Darren Shan - Demon Thief

“I could try,” she insists. “And even if I don’t find the exact spot, I can return him to our world. He could make his own way home from there.”

Beranabus thinks a moment, then shrugs. “So be it. Waste your time if you wish. But keep out of my way, so you don’t interfere with—”

“I’m not going!” I shout. “I came to find Art and I’m not going home without him!”

“Kernel,” the black man—Raz—says, “you don’t know what is happening. This is not a place for children. You must go home. Mustn’t he, Sharmila?”

“Yes,” the Indian woman says, glaring at me like an angry teacher. “I gave you my word that I will return your brother to you if we find him alive. That will have to be enough.”

“Trust me,” the younger woman—Nadia—says with a sad smile, “you don’t want to stay here. You’ve followed us into a different universe—the home of the Demonata. It’s a hell-hole. This part isn’t so bad, but we’re going to encounter far worse very soon. You don’t want to be with us when that happens. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”

“I don’t care,” I say, close to tears. “Art’s my brother. Mum told me to look after him. I’m not going back alone.” Softly, voice cracking, I add, “I can’t.”

Sharmila’s eyes go soft with pity. “I am sorry, Kernel. We have spoken harshly. But you have to understand—it is impossible. You cannot stay. You could do no good here. You must go home. Your parents will be frantic, thinking they have lost you both. That is not fair, is it?”

“No, but…” I can’t find the words to explain.

“Enough talk,” Beranabus grunts, losing his patience. “The boy wants to stay… you lot want to send him home… this is easily decided.”

He flicks a hand at me. Suddenly, I’m flying through the air. I smack hard into a tree and cry out with shock and pain, mostly from my broken arm. As I fall to the ground, the branches of the tree move quickly. Catch me. Wrap themselves round me. Squeeze.

I catch sight of Sharmila darting to my rescue. Beranabus waves a hand, stopping her. The branches tighten. The tree howls louder than ever. I’m lifted up. The holes in its bark are expanding. It means to crush and swallow me. A few seconds more and I’ll be dead, killed and eaten by this monstrous sham of a tree.

Something flares within me. I scream at the tree, set my teeth on the nearest branch to my face and bite hard. The tree screeches. I chew through the branch, snapping it loose. Another. My left arm comes free. There’s heat in my palm. I grab a branch and feel power shoot through my hand, into the wood.

The tree howls with pain, then abruptly releases me. I drop, hit the water, go under, come up spluttering and thrashing. I dip under again. This time I stay there, feeling the water drag me down. I realise the water’s alive too, like the trees. Just as hungry and eager to kill.

I fight the panic. Force my legs to stop kicking wildly. Direct the power in my palm down towards my feet. I imagine myself as a rocket, blasting off, breaking free of the pull of the water. For a few seconds nothing happens. My lungs tighten. My mouth twitches.

Then, in a sudden burst, I explode upwards, out of the water, coughing, shivering, but free. I land on my feet and this time the surface of the water holds. There’s terrible pain in my broken arm as I land, but I quickly use the power to numb myself to it.

I face Beranabus, furious at him for launching me at the tree and nearly killing me. Ready to attack him, to use my power to smash him to pieces.

He’s laughing. The others are staring at me, stunned, but Beranabus is laughing. “I thought so!” he cackles. “I guessed there was more to this one than mere flesh and bone. Ordinary children don’t step out of their own world into the universe of the Demonata. You need to be one of us to be that crazy. We’ll hold on to him.”

“No!” Sharmila cries.

“But… master… he’s only a child,” Raz mumbles.

“This is a bad idea,” Nadia adds.

“I don’t care,” Beranabus says, waving away their protests. He grins at me, but it’s the smile of a cut-throat pirate. “You want to stay and help us find Cadaver? You want to search for your brother and rescue him like a knight of old? Very well, boy, you’ve got your wish.” He sticks out an arm, even though we’re too far from each other to shake hands. “You’re one of us now, Kernel Fleck. A demon hunter. Welcome to the Disciples!”

Beranabus is still working on his spells. Trying to find Cadaver and open a window which will lead us to the creature. According to Nadia there are thousands of demon worlds like this. Cadaver could be on almost any of them.

I’m squatting with the Disciples in a semi-circle. We can’t sit down because of the water. They look tired and upset. Sharmila argued with Beranabus for a long time, insisting he send me back. She said he was irresponsible and vile. He just swore and told her not to tell him his business. He said when she’d lived as long as he had, and seen all the things he’d seen, she could lecture him—but only then.

I study the Disciples while Beranabus works. Sharmila’s the eldest, fifty or more (though I’m not very good at guessing ages). She has a painted red spot in the middle of her forehead. I should know the name for it, but I can’t remember. Wrinkly skin. Dark, soft eyes. A long sari, many colours, ripped in several places and stained round the edges with blood and dirt.

Raz is fat and black. His skin’s incredibly dark. If it was night, no moon and he shut his eyes, he’d be invisible. Tight, curly hair. Not overly tall. Maybe in his thirties. He wears a very fine suit. I think he’s wealthy—he looks like someone who hasn’t worked with his hands a lot. No shoes—none of the Disciples wears shoes or socks.

Nadia is in her late teens or early twenties. She has short blonde hair, blue eyes and very bad skin. Lots of spots and acne scars. A hard, plain face. She wouldn’t be especially pretty even if she had the clearest skin in the world. Plump, but with bony legs and arms. She wears jeans and a dark green jumper. Looks unhappy, as though she’s suffered a lot.

Nadia catches me watching her and smiles. Her whole face changes. She looks a lot prettier. “Strange days, huh, Kernel Fleck?”

“I still don’t understand it all,” I mutter. “Actually, I don’t really understand any of it.”

Nadia laughs. “At least you’re honest.” She chews a fingernail, considering what to say. Eventually, she gestures at the elderly man on his feet. “That’s Beranabus. He’s a magician. There aren’t many of them in the world. Lots of people can do some magic if the situation is right, but only a few are born with full magical powers.”

“He is our master,” Raz says, gazing at Beranabus adoringly. “He unites us, gives us direction, shows us the way.”

“He is an egotistical, reckless fool!” Sharmila disagrees, snorting harshly. “He cares nothing for any person’s life. He claims to be on a greater mission to save the world, but I have my doubts. I do not trust him and I advise you to be cautious also, Kernel.”

“But isn’t he your leader?” I ask, confused.

“Yes. But we follow him reluctantly, not out of choice.” She looks at Raz and smiles. “Well, some of us do.”

Raz and Sharmila start arguing about Beranabus’ faults and strong points. Nadia listens for a while, then shuffles away from them and nods for me to follow.

“They’re new to this,” she says quietly when we’re out of earshot. “Beranabus has always been a legendary figure to them. They haven’t spent time around him, so they’re not sure how to respond to his… peculiarities. Raz over-idolises him. Sharmila criticises. But he doesn’t care what people say or think, as long as they obey his orders.”