Demon Child (29 page)

‘I’m sure there are.’

‘If you tell him you’re his mother, we’ll break his other arm.’

‘His
other
… What? You
broke his arm
?’

‘Dad and Uncle Francis are tag-teaming the brainwashing. Dad’s the good, loving and indulgent parent. Francis is the cruel one.’

‘And what did he do to deserve having his arm broken?’

‘We’re
brainwashing
him, Emma, he didn’t do anything. But he’s frantically trying to work out where he failed so it doesn’t happen again. Remember: don’t tell him you’re his mother. Don’t tell him anything about topside. No stories of the family. You can be with him as much as you like and teach him the ways of the world, but don’t make any attempt to turn him from us or he will suffer, and suffer horribly, for it.’

‘I see.’

‘Dad and Francis will be back in a couple of hours and they’ll be very happy to discuss his future, and your role in it. Until then, I’m sure you want to spend time with your child.’

He opened the door and we went in. My son was sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room with a demon in older female human form, a nanny. Frankie looked six months older already, and had black rings under his eyes, which were red from crying. He was surrounded by toy cars, his left arm in a bright pink cast from his hand to above his elbow.

I ran to him, then slowed when I saw his panicked expression. I approached him more slowly with my hands in view.

‘Do you remember me?’ I said gently.

He shook his head.

I knelt to speak to him. ‘My name’s Emma.’ I glanced back at Number One, then returned to Frankie. ‘I’m here to teach you things.’

He flinched, put his arm in front of his face and started to sniffle. He was too terrified to run away from me and waited for the blow to come.

‘No, not bad things, nice things,’ I said. ‘I’m here to teach you interesting stuff, and I’ll never hurt you.’

He dropped his arm to see me, and my heart twisted. He resembled me; and he had some of John’s features as well — his strong jaw, softened by youth, and his dark eyes. His hair was a fine dark brown, the same colour as mine, and his skin was as fair as my own. He really was our child.

I didn’t try to hug him; that would come later. Maybe one day he would even call me Mummy.

‘Number One,’ I said loudly, ‘I need Lego. Lots of Lego, a few basic sets, and a computer with internet access. I don’t care how much your father complains — limit outgoing, I don’t care. This child needs to see more nature than this garden, and I’ll need to research which books I want to order for him. A television and DVD player — I’ll give you a list of DVDs later. I want a complete list of everything you’re feeding him; he looks like he’s not getting enough vitamins. He needs sunshine, dammit, he’s whiter than me! The King will need to arrange something. Drawing materials, a
lot
of paper, crayons, paints, Play-Doh.’

I turned to see Number One leaning on the wall next to the front door and smiling with satisfaction. ‘Are you writing this down?’ I said.

‘I don’t need to, Emma. And you can call me Andy, if you like. I’d really prefer it.’

‘I’ll think of more things later,
Number One
.’ I swept my hand over the rug covered in miniature cars. ‘Is this all he has?’

‘The King buys him toys but he’s usually too young to play with them, ma’am,’ the house demon said. She dropped her voice. ‘And they’re taken away as well.’

I checked Frankie. He was sitting on the rug, petrified with fear, his face blank and withdrawn.

‘Move me in here with him,’ I said.

‘Ask Dad about that,’ Number One said. He sat on the couch. ‘He’ll be here soon. Why don’t you get to know the child before he comes?’

‘What time is it?’

‘Only nine, still early.’

‘He should be getting ready for bed.’

‘He can go to bed after his mother and father have been in to say goodnight,’ Number One said.

I made a soft sound of frustration in my throat, sat on the carpet across from Frankie and picked up one of the cars.

Two hours later, Frankie and I had made an imaginary town on the carpet using pencils and paper that Number One had scrounged for us. We drew roadways on the paper, and drove the cars through life and family situations. Frankie’s life experiences were close to nonexistent, but he was a fast learner.

The Demon King arrived in Kitty Kwok form, accompanied by the Western Demon King, Francis. Both of them plastered smiles on their faces as they came in through the door.

