Hell's Heroes

LIGHTS OUT

Kernel is already dismantling the window as I crash through and roll across the ground. “I thought we’d seen the last of you,” he says as the window blinks out of existence, securing our safety.

“You wish.” I grimace as I stand. I took a hammering in Lord Loss’s realm, not least to my face. That was fine when I had the magical energy of the demon universe to tap into. I could numb the pain. But back on Earth I feel like I’ve been run through a meat processor.

Shark groans as he pries the remains of the snake from his flesh. Blood gushes from the hole it leaves. Timas makes a tourniquet out of his belt and tightens it around the ex-soldier’s arm.

“I never liked snakes,” Shark wheezes. “Now I bloody hate them! I’ll have nightmares about that.”

“You don’t have enough imagination for nightmares,” Kernel laughs, slumping beside his friend. He runs an eye over me and frowns. “Are you going to be OK?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, coughing up blood.

“The left side of your head looks like it’s been caved in with an iron.”

“Thanks for pointing that out.”

“I could take you to a hospital, but I doubt they’d be able to do much for you.”

I wave away his concerns. “I’ll be fine. A short rest, then we’ll go somewhere magical and I’ll patch myself up.”

“She was a vindictive little wench, wasn’t she?” Timas says cheerfully, as if discussing a cat who’d shown her claws.

“I’d have drowned her if I’d known what she was going to turn into,” Kirilli snarls. “She saved me on the ship when we first met. I thought she was kind. But she murdered those people as if they were ants.”

“We’ve lost her,” I sigh. “She belongs to Lord Loss and Death now. We’ll have to kill her the next time we meet.”

“You think you can?” Kernel asks quietly.

“Over there, no. But here, where they’re weaker? We stand a chance.”

Silence falls as everyone thinks about Lord Loss, Bec, Death. We know we’re done for. I can see it in their eyes. We can talk the good talk all we want, but the demons are stronger than us, even on our own turf. Winning is a dream, not a real possibility.

Kirilli lets out a deep breath and chuckles wryly. “We left Moe behind. I’ll miss that dumb hairball. He might have thought of me as lunch, but I had a soft spot for him all the same.”

“There’s only one of the original werewolves left now,” I nod. “Assuming Larry hasn’t been killed.” I glance at Kernel. “How long have we been gone?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. But it’s too long, no matter what.” He backs away from me, his expression changing. “You know what I’m going to say.”

“You want to leave?”

“It was madness, staying when I did. I have to go.”

“You’re our secret weapon,” I tell him, knowing it’s a waste of breath but feeling like I should go through the motions. “With your help we can make sneak attacks, dart in, strike, nip out again. If you abandon us, they’ll grind us down.”

“They’ll grind you down regardless,” Kernel sighs. “And you’re forgetting, my eyes are no good here. They’re already starting to sting. A day or two and they’ll be gooey blobs again.”

As I’m trying to think of some fresh way to argue with him, Kirilli clears his throat. “Why don’t we ask for help from the Old Creatures? If they told you the truth, they have the power to hold the demons back. If we put a strong enough case to them…”

Kernel shakes his head. “They’re looking at the bigger picture. Earth is just another world, one of untold billions. They don’t care about us. They only want my part of the Kah-Gash.”

“We could barter,” Kirilli says. “What if you promised to help them, but only if they reinforced Earth’s defenses? They used lodestones to deter demons in the past. Surely they could recharge or replace them and erect a ring of magic around the planet through which the Demonata couldn’t cross.”

Kernel looks uncertain. “I think Death has changed things. I don’t know if the old ways work anymore.”

“But we could ask,” Kirilli presses. “If they say no, we haven’t lost anything. There’s no harm putting in a request, is there?”

I seize on Kernel’s hesitation. “Why not try? Even if they turn you down, they won’t punish you for asking, will they?”

“Probably not,” Kernel says. “But…”

“What?” I snort. “Afraid of upsetting them? Will you condemn the rest of us just to make a good impression on your new friends?”

Kernel’s face stiffens. “That’s a cheap shot.”

“Maybe. But it’s not an unreasonable request. Take us to the Old Creature who came back with you. Let us discuss it with him. If he turns us down, at least we’ll have tried. You can go; the rest of us will stay. Where’s the harm in that?”

Kernel shrugs. “I’m sure he’ll reject you, but I guess we might as well try. Let me open a window to the demon universe, then I’ll—”

“Why do we have to go there?” I snap suspiciously.

“It will take several hours to open a window to Atlantis,” Kernel says. “My eyes might not last that long here. Plus it’s easier for me over there.”

