Mammon (24 page)

AS THE SUN
spread its early morning light over the ocean, Haures knocked on the guest cabin door. ‘Joe?'

She pushed the door open and then stopped dead. Gasping, she pressed her hand against her chest.

In the middle of the room, between the bed and the far porthole, sat a crater. Her eyes flickered to the right, where something big had punched through the wall, exposing the port-side deck and the sun's rays shimmering on the water. Whatever had happened here, it had destroyed most of the floor, shredding the carpet and eating the floorboards below.

Haures sank on to the bed, her heart pounding.‘Where did you go?' she whispered. ‘What did I do wrong?' She stared at the wrecked room for a few seconds before standing up. On her pitiful trudge back to her cabin she cast a desperate, indecisive look over the railing.

Jump now, or wait for the boss to punish her?

She entered her cabin and sat on the edge of the bed, staring through the porthole at the gentle waves that ran towards the shore.

‘Coward.' As she glared at her reflection, her hair changed back into rich burgundy; her skin several shades paler. Her eyes transformed: baby blue turned green.

The door opened; Mammon breezed in. ‘All ready for our big day?' He stood checking his watch. When he finally looked at her, his smile turned to a frown.

‘Why have you shapeshifted?' He threw a tense look towards the ensuite. ‘You'd better change back while Joe is in the shower.'

‘There's no point,' she whispered. Shaking, she stared at the carpet. ‘He didn't stay here last night.'

Mammon's voice trembled. ‘What?' He turned to Andras, who was standing on the deck outside. ‘Check the guestroom.'

‘Yes, Master.' Andras jogged away, barking orders at nearby deckhands.

Mammon looked back to Haures. With a growl, he grabbed her hair and yanked her upwards so she was pressed against the wall. ‘I told you to stay with him!'

She gasped and lifted her hands in a prayer-like gesture. ‘I wanted to lead him on; make him believe that he would be rewarded after opening a rift for you. I . . . thought –'

‘You don't have the right to think!' He smacked her face. She cried out as his fingers squeezed tighter around her neck.

Passing crewmen peered in but looked away again. Just the boss, playing with one of his girls.

Mammon lifted Haures higher so that her feet were hanging. She clutched at his hand, struggling to pull his fingers away. Fear stabbed at her. Was he going to throw her into the sea?

She was caught in his stare, terrified.

He swatted her hands away and then stabbed cold fingers into her belly.

She gasped – was he going to impale her stomach?

‘You've disappointed me, Haures!' He threw her across the room. For a few, long seconds she was airborne until she smashed against the bed frame. Moaning, she rubbed her sore side.

‘Hey!' Andromalius loomed in the doorway. ‘Get your hands off her!'

Mammon stared, incredulous. He strode across and in a swift move, broke the young demon's neck. Andromalius collapsed on the floor.

‘No!' Haures cried. She began to crawl across to her lover's body. Mammon turned towards her.

Andras's heart thudded loudly as he returned from checking the guestroom. He couldn't wait to tell the boss about his discovery. Andras stood in the doorway, arms folded. ‘Joe's not on the yacht, Master.'

He glanced at Andromalius's prostrate form and whistled. Three crewmen jogged up to him. Andras nodded at the body. ‘Throw it overboard.' He watched as Mammon bent over the sobbing girl.

‘You're lucky,' Mammon murmured. ‘I'm fond of you.' He reached down and stroked her cheek with the back of his forefinger. ‘I am a patient man, and I will get what I want.

‘But you owe me, Haures.'

He stood up.

‘There's something you need to see, Master,' Andras said.

Mammon growled in his throat but nodded. He followed the young demon along the deck until they reached the guestroom. Andras opened the door.

Mammon stood, silently observing the wrecked room.

Rift damage.

He inhaled; the smell of incense lingered. An energy still filled the room – energy he'd felt centuries before.

The high demon's eyes glittered with recognition.

Mammon turned and gazed out at the horizon. A single, gutteral word escaped his throat.

