Dark Serpent (30 page)

He saluted her, but she obviously didn’t understand the gesture. ‘I appreciate your help, Margaret.’

‘If I find something, I’ll let you know.’

He nodded to her, then shot straight up into the air and headed for the stone circle.

When he arrived at the school playground, it was obvious that the stones had been stolen. Only indentations remained in the dirt, some of them up to sixty centimetres deep. The demons must have been desperate to take a circle of stones from such a public area.

He put his hand on one of the indentations, hoping to find a trace of what had happened, and heard a tiny click. He rose
and looked around; the sound had come from the other side of the circle. He walked the ten metres across and put his hand in one of the indentations on that side. This time the click sounded like a sharp intake of breath right behind him. He stood and turned, looking for the source of the noise, and saw nothing. He stretched his senses out and heard something very much like a small child’s sob.

He examined the indentation again and found what he was looking for — a small stone, barely more than a pebble, half-buried in the dirt but obviously alive. He didn’t touch it; he just crouched to speak to it.

‘What happened here?’

The stone didn’t reply.

‘I can see you, I know you’re there,’ John said. ‘You’re a little stone, I won’t hurt you. I have friends who are stones, I know all about you. I want to protect you.’

‘They’ll come back,’ the stone said in a child’s voice, scarcely more than a whisper.

‘If they do, I will be here and I will protect you,’ John said.

The child’s voice filled with hope. ‘You will?’

‘Yes. What happened? Was your parent here?’

‘Yes. When the bad people came, my parent dropped me and buried me so they wouldn’t find me. Can you help me find my parent?’

‘I ’m here to look for all of them.’ John held his hand out. ‘What ’s your name?’

‘I don’t have a name yet,’ the stone said, floating out of the ground to settle on his palm. ‘Please help me find my parent. Those were bad people.’

‘Can you take a human form?’

‘I’m not big enough yet.’

‘Do you have any idea where they took the rest of these stones?’

‘Up?’

‘More than that?’

The little stone sounded embarrassed. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you know if there are any other stone circles around here?’

‘There are others?’

‘I see.’ John stood up and looked around. ‘The places I’m going
will be too dangerous for you. Do you have family that can care for you while I look for your parent?’

‘All my family were here in this circle,’ the stone said, forlorn.

‘Can you call the Grandmother? She can look after you.’

‘I have been calling her. But my parent said that the Grandmother is … slow.’

John understood. The Grandmother worked on geological rather than biological time, and was a thousand times slower than any living thing. For her, an immediate reply could take a couple of weeks.

‘Can I put you in my pocket until I find someone to look after you? You’ll need to stay quiet if anything happens.’

‘I want my parent,’ the stone said.

‘I know you do, little one. And I will find your parent. You can help me, all right?’

‘All right.’

John put the little stone in his pocket and flew towards the black house.

The house was modern, built at most in the last century, and sat proudly on its own small promontory overlooking the water. Its two storeys had a multitude of chimneys and gables, giving the impression of a single large mansion. It was constructed entirely of dark stone, making it almost black, and John admired the colour scheme.

He made himself invisible and teleported inside. The entry hall looked completely normal: a tiled floor and a staircase with a wooden banister. There were two doors with numbers on them on this level, and two more on the landing above: the house had been divided into apartments. The letterboxes inside the lobby were stuffed with advertising pamphlets that had overflowed onto the floor — all of the letterboxes, not just one. The whole area smelled of death. Something had died in here, and more than a couple of days ago.

He went to the door in front of him — apartment one — and held his ear next to it. Nothing. He pushed his senses to the other side of the wood, hoping not to trip any alarms, but sensed nothing.

Stay very quiet
, he said to the stone.

Okay
.

He put his hand on the doorknob and pressed his palm against the deadlock above it. He moved the tumblers inside, then realised
that the door was open. He pulled it towards him to open it a crack, then pushed his senses inside. Nothing.

