Dark Calling (19 page)

“I’d gathered some of that already—you can learn a lot here if you keep your eyes and ears open, metaphorically speaking—but
there’s much more to consider now. I don’t think…”

He falls silent. Bec’s eyes half open, then close again. She nods softly and I realize he’s speaking privately to her.

Grubbs steps up beside me. “Can you find Bill-E?” he asks.

“Even if I could, would you want to speak to him like this?” I answer quietly. “Wouldn’t it be better to just free him?”

“But I never said a proper goodbye. There are so many things—”

“Kernel’s right,” Dervish says, laying a trembling hand on Grubbs’s shoulder. “Better to remember Billy as he was. If we can
set his soul loose, that will be enough.”

Grubbs nods reluctantly, then squints at Bec. “What’s going on between those two? Why the secrecy?”

“I was wondering the same thing,” I whisper.

“Such suspicious minds,” Beranabus barks. “You’ll need to trust each other if you’re to defeat Death and save the universe.
Haven’t you heard of teamwork?”

“You think we
can
beat it?” I ask eagerly.

“Not a hope in hell,” Beranabus chuckles. “But you have to try, don’t you?”

Bec’s eyes are open. She looks troubled. I don’t know what Beranabus shared with her, but I’m reminded of Raz’s warning. I
have a bad feeling. Suddenly I wish I hadn’t insisted on this mission, that I’d left Beranabus alone. I thought he could teach
us how to vanquish our foes, but all he’s done is predict doom and tell Bec something that’s set her mind awhirl. But awhirl
with what?
Deceit?

Before I can press the issue, a cluster of shadows to my left bunches together, throbs, then rises high above us like a cobra’s
head.

“Ah,” Beranabus sighs. “The behemoth awakes.”

“It’s alive!” Kirilli shrieks as the shadowy growth studies us ominously.

“This would be a good time to split,” Meera mutters.

The pillar of shadows smashes down on us before anyone can volunteer a plan. We’re thrown apart, yelling with panic. The werewolves
howl and lurch at the massed head of shadows, but it bats them aside with ease and rises above us again. As it does, more
shadows converge around us. Death might have taken a while to note our presence, but it’s moving swiftly to turn its imprisoned
souls against us.

“Bec!” I roar, dodging another of the Shadow’s blows. “How do we get out?”

Beranabus answers mockingly. “Can’t you open a window, Kernel? That was always your specialty.”

“No time!” I yell. “Bec?”

“The Kah-Gash,” she says shakily, reaching towards me. A twisting fist of shadows slams into her right arm, snapping it at
the elbow. She screams as her hand goes limp, then grits her teeth and unleashes a burst of energy at the fist. The shadows
shatter beneath the force of the blow. Bec clutches me with her left hand. “Grubbs!” she yells.

He’s already making his way towards us, lips moving silently as he speaks to his piece of the Kah-Gash. A sword of shadows
slices across his back, drawing blood, but he just grunts and pushes on.

Kirilli’s bouncing about like a Mexican jumping bean, dodging the spines and hammers that are forming and striking at us,
yelping with each narrow escape, the rags of his tattered suit flapping up and down to comical effect.

“That’s the way.” Beranabus laughs at the petrified stage magician. “Dance, fool, dance!” He cackles madly. I think he’s closer
to insanity than he realizes.

Grubbs reaches us and lays a powerful paw on my neck, the other on Bec’s. I immediately feel the Kah-Gash flare into life.
There’s not as much power as before, because we’re surrounded by Death, unable to draw energy from the stars. But I still
feel about ten times more powerful than normal.

As a hammer of shadows crashes upon us, Grubbs roars and it disintegrates. He releases Bec and me but the link remains. With
his hands, he claws at the shadows around us, ripping dark holes through the fog of souls. Bec and I follow his lead, using
magic to split shadows and blast through thicker banks of them. The others join in—except Kirilli, who’s still leaping about—and
we attack the formations that Death has sent against us.

“This way,” Beranabus calls, shooting ahead. I don’t know how anyone could find their bearings here, but I have to trust him.
It’s not like we have much choice.