‘Utu.'

INSIDE THE RIFT
, it was surprisingly calm. The universe didn't flash past like Grace imagined it would do. No galaxies, no stars. No blackness of space. Just this – the cloud, which was growing whiter and whiter as they moved on.

But then a wind came.

‘Don't panic,' Joe said. He stopped and stared into the rift. Grace held Ivan closer, her hands trembling. She sensed that something was coming. Then she saw them: a pack of bony creatures hovering nearby.

‘They won't hurt you!' Joe cast a commanding look around the rift; the Reavers turned and disappeared.

The glow grew brighter, eventually burning out all else until the lightning, even the clouds were bleached into a blurry fog of white light.

And then they were standing there. In a cottage, with the hint of a blue sky above and a green field rolling into infinity.

Carefully, Joe began to lower Ivan's body to the floor. Grace resisted, holding him tighter. ‘What are you doing to him?'

‘It's all right, Grace. We can put him here. Come on, help me.'

She knelt over Ivan, staring into his face. Her fingers stroked his cheek; she kissed him as a tear rolled down hers.

Nothing had changed. There was no spark in his eyes. Yet, he just looked like he was sleeping. In the distance, she thought she heard a voice say, ‘It's already begun.'

Joe stood up and looked around. ‘This is different from last time.'

‘To what?' Grace looked up and realised he wasn't talking to her. He was looking at an old man, wearing deep blue robes, standing in the middle of the room. Behind him, a large brown chair set off an amber glow. The room smelled sweet – like the candles that Mum used to burn. They used to clog up Grace's sinuses. But this scent didn't. Intangible, smokeless in nature – the smell seemed to follow the strange little man as he walked closer.

‘Hello again, Joe,' the little man said. ‘Yes, it will be different now Grace is here. Collective minds, collective reality – remember? Although, your sister seems to be strongly influencing the illusion.'

‘Hello, Utu. Yes, she's telepathic.'

‘She must like cottages.'

‘This is just like our grandmother's place. She died two years ago. Grace still misses her. She used to love visiting when we were small.'

Surprised by Joe's sudden insight, Grace could only nod. It was true – nothing had ever made her feel more safe than waking up in Gran's house to the smells of butter melting on toast and old-fashioned tea brewing in a pot. Wrapped up in a flannelette dressing gown, she would rush to Gran's old wooden table, her chair scraping on the black-and-white checkered linoleum floor as she took her place. Gran's wrinkled hands would still be warm from turning the pasties in her wood-fired oven. Joe sitting opposite, grinning with his jam-smeared teeth. The sound of horses whinnying outside the window. Oh, how she missed Gran.

The old man stepped forward and broke into her reverie. ‘Ah, little sister. How brave you've been.' He glanced down at Ivan's body.

‘Please.' Grace dropped to her knees. ‘Please help him.'

Utu nodded. ‘The healing has already begun.' He gestured behind him, to the kitchen table. ‘Come and sit with me, both of you. Leave your friend there so he can rest.'

‘But –'

Joe lowered his voice to a calming whisper. ‘He's going to be okay, Grace.'

Utu smiled as he took his seat; deep wrinkles almost obscured his eyes.

Grace edged on to her chair. ‘What is this place?'

‘This is Utu's rift.'

Grace looked at Joe. ‘Why does it look like –'

‘Gran's old place? You're doing that.'

‘Mmm.' Utu rested his chin on his hands. ‘You are obviously a strong telepath, so your desires are controlling what we all see.' He leaned forward and winked. ‘It's a little like your story,
The Wizard of Oz
. As if you have tapped your ruby slippers and thought of where you want to be. A normal psychic reaction to a moment of heightened trauma.'

‘It's so hard to believe.'

‘Humanity's weakness is its short-sightedness. Who was it – your William Shakespeare, I think. “There is more to heaven and hell than your philosophies dare dream of.”'

