Demon Apocalypse Part 8

Something hits me hard in my upper back and I slam to the ground. Claws dig into my flesh. I'm momentarily stunned, unable to use my magic. I feel the end coming and a large part of me welcomes it-anything to break clear of this madness. But then the demon's thrown from me by a blast of magical power. I sit up, groggy, expecting to find Sharmila or the lady with the cane. But neither woman is anywhere to be seen. I can only see demons and Beranabus struggling against them desperately, hopelessly. Then who . . . ?

"n.o.body touches the boy!" Lord Loss bellows, and I realize I've been rescued by the demon master. He catches my eye and his smile broadens. "I'm saving you for myself, Grubitsch. You escaped on the airplane, but you will not wriggle free again."

The fighting clears around me, demons giving me a wide berth, turning aside to finish off the Disciples and the few remaining soldiers. The path to the hole clears-but it's also the path to Lord Loss. For a long second I stare at the demon master, hovering, waiting. I want to run away. No point trying to push on-Lord Loss will kill me before I get anywhere near the cave. The wise thing would be to turn tail and - "No!" I yell, deciding not to be a coward, to die with everyone else if that's my destiny, to perish slowly and awfully at the hands of Lord Loss if that's the cost of failure. But I'm not going to flee. I'm through running. It's time to fight.

I lurch ahead, summoning all my reserves of energy, speaking quickly to the magic within me, saying I know I've let it down in the past and held it back, but promising it a free rein now. We're in this together, and I won't stop until I'm dead or we've won. Will it help me?

The magic screams back its answer-h.e.l.l, yes!-and I feel power grow in the pit of my stomach, greater than any I've unleashed before. I don't know if I'll prove a match for Lord Loss and his companions, but right now I feel like I can't be beaten, like I'm the most powerful player here.

"Beranabus!" I shout, almost at the hole, risking a look back. He's surrounded by demons. Cursing, I aim a hand at them and let loose the magic. White flames leap from the tips of my fingers. They hit the demons hard and fire streaks through them like lightning. The demons shriek and peel aside, covered by flames they can't quench, some coming apart at the seams and dying instantly.

"Balor's eye!" Beranabus grunts, limping toward me, stooping to pick up the screaming and writhing Kernel, dragging him along. "I knew you were powerful, but not that that powerful!" powerful!"

"Oh, yes," Lord Loss says overhead. "Grubitsch is a most remarkable boy. That is why I chose not to fight him in the cave when I first had the opportunity to kill him. I did not care to face him alone in a place of magic."

"You were afraid!" I holler, reaching the mouth of the cave, sneering up at Lord Loss, feeling invincible. For the first time I believe we can do this-we can win!

"Afraid?" Lord Loss murmurs. "An ugly word, Grubitsch. And not entirely accurate. I was not afraid to fight you. I merely preferred to do so when the odds were stacked in my favor. After all, why fight by yourself when you can wait for . . . ?" He smiles wickedly and gestures to the hole.

I look down and my sense of triumph fizzles out like a live match that's been dunked in a bucket of water.

The tunnel leading down to the cave is full of demons. And I mean full. full. There are more of the creatures down there than up here. Thousands of evil eyes glint at me. An army of jaws open hungrily to reveal row after row of sharpened teeth. And in the claws of the beast closest to me-Dervish's severed, lifeless, blood-rimmed head! Another demon holds the hacked-off head of Reni Gossel. Frank Martin. Charlie Rall. Meera Flame. All the people I cared about. Bill-E's the only one missing-or maybe he's farther back, where I can't see him. There are more of the creatures down there than up here. Thousands of evil eyes glint at me. An army of jaws open hungrily to reveal row after row of sharpened teeth. And in the claws of the beast closest to me-Dervish's severed, lifeless, blood-rimmed head! Another demon holds the hacked-off head of Reni Gossel. Frank Martin. Charlie Rall. Meera Flame. All the people I cared about. Bill-E's the only one missing-or maybe he's farther back, where I can't see him.