“OK,” I growl, but edge to within striking distance in case he’s trying to con us.

Kernel takes us to a few different worlds, trying to find a spot where our enemies can’t track us. Eventually, on an asteroid in the depths of space, he sets to work on building a window to Atlantis, the world where the Old Creature is waiting. Far from being a mythical country that sank beneath the waves, Atlantis is the nearest inhabitable world to Earth. It was once populated by advanced beings. They mastered space travel and visited our planet, influencing mankind’s early progress. Then there was some kind of meltdown, like a nuclear war but worse. The Atlanteans perished.

I’m not looking forward to meeting the creature from the original universe, older than time itself. They’re obviously a superior species, and Kernel thinks they’re much wiser than us, that we’d be crazy not to follow their plans. But by their own admission they’ve messed up before. I don’t have the same faith in them that Kernel has.

Even if the ark they’ve built is the only hope for survival in the future, how can they turn away from the needs of the present? The Old Creatures told Kernel they believe every species has to follow its own path. They protect us in our formative years, hold back the Demonata so that we can develop. But then they withdraw, leaving us to fend for ourselves or perish at the claws of the demons.

What the hell kind of thinking is that! If I had their power, I’d never abandon a world. The Old Creatures won’t live forever. They say they can only hold back the demons for a few billion years. Like that’s nothing! A billion years is an eternity for most civilizations. If they spared us the agonies of the Demonata that long, by the time their power waned, Earth would be a shell of a planet anyway. They could save us all this suffering.

I know they have other worlds to think about. The universe is teeming with intelligent beings, and Earth’s just one small rock among billions. But if we were worth helping in the first place, they should have seen the job through. To me it’s the same as if a parent teaches its child to walk, then drops it into a pit of snakes and says, “You must prove yourself worthy of survival. Good luck!”

I’ve all sorts of bones to pick with the Old Creatures. But I’ll have to hide my feelings, smile big, and play it humble. Because these guys are our only hope. If we can convince them to help, maybe the Demonata can be driven back. I might even avoid the future that Juni prophesied and not destroy the universe. It will stick in my throat, but I have to play up to these cold, ancient life-givers. If I don’t, we’re on our own, and that will truly be the end.

Temper, Grubbs, temper!

It’s taking Kernel ages to open the window to Atlantis. He works hard, sweating with the effort, but apparently there’s no quick way because of the distance involved. When I asked him how far away it was, all he said was far. We can’t get closer to it in this universe either—space doesn’t work the same way here. Kernel has to construct a window that links back to Earth, then on to Atlantis. I’m glad I’m not the eyes of the Kah-Gash. Having to deal with technical issues like this would drive me mad. I’m much happier gutting demons.

The rest of us patch up our wounds while we’re waiting. Shark and I are the worst, battered all over. The brace around his stomach has cracked in several places. He glues it together with magic, but I get a glimpse of the flesh beneath. It’s ugly—purple flesh speckled with a moldy green fungus. There’s blood soaking into his trousers, and bits of his guts are poking out of ragged holes.

“How much longer do you think you can keep going?” I ask.

Shark shrugs. “I should have been dead weeks ago, as my doctors kept telling me. Having cheated death this long, who knows?”

“Has the infection been there long?”

“Who made you a nurse?” he scowls.

“Infection?” Timas barks. “You were supposed to tell me if you got infected.”

“It slipped my mind,” Shark says drily.

“Let me see,” Timas says, reaching for the brace.

“Leave it,” Shark grunts. “I used magic to heal myself. I’ll be fine.” He sighs. “You know what I miss? The ladies. No matter how bad things got, when Meera or Sharmila was with us, I always felt more at ease. Crazy, huh?”

“If they were here now, they’d march you to a hospital and have that infection looked at,” Timas huffs.

“Why don’t you go find a machine to tinker with?” Shark snaps.

“Over here?” Timas replies archly.

“I thought I was supposed to be the highly strung one,” Kirilli murmurs, and we all laugh.

“Seriously,” Timas says, smiling, “that infection will kill you if we don’t have it treated.”

“Seriously,” Shark responds, grinning tightly, “I know it will, but I don’t think it’s the sort of infection any doctor can treat. Just let me battle on and drop when it’s my time. I don’t have much longer whether I push on or go back. I’d rather die fighting than tucked up in a hospital bed.”

Timas considers that, then nods. “As you wish.”

Kirilli chuckles. “That’s the one plus point about not having any women around—we can discuss these things logically. No woman would let Shark get away with reasoning like that.”

