The Devil in Amber (24 page)

I was stupefied with terror and almost didn’t notice as Delilah suddenly seized my hand as the pentagram was completed. Flarge did the same, his own palms pouring with sweat–and put his mouth right by our ears. ‘If you value your souls, don’t look in its eyes. We’re face to face with the very Devil himself. Keep hold of each other’s hands and pray. Pray as you’ve never prayed. And believe!
Believe!
’

I needed no urging. What I had considered lunacy only scant days ago was there before my eyes: profound, abject, undiluted evil. I strained to recall every schoolboy prayer, every catechism, but my mind was like a stone, refusing to dredge up even the slenderest memory.

Mons alone seemed not to fear the apparition. Stretching to his full height he strode towards it, cape billowing behind him, his handsome face alight with energy and triumph. As he smiled, his lip curled up over his fanglike tooth.

‘Lord of the Sky! Banebdjed! I, Olympus Mons, have summoned thee back from the darkest place. I shall shatter the bonds that have laid thee low these past millennia. And in return you will
grant me power! Power over these feeble scum and millions like them! This world shall be mine! Everything refashioned into my image! Nothing will live, nothing will think without my granting it leave to do so. I have made all this possible, Banebdjed. I am
your
saviour!’

Still I struggled to remember anything even vaguely holy.
Jesus’ hands were kind hands
, ran a ludicrous voice in my head.
Onward Christian soldiers!
insisted another. But then something did come to me. Not a half-remembered prayer from schooldays, nor any invocation to the forces of light. It was something from that wretched silk relic. The part that Reiss-Mueller could not fathom. ‘And only he who makes himself alone in the world can defeat the Beast’.

The ram-headed creature had dropped its mighty head to gaze with horrible, patient desire at the prone body of Agnes Daye: the perfect victim whose sacrifice would release it from its earthly prison. Putrid saliva coursed from its wet mouth as it reached out one vast, human hand towards her. The unholy conjunction was only moments away. Then this force of destruction, this rampant evil would be once more unleashed upon the world.

And only he who makes himself alone in the world can defeat the Beast.

I stood up within the five-pointed star. Flarge grabbed at my ankle but I shook him off.

‘What are you doing?’ he hissed. ‘Sit down! Sit down, you fool!’

‘Mr Box!’ gasped Delilah.

I stepped out of the pentagram and immediately felt that awful, draining misery that I had endured before, as though every depressive thought, every wasted moment had been condensed into a liquid transfusion that now crept into my very bones.

But I fought back, struggling towards the terrible monster, my every step weighted down as though my shoes were made of oak.

‘Banebdjed!’ I gasped. Then, louder–‘Banebdjed, hear me!’

Mons turned in surprise then let out a peal of laughter. ‘Oh, you really are persistent, Mr Box! Well, then, Lucifer. Meet LUCIFER!’

I ignored him and turned my face towards the creature, averting my eyes from its own and focusing instead on the abomination that was its body. ‘Banebdjed! I don’t care what this…specimen here says.
I
have brought you back.
I
was the one who transported the last fragment of the Jerusalem Prayer to this unholy place.
I
am the one spoken of in the forbidden texts. I brought it here, all unknowing, as the prophecy states!’

‘Box! Box, what are you doing?’ screamed Flarge.

Pandora jerked towards me, the tendons on her neck standing out like cords. ‘Get back! Get back, you pathetic little man! This is our moment! The glory is ours!’

I didn’t even look at her. ‘I am the one who found the Lamb of God! I am He That Is Spoken Of! Is this not so?’

Mons shrugged. ‘I cannot deny it. This man has done all these things. But I am the one who seeks your freedom! I am the one!’

‘Banebdjed!’ I yelled. ‘Do you acknowledge that I am He That Is Spoken Of? DO YOU?’

The ram-headed abhorrence seemed to consider for what felt like hours, rancid breath streaming from its nostrils and the black, black hole of its poisonous mouth. At last, the great head inclined downwards just a fraction.

Adrenaline surged through my body. I felt a kind of thrilling victory.

‘Then!’ I bellowed. ‘Being thus, I claim the right to send you back whence you came!’

Mons laughed again. The creature made a low, grumbling roar that ran through me like an earth tremor.