"I made your friends and family my first priority," Lord Loss says proudly as my world burns at the edges and madness swooshes down upon me. "I told you I would punish you for humiliating me. A dreadful, all-encompa.s.sing punishment. This is how I respond to mockery, Grubitsch. Look upon my work and know at last the true, heartless wrath of Lord Loss."

"Grubbs!" Beranabus shouts. "They don't matter! Ignore them! We -"

"Do not disturb the boy," Lord Loss interrupts gloomily. "This is a time for true grief, not false promise and meaningless heroics. Look down, Beranabus. Even an eternal dreamer like you can't believe in hope now. It's over. The war has been decided. Mankind has fallen."

"Grubbs! We can still . . ."

The rest of Beranabus's words are lost to me. Lord Loss is right. We're finished. There's no way through. Everyone I knew-dead. Everyone I know who hasn't already fallen to the Demonata-soon to be dead. And everybody else, the billions of men, women, and children spread across the world, whom I never would have known, even if I'd lived a thousand lifetimes-they'll all die too.

I sink to my knees, the enormity of the moment overwhelming me. Beranabus grabs my right shoulder with one hand-still holding the wailing, thras.h.i.+ng Kernel with the other-and tries jerking me back to my feet. But I stay where I am, tears flowing, dread consuming me, hoping Lord Loss doesn't drag the torment out too long, praying for him to take pity on me and kill me quickly.

I rock back and forth, moaning, glancing around, seeing demons in the throes of celebration, corpses of soldiers and Disciples being pa.s.sed around like appetizers at a party. Their howls, grunts, and chattering start to sound like music to my ears or the chanting of a long, complicated spell. Then I realize-the sound isn't of demonic origin. It's coming from somewhere else . . . from the rocks beneath me.

I look down, expecting some new torment of Lord Loss's. Instead, I find the face of the girl-Bec-bulging out of the rock, eyes open, lips moving swiftly. Beranabus sees it too. His fingers go limp on my shoulder as he stares at the face, lost for words, forgetting all about the demons and our foolish quest.

"What's this?" Lord Loss frowns. "Little Bec, present and alert after all these centuries? Impossible. How can her soul have . . . ?" He smiles. "No matter. She is powerful, Beranabus, even more than you or Grubitsch. But she cannot save you. Trapped in the rocks, she can only mourn your sad pa.s.sing."

The girl speaks faster than ever, her lips a blur. I feel the magic inside me pulse in time with her chanting. I can't understand her, but the magic does, and it swirls around inside me, excited, trying to reach out to her. Since I've nothing to lose, I let it have its way. I step back mentally and let the magic and the girl communicate freely. As the pair link in some unknowable way, I feel my own lips moving, the girl's words becoming mine, like when I was relaying her previous outburst to Beranabus in his cave.

"Come now," Lord Loss says, descending gracefully, signaling to the demons around us. "Enough of this childishness. Surrender, Grubitsch, and I will go easy on you. Well . . . easier than I planned to."

"We'll never surrender!" Beranabus roars, coming alive again, releasing me and Kernel, bringing up his hands to engage the demon master in battle.

"Take him," Lord Loss says, yawning mockingly. The nearest demons howl and hurl themselves at the magician-then strike against an invisible boundary and bounce back off it.

"Impressive," Lord Loss murmurs. "But how long do you think you can sustain such a barrier, old man?"

"This isn't my work," Beranabus says, staring at me uncertainly. The girl's hands have formed now and stick stiffly out of the ground, grey and rocky. I take them, my fingers large and chunky in comparison to hers. We continue to babble, her, me, and the magic.

Kernel screams as maggots chew their way deeper into his brain. He jerks aside wildly and the demons eagerly grab for him, but he rebounds against the barrier and is hurled to the ground, landing by my knees. Beranabus stoops and puts his fingers to the boy's forehead. Magic flares. Maggots fall out of Kernel's bleeding sockets and shrivel, dead before they hit the ground. Kernel moans and slumps unconscious.