“Our kind of women would,” Shark disagrees. “Sharmila and Meera knew the score. They wouldn’t have objected. Or wept. They were tough.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, thinking of Meera on her motorbike, red hair streaming behind her, laughing as she tore past speed signs.

Silence settles over us again as we brood about the friends we’ve lost, the wounds we’ve endured. It’s a relief when Kernel finally opens a window of white light and staggers away from it, exhausted.

“About time,” I grunt. “Let’s go.”

“Wait a minute,” Kernel stops me. “This is a window to a distant place in our universe, not a passageway between realms. It doesn’t work like a normal window. It’ll take several minutes to cross and there isn’t any oxygen. The Old Creature gave me a piece of a lodestone to use.”

Kernel digs out a sliver of rock and studies it. “I’ll use its power to erect a shield, but I’m not sure it will hold us all. If the shield starts to crumble while we’re crossing, I’ll have to cut the rest of you loose.”

I stare at Kernel suspiciously. “If this is some kind of trick…”

“No trick,” he insists. “I wasn’t supposed to bring others back with me. I don’t know if I can swing it.”

“Can’t we erect shields of our own?” Shark asks.

“It’s a different type of magic. You won’t be able to tap into it.”

We gaze uneasily at one another. Shark, Timas, and Kirilli wait for me to make a decision.

“Will there be any fighting?” I ask.

“On Atlantis?” Kernel shakes his head. “No. A few of the slug creatures might attack, but we can easily repel them.”

“Then I’ll come by myself. The others can stay here. We’ll pick them up on our way back—or I’ll pick them up if I return alone,” I say quickly, before Kernel launches into another of his I-won’t-be-coming-back spiels.

“You’re sure you’ll be safe without us?” Shark asks.

“Yeah.” I grab Kernel and settle my fangs close to his throat. “If Window Boy gives me any trouble, I’ll chew through his carotid artery before he can blink.”

“Charming,” Kernel sneers, then creates a tight, invisible barrier around us, and we shuffle into the window of light.

Crossing has always been instantaneous, like stepping from one room to another through a doorway. Not this time. I find myself floating through a weird zone of lights, all sorts of shapes and colors. I cling to Kernel like a child to his father, ogling the lights, feeling completely out of my depth. I try to ask a question, but no sound comes from my lips.

“We could speak normally,” Kernel’s voice says inside my head, “but it would mean more work on the shield. It’s easier this way.”

“Bloody telepathy,” I grumble silently, then nod at the lights. “Is this what you see all the time?”

“These are different from the normal lights,” he says. “But they’re similar.”

“How do you concentrate on normal stuff?”

Kernel laughs. “For me this is normal. The only time I was unable to see lights was when I entered the Board in Lord Loss’s palace.”

“How are we moving?” I ask. “What’s propelling us?”

“I’m not sure. I think the lights draw us on. As long as I bear Atlantis in mind, they steer us towards it.”

“What if you black out or go crazy?”

Kernel sniffs. “There’s no telling where we might end up.”

I’ve never felt so helpless. At least in the realm of demons, no matter how bad things got, I was always able to fight. Here I’m relying on Kernel for everything. I feel useless. On Earth I’m a magician, a leader of werewolves. Here I’m nothing. If Kernel cast me adrift, I couldn’t do anything about it.

I get tenser the farther we glide. I want to go back and take my chances without Kernel. I don’t mind dying on Earth or in the demon universe. But not here, in this unnatural zone of lights. It was a mistake asking him to bring me. I should have stayed where I belonged.

I fight my hysteria as long as I can, but eventually it threatens to overwhelm me. I’m about to demand that Kernel take me back, but before I can he says, “That patch of green light is the entrance to Atlantis.”

I fix on the green panel and smile eagerly as we draw closer. The other panels seem to slide away from around us until the whole universe looks like one giant patch of green. Then we slip through and land on a hard floor.

We’re in a chamber made of stones. The air is foul, acidic, painful to a nose as sensitive as mine. Squinting against the discomfort, I look around and spot a fat black man sitting close by. It’s the Old Creature in human form, disguised as Raz Warlo, a Disciple who fought with Dervish many years ago.

“Hello, Kernel,” Raz says stiffly, eyeing me beadily. “I did not expect you to bring another piece of the Kah-Gash.”

“This is Grubbs,” Kernel says. “He has something to ask you.”

“Yes,” Raz says. “I can read it in his thoughts. The answer is no.”

“Hold on a minute,” I growl. “You don’t know what—”

“You want my help,” Raz interrupts. “You want me to return to Earth, recharge the lodestones, and provide you with the means to repel the Demonata.”