Now Pandora was chuckling. ‘You fool! You blind fool! You don’t even know what you’re saying. Only one who makes himself all alone in the world can do that!’

I looked at her. ‘And I’m not alone, am I? I have
you
!’

My hand flew to my coat and I whipped out the knife that Flarge had used to slice through our bonds. Pandora’s carmine smile fell. Then I dashed forward and with one smooth action cut a new and redder smile in her throat.

W
ell, we’d never got on, had we?

Hell, having already broken loose, was content to bide its time at this singular intervention. Pandora slipped to the rocky floor, her neck fountaining blood and soaking her hair, a last look of complete surprise on her cruel, pallid face.

Mons staggered backwards, his bare feet clapping on the cold stone. ‘What have you done? What have you
done
?’

Then a strange primal howl began to escape from his breast, immediately silenced by the shattering and ghastly cry of the foul sheep-headed monster that towered above us all. Its great red eyes rolled in its head, and stinking black smoke began to billow from its nostrils and vast mouth, filling the chamber as though a four-alarm fire had broken out. Then the Beast’s hooves began to beat an enraged tattoo on the floor like a Spanish bull venting its spleen, and the whole chamber shook with the percussion.

Behind me, Flarge was frantically intoning prayers but I found myself filled with renewed confidence. The game was up. I’d played this Devil by his own rules and bested him.

The creature’s dreadful maw fell open and a hideous belching moan erupted from deep within its cavernous chest, great ropes of saliva hanging like slug-trails from its cracked and blackened lips.

Mons pushed me aside and staggered towards the abomination, his hands plucking at its rancid fur. Already it seemed to be diminishing, as though it was being propelled backwards down a long, fathomless tunnel.

‘
No!
’ screeched Mons. ‘Come back! You must come back!’

The creature’s body was unravelling, great strips of flesh and bone turning once again into the strange wispy blue smoke. One by one the dreadful crawling horrors that surrounded the creature were absorbed into it as though sucked up by a hurricane.

‘You!’ raged Mons, pounding up to me and pummelling at my chest with his bare fists. ‘You have done this! After all these years of planning and hoping and—’

Suddenly he caught sight of the Jerusalem Prayer, still on its frame, and his face lit up as he raced towards it.

‘It’s not too late! Of course it’s not! I shall simply summon him back again!’

Grasping the edges of the frame he bowed his head and began rapidly to intone the forbidden text.

I was on my feet at once and haring towards him but Flarge was suddenly at my side, laying a restraining hand on my arm. ‘Let him finish, old boy.’

‘Are you insane?’ I yelled. ‘I’ve just slit my bloody sister’s throat so that he couldn’t unleash that blasted monster—’

Flarge shook his head. ‘The Jerusalem Prayer has already been misused once. For the same person to try again is suicide.
One must play by the rules
.’

Joshua Reynolds seemed to know this too. He raced to his master’s side and tried to drag him away from the lectern. ‘You mustn’t!’ he screeched. ‘You know what will happen!’

But Mons grabbed at the silver chalice and smashed it across Reynolds’s face. He crashed to his gargantuan belly, then, staggering to his feet, tottered from the chamber.

I goggled at Mons as he raced feverishly through the ritual, glancing every now and then over his shoulder, willing Banebdjed to reverse his trajectory.

‘He’s crazy!’ yelled Flarge. ‘We’ve got to get out!’

Suddenly a lurid light began to infuse Mons’s features. He grinned, obviously confident that, great all-powerful sorcerer that he was, he alone had managed to confound the rules and resurrect the Beast once more. But the light was coming from the Prayer itself. Its edges were on fire.

Mons gasped and looked down as the strange, almost liquid flame licked across the silk. In seconds it had caught the trailing sleeves of his black cloak and was running over his hands like quicksilver.

He screamed and looked wildly around him, looking for support from his loyal acolytes who, like loyal acolytes across the ages, were running to save their skins.

‘Banebdjed!’ he screamed. ‘Save me!’