Grace nodded. ‘
Hamlet
.' She let out a hysterical laugh. Here she was, in an interdimensional rift, discussing Shakespeare with a strange little man called Utu.

‘He was a wise man. Recognised a demon when he saw one.' Utu smiled and leaned forward, ancient hands clasped. ‘Now. Do you have any questions for me?'

Grace stared at Utu. ‘You're human, aren't you?'

‘Yes.' The old man spoke slowly. ‘But my survival will be difficult for you to comprehend. It should be enough to say that I live somewhere in between worlds.'

She looked around. ‘Inside a rift?'

‘Yes. Somehow, the rift sustains my existence.' Utu picked up a lace doily and smiled, weaving his fingers through the fabric. ‘Of course, my tastes are slightly different.'

Grace nodded. ‘Why didn't you contact Joe earlier, if you knew all this was going on?' She shot an anxious look back at Ivan, and relief flooded her. He was breathing again.

‘I don't have a crystal ball, little sister. I can only see so much, and my visions do not just appear when I want them to. The first time I saw your brother in a vision was when he lost his temper at your birthday party.'

Ashamed, Joe looked at his hands.

Utu sighed. ‘I knew I had to get to him, that he would need my counsel. But that is not an easy feat. Forcing the rift from the other side takes a lot of energy, and so, I am tired. And then to discover that he was in the company of a high demon?' Utu shook his head. ‘I am very glad I reached him in time.'

‘A high demon?' Grace said. ‘Mammon?'

‘Yes. Although, I do not know him as Mammon Jones. I would not be able to recognise him.'

Utu lifted his hand and waved it across the air. ‘But I can tell you who he was, and more importantly, what he did long ago.' A cloudy image appeared – a four-storey square building with cascading plants, overlooking a river where small boats with white patchwork quilts for sails loitered.

‘The Hanging Gardens of Babylon,' said Grace.

Utu nodded. ‘During my youth we had a Scourge. The demons – or dev'h, as we called them – were loose. Children were being snatched off the streets, thievery and corruption were rife. Mine was a luxurious city of riches and gold, but beneath the glamour there was evil. My brother Balthasar lost his daughter, his beautiful Nineveh. Abducted, enslaved, murdered. Only nine years of age. Balthasar approached me, along with a small group of neighbours – all victims of the Scourge. They sought answers – I could offer them little, although I knew all too well of the evil that had layered itself over my city.'

The image vanished and another materialised – an earthy-coloured tower with walkways snaking up its sides.

‘Up the ziggurat they went. My contemporaries – men I'd studied and worshipped with – now surpassed me, taking the top positions in the priesthood. They did not seem overly concerned with battling the Scourge, but more with filling their pockets with gold. I sent Balthasar away so that I could meditate on the problem.'

He tapped his armrest. ‘In this very chair, I sat in trance. On the seventh day, at dawn, I opened a gateway into another world. There was a man waiting at the edge of that rift. At first I thought he was an angel. He told me that henceforth I was no longer Utu but Ferryman. His name was Marduk. He told me he was my predecessor, just as I told you, Joe, that I am yours. Marduk gave me the Gift of the Eye. From that day on, I could see the true faces of the dev'h: thief, merchant – and even priest. He also told me that a powerful dev'h – not born of this world – was the influence that wrought a Scourge on my city.'

‘Mammon,' said Grace.

Utu nodded.

‘When I invited Balthasar into my home, along with his friends, we made plans to go after the high dev'h.
I began to shadow the high priests all across the Empire.

‘You may not know that Babylon means “Gateway of the Gods”. Well, in the middle of the Syrian Desert there was a city called
Tarra Satana
. The Devil's Gate. Just outside of the town there was a temple that housed a sacred stone – a crystal that resonated to the sound of the Rift. You must understand this was much larger, much more powerful than anything I could summon. Three hundred years of acolytes praying around the crystal, surrounding it in dark vibrations, and the crystal remembered. It was here that I found the high dev'h, waiting on the steps that cascaded from the crystal's platform, surrounded by a host of my former colleagues – including my former teacher, a man I'd respected most greatly. To my eternal grief, my teacher was the man who opened the Dark Rift.'

