“Perhaps.” Raz sighs. “We’ll use magic to preserve the balance as best we can. Evolution will be curbed, so there’ll be no
physical changes, but we can’t take all possibilities into consideration. We’ll plan as far ahead as possible. After that…
as you would say, it’s in the hands of the gods.”
I still haven’t reached a decision. I’m weighing up all that the universe stands to gain against all that I will personally
lose.
They want me to become a living tunnel between universes. Sometimes a mage becomes part of a tunnel, and lives as long as
the tunnel remains open. They don’t age or die. If I agree to this, I’ll live until the end of time. Death won’t be able to
claim me. I can keep moving the ark around, protecting this small pocket of survivors while all others are tracked down by
the Demonata and slaughtered.
It’s not foolproof. My piece of the Kah-Gash might desert me when it realizes what I’m doing, or Death might find a way to
trap the ark. But the Old Creatures think it will work.
If
I play along.
In their position, I’d force the guy with the power to accept. I wouldn’t give him any say in the matter. I’d open a tunnel,
make him part of it, and leave him with no option but to do what was necessary.
But the Old Creatures believe I have the right to choose. It’s the creed they live by. They’ll guide their foster children
in the right direction, but they won’t force us. Ever. Even if the fate of the universe is at stake.
It’s not a nice future—I don’t want to spend the rest of eternity as a cog in a machine—but if I refuse to cooperate and everything
falls to the demon hordes, there won’t be any kind of a future at all. The Demonata will either get their hands on all three
pieces of the Kah-Gash and destroy everything immediately. Or they’ll work their way through the universe, world by world,
and gradually grind us into dust. Either way, universal catastrophe.
But if I stay, I’ll be surrendering all but a slim fraction of this universe to the demons. I might keep the millions on this
world alive, but trillions of others will perish horribly. If I go back and link up with Bec and Grubbs… if we reassemble
the Kah-Gash and test it against Death… then the universe has a chance. It might even be possible to save Earth.
Is it better to make a stand, fail, and lose all, or sacrifice unimaginable numbers of lives in order to keep a select handful
alive? I don’t know! This task should have fallen to someone equipped to meet it, like Beranabus. He’d have said yes to the
Old Creatures in an instant, without batting an eyelash.
“Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t chosen,” Raz murmurs. “We don’t know why the Kah-Gash selects those it inhabits. It might be
random, or it might be the work of a higher force. Maybe the universe chose someone who would weigh both sides equally, who
wasn’t so certain of his path that he’d ignore all others.”
“But what if I make the wrong choice?” I groan.
“You can only do what you believe is right,” Raz says. “Consider the angles. Heed your instinct. Decide. If you are wrong,
at least you will have been true to yourself. Life asks questions of us all. We don’t always know the answers. Most times
we have to guess.”
“But you think I should stay,” I press, trying to force Raz to decide for me.
“Yes,” Raz says. “But we also believed we were acting in the universe’s best interests when we encouraged evolution. We are
not always right.”
I nod glumly. We’ve passed from beneath the trees and I can see the sky again. There are several moons, smaller than Earth’s,
different colors. They look like huge marbles. Thinking of marbles, I remember when Art was stolen by a monster from another
world. I darted through a window of light to try and rescue him. I didn’t know what lay on the other side. The safe option
would have been to wait and consider my actions. But then the window would have closed, Art would have been lost. I’d have
regretted my indecision for the rest of my life.
Raz squints at me. “You are going back,” he notes with surprise.
“Maybe Death can’t be defeated,” I sigh. “Maybe the Demonata have won and this ark is all we can hope to protect. But I have
to
try
to stop them. If I run now, I’ll always wonder if there wasn’t something I could have done to save
everyone.
“If I fight Death and fail, I’ll return to do what you wish, assuming I survive. But if I quit now, it’ll gnaw away me… at
my soul… forever.”
I lower my gaze and wipe tears from my eyes. I don’t know when I started crying, but my cheeks are soaked. “Open a window,”
I croak. “I’m going home.”
The journey back passes unremarkably. A series of lights, windows, and worlds. We follow a different route most of the way,
but the chambers we pass through are much the same. I don’t explore any of the worlds. I’m fully focused on the battle to
come, the huge risk I’m taking, what will happen if I fail. I wish I could be positive about my decision but I’m full of doubts.
I think about changing my mind at least ten times an hour.
Eventually we start passing through worlds I remember from the trip out. I get excited as we draw closer to Earth. I might
be going to my death, but if that’s to be my destiny, at least I’ll die on home soil.
Finally, as my stomach’s starting to rumble again, we hit Atlantis and come to a stop. Raz looks around to make sure there
are no giant slugs, then glances at me. “I’ll wait here for you.”
I’m surprised. “You’re not coming with me?”
“No. I will escort you back but I won’t cross with you. You must face Death by yourself, as everyone must when their time
comes. If you wish to return, you can find me here.”
“But I can’t operate the smaller lights,” I remind him.
“You won’t need to,” Raz says. “You will be able to use the normal lights to search for me. It will take a long time to piece
them together—at least several hours—but just think of me and you will find the way.”
“How will I breathe while crossing?” I ask.
Raz goes to one of the lodestones and cuts off a sliver of rock with a fingernail, as easily as slicing through paper. “Put
this in your pocket,” he says, handing it to me. “Draw on its power if you come back. It will sustain you.”
“You’re sure?” I ask, eyeing the tiny chip of rock suspiciously.