We struggle after the fleeing shadow. I’m following Beranabus, the others are trailing me. Kirilli is the only one who doesn’t
come. He hasn’t looked around. I call his name a few times but he doesn’t respond. In the end I curse and leave him. I feel
bad, abandoning the Disciple, but you can’t save everyone. Some of the werewolves have already been killed. The power of the
Kah-Gash is fading, having no outside source to draw from. If I went back for Kirilli, I’d waste energy and time, and that
would prove the death of us all.

A noise grows as we push on. It’s a hissing sound, the spitting of a million furious snakes. Death is venting its rage. I’ve
heard all sorts of shrieks and cries during my years in the demon universe. Nothing sent a shiver down my spine as much as
this.

A spear of shadows strikes Grubbs just above his heart and shoots out the other side. With a roar of pain he falls to his
knees but is up again instantly. His fangs lengthen and as another spear arcs towards him, he snatches it between his oversized
teeth and grinds it to pieces, then spits them out.

A shadowy scythe splits the flesh of Meera’s lower back. She staggers, finds her feet, then is struck by a thick club. She
falls unconscious, but Dervish is there to grab her and haul her forwards. His face is flushed, his limbs are trembling, his
heart must be pounding fit to burst, but he carries on. I don’t know if it’s for Meera’s sake or his own, but he doesn’t quit,
even though it would be easier for him to lie down and die.

I’ve been hammered all over and I’m bleeding from a variety of cuts, like the others, but Bec’s hardly been touched. She’s
the strongest of us in this place of death. Grubbs might be the trigger, but Bec is pulling the strings at the moment, directing
the energy of the Kah-Gash, using it to keep the lights going, protect herself from the blows of the Shadow, and help the
rest of us as best she can. For such a small girl, she packs one hell of a lot of power.

“Here!” Beranabus calls. He’s come to a halt by a thick bank of souls. “This is a wall. Focus on this spot. Quickly—you’re
almost out of time.”

Bec unleashes a ball of energy at the wall. I do the same. Grubbs starts to, then snarls and hurls himself at it instead.
He hits the bank of shadows and rips into it, roaring as he scoops dark handfuls out of his way. The surviving werewolves
crowd around him and tear at the shadows too.

“Nearly there,” Beranabus roars cheerfully as Dervish and Meera are knocked aside, and I narrowly avoid being speared through
the center of my head.

A hole appears in the side of the Shadow. Light shines through, blinding after the gloominess of this unnatural realm. The
werewolves howl gleefully and double their efforts. The hole widens and I hit it with another blast of energy. Bec focuses
on the area around it. Grubbs rips at the shadows like a madman. More holes and tears appear. Some of the souls drift free
and disappear as they hit the air outside. Others follow, streaming after the first few. The holes widen, then the fabric
around them crumbles away. The hissing reaches its peak, only now it’s a scream of pain. Souls dart from their prison, sensing
escape, surging towards the exit from all parts of Death’s makeshift body.

Beranabus yodels enthusiastically, fighting the flow, holding his position. “Not bad,” he chuckles approvingly.

“Is that it?” I cry, hardly daring to believe it could be this simple. “Have we killed Death?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beranabus snorts. “Death can’t die.”

“But conscious Death… the Shadow… have we destroyed it?” I yell.

“No,” Beranabus says sadly, sounding more like his old self. “You’ve delayed matters, that’s all. It will have to find new
souls and create another body. That will take weeks, maybe a month or two. Then it will be back, stronger than ever. Having
learned from this setback, it will be more vigilant. You won’t pierce its defenses so easily again.”

“Then how will we beat it?” I shriek. “How will we win?”

“You won’t,” Beranabus whispers. Then he’s gone, whipped free of his prison, cheering wildly, to depart the universe of the
living once and for all, bound for whatever lies beyond. Bec yells a frantic farewell but I don’t think he hears. He doesn’t
care about life now or those who inhabit it. He’s done.

