I’m wrong, not wanting to put ideas in his head if they aren’t already there — though I’m certain they are.
“You’d hidden your magic masterfully,” Beranabus says, “but it had started to spill out by the time I arrived. I could see it shining through.”
“Dervish and Juni didn’t,” I mumble. “Juni tested me, searching for magic. She couldn’t find any.”
“Of course she could,” he barks. “You still haven’t seen through all of her deceptions. I don’t blame you. It’s hard, when you’ve trusted someone, to see them as they really are. You know Juni was working against you all this time, but you still think of her as a friend.
“Juni’s far more powerful than Dervish. She knew the magic was there. Those tests were to check how strong you were, how much of a threat you posed, so she and Lord Loss could plan their assault. I don’t think she was able to find out as much about you as she hoped. That’s why they decided to confront you in the cave. They chose a place of magic, where Lord Loss would be more powerful. When you escaped, they switched to the aeroplane, figuring that up in the air you couldn’t escape — at worst, they could crash the aircraft and kill you that way.
“Juni’s been manipulating you at every step. Worming out your secrets, finding weaknesses to use against you. She’s a cunning vixen. She artfully drove a wedge between you and Dervish. Even summoned the Lambs to make you believe he’d sacrificed you to the Grady executioners.”
“You mean he didn’t?” I gawp at Beranabus, ashen-faced.
“Of course not,” Beranabus grunts. “You know your uncle. You saw how he fought to save your brother. He would have done the same for you. He’s not a man to give up on his loved ones.”
I feel cold inside. I thought Dervish had betrayed me, when in fact I did the betraying. I should have known he wouldn’t call in the Lambs without discussing it first. Dervish always played straight with me, ever since he came to visit me in the asylum and told me that he knew demons were real.
“I’ve been a fool,” I mutter.
“Aye,” Beranabus says. “But we all make fools of ourselves one time or another. It’s part of being human. But that’s beside the point. I was talking about…” He frowns and looks to Kernel for help.
“You’d just spotted the shining beacon of magic that was Grubbs Grady,” Kernel says drily, and I realise he’s jealous of me.
“Of course. Forgive me, I lose track of my thoughts so easily. Old age and more battles with the Demonata than I care to remember. Yes, I was on the verge of leaving Carcery Vale, satisfied that no demons were lurking in the wings, when you caught my eye. I saw your magic, the struggle taking place within you, the power you could wield if you survived. It’s not often that I come across such a promising find.
“I stayed to track your development. I staked you out and let you see me from time to time — I hoped your magic would respond to mine. I was trying to load the deck in my favour. I’d apologise, but that would be hypocritical of me.”
“Get on with it,” I snarl.
“There’s not much more to get on with. I spied on Dervish and Juni when I wasn’t following you. I knew that witch was up to no good, but I wasn’t sure of her exact plans. Then I saw the Lambs arrive. You burst out of the underground cellar. I trailed you to the cave, but didn’t follow you down — Juni would have sensed my presence. I waited while she came, dealt with you and left again. Then you burst out of the cave. I pursued you to your brother’s house, then the airport. When I realised Juni planned to board an aeroplane with you, I guessed what her plan was and I followed.”
“You could have stopped her,” I say icily. “You knew she was going to kill the other passengers. You could have attacked. Ripped me from her before we got on.”
“No,” he says. “I wasn’t sure. She might not have struck on the aeroplane. Or perhaps she was taking you somewhere else to meet Lord Loss. Maybe you were in league with her. I weighed up all my options and I decided to wait. It was the right call and if I had to make it again, I’d do exactly the same thing.”
He scowls at the disgusted look I give him, then waves the matter away. “And here we are,” he says. “The end of the story.”
“Not quite,” I reply. “You still haven’t said what you want me for, why you rescued me and brought me here.”
Beranabus frowns. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“Yes. But I want you to say it.”
“Very well. You’re a magician. I want you to become my assistant, like Kernel, cross into the universe of the Demonata with us, and spend the rest of your life by my side, killing demons.”
THE MONOLITH
→ Sitting on my blanket, legs crossed, hunched over, fingers locked together. Beranabus is at his table, sorting through papers, muttering and whistling. Kernel is exercising, stretching and limbering up. They’re setting off to fight demons shortly. They expect me to go with them.
It’s crazy. I told Beranabus I wouldn’t do it. Leave my own world? Enter the Demonata’s realm? Fight monsters like Lord Loss every day? No bloody way, Jo-bloody-sé!
Beranabus didn’t argue. Just shrugged and said we all have to make our own decisions in life, then went to get ready. I sat by the fire a while longer, watching him and Kernel prepare. Then came back here, where I’ve been sitting for the last half-hour, silent, numb.
Kernel finishes stretching. Bends, touches his toes, then rises in the air. Slowly turns head over heels. Lands softly on his feet and lets go of his toes. Spots me watching him and walks over. “Having fun?”
“It’s better than a circus.” I stare up at him, his scars and bruises, the marks of past battles, the fear in his eyes. “How do you do it?” I whisper. “I’ve fought demons. I know what it’s like. How do you find the courage to…?”
Kernel shrugs like it’s no big deal. Licks his lips and glances at Beranabus, then sits beside me. “I never really had a choice,” he says. “I had a brother. Well, I thought… No, let’s leave it at that — it gets too complicated otherwise. He was kidnapped by a demon. I followed after him. Met Beranabus and some others — your uncle was one of them.”
“You know Dervish?” I ask, surprised.
“Yes. I haven’t seen him in thirty-odd years, but we were good friends back then. I wouldn’t have survived without him. Is he still a punk?”
“What?” I frown.
“He was a punk. Spiked hair, earrings, leather jacket, chains.”
“No,” I chuckle. “We must be talking about a different guy. Dervish was never…” I hesitate. How many demon-fighting Disciples