The Demonata 6-10. Darren Shan
wouldn’t describe myself that way,” Beranabus sniffs. “I don’t have much to do with them. I use the Disciples where appropriate, but I fight most of my battles in the Demonata’s universe, alone.”
“Not quite alone,” Kernel huffs.
Beranabus grunts offhandedly at Kernel, then addresses me again. “I didn’t form the Disciples. They came to me looking for leadership and training. I occasionally demand their help, but I’ve no vested interest in the group.”
“But Dervish is one of your people,” I argue. “He told me you sent him to Carcery Vale to protect the cave. You’re responsible for him.”
“No!” Beranabus barks. He brushes his long hair back from his face, glowering at me. “I sent Dervish to Carcery Vale, as I sent others before him, to watch for demons and their human servants, to report to me if any came sniffing in search of the cave. Everything else in his life was secondary to that task. He should have respected my instructions, kept a low profile, not got entangled with a demon master like Lord Loss. He brought this trouble on himself. I don’t have time to get involved in personal conflicts. Lord Loss has nothing to do with the cave, so I don’t care what he does to Dervish.”
“You’re a monster,” I sneer. “You’re no better than the Demonata.”
“Perhaps not,” Beranabus concedes. “But the Disciples understand that there are forces at work in the universe far more important than anything in their own lives. They accept the need to put human concerns behind them and focus on the nobler cause to which they’ve been called.”
“I don’t do noble causes,” I retort. “I care about Dervish and Bill-E. That’s all. They’re more important to me than anything else, even the safety of the bloody world.”
“He’s arrogant and stupid,” Kernel says, staring at me coldly. “He can’t see the bigger picture. You made a mistake bringing him here. Send him back. Let him perish at the hands of Lord Loss.”
“That isn’t your decision to make,” Beranabus says, eyes flashing. “Don’t forget your place. You’re here to serve.”
“Well, it’s true,” Kernel pouts.
Beranabus takes a steadying breath, then faces me again. “What I’m trying to explain,” he says, only barely restraining his anger, “is that Dervish wouldn’t want us to rush back. He understands the importance of my work and knows I don’t get involved in minor skirmishes — which is all this is. He doesn’t expect me to ride to his rescue. This quarrel with Lord Loss and Juni Swan is of his own making and he must deal with them himself.
“Having said that,” Beranabus continues, raising his voice to stop me interrupting, “I will get word to him, as I promised. I can’t get in touch with him now – there are no easy means of making contact with the outside world from here – but as soon as I can, I’ll warn him of Juni’s treachery and the threat he faces. That’s the best I can offer. And it’s all Dervish would expect.”
“Fine,” I grunt, getting to my feet. “But I’m not one of your Disciples, so I don’t have to obey your rules. I’ll go and warn him right now if you’ll just point me in the right direction…” I look at him challengingly, expecting an argument.
Beranabus smiles flatly. “Once you leave the cave, the fastest route is east. It’s a long, hard walk. The sun is merciless, waterholes are few and far between, and there’s little food to be found. An experienced trekker or a magician might make it out alive. But you’re not a worldly traveller and you don’t know how to make the most of your magical potential. You’ll be dead within a week. But if you want to make the attempt regardless, go ahead. I won’t detain you.”
“Right,” I nod sharply. “I will.”
I start towards the rope ladder, but Kernel stops me. “Grubitsch… Grubbs. He’s telling the truth. You can’t make it. You’ll die if you try.”
“I’d rather die trying than live and let Dervish and Bill-E be butchered.”
“It would be pointless,” Kernel argues. “Even if you got out alive, it would take weeks to reach civilisation. Dervish will find out quicker through us. Disciples visit here regularly. One might come tomorrow or the next day. You won’t achieve anything by sacrificing yourself. Do you want us to tell your uncle you wasted your life on a pointless mission? How do you think that would make him feel?”
I stare at Kernel coldly, then turn slowly to Beranabus. “You swear you’ll let him know as soon as you can?”
The magician nods. “As Kernel said, we receive several visitors a year. When the next Disciple comes, I’ll give him or her a message to pass on to Dervish.”
“What if it’s months before anyone visits?”
Beranabus doesn’t reply.
I think it over. Weigh up the pros and cons. Try to decide what Dervish would tell me to do. I finally figure it makes no sense to leave.
“OK,” I sigh, taking my place by the fire. “I don’t like it, and I’ll hold you to account if anything happens to Dervish or Bill-E. But I’m going to trust you. I don’t know for sure that I should, but to hell with it. Now I assume you brought me here for a purpose. What is it?”
Beranabus laughs. “Damn it all, I like you! You’re blunt and to the point. I’m sure you’ll cause me all sorts of aggravation, but I’m looking forward to having you around.”
“Never mind the compliments,” I growl. “Just tell me why I’m here.”
“Very well. As I explained, I don’t have much to do with the Disciples. They deal with largely unimportant matters. They stop some demons from crossing and limit the damage caused by those who get through. That doesn’t mean much in the universal scheme of things. Hundreds of casualties… a few thousand… even a few million… what of them?”
I gawp at the elderly tramp, then at Kernel. “Is he for real?”
“You’d better believe it,” Kernel says in a low voice, looking at Beranabus darkly.
“I can’t waste time worrying about a few dead humans,” Beranabus defends himself. “I have more important work to tend to.”
“What’s more important than saving lives?” I challenge him.
“Saving the world,” he answers without the least hint of irony. “Most of the demons who hit our universe are weak. It’s relatively easy for a sly demon – with human assistance – to create a window between their universe and ours, but the masters can’t squeeze through. Occasionally a tunnel can be opened – like at the cave in Carcery Vale – which more powerful demons can access. But most of the time only the lesser Demonata can cross and they can’t stay more than a few minutes. A nuisance, aye, but they don’t threaten the existence of the human race.
“I focus on combating the threat of the stronger monsters, those who could wipe out mankind. They’re always looking for ways to cross. The Disciples act when they uncover evidence on this world of a potential crossing, but I can’t allow that to happen with the masters. I have to prevent such threats in their infancy.
“To do that, Kernel and I work in the universe of the Demonata. Unlike the Disciples, we spend little time on this world. We walk among demons, spying on them, uncovering their plans in the formative stages, wrecking them. We divide demons who are working together. Locate and destroy places where tunnels could be built. It’s difficult. We have to fight constantly and the battles are savage.”
“Savage,” Kernel echoes, his voice a whisper.
“It’s a horrible undertaking,” Beranabus says. “One might even call it a curse. But it has to be done. The Demonata are a constant threat. Those of us with the power to limit them to their own realm don’t have the freedom of choice. Kernel and I know that if we don’t fight the monsters on their worlds, the demon masters