‘Ah, Emma, so good you’re here,’ the Western King said. ‘Little Frankie’s been a bad boy and I had to hurt him. I hope it won’t happen again.’

‘It won’t happen again, Father,’ Frankie said.

‘I can take over caring for him,’ I said.

‘No, you can’t, Emma dear, you don’t have the same set of goals as we do,’ the Eastern King said. She sat on the carpet next to Frankie and pulled him into her lap. ‘Has your arm stopped hurting, sweetheart? We can give you more Panadol if you like.’

‘It’s not too bad, Mummy,’ Frankie said, and put his head on her chest. ‘I missed you.’

She put her arms around him and held him close. ‘I missed you too.’ She smiled over his head at me. ‘That’s not a good look to be
showing the boy, Emma. Your face is venomous enough to kill at ten paces.’

I tried to change to blank. ‘Can you blame me?’

‘He would not be alive if not for me, and you’ll never have another one.’ She stood, still holding Frankie in her arms. ‘Bedtime now, my darling.’

Frankie threw his arms around her neck and kissed her cheek. ‘I love you, Mummy.’

Her face filled with genuine affection. ‘I love you too, sweetheart. Go with Three Fifty and I’ll come in later and say goodnight.’ She lowered him. ‘Say goodnight to your father.’

He bowed formally to Francis. ‘Good night, Father. I’m sorry I messed up and I’ll try to do better.’

‘I hope you do, Frankie,’ Francis said, full of regret. ‘I hate disciplining you. You need to try harder.’

‘I will.’ Frankie turned to me and his face went blank. He looked from me to Francis, obviously close to panic — he’d forgotten my name.

‘I’m Emma,’ I said. ‘Goodnight, Frankie.’

He sagged with relief and bowed to me. ‘Goodnight, Miss Emma.’ He took the nanny’s hand and she led him to the bedroom.

Kitty watched him go out, full of indulgent affection. When the door closed behind them, she became more brisk, sat on the couch, and changed to male form. ‘Okay, Emma, if you don’t want to stay and help out with him, say the word and we’ll put you in a nice warm cell.’

‘I’ll stay with him,’ I said. ‘I’ve already given Number One a list of things I need.’

‘We’ll provide everything you ask for, and you can spend your time teaching him. Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ I said.

‘This is too easy,’ Francis growled.

‘I know what it’s like to be a mother. She’ll give anything and do anything for her child,’ the Demon King said.

I dropped my head. He was right.

‘I want something from you in return for giving you time with the child,’ the King said.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ I said without looking up.

‘I want you to give him the Murasame and teach him how to use it. It was once his father’s, it became mine, it’s now yours. I think it’s entirely fitting that the blade becomes his.’

‘He’s too young to learn to use it,’ I said.

‘His coordination is —’

‘Nothing to do with his coordination,’ I said. ‘Everything to do with his size. He’s too small to wield the blade. He’ll need to grow at least another thirty centimetres, and probably more, before the tip isn’t digging into the ground every time he swings it down.’

‘Oh,’ the King said. ‘You have a point. Very well, give him the blade now and we’ll put it on a rack until he’s big enough. And when he is big enough you teach him. Understood?’

‘The blade won’t destroy John, George. You’re wasting your time giving it to him.’

‘It won’t destroy John, but it may take out the Jade Emperor.’

That stopped me. He saw my face and grinned.

‘I’ll need a small bokken to train him first,’ I said. ‘He needs to be able to master the basic moves, otherwise the Murasame won’t obey him and may hurt him.’

‘We can’t have that. I’ll arrange it,’ the King said. He rose, and Francis stood as well. ‘Let’s go to the other villa — your villa — and lock you in for the night. If you behave, I may give you free run between your house and his.’ He gestured towards the door and I went out with them. ‘Tomorrow morning you start teaching him everything he needs to know to live on the Celestial.’

Back in my own villa, I sat cross-legged on the bed and closed my eyes, ostensibly meditating before sleep.

You there?
I asked the stone.

Yes. I’m linked to the wireless network here, but it’s heavily encrypted and I’ll have to use brute force to open a connection. It can be done, but it will take a while
.