“Yes.”
“How long will you wait?” I ask.
“As long as it takes,” he says. “I will know when you are… finished.”
“You mean when I’m dead,” I smile.
“If the hand plays out that way, yes. But I hope it doesn’t.”
Raz sets to work on the window, and it materializes minutes later. I start to tremble and my stomach clenches. I was never
the bravest. I hate fighting. But when I have to, I do. Wincing, I step forward.
“One last thing,” Raz stops me, then hesitates. “This is a delicate matter. I don’t wish to cast doubts without proof, but
it’s important that you know about the possibility of the threat.”
“What threat?” I grunt.
“The girl,” Raz says softly. “Her piece of the Kah-Gash was originally part of Lord Loss.”
“So?” I ask warily.
“It was in the demon master for a long time. Pieces normally merge with beings who live no more than a few hundred years.
They’re influenced by those they share a life with. Having been part of Lord Loss for so long, her piece might have been more
affected by the demon than by other hosts.”
“Are you saying…?” I stop, the thought unfinished, not wanting to continue.
“The Kah-Gash could be manipulating the girl,” Raz says. “Perhaps it spared her soul in order to give Death its freedom. Maybe
it wants to restore the original universe. Bec is of good heart, but the best of people can be tricked and misused.
“We might be worrying unnecessarily,” Raz concludes. “You may have nothing to fear. But watch her, Kernel. Use those sharp
eyes of yours. Look for treachery and be prepared for it.
Beware the priestess, Bec.
”
R
AZ
leads me through the sub-universe of lights for the last time, then bids me a quick farewell and propels me forward. Before
I can yell goodbye, I’m thrust through a window and straight into the middle of a nightmarish war. No time to gather my senses.
I have to adapt immediately or die.
I’m in the middle of a city. Blood and corpses everywhere. The air’s thick with the scent of demons, and also with the buzz
of magic, which I swiftly tap into. I try to erect a shield around myself but something clatters into me before I can complete
it. A beast rolls with me to the ground and comes up spitting. It’s a wolfish creature, long fangs, claws the size of butcher’s
knives, hot yellow eyes. It turns, faces me, snarls—then leaps.
I raise my hands to repel the monster, but instead of attacking me, it jumps over my head and tears into something behind,
howling with bloodthirsty delight. Whirling, I spot the wolfish beast battling a demon. The wolf rips at the demon’s ribcage,
fangs snapping in search of guts.
Wary and confused, I cast my gaze around. There are more wolfen animals on the street and they’re all fighting demons. Soldiers
are at work too, tackling the demonic invaders, showering them with bullets. They can’t kill the Demonata but they can injure,
disrupt, and stall them.
There’s a burst of magic to my right. I spot a small girl rounding on a demon, frying it with magic until its head explodes
and its brains splatter the wall behind it. I’m so pleased to see a familiar face, I forget all about Raz’s warning and call
enthusiastically, “Bec!”
She looks up. Her eyes widen with shock, then her lips spread into a smile. She yells something, but as she does, one of the
wolf-like beasts wraps its arms around me and howls into my ear, obscuring all other sounds.
I lash at the creature, trying to wriggle free, gathering my energy to fight back. Before I can, the beast laughs and says,
“Surely you recognize me.”
I place the voice instantly but can’t believe it. I stare at the creature. He’s two or three feet taller than when I last
saw him, and his face is warped—dark skin, lots of blood vessels, tufts of wiry ginger hair, a yellow tinge to his eyes, mouth
bigger, teeth sharper. His body is lacerated with cuts and bruises. But it’s definitely—
“Grubbs!”
I roar. “What the hell’s happened? You look like a werewolf.”
“I am,” he chuckles. “That’s my pack.” He waves a hairy hand at the wolves. His fingers are twisted and bulging, the nails
more like claws. He could probably pop my head one-handed.
“But… how… what…?”
“I’ll deal with this group first and explain later,” he growls, tugging at the waist of his pants. They only just fit him.
He’s naked otherwise, chest exposed, rippling with muscles. He’s stained with blood—different colors, so I know it’s demon
blood, not his own. Some of the stains are fresh, dripping from his skin and soaking into his hair. But others are caked in.
He’s been in the wars since we parted, and he looks like he’s been loving every moment.
As Grubbs pounds away to attack a group of vicious demons, I put my questions on hold and focus on how best I can help. It’s
a dirty, messy battle. Normally demons cross singly or in small groups. But there are dozens running riot here. This is no
ordinary crossing. It’s the work of a powerful, organized, intelligent foe.
As the battle rages around me, I complete my shield, then focus on the patches of light in the air. A quick check reveals
two windows set a few hundred feet from each other. Demons are pouring through both. That suits me perfectly. I might not
be a great fighter, but I can turn the tide of this battle single-handed.
Picking a path through the warring forces, I hurry to the nearest window. It’s a large pink panel. Ignoring the demons spilling
out of it, protected by my shield, I thrust my hands into the center of the panel and pull at the patches. Within seconds
the window pulses, tears apart, then snaps out of existence.
The demons closest to me come alert to the threat I pose. If I can shut down the second window they’ll be stranded, and demons
can’t survive long on this world. Screeching for support, they hurl themselves at me. For a split second I think I’m doomed.
But then the road explodes at my feet, scattering the converging demons. As they scream, blinded and injured by the flying
debris, sheets of fire drop on them from the air, setting them ablaze, sending them thrashing away madly.