He opened the door to five centimetres, crouched and put one eye to the opening. All he could see was the white wall of the apartment’s entry. He summoned Dark Heavens and pulled the door open slightly further. The white hallway had no furniture.

He stood, hefted his sword and eased himself around the door and into the hallway. He stopped and listened: nothing. He sensed no life and no demons.

He moved silently to the end of the hall and opened the door a crack. This door opened away from him and again he crouched and put his eye to the opening. The smell of death was much stronger here and he saw the corpses on the ground.

Don’t look. Close your eyes,
he said to the stone.

I don’t have eyes,
the stone said, bewildered.
What do I do?

Just don’t look.

The apartment doors were a sham. The interior of the house had been drastically altered to make a nest. The ceiling rose two floors above him; they’d taken out the internal floor, but had done the job roughly and the edges of the floor still ran around the sides of the large single space. The doors on the landing above led to empty air. The floor coverings had been removed and the floor reduced to bare concrete. The walls and windows were splashed with black demon essence, with what appeared to be dried blood crusted in the corners of the floor. Splashes of blood and essence had sprayed onto the ceiling. Clumps of mud ran across the floor from the door to the office area on the left. The office held three desks, one of them overturned.

The rest of the interior of the house was taken up by three large nest hollows. Two held dead Mothers and clutches of eggs. He went to the first and saw that the Mother’s top half was a copy of Simone. He resisted the urge to run his hand over her honey-coloured hair, and moved one of the eggs, watching the dead demon shift inside the shell. It was another copy of Simone.

The second nest’s Mother was an Emma copy. He quickly knelt, his heart thumping, to make sure that it
was
a copy of Emma and not her Snake Mother form. He rose, relieved. It was another copy. Her eggs held copies of herself.

The third nest had just eggs in it, all containing Michael copies. From the staining around the nest, it was possible that this demon had exploded rather than dying without dissipating as the others had.

He went to the desk and rifled through the drawers, but found nothing except a few ballpoint pens and paperclips. They’d killed the Mothers and taken everything. An inter-demon coup? Possible.

He exited through one of the large windows that overlooked the ocean and searched for the rubbish bins. He found them on a rear terrace, melted down to nothing. The demons had filled them with paper and some sort of accelerant and set them alight.

He returned to the interior and went to each nest in turn, yinning the Mothers and eggs. He had to lean against the wall when he’d finished. The control needed to stop the yin from destroying everything was exhausting.

He teleported out onto the pebbled beach of the promontory, where the low waves of the cold, black sea called to him, and pulled out the phone. There were about twenty messages from people on the Mountain and in the Heavens asking him to call back urgently. He ignored them. No messages from the Lius or his children. He called Margaret.

‘John,’ she said, sounding relieved. ‘Did you find anything yet?’

‘That stone circle behind the school has been stolen. The black house had dead demon nests in it; it was an abandoned demon base.’

‘There were demons there?’

‘Yes. They probably wouldn’t leave their eggs, so they were destroyed. The postal workers must know the house is deserted but they didn’t report it. I’m not surprised considering what was in there. You need to call the police and tell them about the house. Do you have any leads on the gateway to Heaven?’

‘Yes. I think I have a way for you to reach the Western Watchtower.’

‘Where are you?’

‘In the town hall.’

‘I’ll be right there. Do you have children, Margaret?’

‘What? No. Why do you ask?’

‘I need you to stone-sit.’

‘To what?’

‘I’ll explain when I get there.’

The day was fading when John arrived at the town hall, and lights from inside shone through the high windows. He stopped and tapped on the front door.

A man opened the door and nodded brusquely. ‘In you come.’

The snake people were grouped around the conference table, with Margaret sitting at the head. John recognised Jamie, the owner of the café, his blonde daughter, and Mabel Defaoite, but none of the others were familiar. Tea and coffee were laid out on the table, as well as what resembled a pot-luck dinner Western-style. The smell of the food made John aware of the fact that he hadn’t eaten in days. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but he needed to keep his energy levels up and carbohydrates would definitely help.