Beranabus faces me, features alive with hope. "Let's go!" He grasps my elbow. "If you can maintain this barrier, they can't stop from us from getting into the cave. We -"

My head whips toward him and the girl barks something, using my lips. I don't know what she says, but it brings a groan of desperation from Beranabus. "No! You can't tell me that. Not now. Not after all this. Not when we're so close."

I've no time to ponder his words. My eyes refocus on the girl's and lock on her peculiar stony pupils. We're speaking faster, louder, a fierce magical energy building around us, causing all the hairs on my body to stand up, then burn down to their roots. My clothes also burn away. So do Beranabus's and Kernel's. Within seconds we're naked and hairless, and still the energy builds.

Lord Loss senses danger. "Get them!" he bellows. "Destroy that barrier! Kill them all!"

The demons scurry to obey, but their efforts are wasted. The barrier repels them casually. The harder they throw themselves against it, the harder they rebound. Bolts of magic are returned magnified, tearing apart those who fired them. They try to claw it to pieces, rip it apart with their teeth, burrow underneath to attack from within the earth, all to no avail.

The energy is unbearable. It goes beyond all my notions of normal heat. I think this is what it would be like to hover within the heart of the sun. The rock is melting around the girl's face, but she remains, more of her form becoming visible as the stone recedes.

Screams of panic. With an effort I raise my head. The demons are staring at the sky, horrified and bewildered. Looking up, I see something incomprehensible. The sky is pulsing. pulsing. It's like looking at the underside of a trampoline while somebody leaps up and down on top. In the center, a funnel has formed, as if the universe is being pulled toward one point. As I watch, it throbs low, then pulls up high . . . low-high . . . low-high. And it might be my imagination, but it seems as if the tip of the funnel hangs directly over me, Kernel, Beranabus, and the ghost girl, Bec. It's like looking at the underside of a trampoline while somebody leaps up and down on top. In the center, a funnel has formed, as if the universe is being pulled toward one point. As I watch, it throbs low, then pulls up high . . . low-high . . . low-high. And it might be my imagination, but it seems as if the tip of the funnel hangs directly over me, Kernel, Beranabus, and the ghost girl, Bec.

Lights flicker across the distorted sky. Clouds burst into flame. The tip of the funnel pushes lower and lower, ever closer to us. The demons scatter, screeching and keening. Stuff like this happens every day in their own universe. They aren't bothered by magical madness there. But they didn't expect it in this universe of order and sanity. They don't know what it means or how to respond.

"This will not save you!" Lord Loss shouts none too convincingly. "Stay, you sc.u.m!" he roars at the fleeing demons. "Fight! We can break through this barrier and kill them. You must not . . ."

I tune him out. My lips are my own again during a brief pause in the spell. "What's happening?" I wheeze, directing the question at Beranabus. But he can only shake his head and stare at Bec and me. Then the spell starts again and I can't ask any more questions. My lips are Bec's. My magic and her magic-one. Our minds join. I get flashes of her life-a simple farming society, demons, a quest, warriors, a magician, closing the tunnel between worlds, sacrificing herself, trapped in a cave, her spirit somehow separating from her body, dying but not moving on, imprisoned, no way out, haunting the centuries, unable to escape the rocky confines of the cave.

Then I'm inside somebody else's head. I see a small, modern village, thousands of patches of light in the sky around me, a baby who looks oddly familiar, a young punk who . . . no, surely that's not Dervis.h.!.+ Yes, it is, a young and spiky-haired Dervish Grady, fighting alongside Shark, Sharmila, Beranabus, a dark-skinned man, and . . .

Kernel sits up and groans. He shakes his head groggily. His empty sockets turn left and right as if he's looking for something. They fix sightlessly on Bec and me. Trembling, moaning with pain, he reaches over and lays his hands on top of mine. My magic shoots out to him, then blasts back stronger than ever, drawing power from the blind teenager. His lips move along with mine and Bec's, his magic mingling with ours.

