Demon Games [4] (8 page)

‘Of course not. I merely meant—’

‘Your choice of words is interesting,’ she said, interrupting him. ‘As are your recent experiences.’ She paused again. ‘Who performed the ritual with the Globe to bring you back?’

‘Alexa.’

‘Ah yes, the dhampir daughter. She is becoming quite a sorceress, I understand.’

Lucien ignored the insult. A dhampir was indeed the child of a vampire father and human mother, but the term was only ever used in a derogatory way here in the Netherworld. Hag was a powerful sorceress, and like all of her kind she hated the idea that another practitioner of magic might be moving up the ranks, acquiring skills and knowledge she herself might not have, or might wish to keep secret. Fights and squabbles would often break out over these things, and Lucien didn’t doubt that Hag might perceive Alexa as a threat. He waited for the old woman to go on.

‘It’s hardly surprising. She is a child conceived entirely through magic. Who would have thought that her mother possessed the power to reanimate that part of your anatomy for long enough to make such a thing possible?’ Hag cackled again, ignoring the look Lucien gave her.

‘She has clearly inherited all Gwendolin’s skill –’ the sorceress batted at a fat black fly that bothered the air in front of her – ‘and would seem to be even more powerful, if she has managed to perform what you have just described.’

‘And that is?’

‘To give you rebirth, Lucien. To bring the undead back from the dead.’ She stopped, looking across at him in a strange way. ‘You are unique, vampire. You have died twice, once as a human and now as a vampire, and yet here you are.’

‘That cannot be,’ Lucien said, shaking his head.

‘I try not to be concerned with what others tell me can and cannot be,’ she said, waving her hand dismissively in his direction in the same way she had at the fly. ‘What has become of the Globe now?’

‘It is useless. The magic that it contained seems to have gone. It is little more than a pretty black paperweight now.’

‘Shame,’ the old woman said with a shake of her head. ‘It was a much treasured artefact. But then Gwendolin always was very careless about the way she looked after – and protected – such things. Its disappearance explains a number of things.’

‘And what might they be?’

‘The Globe was made to heal
sick
nether-creatures. Sick – but
living –
nether-creatures. It was used by the demon lords to cure their armies, and it was coveted by all. As—’

‘I didn’t come here for a lecture on the history of—’

‘Be quiet, vampire,’ Hag hissed. ‘And you might learn something for once. Your spies here in the Netherworld do not know everything, oh no.’

Lucien bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘As you know,’ the sorceress continued, ‘if the Globe was used in conjunction with another ancient artefact – Skaleb’s Staff– it had another use: to bring the dead back to life. That is why Caliban sought it out and gave it to Gwendolin: to raise an army for him. A zombie army.’ A strange smile played at her lips. ‘He still aims to create such a thing.’ She paused, staring at him. ‘Many of the denizens of the Netherworld loathe the humans. They, like Caliban, would be happy to see the human race subjugated, but their numbers are too small for such a thing. The nether-creatures have never been large in number, and over the centuries war and infighting have thinned their ranks even more. If Caliban were to seriously try to attack the humans, he would need to enlist an army of some kind. Zombies are ideal for his needs. There is never a shortage of the dead to resurrect.’

Lucien waited for her to continue, but Hag seemed content to sit and let him work things through in his head. ‘But if the Globe is useless now, he has no means to raise his army.’

Hag’s eyes bored into Lucien’s.

‘Your brother – he seeks to bring Helde back.’

Lucien stared at the old woman, hoping for any signal that she might be joking again. ‘Helde? But she is long dead. She was destroyed.’

‘Ah, but so were you, Lucien. So were you. Twice.’

Lucien considered what he’d just been told. If Caliban could somehow find a way to bring Helde back, it would be a great triumph for him. She was an ancient being, who had been around at the time of the demon wars. Reputed to have been the most powerful sorceress of her time, she had an appetite for anarchy and chaos, and was particularly renowned for her ability to resurrect the dead, which earned her the title of Queen of the Dead. Lucien knew his brother would do anything in his power to bring such a creature back. Especially now that his own sorceress was gone.