Staggering towards the satanic creature, his arms ablaze, Mons collapsed onto his knees. Banebdjed, its ghastly ram’s head twisting and writhing in agony, was vanishing fast, darkness enveloping its rancid fur and scaly flesh. Flames burst into life under Mons’s jaw and his lips drew back in one last snarl. There was a great whoosh of air and orange fire exploded within his skull, belching from his open mouth and sending his eyes shooting out of their sockets. Like twin comets they flared across the cavern, exploding against the rock wall. Then the rest of Mons collapsed into a ball of flame that span round and round before hurtling straight
into the maw of the creature, its jaws snapping shut with terrible finality.

There was a final, almost pathetic sigh and then, as if I had emerged from a dip underwater, everything sprang sharply into focus. The temperature rocketed and that curious sensation of muffled sound vanished on the instant. Naked amber-shirts were fleeing in droves from the chamber, leaving only Flarge, Delilah and me standing as the place shuddered to its very foundations.

Clearly, Banebdjed intended to take down the place with him. I raced towards the altar and scooped up Agnes in my arms.

‘Lucifer!’ she cried, tears streaming down her beautiful face. ‘You have saved me?’

‘I promised, didn’t I?’ I breathed. Delilah was by me in an instant, draping her own heavy coat over the poor girl.

‘Let me take ’er, sir,’ cried my servant. ‘You and Mr Flarge concentrate on getting hus outa ’ere!’

I nodded dumbly, passing Agnes into Delilah’s massive embrace. The girl managed to stand, Delilah’s coat completely encasing her.

Rocks were tumbling all about and the way out was simply stuffed with screaming, desperate Satanists who’d seen their dreams turn to ashes and now cared only for themselves. We’d never get past them and would in all probability be crushed to death if we tried.

Then my eyes alighted on a wonderful sight. It was a little metal sign bearing the legend
PTT
and, right by it, the arched entrance to some form of maintenance tunnel. Blessing the Post Office in all its forms, I hared forward and popped my head inside. The tunnel was narrow and cramped but looked wholly sound.

‘This way!’ I yelled. ‘Come on!’

Delilah and Agnes moved first and I waved them through.

Flarge paused at the entrance and I urged him on with a thump on the shoulder blades.

‘What if it just leads further into the mountain?’ he yelled.

‘We’ve no choice!’ I cried. ‘Get moving!’

He nodded dumbly, then held out his hand. ‘Look here, Box, I’ve got to say this. I’m sorry for everything that happened. If I could undo—’

‘Buy me lunch at the Berkeley sometime, eh? Now, go!’

I pushed him in the small of the back and then crumpled to my knees as the floor shook. Enormous chunks of the cavern were coming loose now, peeling from the walls and ceiling, and the black Satanic drapes that had decorated the place billowed and were torn asunder like the sails of a doomed pirate ship.

The fang-like stalactites cracked and fell, spearing amber-shirts with deadly accuracy. There was no time to linger and I staggered through the archway into the Post Office tunnel where all was hot, oppressive darkness.

Crook-backed by the low ceiling, I stumped forward only to run headlong into the rest of the party. I felt my guts revolve as the tunnel shuddered about us, Delilah’s sweaty bosom stuffed into my face and Flarge’s bony elbow jammed into my side as I tried to get my bearings.

‘This way!’ gasped Aggie through clouds of choking dust. I groped for my cigarette lighter and flicked it into life. Rock particles glittered in the sudden yellow glow but I could see that Aggie was on the right track. The tiny tunnel snaked round to the left and the flame of the lighter suddenly sputtered as it met a cold breeze.

I could feel Aggie’s hot breath against my cheek as I inched forward on my knees, clearing away rubble and then rising once more to a semi-crouching position as I moved, crablike, towards the tantalizing night beyond.

I felt queasy with bending so low, my legs cramping appallingly
and the rough tunnel mortar scraping against the nape of my neck, but all at once I was through and breathing stunningly fresh air.

I turned round at once and dragged first Agnes, then Delilah, then Flarge after me.

We lay dazed for a long moment, retching and coughing and shaking our heads. Above us, the star-packed night sky was immense and wonderful.

There was a distant percussion from inside the mountain and a billowing cloud of choking smoke puffed from the tunnel exit like a dragon’s last breath.

‘Cor!’ croaked Delilah. ‘What a night!’

I got to my feet and sighed heavily. Agnes Daye bounced nimbly to my side, her lithe form all but invisible within Delilah’s enormous trench-coat.

