Werewolf Parallel (9 page)

Cameron, Morgan and Eve set up makeshift beds made from old blankets at the front of Scott & Forceworthy’s music shop. They wanted to be as far away from the dome-covered lump as possible. It was like having a spy in the building, Eve said, but, as Morgan pointed out, at least they knew where it was – and what it was up to.

“It’s either stay here with the lump,” Cameron had said, “or go back to the house with Weavers and whatever else might try to gatecrash…”

Faced with that choice, they had decided to spend an uncomfortable night on the floor. Each had taken it in turns to keep watch while the other two slept, but the lump had showed no signs of stirring.

The next morning, Cameron tentatively lifted the dome while Eve brandished a claymore she’d dug out the storeroom, and Morgan hefted a fire extinguisher. The lump appeared inactive: pale grey and wizened like an ancient mushroom.

“Perhaps it’s dead,” Eve said. “It was only a baby one. Just a lump of chin really.”

“Don’t go feeling sorry for it.” Morgan lowered the fire extinguisher. “It’s still part of Grey.”

She nodded and poked the lump with her sword. It
parted around the sword’s tip, but the blade came out intact. “I think the energy’s gone out of it. If we wait a bit longer, we might be able to scrape it off the desk.” She gave an amused snort. “Like an enormous dried-out bogey.”

“I don’t even know what you mean,” said Cameron in a monotone.

“As if!”

“I don’t like it. If this one’s powered down, that must mean Grey’s active somewhere else.” Cameron frowned. They’d snuck away from Hogg’s chambers as the Grey morass seethed and churned, not certain how long they would have before the flask’s contents burst out… “If we’re gonna stop the Greys and save the Parallel, I need to know what they’re up to.”

“Do
we
have to save the Parallel, then?” Eve looked doubtful. “Is that what we do? I mean, I want to – but I don’t exactly think we’re superheroes.”

“Yeah. Just two werewolves, and the Girl who Grew Up in her Sleep.” Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Really ordinary. Bit boring, maybe.”

“You know what I mean! We’re just us. Eve and Cameron and Morgan, and our little shop. I was hoping it would go back to normal if we stopped the Court.” Eve bit her lip. “Daft, I guess.”

“If Grey and Black manage to shut down the Parallel, there
is
no business,” Cameron said. “Don’t you see? What happens then? I’d have to go back to school, try and get a proper job, and you – I don’t even know where they’d try and make you go. And what about Morgan? If the Parallel goes, he might get stuck in Daemonic with the pack.”

“Morgan says, ‘stuff the pack’. Bunch of over-trained Yes Dogs.” Morgan scratched at his neck and squinted. “Reckon I belong here.”

“Thanks, man.” Cameron shot the blond wolf-boy a grateful glance. “So, you see? We’ve got to fight back. We can’t let this happen.”

Eve hesitated. “Yes, you’re right. I think I just needed to hear you say it.” She patted both boys on their shoulders. “Ok, Super-Team. Where do we start?”

They all met back at the shop later that same afternoon. Cameron could instantly tell from the expression on his friends’ faces they’d all seen the same thing.

“It’s too late, isn’t it?” he said, “It’s already happened.”

Taking a seat on a trombone case, Eve leant forward and began her story. “I went to the daemon market down in the Cowgate. You and Morgan had always made it sound so lively and charming: all the paper lanterns, the smells of frying food, the stall-holders singing out, selling their wares…”

“Load of shonky rip-offs and dodgy-curry merchants,” Morgan rumbled. “Sooner cut your throat than give you a discount.”

“Was it? I wouldn’t know.” Eve smiled sadly. “It’s gone. The stalls are empty, and the lanterns are all torn down. There was just one seller left – an old selkie woman, frantically packing her charms into a bundle. She nearly jumped out of her whiskery skin when she saw me.

“‘Ach, they’re all awa’, dearie. Packed and run awa’. Couldna stand up to they grey bogles.’

“She glanced around and beckoned me closer. Her breath was pretty bad – like rotten seaweed.

“‘Wicked things like that, they lurk and spread. Start off as a mouldy smell at the back o’ yer cupboard, and you pay no heed. Before you know it, they’ve got a hold, and nothin’ ye can do will shift ’em.’

“She put a fishbone charm in my hand and said I should wear it for protection.

“‘I’m awa’ back to the shore. I’ll put ma seal face on, swim out into the water, and look for a wee island to take shelter on. There’s no place in the Parallel for the likes o’ me now.’”