I sighed. I wasn’t in any hurry to leave Frankie, but I knew what I had to do.

Good. I was worried that you’d changed your mind when you were playing with him. Number One was right: he really is a lovely
kid. Don’t forget that you’ll be able to come back for him once we’re free
.

I hope so. Any progress on finding the Serpent?

I need to make this wireless connection work so I can find it. When you go to spend time with Frankie tomorrow, ‘forget’ me back here. I’ll have a look around and see if I can’t find some copper wire or fibre optic or something. That is much easier to break into
.

Hopefully they’ll have a computer and internet for me tomorrow as well
.

If that’s the case I’ll be able to break in immediately. Is the plan still the same?

Yes. Somehow break out of here, go by foot — or whatever — in snake form to find the Serpent and let it out. Come back and free Frankie, then the Xuan Wu Serpent teleports Frankie and me home to Heaven. Take the Serpent to the Grotto, and cry like a child when John is finally whole again. Retake Hell and soundly thrash George and Francis. Get married and have a real family with two lovely kids and probably cry again. Happy ever after and shit
.

Definitely sounds like a plan. Get some sleep and I’ll continue to try to break into this network and find out where the Turtle’s better half is
.

I slipped between the covers and nearly lost it at sleeping alone again. I missed John so much it hurt.

Put me to your forehead
, the stone said.

Thank you
. I didn’t remember anything else.

The next morning I went straight from my villa to Frankie’s, eager to spend time with him. He was eating congee at the table next to the kitchen, the demon nanny supervising.

‘Good morning,’ I said, cheerful to be doing something so ordinary with him. I nodded to the demon. ‘Any extra?’

‘Ma’am,’ the demon said, and went into the kitchen to serve me a bowl. She handed it to me over the kitchen counter.

‘Thank you,’ I said, and she stared at me with shock.

I sat next to Frankie and my heart twisted — I’d done this so many times with Simone when she was small. His dark eyes — John’s eyes — shone at me over his bowl.

‘So what were you planning to do today?’ I asked him.

‘Normally I just watch TV and stuff. It’s pretty boring until Mummy comes,’ Frankie said. He brightened and sat straighter. ‘Can we do the thing with the cars again?’

‘If Number One brings the things I asked him for, we can do much more than that,’ I said. ‘I gave him a list of really fun things we can play with together.’

His eyes were wide with wonder over his congee.

‘Have you ever had dreams?’ I said casually, watching the demon nanny busy in the kitchen from the corner of my eye.

‘Sometimes. Sometimes they’re scary,’ he said, still eating with gusto.

‘Snake Mothers?’

‘What are they?’

‘Never mind. Do you dream of snakes?’

The demon nanny went very still.

‘Sometimes,’ Frankie said.

‘Talking ones?’

Frankie didn’t reply, he just took another spoonful of congee.

‘Talking snakes tell the truth in dreams,’ I said, and took a spoonful myself. ‘They’ll always tell you the truth.’

‘No …’ he said, unsure.

‘Always. And if you listen to the snake’s voice —’

‘I think that’s enough of that,’ the King said from the doorway. He was in Kitty form. ‘Nice try, Emma. He told you he dreams of snakes?’

‘Mummy!’ Frankie leapt out of his chair and ran to her.

She bent to speak to him. ‘Don’t run too fast after eating, you’ll be sick.’ She tousled his hair. ‘And how’s my best little boy?’

He threw his arms around her neck and hugged her. She smiled over his shoulder at me, then gently eased him off and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Finish your breakfast, then we have to do something.’

He froze. ‘Do something?’

‘Yes. Up you go.’ The King lifted him, little legs dangling, and sat him at the table again. She sat next to him. ‘Eat up, and then Emma will give you a present.’

Frankie looked from the King to me, eyes wide. ‘Really? Is it the stuff you said about, Emma?’

‘The stuff I was talking about, yes,’ I said.

‘No,’ the King said. ‘Emma’s going to give you a sword. A really cool one.’

I was silent at that.

‘Or. Else,’ the King said with quiet menace, tapping her fingers on the bright pink plaster cast.

