John Connolly - The Creeps - A Samuel Johnson Tale

When all was complete, Mrs. Abernathy’s eyes opened, and she rose to her feet.

“Master,” she said.

“Traitor,” said the Great Malevolence.

“All that I did, I did for you.”

“No, you did it for yourself. You sided with our enemies. You called the Shadows to your cause. You would have given them the Multiverse, and eventually Hell itself, all to avenge yourself on one human child.”

“It’s not true,” said Mrs. Abernathy. “It was all a trick on my part. I had a secret plan . . .”

She was frightened now. The ice was already burning her bare feet. She looked to Crudford for help.

“Tell our master, Crudford. Tell it of my loyalty.”

But there could be no comfort from Crudford. Mrs. Abernathy was appealing to the only demon in Hell who was incapable of lying. Before she could speak again, the Great Malevolence’s right hand closed around her body, and it lifted her high above the lake.

“I condemn you,” said the Great Malevolence, and its voice echoed from the mountains as every demon in Hell looked on. “You are a traitor, and there is only one punishment for traitors.”

And with all the force that it could muster, the Great Malevolence flung Mrs. Abernathy at the ice. She hit the surface and broke through, and the ice gave way before her as she plummeted deeper and deeper into the lake. At last, when she was lower than any of the others condemned to its cold grip, her descent slowed, then ceased entirely. The ice closed above her head, and she was lost to view.

There was only one task left for the Great Malevolence to complete, for there was one demon that most definitely could not be allowed to roam freely throughout Hell and the Multiverse any longer, spreading his optimism and good cheer. There was space in Cocytus for Crudford as well. Looking on the bright side was also a betrayal of all that the Great Malevolence stood for.

But when the Great Malevolence reached for Crudford, the little demon was already gone, and he was never again seen in Hell.

XXXVIII

In Which There Is a Parting of the Ways

IN THE SILENCE OF Wreckit & Sons, Samuel and the others stared at the spot from which Crudford had popped from one dimension into another.

“Well, we won’t see him for a—” said Jolly just as Crudford appeared once again. Jolly was ever so slightly disappointed. He’d been hoping to keep Crudford’s hat.

“All done,” said Crudford. “Can I have my hat back, please?”

Jolly obliged with as much good grace as he could summon, which wasn’t a lot.

Beside them, the mutated form that had, until recently, housed Mrs. Abernathy’s black heart was already starting to rot. All traces of Nosferati, and spiders, and sinister clowns had vanished. There were toys scattered across the floor below, but they were no longer intent upon inflicting harm on anyone. They were simply toys, although Samuel had the feeling that he’d never look at a teddy bear in quite the same way again.

“Where’s the heart?” asked Nurd.

“Back in Mrs. Abernathy’s body,” said Crudford.

“And where is that?”

“Frozen somewhere near the bottom of Lake Cocytus.”

“Ah. So the Great Malevolence wasn’t very pleased to see her, then?”

“Oh no, it was pleased,” said Crudford, “but only because it meant that the Great Malevolence got to freeze her in an icy lake for eternity. I think it would have liked to have imprisoned you there with her, Nurd. I think it would have stuck me in the ice as well if I hadn’t made myself scarce.”

“Tut-tut, and after all that you’ve done for the old miseryguts,” said Nurd. “Some demons have no gratitude.”

“It’s all for the best,” said Crudford. “I never really fitted in down in Hell. I didn’t want to torment people, or be horrible. I always felt that there might be something better around the next corner. There wasn’t, of course: there was just more of Hell, but I never gave up hope. Unfortunately, Hell has no place for optimists. Well, it does have a place for them, but it’s at the bottom of a lake.”

“So you can’t ever go back?” said Samuel.

“I don’t want to go back,” said Crudford. “I know my way around the Multiverse, just like Mrs. Abernathy. I know all the little back entrances, all the cracks and holes. I think I might just explore it for eternity. After all, there’s a lot of it to see. It’s a wonderful place, the Multiverse.

“And I’m not the only demon who has escaped: there are thousands of demons scattered all over the Multiverse, and only some are vicious and evil. Lots of them are perfectly lovely, with an admirable work ethic. Mr. Comestible, for example, has set himself up as a baker only a couple of universes from here. His cinnamon rolls are worth crossing dimensions to try.”

“With all of your knowledge, I don’t suppose you could help me to get home?” asked the Polite Monster. “Not that it isn’t nice here, but I left a pot boiling on the stove—five letters, ‘an apparatus for cooking and heating’—and Mother will be starting to worry. Oh, and I have a crossword puzzle to finish.”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Crudford, and he meant it.

“I’d like to come, too,” said a voice. “Actually, we’d like to come.”

It was Nurd who had spoken. Samuel stared at him in shock.

“What?” he said. “You’re leaving? Why?”

Nurd looked at the boy. Samuel was his friend, the first friend that Nurd had ever had if you didn’t count Wormwood, which Nurd didn’t, or not aloud. (He didn’t want Wormwood to think that Nurd might need him. He did need him, and Wormwood knew that he needed him, but it didn’t mean they had to get all soppy about it.) Samuel had made Nurd a worse demon, but a better person. For that Nurd would love him forever.

“I don’t belong here,” said Nurd. “I’ve tried to belong, but I’m still a demon, and I’ll always be one. If I stay here, I’ll have to keep my true nature hidden forever; if I don’t, they’ll lock me up, or try to destroy me. Even if I avoid discovery, I can never be myself. I’ll just be that strange-looking bloke who lives with the Johnsons, him and his even stranger-looking friend.”

“That’s me,” said Wormwood, unnecessarily.

“And what am I to do as you get older?” Nurd continued, having slapped Wormwood semiaffectionately on the back of the head. “Do I continue living with your mum? Do I come and live with you? How will you explain me to your wife, or your children?”

“So you’re running away?” said Samuel. He fought his tears, but they won, and he hated them for winning. “You’re leaving me because of something that hasn’t even happened yet, something that might never happen?”

“No,” said Nurd, “I’m leaving because I have to make a life for myself. I spent so long in Hell, and then you gave me a place here. You showed me a new world. More than that, you gave me hope. Now I want to see what I might become out there in the Multiverse. And you have to make a life for yourself, too, Samuel, one in which there aren’t two demons peering over your shoulder, always needing you to protect them.”

“Don’t,” said Samuel. “Please don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

Now Nurd was crying, too, weeping big wet tears that soaked his elf costume. It was hard to be dignified while dressed as a large elf.

“Please understand,” he said. “Please let me go.”

Samuel’s face was contorted by grief.

“Go, then!” he shouted. “Go on and wander the Multiverse. You were only ever a burden to me anyway. All I did was worry about you, and Wormwood just made things smell when he wasn’t setting them on fire. Go! Find your demon friends. I don’t need you. I never needed you!”