He looked across at Hag. ‘She was reduced to ash. How can she possibly be restored to life?’

The fire spat. A small piece of burning matter leaped from the flames on to the stone grate where it glowed for a second before dying out.

‘How much do you know about Helde?’ Hag asked.

‘I know the stories of her exploits during the Demon Wars. How she had her captured enemies impaled on stakes and displayed outside her fortress. And how she resurrected these creatures once they had died so that they could suffer the same agonies all over again.’

‘And what of her death? What do you know of that?’

‘Very little. I know that she was found guilty of plotting to kill the demon lord Skaleb, and that she was sentenced to death by burning.’

‘So that she could never be brought back,’ Hag said with a nod. ‘Nothing can be brought back from ashes. Not even the Queen of the Dead, eh?’ She turned to look into the fire. ‘There is another version of the story of her death,’ she said. ‘In this version, Skaleb himself steps forward to the stake moments before the pyre is lit. He is said to have reached out and torn the sorceress’s heart from her chest and taken a huge bite from it before throwing it back at her feet.’ She looked at Lucien, her eyes taking in his own. ‘It is also said that the demon responsible for lighting the pyre stole that heart and kept it.’

‘And you believe that Caliban has found this heart, and that he will be able to use it to resurrect Helde?’

The old woman shrugged. ‘I hear rumours about many things,’ she said. ‘When you are as old as I am –’ she smiled at him mischievously – ‘as
we
are, Lucien, nothing really surprises you any more.’ She shifted in her seat, manoeuvring herself to get up. She hissed in pain, but slapped away Lucien’s hands when he leaned forward and tried to help her. ‘Your brother is fighting a war on two fronts. He is engaged in a campaign to take over the Netherworld and, thanks to the spineless capitulation of many of this realm’s so-called leaders, he has almost succeeded in that. Did you know that after defeating Orfus your brother simply disappeared? He did not press home his advantage and continue on into Molok’s fiefdom. Instead, he just upped and vanished, and nobody has seen him since. Now, I wonder what can be so important to him that he would do such a thing?’ She paused for a moment. ‘Caliban’s other war front is in the human realm. He still looks to subjugate the humans, and for that he needs a sorceress like Helde.’

Lucien remained silent for a moment, taking in everything that the old woman had told him. ‘He must be stopped,’ he said eventually.

On her feet now, Hag was at the fire, prodding it with a long, heavy-looking poker. ‘Yes, he must. And so must she. It would not do to have her regain power.’

The old woman turned her back to the fire, and studied the vampire carefully.

‘Does the sun still burn you?’ she asked.

‘What?’

‘The sun. Does it still burn you?’

The change in subject, coupled with the bizarre nature of the question, took Lucien by surprise. He shook his head, deep frown lines creasing his forehead as he looked back at her. He sighed. ‘What are you talking about, old woman?’

‘It’s a simple enough question. Does the—’

‘Yes, of course it does. Why?’ He wanted to get back to the subject of Caliban, and how they should go about finding him.

‘Have you tried to go into the sun since your recent . . . resurrection?’

‘And why would I do such a thing?’

Hag raised her eyebrows as if considering. ‘You know that the original vampires were not killed by the sun in the human realm, don’t you?’

‘I have heard that, but—’

She looked at him again, her expression unreadable. ‘Those first vampires were worshipped like gods by the ancient human civilizations. They were more powerful than any vampire that has existed since. But slowly their souls were destroyed by their lust for blood, and they were forced to become creatures of the night.’ She narrowed her eyes.

Lucien stood up. ‘I have heard enough of this nonsense. If you will not help me to find my brother, I will—’

‘I did not say I would not help you,’ she said, stopping him. ‘But you
have
changed, Lucien. You are more powerful than you have ever been before. I can see it, even if you cannot . . . or will not.’

Lucien waited, one eyebrow raised. ‘You said you would help?’

‘I will assist you in trying to stop your brother from unleashing Helde into this and the human world again, but I have no idea where he is. I will make some enquiries. I suggest you do the same.’ She stared at him, and again she had that strange look about her. ‘As to the other help you came here for, I doubt that my magic could do anything to help you any more, Lucien. You cannot hide from what you are forever, vampire. None of us can.’

