Absolute Midnight. Clive Barker
could sense Boa’s frustration as she received these pitifully inadequate contributions to the body she was trying to grow again.
She opened her lips, and though her throat and tongue were unfinished, she managed to speak. It was light, more than a quiet whisper, but Candy heard it plainly.
“You look . . . nourishing . . .” she said.
“I’d make bad eating right now. You should find something healthier.”
“Hunger is hunger. And time is of the essence. . . .”
This time Candy forced her throat to form the question, though it was barely audible.
“Why is that exactly?” she said.
“Midnight,” Boa said simply. “It’s almost upon us. You don’t feel it, do you?”
“Midnight?”
“Midnight! I can feel it. The last darkness is coming, and it will blot out every light in the heavens.”
“No . . .”
“Saying no will change nothing. The Abarat is going to die in the dark. Every sun will be eclipsed, every moon blinded, every star in every constellation extinguished like a candle flame. But don’t worry. You won’t be here to suffer the consequences. You’ll be gone.”
“Where?”
“Who knows? Who’ll care? Nobody. You will have served your purpose. You had sixteen years of life, going places you would never have gone if you hadn’t had me hidden inside you. You have nothing to complain about. Now your life ends. And mine begins. There’s something quite pleasing about the balance, isn’t there?”
“I’m not done living . . .” Candy murmured.
“Well, I’m sorry,” Boa said, mocking Candy’s gravity.
“You don’t . . . understand,” Candy said.
“Trust me. There’s nothing you know that I don’t.”
“You’re wrong,” Candy said. Her voice was gaining strength as she drew upon the clarity Laguna Munn’s gift had given her. “I know how you played Carrion along all those years, making him think you loved him, when all you really wanted from him was the Abarataraba.”
“Listen to yourself,” Boa said. “To hear you, people might think you actually knew what you were talking about.”
Candy sighed.
“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t know much about the Abarataraba. It’s a book of magic—”
“Stop! Stop! You’re embarrassing yourself. Don’t waste your last minutes worrying about something you’ll never understand. Death has come for you, Candy. And when it leaves it’s going to be taking you along with it. You, and every thought you ever had. Every hope, every dream. All gone. It’ll be like you never lived.”
“The dead don’t disappear. There are ghosts. I’ve met one. And I’ll be one, if necessary. I have energy and power.”
“You have nothing,” Boa said with a sudden burst of rage.
She reached out and seized hold of Candy. The effect, in both directions, was immediate. Now, as she drew power out of Candy directly the smoky air began to solidify into gray bone behind the latticework of veins and nerves that had first defined her features.
“Better,” Boa said, smiling through gritted teeth. “Much better.”
Every part of her body was speeding toward completion now. The fluids in Boa’s eye sockets bubbled like boiling water. Even in her diminished state Candy could still see the bizarrity in the sight before her.
“Oh, I like this,” Boa said, luxuriating in the bliss of her reconstruction.
This time there was enough of her flesh and bone in place that Candy could see a hint of the beautiful woman whose image Finnegan Hob had kept above his bed. But every sliver of Boa’s recovered beauty was being purchased at the expense of Candy’s life. Each time Boa’s greedy fingers touched Candy they left her more impoverished, more exhausted. And this was not the kind of exhaustion that she could sleep off in a few quiet hours. This was the other kind: the sleep from which there was no waking.
Death has come for you. Boa had uttered the words just a few minutes ago.
She hadn’t lied.
WEAK THOUGH CANDY WAS—THE convulsions wracking her body with increasing frequency, her legs so exhausted she doubted they’d support her for more than two or three strides—she had no choice. She had to get out of the chamber quickly, or Boa’s appetite for her life force would be the death of her. In one small detail, luck was on her side.
Candy remembered hearing Laguna Munn’s voice. It felt ages ago, but the incantatrix made mention of the lock. Suddenly Candy realized that despite his mother’s instruction, Covenantis had failed to lock the chamber door. It had opened, just a crack. But it was sufficiently wider than the narrow shadow it cast. Without it, Candy would have had little or no chance of locating her escape route. But here it was!
She only allowed her gaze to linger on the shadow of the door for the briefest moment. She was afraid of giving anything away to Boa. Then, directing her gaze to the opposite wall—as if it was there that she’d guessed the door to be—she slowly started to haul herself to her feet.
Boa’s relentless appetite had robbed Candy’s body of strength and flexibility. It felt like a dead weight, which took every bit of willpower to get moving and keep moving. Every part of her seemed close to failure. Her lungs were like two stones inside her, while her heart fluttered like a torn paper bird. Her body would have to be stirred from its torpor if Candy was to have any hope of escaping this chamber. She would have to force her enfeebled arms to make her torso collaborate in its own survival.
“Come on,” she told herself through gritted teeth, “. . . move.”
Reluctantly, her body responded. But it hurt. Her heart-bird got panicky. The rest of her innards started to close down. She could taste something disgusting in her throat, as though her entrails were backed up like choked sewer pipes. She tried not to think about it, which was in fact quite easy because her mind was failing along with everything else.
She didn’t need much brainpower to recognize her mortal enemy, however. Boa was with her in the chamber, and she was a distressing sight. Without bones, Boa’s anatomy was a ragged mass of possibilities that had not yet congealed. Her fingers dangled like empty gloves, her face a long mask of lost intention, and her mouth, a hole without a tongue or teeth.
Boa’s appearance was so appalling that Candy forgot her exhaustion and scrambled to get out of her way. With a sudden rush of energy, Candy pushed herself up off the chamber floor, catching Boa off guard, and knocking her to the floor.
“Be still, witch!” Boa yelled. “Let’s have this over with, once and for all!”
Candy lurched toward the door, avoiding the coils which, had they encircled her and tightened their grip once more, would have ground her ribs to powder and her guts to meat and excrement.
She reached out to the shadow, which marked her destination, and slid her fingers around the door. It was no illusion. It was solid and real in her grip. She pulled, half expecting the door to protest its opening, but no. Despite its massive size, it was served by some kind of counterweight, which allowed it to swing open with only the most modest of effort on Candy’s part.
Her surprise made her careless. As she pulled the door open, Boa’s forefinger wrapped itself around her throat, tightening with the efficiency of a noose.
Candy instantly let go of the door, and forced her fingers down between neck and noose. But it wasn’t enough to keep Boa from putting so much pressure on Candy’s windpipe that