I pushed the congee away, suddenly not hungry.

The Demon King chatted with Frankie as he ate his breakfast, and wouldn’t let me speak: she either interrupted me or talked over me when I tried. When Frankie was done, the Western King Francis entered, with two Dukes in human form attending as guards.

‘Living room, there’s more room there,’ the King said, and we all filed in.

Francis and one of the Dukes stood behind me; the King, Frankie and the other Duke stood in front. They weren’t taking any chances.

‘Try anything and you know what will happen,’ the King said. ‘Give him the sword.’

Frankie stood silent and uncomprehending. I hesitated, then held my hand out.

‘It won’t come,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t like Hell.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ the King said. ‘It
loves
Hell. Little finger first? Or two fingers? Take your pick.’

The Murasame appeared in my hand and I wavered. If I tried for the King now, my son would see me kill the only mother he knew.

‘Just do as you’re told, Emma,’ the King said, reading my mind. ‘Then you can spend the rest of the day playing with him. You said it yourself: he’s too small to use it, and you know nobody else will be able to. It will sit on the rack untouched. Give it to him. It’s only a blade and you have plenty.’

I said goodbye to the sword and asked it to care for my child. It sat in my hand like a callous bird of prey, silently waiting to attack
anything that moved. It didn’t give a damn who owned it as long as they brought it gifts of chaos.

I knelt and held the blade horizontally in front of Frankie. His expression was a mixture of awe and fear.

‘It’s pretty cool, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘It’s a magic blade, and it’s yours because you’re a Prince.’ My heart broke; as the son of Xuan Tian Shang Di he really was a Celestial Prince. He should have been taking his place in the ranks of Heaven and learning the magic of the Celestials. I pulled myself together and continued. ‘You’re too small to use it right now, but I’ll teach you how and in time you’ll be big enough to wield it.’

Frankie shook his head emphatically.

‘Take it, little love, it is yours,’ the King said.

‘Take the damn blade. I have better things to do,’ Francis snapped behind me.

Frankie jumped as if stung, and approached me.

‘Wait a second. I need to tell the sword that it belongs to you,’ I said. ‘Nobody but you will be able to touch it.’ I glanced at the King. ‘Do you have a rack to put it on?’

‘They’re bringing a lovely ebony stand from my house right now — the Murasame’s old home,’ the King said. ‘Go ahead.’ Her voice sharpened. ‘Now.’

‘Put your hand over mine,’ I said.

Frankie put his hand where I directed, then ripped it away again. ‘It bit me!’

‘Emma,’ the King growled.

‘It doesn’t want to go to him; it says he’s too small,’ I said. ‘Give me a moment.’

I tried to reason with the sword but it was like arguing with a piece of furniture. Eventually I fiercely ordered it to accept my child, and showed it who Frankie’s parents were. That worked. The sword saluted me, and the blaze of pain from holding it was so intense I had to drop it.

‘Pick it up, it’s yours,’ the King said to Frankie.

Frankie approached me carefully, bent and picked up the sword. He had no trouble lifting it — it wasn’t particularly heavy, it weighed less than a kilo — and his face went slack with wonder as the sword settled into his ownership.

‘The sword’s name is the Murasame, the Destroyer,’ I said. ‘Wield it with courage and honour, my son.’

Francis struck me on the side of the head from behind so hard that I hit the floor with a smack.

‘And this is a natural dog,’ I said later that day. ‘My drawings are terrible, but if we get a computer I’ll be able to show you videos of dogs being cute.’

‘What do they do?’

I grinned conspiratorially. ‘If you throw a ball or a stick, they’ll bring it back. They love that game.’

‘And they really can’t talk?’

‘They really can’t talk. They’re not that clever. They just love you and play with you and cuddle you and,’ I bent closer, ‘lick your face!’

‘Ew!’ he said, recoiling with theatrical distaste. He came closer again. ‘Can I have one?’

‘I’ll talk to your …’ I bit the words out, ‘mother and father.’

Number One came into the villa without knocking. ‘Emma.’

I stood to speak to him. ‘Is that a laptop?’