I ran my hand over her hair and smiled warmly. ‘We’d better get you warm, eh? You’ll not last long in the buff.’

She chewed her lip and shuddered. ‘Is it really over?’ she cried, plaintively.

About to reply, I took in a great lungful of the blessed Swiss air, then looked up suddenly, hearing the sound of grinding gears and metal on metal. Flarge was by me in a flash and both of us craned our necks to see the cable cars from Mons’s castle stirring into life.

‘Capital!’ I cried. ‘We hopped off when it came close to the mountain. Perhaps we can jump back on board and get a lift down!’

The carriage was blazing with light and I kept my eye on it as the four of us raced through the snow. To my surprise, the light in the car was momentarily blocked by a bulky shape and I realized the thing was occupied.

Flarge whipped out the binoculars he’d taken from Reiss-Mueller’s corpse. ‘Probably just one of Mons’s guards fleeing the castle–hello!’

‘What is it?’ I cried.

Flarge slowly lowered the glasses. ‘It’s Joshua Reynolds,’ he grinned. ‘Fatty Reynolds, trying to save his worthless skin.’

I felt a surge of new purpose rush through my veins. ‘I see,’ I said calmly. ‘Percy, do you reckon you can see these ladies safely to the village?’

‘Nothing to it, old sport. Got something to attend to?’

‘You might say that. You might very well say that.’

Aggie cocked her lovely head to one side and frowned. ‘Lucifer?’

I bent to kiss her on the forehead and then took to my heels, racing through the powdery snow and casting rapid glances at the descending cable car. Within minutes I’d reached the rocky point where the car would come close to the mountainside. Crouching low lest my treacherous chief spot me, I watched as the metal box slid downwards on its steel wire, hovering only a foot or so above my head.

Summoning my last reserves of energy, I hurled myself upwards and grabbed hold of the bottom of the car, swinging up my legs and nestling within the metalwork. The car rocked slightly but there was otherwise no sign that I had thus stowed away. My old injury suddenly flared back into life, however, and I hissed in pain at the renewed agony in my palm.

As the cable-car trundled away from the mountainside, dizzyingly empty air opened up below me. I took a deep breath and concentrated on the matter in hand, probing with my fingers at the housing above my head and soon locating the edges of the hatch. Electric light showed through in a thin yellow rectangle. Planting both feet firmly into the recesses of the undercarriage, I pressed my hands to the hatch, counted to five and pushed upwards with all my strength.

Taken aback by how easily it shifted, I suddenly found myself looking into the car at floor level. The light was blinding after the
darkness outside and the hatch clattered backwards with a noise that would’ve woken the dead. Reynolds, still in his absurd black costume, span round from the window and gawped down at me.

Before he could move, I put out both hands and hauled myself into the cabin, leaving the hatch wide open. ‘Evening!’ I cried. ‘Going so soon?’

Reynolds’s paunchy face was utterly ashen. ‘You!’ he squealed. ‘How did you—? What…what happened back there?’

I settled back against the glass and folded my arms nonchalantly. ‘Oh yes. I forgot. You didn’t stay for the Main House, did you? Scuttled up to the castle, eh, and decided to take the posh way down?’

Reynolds’s great pale paw flashed into his robe and pulled out an automatic. ‘You’ll tell me, Box, if it’s the last thing you do,’ he snarled. ‘Which, incidentally, it will be.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m content. I’ve done my duty. The Devil has been trapped once again and the Jerusalem Prayer destroyed.’ I turned to the window and watched our swift progress down the mountain.

Reynolds chins quivered alarmingly. ‘And Mons?’

‘Gone to Hell.’

Passing a shaking hand across his face, Reynolds heaved a great, shuddering sigh, then seemed to recover himself. He levelled the gun at me and there was black vengeance in his hooded eyes. ‘No matter,’ he whispered. ‘Who knows of my role in all this save you and your amusingly motley band?’

‘I wouldn’t underestimate any one of us.’

‘No? I’m disappointed with Percy, I must admit. He showed great promise. I’m afraid the tales of one obese Domestic and a callow girl with a shade too much of the tar-brush about her won’t hold much water back in Blighty.’