Margaret gestured for him to join her at the end of the table. ‘Come and tell us about the demons.’

He sat and leaned forward on the stone table top. ‘The interior of the black house was gutted. It had been set up as a demon nest.’

This caused consternation among the group.

‘You said they were all dead?’ Margaret said.

‘They seem to be closing down their Earthly operations and moving everything to Heaven. I need to get up there.’ He eyed the food on the table. ‘Is any of this vegetarian?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Margaret said. ‘We really enjoy meat.’

‘I can understand that, I’m half-snake myself,’ John said. ‘You said you’ve located a gateway to Heaven?’

Margaret fetched a glossy modern book written by an archaeologist about the ancient Celts. She flipped it open to a page marked with a post-it note and pointed. ‘They’ve studied our people, and found a vast amount of valuable weapons and armour in this lake. The people threw them into the lake as a sacrifice, believing that they’d go to Heaven and be with the gods.’

‘Where’s the lake?’ John said.

She placed a map of the island on top of the food bowls. The lake was circled with a black marker. ‘There. Does this help?’

John placed his finger on the marker for Holyhead, then traced a route to the lake, running his finger over the topology and noting the hills and landmarks. ‘Thank you. I’ll go straight there.’

She returned the map to a side table. ‘Will you need scuba gear or something?’

He smiled slightly and shook his head. ‘I am one with the water. I am the water.’

‘So you’re, like, the Chinese version of Poseidon?’ Jamie said.

‘I’m the Chinese god of water, so probably, yes. I don’t know too much about your gods. My wife, Emma, did the research and I was counting on her wisdom and knowledge to help me find them.’ He rubbed his hand over his eyes. ‘I’m lost without her.’

Margaret put her hand on his shoulder. ‘We’ll help you. Anything you need to know, we’re here.’

‘Thank you. I do need your help with something.’ John pulled his pocket open. ‘Out you come, little stone. You should stay here.’

The stone floated out of his pocket and hovered in front of him.

‘That’s not Ruby, is it?’ one of the women said.

‘No, this is a baby stone. Its parent and family were stolen from the stone circle behind the school. Its parent hid it, and it escaped being captured.’ John nodded to Margaret. ‘Can you care for it while I’m searching?’

‘Can I stay with you, black turtle?’ the stone said.

‘No, little one, where I’m going is too dangerous,’ John said. ‘These people have a friend who is a stone, and they will care for you until I bring your parent back.’

‘Is there anything special we have to do?’ Margaret said, studying the stone.

‘No. You don’t need to feed or care for it in any way except to keep it close, talk to it, and don’t let whoever took its parent find it.’

‘I’m scared,’ the little stone said.

‘I’ll look after you,’ Margaret said, her face softening.

‘Hold your hand out,’ John said, and she did.

The little stone floated to sit in her palm. ‘Hello,’ it said, its voice soft and shy.

‘Hello,’ Margaret said.

John glanced around at the people sitting at the table. ‘The little stone has called for help from the Grandmother of All the Rocks. If she comes, treat her with respect, give her my regards, and give the stone to her.’

‘What does she look like?’ Margaret said.

‘You’ll know her when you see her. And the stone will as well.’

‘She’s really big!’ the little stone said.

‘I’ll head for the lake immediately, and I’ll call you if anything happens.’

‘Just find our Ruby for us,’ Jamie said, gruff. ‘I wish I’d never yelled at her now.’

John called into the Tesco’s supermarket, bought a bag of grapes and ate them while he flew west over the island to the lake. It had muddy edges full of weeds and rushes; his favourite sort of environment when he was a land turtle. His boots squelched in the mud and he lifted himself slightly to float over the surface until he was past the reeds and over the water itself. He sent his senses down to the muddy bottom, thick with algae and weeds and full of life.

