The Demonata 6-10. Darren Shan
I cut in. “We were alone, just the three of us. He slipped, fell, died. An accident. No demons or evil mages were involved.”
“Good,” Beranabus grunts. “When I heard the entrance had been excavated and someone had died in the cave, I feared the worst — especially since my spells of warning hadn’t worked. I should have been alerted the moment the first rock was lifted out. I assumed a powerful mage had spun a counterspell and was preparing the way for a demon invasion. I’ve never moved so quickly in my life.”
“He ran like his feet were on fire,” Kernel says, smiling for the first time — but it’s a brief, thin smile.
“Dervish told me about the cave,” I say softly. “How it was used as a crossing point for demons. He said the tunnel between universes could be reopened, that the Demonata could come through in their thousands and take over our world. You don’t think Juni and Lord Loss…?”
“No.” Beranabus smiles wryly, showing his crooked, discoloured teeth. “Lord Loss has no interest in opening tunnels between universes. Most demons want to destroy humanity, but Lord Loss thrives on human misery. He’s as keen to keep that tunnel closed as we are.”
Beranabus picks at his teeth with a thin chicken bone. His breath stinks. In fact most of him stinks. He obviously isn’t concerned about personal hygiene. Finally, laying the bone aside, he speaks again. “The cave brought me to Carcery Vale, but you’re why I stayed. I could feel the power in you, bursting to be released. I wanted to be there when it exploded — or when you imploded.”
“Imploded?”
“You could have burnt up. If the magic hadn’t found an outlet, it would have destroyed you from within. There was no way of telling until the full moon, when I knew you’d be pushed to the point where you and the beast had to settle the matter once and for all.
“The werewolf is the key,” he continues. “The curse of the Gradys. Many centuries ago, your ancestors bred with demons.”
“Bred?” I yelp. “No way!”
“It doesn’t happen often,” Beranabus says. “Most demons are physically incompatible with humans. But it’s not unheard of. When such unions occur, the offspring are never natural. Humans and demons weren’t meant to mix. When they do, their children are freaks of the highest order, neither human nor demon, caught painfully between. Most die at birth. But some survive.”
His face is dark, shadows flickering across it from the flames of the fire. “A few grow and thrive, either in the demon’s universe or ours. Your ancestor’s child was one of those. The magical strand of the Demonata stayed hidden, at least long enough for the child to mature and bear children of its own. When its demonic legacy finally surfaced, the victim turned into a wolf-like creature.”
“So the Demonata are to blame,” I growl, hating them afresh. “I gathered as much from Dervish, but I was never sure.”
“I don’t know about blame,” Beranabus says. “Such couplings are often set in motion by humans. Your ancestor quite possibly made the first approach, and…” He twirls his fingers suggestively.
“Here comes the bride,” mutters Kernel.
Beranabus looks into the flames, considering his next words. “You’re a unique specimen, even for a Grady. I’ve never seen or heard of anyone like you. Magic is unpredictable, chaotic. It works differently in each person. But there are general rules which have always applied — until now. You shattered all of them.”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s the reason I didn’t approach you immediately. I wasn’t sure how you’d change, what the magic would do when it surfaced. Of course there was Juni to consider too. I didn’t know how close you and Dervish were to her, if you knew who she served.”
“Of course we didn’t!” I bellow. “Lord Loss killed my parents and sister. Do you think–”
“Peace,” Beranabus says. “I trust you now, but I couldn’t before. For all I knew, you and Dervish were in league with Juni Swan and I was being lured into a trap. Dervish himself might have opened the entrance to the cave to entice me to Carcery Vale.”
“Have you been paranoid for long?” I ask cynically.
“I learnt a long time ago not to trust anybody,” he replies tightly. “Not until they’ve proved themselves worthy. And even then I keep a close watch on them.”
“I’ve been with Beranabus for thirty years or more,” Kernel says, “and I still wake up sometimes to find him giving me the evil eye.”
“Thirty years?” I study the boy again. “You can’t be that old.”
“We’ll come to that soon,” Beranabus says before Kernel can respond. “Let’s finish with your magic first. Where was I?”
“You were waxing lyrical about how unique he was,” Kernel reminds him.
“Aye.” Beranabus’s face lights up. “In every other magician, the gift of magic is evident from birth. Even if they’re unaware of their potential, other magicians can sense it. Dervish should have seen the magic within you, but he didn’t. Because you hid it from him. From yourself too.”
“No. I knew it was there.”
“You knew after Slawter,” Beranabus corrects me, “but it didn’t start then. This power has been with you since you were born. Some secret part of you knew what you were from the day you came into this world — but it was afraid. It didn’t want the power and responsibility. So it pushed the magic down deep where it couldn’t work or even be noticed.
“No other magician can do that. They can deny their calling and refuse to hone their talent, but they can’t bury it completely. But you were so powerful that even as a child you were instinctively able to hide your magic from the world. If not for the Grady curse, it would have lain hidden for the rest of your life, a great power wasted.”
“I wish it had,” I mutter angrily.
“You shouldn’t,” scolds Beranabus. “If not for the magic, you’d be a wild, raging animal now. The barriers you erected between yourself and your magical potential began to crumble when you first faced demons. You had to draw on your inner power when you fought Lord Loss and his familiars. You drove your magic back down afterwards, but cracks had appeared in your armour.
“The magic has been buzzing around inside you ever since, trying to break free. You kept a lid on it for a long time, but then the curse kicked in. The werewolf came to the fore. That should have been the end of Grubitsch Grady. But the magician within you opposed the beast. You said you used magic to fight the change, but you’re wrong — magic used you. It stopped you becoming a monster.”
“No it didn’t,” I say guiltily. “I turned for a while. I killed Ma and Pa Spleen. Next time, when the moon’s full and the werewolf takes over, I’ll kill again.”
“Do you really believe that?” Beranabus asks.
“Of course.” I stare at him, confused.
He shakes his head. “The moon has exerted as powerful an influence over you as it ever will. The beast dominated for a short time, but you drove it back. It will rise again, but you’ll beat it then too. It will be easier next time. The beast will always be within you, snarling and spitting, battling to break free when the moon sings to it. But you’re in control. You won.”
“I didn’t win!” I snap. “I killed Bill-E’s grandparents. That’s not winning. Even if I never again lose control, I’ve already killed. How can you say everything’s OK? Maybe you don’t count the murder of your half-brother’s grandparents as a big deal, but I do. So don’t–”
“Show him how to remember,” Kernel interrupts. “I’m not going to listen to him rant and rage for hours. Teach him the spell — let him see