‘He was a Ferryman too?'

‘No.' Utu raised a warning finger. ‘Merely a Gatekeeper. Unlike you, he could not enter a rift – only open one, with the help of the high dev'h.'

He waved his hand again – an image of black clouds moving across a desert plain. ‘The high dev'h looked at me and laughed, while his armies poured out of his Dark Rift and into freedom. He told me I was too late. I watched his hordes fly away to possess the people of Tarra Satana. I heard the screams across the sands and knew I could do nothing to save their lives.

‘But I also knew what I could do. I opened my own rift beneath the feet of the high dev'h. As he fell inside I heard the sounds of his physical body being ripped apart.'

Joe grinned. ‘The Reavers.'

Utu smiled. ‘You have an amusing attachment to the creatures, Joe. The last thing I heard as I stumbled away was the cracking of the crystal as it hit the temple floor – it was toppled over by the collapse of the stairway. When the crystal broke, the Dark Rift collapsed in on itself and caused the earth to implode, burying the temple.

‘Of course, that didn't save the innocent people of Tarra Satana. And if the high dev'h could bring that much damage to one city, imagine what he could do to the planet.'

Grace shuddered. ‘What happened to that city?'

‘I had to get rid of it. I couldn't allow other cities to be exposed. I knew that once the dev'h had finished with Tarra Satana, his minions would simply move on.' He bowed his head.

‘I destroyed the city. In some way I feel that is why I am here. This is my purgatory. Punishment for killing the innocents of Tarra Satana.'

‘But they were possessed!' Grace shook her head, frowning. ‘You had to do something!'

Utu sighed. ‘Killing a few to save many may sound like a logical choice. But every choice has consequences, like ripples on a pond.' He fell quiet, his eyes shadowed, head bowed.

‘Anyway, that is where the
sarsareh
began. Balthasar's three sons became mercenaries, and we tried to eradicate as many demons as we could. Of course, it has been a long and hard battle. In a way, we've come full circle, with the high dev'h returning to try and take Earth once more.'

Utu lifted his head, staring at something behind Grace. ‘Ah, now. There you see. All better.' Grace spun around in her seat. Ivan was standing up, staring at Utu. ‘What's going on?'

She flew forward and hugged him. ‘Do you feel okay?'

Ivan's eyes shone with a soft, loving gleam. He reached down and stroked her hair away from her eyes. ‘I'm fine,' he whispered.

He looked over at Joe. ‘Where are we?'

‘Joe brought you through a rift,' said Grace. ‘This is Utu. He's a Ferryman.'

Ivan offered his hand to Utu. ‘I am honoured.' Then he pulled Joe into a bear hug, thumping his back. ‘I owe you, my friend.'

With a grin, Joe nodded at Grace. ‘I couldn't stick the idea of seeing her mope around every day 'cause you weren't there.'

Utu smiled. ‘We've been talking about our encounters with Mammon – the high demon, who unfortunately seems to be on the loose again. He has been trying to get a hold of Joe.'

They returned to their seats.

Ivan listened, squeezing Grace's hand from time to time, as Utu told him the story of Tarra Satana.

Ivan nodded. ‘Diana had a theory that a high demon was behind everything.' He looked at Joe. ‘The bike accident, the truck's near-miss and your parents.'

‘Oh, my God!' Grace's voice trembled. ‘He was the one who killed Mum and Dad!'

‘And I killed innocent people because he tricked me,' Joe whispered.

‘You must not let the guilt take over, Joe,' Utu said.

Joe drew a deep breath and nodded. ‘Mammon asked me to open a rift last night.'

‘No!' Grace said. ‘You didn't, did you?'

He threw her an angry look. ‘Of course not!'

‘What did he say it was for?' said Ivan. ‘He cannot have given you the real reason.'