Our voices rise. The sky turns black, red, white. Rocks are ripping out of the ground, shooting upward, burning, turning into birds, cows, cars, people, then back into rocks. Now everything's rising, the ruins of trees and buildings, corpses, the demons. Gravity loses its grip. Lord Loss tries clinging to the invisible barrier around us but is ripped away and up. He hurls vile curses at us as he shoots off.

The world is coming apart. Everything's being destroyed. I'm afraid now, even more than when I thought the demons had us. Bec must be insane. Sixteen hundred years of captivity have driven her mad. She only wants to ruin, make everybody else suffer as she has suffered, tear the world apart. And she can do it. With my magic and Kernel's, she has the power to wreak a terrible, misdirected revenge.

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 farther, 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 gapes 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 that is every color. 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 cl.u.s.ter 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 flas.h.i.+ng lights and windows, one after the other, faster and faster. Curious, I focus on the magic and realize 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 s.p.a.ce. Just one window after another, the colors 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 realize 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 cl.u.s.ter 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. 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 realize 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 cl.u.s.ter 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 a.s.sistant'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 G.o.ds are truly with us, you'll still be able to see the patches of light and create windows."

"Like I give a d.a.m.n 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 cras.h.i.+ng 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 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. 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's happened in the past. I a.s.sumed 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 gotten 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 would 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 h.e.l.lish 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 left in a large mound. They can't be real. It isn't possible. I must be imagining them. Except I'm not. The magic inside me says they're genuine. It's smug. Confident. Triumphant.

"Beranabus."

"Grubbs!" he yells angrily. "I told you not to -"

"I know where we are."

He opens his eyes a fraction, suspiciously. "Where?"

"You don't need magic. Just look." I point to the rocks.

Beranabus frowns. Then he realizes he's seen the mound before and his jaw drops. "No," he croaks. "It can't be. This is a trick. Or somewhere that looks like . . ."

"No." I walk across, pick up one of the smaller rocks, then lob it down the hole on the other side of the mound-the mouth of an all too familiar cave. "We haven't gone anywhere. We're still in Carcery Vale."

Beranabus is striding around the hole, squinting at it, studying it from every possible angle. Every so often he stops, mumbles to himself, shuffles toward the hole, then starts marching again.

I'm with Kernel. I've wiped away the worst of the muck from around his eyes, using leaves and forest water. "How are you feeling?" I ask.

"There's not much pain," he says, "but there will be. You can delay it in circ.u.mstances like these, but not indefinitely. I'll need hospital treatment when the spell wears off. a.s.suming any hospitals are left . . ." His head turns left, then right. "Is it day or night?"

"Night."

"I thought so. But it was day when we attacked. I didn't think I'd been unconscious that long."

"You weren't."

"Then . . . ?" He leaves the question hanging.

"We don't know," I tell him. "Beranabus is trying to figure it out."

Kernel nods slowly. "How do I look?" he asks.

I stare into the vacant pits where his eyes once were. They're peppered with dead maggots. A few are only half visible, their heads and upper bodies buried in the dark flesh and bone of his sockets. "Fine," I lie.

Beranabus begins to laugh. I think he's laughing at my lie and I turn on him angrily. But then I see that he didn't even hear what I said.

"Of course," he chortles. "It's the only answer. There's just one way she could have channeled that much power, to such an effect. You and Bec are the other two pieces. That's the only thing that makes . . ."

He mumbles his way back into silence. I say nothing, waiting for him to get it clear in his head, so he can explain it to me in simple terms. I study him while I'm waiting. He looks weird minus his beard and hair, naked as the day he was born. I guess I look pretty strange too, as bare and hairless as an egg. I'd feel awkward any other time, but things have been so crazy in the past hour I'm not bothered by my ultrasmooth nudity.

Beranabus glances up and waves a hand at the trees. Their branches part, granting him an un.o.bstructed view of the moon and surrounding sky. His eyes dart from the moon to the stars. I can practically hear his brain whirring as he performs silent calculations. Then the branches rustle back together and he laughs again. "I knew it!"