Lucien turned to leave. He was almost at the door when she called after him, ‘I understand you had some trouble with a Necrotroph recently. And that a friend of your daughter’s had to hide here in the Netherworld – under the protection of the Ashnon. Is that all resolved now?’

There was something in the old woman’s tone that made Lucien turn to face her.

‘Why do you ask?’

The sorceress waved her hand dismissively. ‘Oh, no reason. Just an old woman being nosey.’

Lucien stared at her, certain that she knew something that she was not telling him.

‘Yes, it was all resolved before I left the human realm to come here.’

‘Good, good.’ Hag turned her back on him and shuffled back over to the stove she had been working at when he arrived. ‘Shut the door on your way out. It gets terribly draughty in here.’

Alexa and the Ashnon approached the peak of the hill, crawling forward on their knees and elbows so that they would be able to peer down the gentle slope to Molok’s citadel without being spotted.

Alexa pushed back the hood of the cloak that she wore and looked across at the fortress, noting the guarded fortifications dotted around the place. But it was the entrance that caught and held her attention, thronged as it was with a great gathering of nether-creatures. The Maug guards were just about maintaining order, stopping and conducting a brief search of each creature before allowing it to advance towards what appeared to be a giant turnstile, not dissimilar to those that she had seen at football grounds in the human realm. A huge demon with a head like a boar stood before the revolving mechanism, demanding that anyone wishing to enter the gate first show it a ticket.

‘What’s going on?’ Alexa asked. ‘What are all these nether-creatures doing here?’

The Ashnon frowned. ‘It must be the Showing Day before the Games,’ it replied, without taking its eyes from the scene below them.

‘The what?’

The Ashnon turned to look at her. ‘Sorry,’ it said with a small shake of its head. ‘The demon lords hold these elaborate events. Demon Games, they call them. It’s not dissimilar to the spectacles that used to be held by the Romans in the human realm. Nether-creatures never tire of any spectacle resulting in death and bloodshed, and it’s Molok’s turn to host the event. It was assumed, with everything else going on at the moment – Caliban’s efforts to overthrow the demon lords – that it would be cancelled, but clearly not. There is always a Showing Day beforehand, when spectators get a chance to see the combatants. Some of them – the best fighters with the most kills – have acquired an almost cult following.’

Alexa shook her head. ‘It looks like a ticket-only event. How on earth are we supposed to get in there to rescue Philippa with all this security everywhere?’

A great roar went up from the masses gathered outside the gates. Nether-creatures in the crowd turned to look back, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that had caused the excitement, and when those nearest the gates caught sight of the huge muscular creature that strode towards them, they joined in with the applause, many of them shouting and rushing forward, reaching out their hands, claws or tentacles in an effort to touch the newcomer. The celebrity was accompanied by an entourage of heavies, and these bodyguards drove a wedge straight through the centre of the crowd.

And through the middle of this path strode a demon the like of which Alexa had never laid eyes on before.

The creature had garish red skin, which made the yellow eyes in its head seem all the more ghastly and lurid. Around its middle was a huge ornate golden belt, like those worn by boxing champions. The belt covered its ample midriff, and below this it wore a simple leather loincloth. The only other items of attire were studded leather bands round its wrists. Large curved horns grew from the side of its head, spiralling like a ram’s and ending in deadly-looking tips. The demon’s head appeared almost too large for its body, which was itself huge, and it hunched, as if the weight on its neck and shoulders was almost too much to bear. Just before the turnstile, it stopped, turning to wave at the crowd.

‘Abaddon,’ the Ashnon muttered.

‘Who or what is Abaddon?’

‘
That
is Abaddon. The Destroyer. The most famous and powerful demon gladiator ever. There is a separate entry gate for the fighters, but Abaddon never could give up the opportunity to make a big entrance. This is a big deal for Abaddon and his supporters – he once fought under Molok’s name and was the demon lord’s champion, but just before the last Demon Games, he left to fight for another school: the demon lord Orfus’s.’

Alexa looked back down at the nether-creature, who waved one last time before turning to go through the turnstile.