Eve pulled the charm out and showed it to the boys: a translucent network of thin bones had been woven into a medallion.

Morgan made a disgusted noise. “For all the good that’ll do, you might as well hang a fish supper round your neck.”

“Don’t laugh, Morgan. She was terrified. She’s too old to survive out in the North Sea for long, this time of year. The Parallel is her home.” Eve put the bone charm down. “And that’s not all. It was getting dark as the old creature left, but it wasn’t like a regular winter’s night at all. It was as if the whole marketplace was turning fuzzy and fading out… I didn’t like it. I shifted back to the Human World and came home.” Eve’s face paled and she wrapped her arms around her body. “I don’t know what might’ve happened if I’d stayed.”

“Yeah. Not good.” Morgan shuffled on his improvised packing-case seat. “I saw something like that as well…

“I started by heading for Kitty’s Tavern, to listen for the latest gossip, you know? But none of the doors were working – they’re all blocked off, even the one hidden under Greyfriars’ Bobby. Looks like everyone’s
running scared – even things that were pretty scary to begin with. The Temperatori’s shrine hasn’t got an egg on it, the Joyful People of the Banner are lookin’ grim, and the Portobello Pleasure Gardens have turned post-apocalyptic. They’re all emptying out – and shutting down. I thought I’d go see Marlene as a last resort.”

“Oh?” said Eve lightly. “Who is Marlene?”

“Och, you know, the fey trader. Big on glamour, low on integrity. Hangs out in that upside-down tenement beneath the Royal Mile. I was climbing the rope ladder, thinking
aye, aye, it’s pretty dark down here
, when I pass her fluttering off in the opposite direction. She screeches at me as she swoops by, ‘Night is falling, wolf kin. If you had any sense in your dog-skull you’d leave before it all goes black.’ And that’s when I realise – the tenement’s gone. It’s not there! There’s nothing but me and a ladder, and that’s starting to look glitched-up as well…

“So I got out sharpish.”

“Montmorency’s leaving too,” said Cameron, taking up the tale. The half-daemon shopkeeper was an old ally of his, based on a dislike of Cameron’s scheming grandmother. “He said he’d had some ‘heavy-handed persuasion’ to go. Says he’s heading to France to wait it out.

“I asked how that’d help. I mean, doesn’t the Parallel run there as well?

“‘Course it does, lad. “
Le Parallèle Diabolique
,” the French daemons call it. Think they invented it too. Well, they’re welcome to it – I’ll be staying clear. It’s time I took a holiday anyway. I’ve got enough money saved to last me till June. I’ll be ok – unless this thing spreads on out.’

“‘How can it spread?’ I asked.

“‘Parallel’s all connected, isn’t it? Starts at the fissure point in Edinburgh, and runs right through the heart of the Human and Daemon Worlds.’ And Montmorency slapped at his chest. ‘Touches those of us with the Inheritance as well. Start messing about with it, you don’t know what’ll happen.’

“He picked up his suitcases, locked the door of his shop, and looked up at the sky like he was checking for rain. ‘Reckon I’ll get a few months in the sun before it’s all over.’ He reached into his shoulder bag, and handed me his netbook. ‘Here, what do I need this for, weighing me down? You take care of it, lad, till I’m back, eh? Don’t go crashing my high score on
Monster Roller Derby
, or hacking my emails.’

“Then he put on his dark glasses to cover up his daemon eye, pulled down his bobble hat, and was away down the road…”

Cameron drew the computer from his backpack. Morgan looked at it hopefully. “Any good? Bet his tunes are rubbish.”

“I didn’t look at them. His new netbook, though… why would he give it away?” Cameron shook his head. “He’s acting like he’s not coming back.”

Cameron had planned to explore further on the Parallel, but the closer he got to Grey’s devastation, the more the wolf in his head became uneasy, whining and howling like a nagging headache.

He massaged his temples. “Morgan, what do you do when the wolf won’t lie quiet?”

“How do you mean, mate?” Morgan’s brow furrowed.

“You know. When it won’t shut up?”

“I don’t follow. The wolf is you. You are the wolf.” Morgan sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Unless you’re asking – how do I stop worrying about things? And the answer to that is – I don’t worry.” He grinned rakishly. “Things are what they are. You gotta make the best of them.”

“Such wisdom from one so scruffy,” said Eve.

Morgan shrugged. “Works for me.”

Cameron studied them both.
They didn’t get it, did they
? Not even Morgan could understand what was happening inside of him. The wolf was looking out for him, protecting his life, but increasingly it felt like it had a mind of its own.