“Well, OK, maybe you do know what I want,” I smile, trying to make a joke of it. “But you can’t refuse before I have a chance to—”

“I can see all of your arguments already,” Raz says. “None will persuade me to return with you. The threat of withholding Kernel won’t work either, since he is determined to travel to the ark with me. He has a greater calling he must respect. Your world is unimportant in the grand scheme of things.”

“It might not matter to you,” I snarl, “but it means everything to us.”

“No,” Kernel says sadly. “It doesn’t. I’d save it if I could, but if it’s a choice between dying meaninglessly or helping others survive… I’ve got to go, Grubbs.”

“Nobody has to go anywhere,” I hiss, trying to rein in my temper. “Come with us. Give us the power to defend ourselves. You made the lodestones work once—why not again? Time means nothing to you guys. Give us a million years. That won’t kill you, will it?”

“It would go against all that we believe in,” Raz says. “We protect developing worlds in their infancy, but your people have outgrown the need for us. You had the power to evolve and move ahead of the demons. You failed to nurture that talent. That is your problem, not ours. If we interceded in this case, we would have to intercede in all of the others.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” I explode. “You have the power to save lives, to save worlds. Why don’t you bloody use it?”

“We cannot save everyone,” Raz says patiently. “The universes do not work that way. Losses are unavoidable.”

“Listen to me, you ignorant son of a—”

I freeze. I’d been taking a step towards Raz, but suddenly I can’t move. My hand’s outstretched, one foot raised, mouth open. I must look idiotic, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“Grubbs?” Kernel squeaks, then turns on Raz. “What have you done to him?”

“Merely halted him,” Raz says. “He is not harmed. When we move on, he will be freed. Come, Kernel, it is time to return to the ark.”

“But he won’t be able to go home,” Kernel says.

“We will send him back with a piece of a lodestone to protect him,” Raz promises. “He will be safe, at least until he faces the demons and is destroyed along with the rest of his kind.”

“You’re sure?” Kernel asks.

“I give you my word.”

I want to tell Raz what I think of his word, but my lips are frozen along with the rest of me. I have as much control over myself as a concrete block has.

Raz gouges a bit of rock out of a lodestone, presses it into my right palm, and closes my fingers around it. Then he turns into a ball of light and starts to pulse. The stones of the chamber throb around us. Kernel casts me a shameful look and shrugs. Right now, I almost hate him more than Lord Loss or Bec. How can he turn his back on us? I might be a werewolf, but I still remember what it means to be human, and I fight for the things that mattered to me before I changed.

As I struggle to break free of the spell holding me captive, Kernel half turns and sniffs the air. His eyes narrow. He focuses on a spot a few yards away, then says, “Raz…”

“Please do not interrupt. This is very—”

“A window’s forming.”

The ball of light stops pulsing. “Are you certain?”

Kernel nods. “Over there.” He points. “It’s not one of yours?”

“No.” There’s a sighing sound. “How much time do we have?”

“Not—”

A window of grey light opens and Bec steps through.

“—much,” Kernel finishes glumly.

Bec looks taller than before, but that’s a trick of the shadows billowing around her. They encase her from head to toe, rise above her in clouds, and trail behind her like robes. Her eyes are pools of shadowy flickers. Vapors dance across her lips. The shadows move constantly, sometimes covering her completely, then parting to reveal a glimpse of her pale face. There’s something of Juni Swan about her, but she looks more of a menace than Juni ever did.

“I can’t let you leave, Kernel,” she says, and there’s the same flat tone to her voice that I noted before. She doesn’t sound evil, merely determined. There’s even a hint of sadness mixed in somewhere, as if she’s sorry she has to do this.

“How did you find us?” Kernel mutters, backing away from her.

“I’m the memory of the Kah-Gash,” she says. “I remember everything I see or absorb. When we were in contact, I shared your recent memories. I can’t see the lights but I can mimic your actions and go where you’ve gone, and also where the Old Creatures took you. I can go everywhere you’ve been. I can even find the ark.”

“No!” Raz gasps, sounding more human than he did before.

“Yes, my ancient friend.” Bec smiles thinly. “You hid it masterfully, but your hiding place has been exposed. I will lead the demons to the ark and set them loose on the creatures you have gathered. Without Kernel, they’re doomed.”

With a shriek, the ball of light shoots at Bec. She laughs and swats it aside as if it were a fly. As Raz smashes into the wall of the chamber, his spell over me shatters and I regain control. I launch myself at Bec and land on her back. I bare my fangs and snap at her neck, but the tendrils of shadow thicken around her and send a wave of electricity shooting through me. With a choking noise, I’m flung against the wall like Raz.

