Darren Shan - Demon Apocalypse

Dervish and I haven’t said anything to each other. He’s staring off into space, his face a mess of dried tears. Every so often he shakes his head or makes a soft grunting noise. That’s as close as we’ve come to communication.

I don’t know what to feel. I’ve saved the world from the Demonata, but at what cost? To kill your own brother… Nobody should ever have to suffer such a cruel fate. I’m already wishing I could go back and change it. Maybe Bill-E would be better off alive and suffering than dead and gone. Did I have the right to make that choice for him? I don’t know.

And maybe I can go back. I haven’t discussed it with Beranabus yet, but I will, as soon as he’s through talking with Bec. Find a way to travel back in time like we did before. Stop any of it from happening. Snatch Bill-E from Juni’s clutches. Never open the entrance to the cave. I don’t see why we can’t. We did it once. I don’t care what Beranabus said about waves and trains reaching the end of the line—there must be a way to do it again.

Eventually, as the sun rises on a normal day, lighting up a world unaware of how close it came to toppling into an abyss of demonic damnation, Beranabus and Bec return. There’s almost nothing of Bill-E left. The girl has taken over completely, remoulding his body in her own image. Even his hair has turned a dark red colour. One or two small traces of my brother remain—she walks like he did, and her left eyelid hangs a fraction lower than her right—but I’m sure those traits will vanish too.

“Sorry we were such an age,” Beranabus says, sitting opposite Dervish. “Loads to talk about. We’ve cut it short as it is, only covered the more important issues.”

Bec stares at the couch, then sits on the floor close to the magician’s legs. She looks at me with worried eyes. “I hope you do not mind that I took this body.”

I blink. “You can speak our language now?”

“A spell,” she replies. “Beranabus taught me. I’m speaking in my own tongue, but it allows me to be understood by others.” She sighs. “If I could have worked such a spell when we first made contact, things would have been much simpler.”

“I’d normally say there was no point worrying about the past…” I begin, but Dervish cuts me off.

“Who are you?” he shouts. “What the hell have you done with Billy?”

“Billy’s dead,” Beranabus says. “This is Bec, an old friend of mine.”

“No!” Dervish yells, lurching to his feet. “That’s Billy’s body. She stole it. I saw her. I want it back.” His hands bunch into fists.

“I apologise, but I cannot give it back,” Bec says quietly.

“Even if she could, what would be the point?” Beranabus chips in, roughly but typically. “The boy’s dead. Bec took his lifeless flesh and filled it with her spirit. If she vacated it again, you’d only have a dead child on your hands.”

“I want him back,” Dervish snarls, eyes wild.

“I understand,” Bec says solemnly. “You wish to bury him.”

“No!” Dervish howls. “I want to hold him and tell him how much I love him. I want to…” He breaks down and slumps sideways, sobbing into the cushions. I long to go to my uncle, hold him, help him. But there are too many questions which must be answered. As cruel as it sounds, Dervish will have to wait.

“How did you do it?” I ask quietly.

“Which part?” Bec replies.

“The last bit—taking over Bill-E’s body.”

She shrugs. “I could see everything that was happening. I came back inside you—when we worked together to bend time, I joined with your flesh and mind. I could have stayed there within you, hidden away, and I meant to. But when I saw what Lord Loss was going to do, and realised you wouldn’t defend yourself, I had to act. I wasn’t sure if I could use the dead boy’s flesh. Even if I could, I only planned to inhabit it temporarily—I thought I could possess it, drive Lord Loss away, then leave it again.

“But, to my shock, the body accepted me. More than that—I was able to transform it and recreate my own form. I needn’t have—I could have kept your brother’s shape—but I wouldn’t have been comfortable that way and I don’t think you would have been either.”

“So this is your body now?” I ask. “You’re alive after all that time in the cave? Free to grow and live like any other person?”

The girl shrugs again and glances at Beranabus.

“We don’t know,” the magician says softly, touching Bec’s short red hair. “This body might age and develop naturally—or it might not. We’ll have to wait and see. Only time will tell.”

“Speaking of time…” I lean forward anxiously. This was what I wanted to ask about first, but it wouldn’t have been polite to barge straight in with it. “How did you bring us back from the future?”

Bec shakes her head softly. “I didn’t. We did it—Kernel, you and I.”

“But you started it. You knew the spells. You were in control.”

Again she shakes her head. “It was the Kah-Gash. Although we are parts of the weapon, it has a mind of its own. When we joined, our magic became the magic of the Kah-Gash. It told us how to unite minds and forces. It used us. Like you, I didn’t know what it was attempting to do. The time travel came as much of a surprise to me as it did to you.”

Bec looks around, staring at the chairs, the windows, the TV. This is all new to her. Unimaginable. She comes from a time when the world was much simpler. She’s itching to explore, ask questions, make sense of all the weird shapes and objects. But I can’t let this pass.

“Do you remember the spells?” I press. “Could we do it again?”

She thinks a moment and frowns. “It’s strange. Normally I only have to hear something once—I have a perfect memory and never forget anything. But in this instance I have only the vaguest recollection of the spells. I couldn’t repeat them.”

“You could try,” I insist.

She nods. “If you prompt me, I will do my best. But I cannot start without your help. You would have to show me the way, like you did before.”

“Grubbs,” Beranabus says, “you can’t go back again.”

“Why not?” I shout. Dervish looks up, startled by the ferocity of my tone. “Why the hell can’t I?”

“The Kah-Gash reversed time because the world faced annihilation and there was no other way,” Beranabus says calmly. “But it was a massive, perilous undertaking. If it had gone awry, the result would have been chaos, timelessness, maybe the destruction of both universes. You can’t take such a risk again, just for the sake of one boy.”

“That one boy means more to me than all the others in the world put together,” I snarl.

“Maybe,” Beranabus replies, “but he means nothing to the Kah-Gash. If he did, you wouldn’t be sitting here arguing—you’d be spitting out spells, trying to find the energy to take you back. You set events in motion last time. You were the first to act. If you want to do it again, go ahead.”

“I don’t know how!” I howl.

“Ask the Kah-Gash,” Bec says. “It spoke to us before and directed us. It’s like a person. You’re able to talk to it. Ask and see how it responds.”

“I don’t think—” Beranabus begins.

“Let him,” Bec insists. “If he feels he must do this, and if he can, it’s not our place to stand in his way.”

I stare at her uncertainly, then close my eyes and focus. I search for the magic and quickly find it, an energy and consciousness. There are no barriers between us now. I’ll never have trouble finding it again. It’s as much a part of me as the oxygen in my lungs.

I tell the magic—the Kah-Gash—what I want. I beg it for help. But there’s no answer. I guessed there wouldn’t be. Now that we’re one, I’ve begun to understand that other, mysterious part of myself. Beranabus is right. It won’t let me smash the structures of time just to save Bill-E.