As I stare at the souls flying past, shocked by Beranabus’s parting prophecy, Death’s brittle shell dissolves and I fall through
the layers of shadow onto hard, dry land—and drop into the middle of an army of millions of demons.

R
ANKS
of monsters surround us, stretching far into the distance. This must be the world from which the Demonata are plotting their
invasion of Earth, the base from which they send troops when they open windows to our world. We knew an army was massing but
we never dared confront it. Beranabus was a reckless fighter but he wasn’t crazy. He knew we couldn’t hope to face this many
demons and walk away alive.

The demons have backed off from the disintegrating mammoth of the Shadow. They’re watching it with alarm, chittering and bellowing,
not sure what’s going on. It’s their leader. Death drew them together, promising them control of the universe and eternal
life. Now it’s falling to pieces like a punctured zeppelin. They don’t know what to do.

“There!”
shrieks an all-too-recognizable voice. Pushing myself to my feet, I spy her near the fore of the demons to my left—Nadia
Moore, AKA Juni Swan. She’s by the side of her eight-armed master, Lord Loss. Both are staring at us with a mix of hatred
and uncertainty.

I look around slowly, showing no signs of panic in case I incite the Demonata. Grubbs and Bec are nearby. Grubbs has also
seen Juni and Lord Loss. He’s taking deep breaths, preparing for battle. Bec is fixing her arm and doesn’t seem to be aware
of the trouble we’re in. Dervish is using magic to revive Meera, glancing around anxiously as he fans her back to life. The
ten surviving werewolves have gathered in a circle behind Grubbs, growling softly as they eyeball the demons. And a little
further over, hopping around, unaware that we’ve escaped the stomach of the Shadow, is Kirilli Kovacs.

“Grubbs,” I hiss. “Any ideas?”

“Can you open a window?” he mutters, cracking his knuckles.

“I’ve already started,” I whisper, nudging patches of light into place with deft flicks of my fingers, not wanting to alert
our enemies to the fact that I’m at work. “It’ll take a few minutes. Can you cover me?”

“I’ll give it a good shot,” he growls, then bellows at Lord Loss. “Where’s your mighty leader now? Death offered you the universe
and immortality. Hah!”

Bec finishes setting her arm and calmly walks over to Grubbs. She stands behind him, back to back. Dervish and a woozy Meera
shuffle up beside them. When Kirilli hears Grubbs, he stops dancing and stares around. The werewolves haven’t moved, awaiting
Grubbs’s command.

“Very commendable, Grubitsch,” Lord Loss says. His voice silences the mutterings and snarls of the other demons. He drifts
to the front of the army, Juni by his side. When he’s in the open, he looks at each of us in turn and smiles. “But Death cannot
be destroyed. You have merely inconvenienced it. A valiant victory, but you have only won a battle, not the war. You know
that. We
all
know that.” He addresses the last cry to the army of demons, raising his voice, and they roar back encouragingly.

“This feels like a reunion,” Lord Loss says, smiling sadly, the snakes writhing in the hole where his heart should be, blood
oozing from the many cracks in his pale red flesh. “So many familiar faces. Grubitsch, Dervish, Cornelius, even little Bec,
back from the dead and as tenacious as ever.”

“Master,” Juni murmurs, nodding sharply at me.

“I am aware of Cornelius’s efforts,” Lord Loss chuckles. “Don’t worry, sweet Swan, he will not have time to open a window.
I let him get this far in order to fan the flames of hope in their hearts. Now that those flames are flickering nicely”— his
red eyes flash dangerously—“it is time to quench them.” He shouts at the millions of demons,
“Attack!”

With a volley of deafening screams and howls, the army surges forward and smashes to the ground around us, a living wave of
chaos, barbarism, and death.

  We’d perish in seconds without the power of the Kah-Gash. But as soon as Lord Loss roars, Grubbs grabs Bec, leaps to my side,
and wraps an arm around me. Unifying our magic, he draws from the power in the air and erects a hasty but sturdy barrier around
us. Instead of driving us to the floor and ripping us to shreds, the demons deflect off the shield.