He dropped vertically into the water and sent his awareness through it. There was a deep hole near one of the banks that the archaeologists had missed; inside were a couple of weathered bronze swords and the remains of a wooden rectangular shield the height of a man.

John merged with the water, becoming one with it, and was dazzled by the entrance to the Western Heavens: a vast, blindingly
white gate that occupied the entire lake floor. He pulled his human form back together, then changed his mind and turned into his Celestial Form, so tall that the top of his head nearly protruded from the surface of the lake. He drifted down through the opening and emerged into the sky of the Western Heavens. The land spread before him, green and lovely, and the dark water of the lake entrance shimmered above.

What had Emma said? ‘Green and crystal and beautiful.’ This was definitely it. A cluster of impossibly tall glittering towers rose from the plains, their many spires linked by soaring walkways. The low hills were covered in green grass, rolling forever.

There was absolutely no sign of life, but John wasn’t concerned. He had a start, he was in the Western Heavens, and it was just a matter of time before he found the Glass Citadel. The crystalline towers were a good place to begin.

Bells went off in his head and he stopped, hovering under the gateway. He opened himself to communication and Simone linked up with him. She was shouting.

We need you here right now! There are hundreds of them!

She sent him a mental image of an army of demons attacking the Mountain. The Disciples were seriously outnumbered.

On my way. Less than an hour. Just hold them off until I get there.

He took a deep breath, lowered his head and tried to suck energy out of the Celestial air around him — but it was the wrong Centre; there was nothing there for him. He teleported to the Earthly, and landed in the river in London. He tried to pull energy out of the water, again without success, and teleported again. It would take less than an hour to return to the Mountain, but after making the journey he would be dead from the effort within two hours.

He put that aside and teleported again. His Mountain needed him.

He contacted Liu Cheng Rong as he neared the Mountain. Cheng Rong sent him a mental appraisal of the battle situation and it wasn’t good.

The demon force was around two hundred, all between level thirty and fifty. In the old days before the Attack, they would have easily routed them, but in its current undermanned state, the Mountain was struggling. Only two hundred Disciples remained actively fighting against the overwhelming force.

The demons had somehow managed to carry a hydraulic crane up to the southern gate and were close to being able to use it as a battering ram. The hook on the end of the crane’s arm had been removed and a pointed steel cap put in its place.

All the reinforcements are out,
Liu said.
That’s everybody.

Casualties?

More than you’ll be comfortable with. Most of the Celestial Masters have already fallen.
His voice changed slightly.
I was on the verge of sending out the first years.

That won’t be necessary,
John said.
Retreat. Pull them into the walls and shore up the gate. I’m ten minutes away.

I’ve already called them in,
Liu said.
We’re threading energy around the gate, but we don’t have much. Hurry.

Have you asked for help?

Northern Palace is under attack from a single large demon that’s trying to destroy the castle itself. Prince Ming says it is under control but it’s keeping the entire Northern Imperial Guard busy. West is besieged by insects — small, seemingly natural ones, which are deadly toxic if they bite you. Thirteen wives have died and twenty-three more are close to death. I have asked for the Phoenix and Dragon to help us and they are both sending reinforcements; they weren’t attacked.

John arrived at the familiar mountains of Celestial Wudang and saw the demons driving the crane into position to destroy the southern gate. He couldn’t risk using yin so he took Celestial Form, summoned Seven Stars and threw a massive ball of his remaining shen energy at the crane. The Disciples loudly cheered from the battlements as the crane hissed and melted, steam rising from the structure.

The demons abandoned it and scattered. Some stood their ground, and a couple of them fired at him using modern automatic weapons. He was hard-pressed to dodge the fast-moving bullets. He landed behind the crane and hacked into the demons with
his sword, mercilessly destroying them. He couldn’t block all the bullets and did his best to ignore them as they lodged in his thick Celestial skin.