He let out a frustrated breath, and pushed the thought away.
Deal with the problem at hand, Cam
.

He flipped the lid on Montmorency’s laptop. “Mad isn’t it? I’ve been hanging about the Parallel so long, if someone says ‘web’ I think Weaver Daemon…”

“Makes sense,” said Morgan. “They’re sneaky. You’ve gotta watch out for them.”

“That’s not what I meant. The point’s this: we’ve been chasing Grey, but Black’s involved too. That means we have to investigate in the Human World as well.
Black’s
human, so he must have a trail online. Everyone does.”

“The ‘great Dr Alasdair Black’. That’s what Grey called him.” Eve clapped her hands. “We can look him up!”

“Way ahead of you.” Cameron beckoned Eve and Morgan to cluster round the screen. “I found Black’s University profile page. Look.”

There was a black-and-white headshot of Dr Black looking poised and determined, and below it a list of the classes he taught and his publications and research
interests.

“So he’s a physicist,” said Eve. “
That
sort of doctor. Studying ‘dark matter and the structure of the material universe’.” She pulled a face. “Fascinating. But what does it mean?”

“I googled. Dark matter is something to do with the hidden mass of the universe. Scientists reckon there’s not enough stars and planets and stuff to balance everything out, and explain how gravity really works… I didn’t entirely understand. But I got to looking down his list of sources for his current project, and something leapt out.”

Eve read the block of text that Cameron highlighted.

“‘On the True Nature of this Human Sphere, and its Maleficent Daemonic Counterweight’: an unpublished codex by Alexander Mitchell, retrieved from private collection.”

“Mitchell was one of the World Split dudes,” said Morgan, “along with the daemon-mage, Astredo. It was them that tried to push the Human and Daemon worlds apart, so there’d be no more crossovers – and accidentally created the Parallel instead.” He gave an amused grunt. “Boom! Big accident.”

“You amaze me. You
know
things.” Eve flared her eyes in mock surprise. “I mean, I knew that, but so do you…”

“Course I do.” Morgan glared. “Everyone on the Parallel does. It’s basic.”

Cameron nodded. “It’s one of the first things Gran taught me. She said how vastly, madly dangerous the magic was as well. The place Mitchell worked his magic rite, up on Arthur’s Seat, is still a source of power.” He shut his eyes for a second. “That’s why she took me
there, on the anniversary of the World Split. To try and use that power…” He tailed off, remembering things he’d prefer not to.

“And the power took her away,” said Morgan gently, “but you came back stronger. Wolfier!”

“Something like that.”

“Hold on.” Eve waved her hands in an agitated fashion. “Watt was fixing a machine called a ‘World Engine’. He was going to use it on the Parallel… What if that’s Black and Grey’s plan? What if they want to finish what Mitchell and Astredo started, all those years ago?” She leapt to her feet. “They empty the Parallel, run the Engine – and totally separate the Human and Daemon worlds!”

Morgan whistled. “Black’s just about mad enough to do it.”

“And they’re clearing out the Parallel so they can get started,” added Eve.

“Turning it back into the void between worlds it originally was,” said Cameron. “World Split v 2.0.” Suddenly, his face contorted and he clutched at his head and cried out.

“Cam! Are you ok?” Eve’s voice filled with concern.

“It’s the wolf – the wolf again. He
really
doesn’t like it when the Parallel’s threatened. Doesn’t like it at all.”

“I’ll get you some water.” Eve started to move to the kitchen.

“Mate, you’ve got to stop talking about ‘the wolf’ like that,” said Morgan urgently. “It makes no sense. It’s just
you
–”

“Oh, leave him alone,” Eve shot back over her shoulder. “Can’t you see he’s not feeling well? I’ll see if
I can find an aspirin –” She stopped short and gasped. “
The lump! It’s broken out!
”

Both boys leapt to their feet and ran for the back of the shop. The lump had swollen grotesquely, cracking the dish that confined it. Fragments of china dotted its puffball skin while four wooden legs protruded at odd angles out the bottom.

“It got out the other way: eating through the base,” Morgan shouted. “Cunning little…”

Eve tried to edge past the quivering mass. The remaining table stumps were swiftly drawn in. The blob
glooped
, growing in size, and rolling like a monstrous tumbleweed to block her off. She turned and darted the other way, but again it followed, stretching out its grey dough consistency until it spread at waist-height across the width of the store.