Darren Shan - Demon Apocalypse

“What are you talking about?” I mutter.

“Watch,” Beranabus says and murmurs the words of a quick spell, waving a hand at Juni. Lord Loss makes no move to defend her. He’s loving this. As I stare at Juni, her flesh ripples. She stops chanting and cries out, but with surprise not pain. Her hands dart to her face and she turns sharply, flashing a furious glare at Beranabus. Dervish gives a muffled cry of shock and jerks away from her.

Her face has changed completely. Much plainer. Bad acne scars. Dirty, short blonde hair. Blue eyes. A sullen expression. Quite fat. Pale skin, but not as white as her albino flesh. She appears younger than before, maybe mid- to late-twenties.

“What’s happening?” Kernel asks.

Before I can tell him, Juni shrieks in a voice entirely unlike her own, “Give me back my face, you swine!”

Kernel’s forehead creases. “Nadia?” he gasps.

“You have a good ear,” Lord Loss purrs. “Shame about the eyes.”

“Nadia Moore,” Beranabus snorts. “Another distant relative of yours, Grubbs, and once one of my closest assistants. I thought she died in Lord Loss’s kingdom many years ago, but it seems she merely switched allegiances and created a new look for herself.”

“Cornelius knew,” Lord Loss says with relish. “Not about her rebirth as Juni Swan, but about her survival, the trick she pulled to escape your tyrannical rule. He kept it a secret from you, Beranabus. Perhaps he has other secrets. Are you certain you can trust him?”

Beranabus sniffs away the jibe. “I prefer you this way, Nadia,” he says. “Reality’s more attractive than facade. You should have kept your original face.”

“I’m not Nadia Moore,” Juni snarls. “She died, just the way you saw it. I put everything about her behind me—her name, features, loyalties. I’m Juni Swan now and always will be, even if you’ve disabled my glamour.”

“I felt guilty when you were killed,” Beranabus says softly. “About as guilty as I’ve ever felt in my long, wretched life. But I won’t feel anything when you die a second time, when I kill you myself.” His expression hardens and he addresses Lord Loss. “My offer stands. Walk away now and we won’t interfere—I’ll even let Nadia leave too. If you stay, you die.”

“A generous offer,” Lord Loss says. “If you had the backing of your Disciples, perhaps I’d be inclined to accept and slaughter you another time—I prefer to fight when the odds are in my favour. But you come only with a blind boy and a cur who has already proven his cowardice. And though you yourself are a fearsome opponent, you’re only one man. And no man, no matter how powerful, has ever got the better of a demon master. So, in answer to your offer…”

Lord Loss smirks vilely, then screeches unintelligibly at his familiars. With ear-piercing howls of delight, the demons attack.

Artery and Lord Loss hurl themselves at Beranabus. The scorpion-shaped Spine targets Kernel, eager to finish the job which it doesn’t remember starting. Femur sets its sights on me.

It’s almost comical watching the rabbit bound towards me. It’s like a sick cartoon, Bugs Bunny gone batty, leaping on people to plant a great smacker of a kiss on them. Except this creature’s acidic smooch will melt a person’s face and leave them a smouldering, sizzling mess—not the sort of fare you’d usually find in a Looney Tunes flick.

Femur spits acid in mid-air. It spurts towards me, a sheet of liquid death. Directed by the magic inside me, I wave my left hand at the deadly juice. It divides and hisses past my head, hitting a couple of stalagmites behind me, quickly eating into them and eroding the work of thousands of years.

The rabbit’s leap brings it within reach. I grab its neck and twist sharply. The neck breaks and I toss the creature away. It gurgles, then heals itself and gets up. I smile, grown bold by the combination of magic and ease with which I shrugged off the demon’s attack. I beckon to it. “Try again, lettuce-muncher!”

As Femur tenses its rear legs and works its lips over its gums, Kernel stumbles past me. Spine is on his head, jabbing its stinger at his eye sockets. He’s batting it away. “Let me know if you need help!” I shout. Then Femur leaps and spits acid again, and I have to focus on that.

As I fend off the rabbit I spot Beranabus. Lord Loss has the magician within his grasp, all eight arms wrapped around him, a spider devouring a fly. Artery is on Beranabus’s back, chewing at his shoulders. One of his hands is under the magician’s skin. I see knuckles moving within the flesh.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but Beranabus’s skin appears to be a different colour. There’s a purple tinge to it and his eyes seem to have grown and turned a dark grey shade. And the blood streaming from the hole in his shoulder that Artery’s chewing at… is it yellow?

As I’m studying Beranabus uncertainly, Femur bounces up once more, spraying its corrosive poison. Snapping back to attention, I freeze the acid, then punch through the solid panel of ice and grab the rabbit’s ears. “Enough of this crap,” I grunt and drive my left fist down the demon’s throat.

Femur’s eyes bulge alarmingly. It chokes and tries to gnaw through my arm. Cuts the flesh up pretty bad. Pain flares, but I numb myself to it and focus on my hand deep in the rabbit’s guts. I fill the fist with magic, then let it explode, incinerating the demon from the inside out. Femur gasps, mouth slackening, blinking furiously. Its legs shake. Acid dribbles over my forearm, but I turn it to mist before it harms me.

The rabbit’s ears rip loose and I throw them away. They flop around on the floor of the cave for a few seconds, then fall still as life leaves Femur’s body. Its flesh turns a dark red colour, then crumbles away like ash. I pull my arm free and study the mess, lips curled with disgust. I start towards the waterfall to wash clean and sluice out my wounds. Then I have a better idea and direct magic at my arm. Seconds later—spotless, unmarked flesh. Coolio!

My first thought is to go to Beranabus’s aid or help Kernel with Spine. But then the magician’s warning kicks in. Juni Swan is public enemy number one. She has to be stopped. I’m not sure I can do it—the doubts swim back inside my head—but I have to try.

Skirting Beranabus and Lord Loss, I hurry to where the transformed Juni is chanting into the crack, arms spread wide, words coming fast and furious. For a second I think I glimpse a face in the rock, just within the opening of the crack. But then it’s gone and I’m not sure whether it was Bec, the first of the demon hordes or a trick of the light.

I don’t want to touch Juni—the thought of physical contact with her repulses me. So I bring my hands together and summon a bolt of magic to fire instead. Nothing happens. I can feel the magic, but it’s like there’s a barrier between us, blocking the lines of communication. Then I realise what the problem is—the werewolf. There’s a full moon. Beranabus told me I’d have no trouble suppressing the wolf now, but it would always be there, scratching away beneath the surface, whining, trying to break free.

“No time for games, wolfie,” I mutter, and mentally drive the beast deep down within me, to howl in silent, imprisoned protest for at least another month. The magic burns brightly inside me as soon as the way’s been cleared. Once again I tell it what I want and this time I feel energy gather in my hands. Pointing them at Juni, I unleash the power. A huge ball of magic shoots straight at her— then hits an invisible barrier and crackles away into nothing.

Juni glances around, sneers at me, carries on chanting.

“’Ubbs!” Dervish grunts as I prepare a second blast. He’s straining to get to his feet. Beside him, Bill-E’s staring at me as if he doesn’t know who I am. “’Ubbs!” Dervish shouts again, mouth constricted by his gag.