“You cannot fight me,” Bec says calmly. “I am two now. Death has joined with me. I am its vessel and mouthpiece. When you attack me, you attack Death—and that is a foe no one can defeat.”

Raz recovers and throws himself at Bec again. This time the ball of light engages with the shadows surrounding the small girl. The air fills with high-pitched crackling noises, so shrill that blood trickles from my ears and nose. There are blinding flashes and disorienting blackouts. Bec stands immobile at the center of the warring forces, fingers twitching but otherwise motionless as the spitting shadows swirl around the pulsating ball of light.

I try to wade in, but the air close to Bec is hotter than I can stand. I get to within a couple of yards of her, then the hairs on my arms catch fire and I have to retreat and roll in the dust to quench the flames.

Kernel’s staring at the battling pair, jaw slack, eyes wide. “We have to help!” I roar, staggering to my feet, wiping sweat and blood from my face.

“We can’t,” Kernel whispers. Blood is seeping from his ears and nose too.

“There must be something we can do,” I snarl, shaking him roughly.

“Like what?”

“Unite our magic. Hit Bec hard. Unleash the Kah-Gash.”

“Are you mad?” he scoffs. “Bec’s part of the Kah-Gash, but now she’s also part of Death. If we join, we’ll link up with the Shadow. Do you want to put the power of the Kah-Gash in Death’s hands?”

I stare at Kernel, then at the waves of shadows writhing around Bec. Maybe this is when I make the move that damns the world. Perhaps this is how it ends, with me handing Death the force it needs to reduce everything to ash. If it gains control of the Kah-Gash, it can use me as a puppet, pull my strings as it’s jerking Bec’s, send me to Earth to wreak havoc.

“We have to get out of here,” Kernel pants, dragging me towards the window of green light, which is still open.

“What about Raz?” I growl, breaking free.

“He’s lost,” Kernel says. “It’s over. Bec knows where the ark is. She can find it. The plans of the Old Creatures are ruined. Raz can’t help us now. Nobody can.”

“Then let’s die here,” I say softly, and Kernel pauses. I search his bright blue eyes for acceptance. “If this is the finish, let’s go out with a bang. You and me, alone against Death. What do you say?”

Kernel licks his lips. His features soften and I think he’s going to agree. I ready myself for the final battle, looking forward to the relief of oblivion that failure and death will bring. But then Kernel shakes his head.

“I don’t want to die so far from home. If we can’t make a difference, let’s at least perish on our own world, not on a dead planet.”

I sigh heavily, accepting the fact that relief isn’t to be mine just yet. Nodding, I edge to the window of green light with Kernel, but stop there and study the warring giants. I don’t want to quit until the fight’s been decided. If Raz can surprise his foe and chalk up an unlikely victory, there’s still hope.

But it soon becomes clear that victory isn’t to be ours. The snakes of shadows rip into the heart of the ball of light, tearing chunks out of it. The dislodged scraps drift through the air like bits of plastic, then crinkle away to nothing. There can be no doubt that Raz is going down for the three count.

“Go, Kernel,” the ball of light whispers. “You can do no good here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kernel moans.

“I regret it too,” Raz says. “We tried so hard to prevent this, but it seems our efforts were in vain. Please forgive us. If we could…”

Whatever he was about to say is lost in a terrible screeching sound, like two huge metal plates being scraped together. There’s a flash of light so intense that for a few seconds I think I’ve been blinded, and fire breaks out all over my body. As my sight returns and I thrash at the flames covering me, I see dozens of shards of light floating through the air. They’re all that remain of the Old Creature.

The shadows settle around Bec, and her head moves, eyes following one scrap of light to another, watching with grim satisfaction as they blink out. She blows on one that drifts close to her mouth, laughing softly as it catapults through the air.

Kernel grabs my arm and makes a wheezing noise. The flames didn’t take hold on him—one of the advantages of having no hair—but there are ugly scorch marks across his face, and a hole in one of his cheeks where the heat burned through his flesh. He tries to drag me away, but I pull against him and lock eyes with Bec.

“I’ll kill you before this is over,” I vow.

Bec shakes her head. “No.”

“I’ll rip your head from—” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“The fight with the Old Creature drained Death, but it’s recovering swiftly. If you don’t leave now, it will destroy you, seize all three pieces of the Kah-Gash, and claim victory early.”

“Like you care what it—”

“Get the hell out of here, fool!” she screams, and the fear in her eyes hits me harder than any threat. With a heavy heart, I wrap an arm around Kernel and dive through the window of green light, roaring with rage and frustration, knowing all is truly lost.