Some of the demons were trained and could parry a few of his blows, but they were completely outclassed. They retreated to the other side of the melting crane and gathered into a group of a hundred, then charged in an effort to topple him. He leaned into the weight of them and they didn’t knock him over. He summoned his aura and those closest to him disintegrated.

A sword was plunged into his shoulder. He reached around, ripped it out and used it in his off hand to destroy the demons in front of him. He swung the swords wide, Seven Stars singing its deadly bass song, and blunted the pain of the blows that he received as the demons tried to use force of numbers to overpower him. Another weapon hit him in the left shoulder; even he couldn’t battle a hundred at once without taking some damage. Blood ran down his left arm, making his grip on the sword slip. The demons saw the damage and one of them attacked with a vicious axe blow that took his left arm completely off. He didn’t have time to cauterise the wound; he continued to swing one-armed at the demons around him, his vision blurring and red from exhaustion and blood loss.

A shout rang out overhead. The demons panicked and scattered as a wash of flame destroyed everything for metres in front of him.

Clear the field
, someone said from above.

John staggered towards the gate and looked up to see fifty of the South’s Red Warriors in crimson phoenix form. They swept over the battlefield and flame jetted from their beaks, engulfing every demon below. The demons’ screams rose in pitch and the acrid smell of burning demon essence spread over the landscape.

Lord Xuan, you need to move. We don’t have precise control over the flame,
the lead Red Warrior said.

John fell to his knees next to the gate, deafened by exhaustion and barely able to see.
I’m finished. Forget that I’m here and do what needs to be done.

We will work around you.

Destroy everything, including me, and that is an order.

A phoenix lifted him in its claws, carried him to the battlements and lowered him gently onto the stone.

‘Move away, give me room,’ Edwin said. ‘Simone, freeze the stump for me.’

‘What? No!’ Simone said, distraught.

‘We’re losing him; we need to stop the bleeding. Do it.’ Edwin’s voice changed to regret. ‘Never mind, there’s no pulse. He’s gone.’

‘Please don’t rejoin, Daddy,’ Simone said, her voice full of tears.

John went deaf; he tried to concentrate on Court Ten as everything spun away.

He felt a wash of relief as he landed, standing, in Court Ten in Celestial Form, facing the dark furious face of Judge Pao.

‘Kneel before your judge,’ one of the court officers said.

‘Go to hell,’ John growled.

Pao pushed his chair back and stood. He stomped down the stairs towards John and stopped in front of him, glaring. They were of equal height and John matched Pao’s stare, not shifting his gaze from Pao’s black-skinned face, darker than his own.

‘You have a choice,’ Pao said. He paced in front of John, one hand on the belt over his yellow silk judicial robe. ‘The Celestial Himself has summoned you —’

‘I’m heading straight back to find Emma.’

Pao spun and glared at John. ‘The Celestial is well aware of your ridiculous weakness in regards to human women. So you have a choice.’

‘Humans are our reason for existence.’

‘Your choice is this,’ Pao said, ignoring him. He walked back to stand in front of John and they matched stares again. ‘Either go immediately to audience with the Celestial, or face punishment in
every single level of Hell
. Your choice.’

John tried to leave to find Emma, but couldn’t.

‘Choose,’ Pao said.

‘I am First Heavenly General, Pao, you can’t do this to me —’

‘I can and I have. I answer to none but the Celestial Himself,’ Pao said with quiet fury, stabbing his index finger at the floor between them. ‘You do not have precedence over me.’

He walked back up the stairs to the top of the dais and sat
at his desk. ‘Personally, I would love to send you through all ten levels and teach you the meaning of responsibility. You are failing in your duty to protect the Celestial realm. People — your oh-so-dear-humans — are
dying
, Zhenwu, and you are running around the far corners of the world chasing a single worthless woman. These are not the acts of an Immortal Worthy.’ He dipped his brush meticulously into the ink on the inkstone and held it over the judgement scroll. ‘Choose, Turtle. Heaven or Hell.’